Hugging steel buoys

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Finally we were going to leave Orhanye. Orhanye is a beautiful and restful place and we had made friends there but as week four began we felt it was time to leave. No more diving off the boat into a sea of tiny silver fish. No more afternoon tea and cake at the Dogan Restaurant. No more land.. well  just for a few days.

As the day came for us to leave I must say I had grown apprehensive. It was so long since we had sailed. Would I remember how? Land has that comfortable and reliable feeling to it. It stays still. Nevertheless it had to be. After all we are here to see the world!

Kevin and Sarah gave us a parting gift- our beloved plank. And as we pulled it onto our deck and lashed it to the side, we waved good bye to Orhanye. The sky was blue and the winds light so motoring again. But as usual we hoisted the main and prepared the staysail. We planned to take two days to return to our berth at Ece Marina. No problems could we foresee- these emerge when you least expect them.

After about four hours Steve decided that we should find an anchorage. We were in no hurry after all. Our destination for the day, was still an hour away and the sun was soon to set so why not settle early for the night. On the chart he found a small anchorage and set our course. The bay appeared to offer us protection from any winds. It was to be all to ourselves.

As we motored in I remarked that I didn't really like it here. A large steel buoy lay to our starboard. The winds were off the shore. High cliffs looked down on us as we slowly surveyed the scene, checking the depth and estimating swing room before we dropped the anchor. Three goats watched our endeavours. If only they could have spoken and warned us of the events which were to follow.

The first attempt to lay anchor failed. Steve steered  towards another likely spot and dropped anchor again. Over 50 m of chain. To ensure the anchor took we reversed: the anchor got stuck!

The windlass had been my friend but it failed me! Steve had to manually bring the anchor and 50 m of chain back on board. What do do? The night was approaching, the sun had set.

Remember the steel buoy? Plate steel, rusty and approximately 2m by 1.5 m. Steve decided we should try to moor to it. Ironic really - large rusty steel like container, we a fibreglass boat ....

We came along side the buoy for a closer inspection. On top of it there was an enormous shackle. Clearly this was intended for large steel vessels, I thought. Steve said we needed to grab the shackle and tie a line to it!! I looked incredulous. How could " I" do that! At that moment he began to take off his clothes, planning to leave me on Pavlov and take the line to the buoy. Well ..." You are not leaving me on the boat to guide it to the buoy!" I exclaimed , pulling off my trousers and removing my hat. Rather take to the deep, line in hand or mouth, than be left alone on the boat. Steve suggested I put on my plastic shoes to protect me from the rusty metal. Luckily my immunisation was up to date as tetanus was on my mind.

I took a short line at first to attach to the buoy. Back in Fethiye we had bought 100 m of blue line. Steve had cut it into two equal lengths. One of these was to be our mooring line, in the end. Line in hand , underwear, sunscreen shirt,  gloves and plastic shoes I jumped into the water.
" Stay away from the propeller as the nose will blow off as I slow the boat down" Steve instructed, calmly.  Great!

In the water I tried to swim quickly, keeping out of the way of the boat while swimming while  keeping a grasp on the line . The mooring buoy approached. The boat did swing slowly into my path,  but I finally reached the buoy.

A wooden bar had been placed on either side making it easier for me to clamber on top. It was like a barrel. Once painted white, rusty metal scratched my legs as I  pulled myself up , dragging the line with me.

Once on top, blood dripping down my legs, I stood up. Managing to pull the line through the shackle, I found it too hard of me to tie any sort of knot. Pavlov moved away dragging the line out of my hands. Now the longer line came into play.

All  that practise throwing lines at Tafe would come in handy. Steve gathered the 25 m line and threw enough to thread through the shackle. I threw the line back and we were attached. The idea was to have the rope attached so we could disengage the buoy quickly if necessary. Jumping into the water I was soon back on board. Cold, bloodied but feeling safe...for now.

Dinner and a movie followed. We felt secure in Pavlov, as usual until bout 11 pm....
Thud!!!  We had moved into the buoy. The wind had dropped and gradually we had edged closer and closer to this big steel thing- no longer so safe.

Steve and I flew out onto the deck. Pavlov was hugging the buoy. I grabbed a fender to keep some space for Pavlov's hull and the buoy. What to do??  Steve felt it was too dangerous to find another mooring in the dark, better to stay with what we know.

We went on two one to two hour watches. I couldn't sleep . It hit us again. My watch arrived in no time. Realisng that our line had wound around the buoy and was gradually winding us closer, I woke Steve.

Fending it off again with the boat hook we had to wind the line off the buoy. We did it. Steve managed to undo the knot in the line on the shackle and untie us from the buoy. He had made the decision to leave our "known " world to motor to Fethiye.  It was 2am.

We were to have two hour watches.  I was not that happy. First night sail and no sleep .  Took first sleep. Again I found it hard to sleep, hearing Steve "below" deck. Who was on watch!! I was sure I saw a tanker, but no they were the lights of Marmaris.

Finally my turn to keep watch- 4am to 6 am. Under instructions to stay safely in the cockpit and not venture to the foredeck, and call if I was worried, I donned my life jacket. Exhausted but stressed I gritted my teeth to meet the next challenge. Salty biscuits, tonic and the wee bucket accompanied me.  It was an eerie experience. Lights dotted the coast of Rhodes and Turkey. A ghostly sail ship seemed to be ahead of us but  danced above the sea then disappeared only to reappear later. It turned out to be lights on the coast of  Fethiye Bay.

After waking Steve twice during my watch,  dawn began to break, at last.  Greyish blue light spread from the east.

We were both exhausted.

sort of like ours