Blue, blue, my world is blue....

Today, the Med is a vast blue plane, a perfect blue that shimmers between indigo and topaz. The sky is a corn blue inverted bowl, floating on a layer of blue haze. We've just had a guest leave us. The boat feels like a big quiet space again, our sustaining womb-home, suspended between these two big blue's.

Katapola harbour, Amogas

I'm reflecting on the impact of 'stories' on our lives. Our guest had powerful and compelling stories from her past, that she continually measured her present experience against. Nothing was as good, nothing measured up to that pale reflection of the past.

Farmer and Greek tractor coming into town

Where was she living? What was the reality of these past fleeting memories she was trying to inhabit? Why was current reality so poor that it was preferable to live inside a memory of something that happened decades ago. I asked her why she liked to travel. I was puzzled!

I answered my own question for her, and replied that I liked to travel so that I can experience the world as it really is. I don't want the media's description of the world, I don't want mine or anyone else's memories. I want the simple direct experience of my senses in contact with the surface of the world.

Simple colours on the surface of the world

I notice that the more time I spend on the boat, the more that I'm inhabiting this simple sensory world. It feels more real, immediate. The world of past stories and future plans seems to fade to nothingness. Any idea's I might have of myself, being a teacher or learner, sailor or traveller, striving for goals or attainments..... seem to all disappear. Any worries and concerns for the future are steadily and stealthily being replaced by an enduring sense of now.

Hora village, Amorgas

Sailing into Amorgas in a Force 6 blow, we had Pavlov really powered up. I was standing at the helm, sailing Pav like she was a surf-board. I was so tuned into her, I was riding her, we were vibrating together. I was singing silly songs at the top of my voice. The boat and I somehow merged, a moment of ecstasy, being in the zone.

Pav at the dock

Today, I am more reflective. Sitting between the blue of the sea and the blue of the sky, wending our slow way between the small islands and rocks of the Southern Cyclades, I feel a quiet peace steal over me. I realize that I travel just so I can be here now.

Our beloved Pavlov

That mantra from the seventies, Be Here Now, seems trite but it is so powerful. I no longer need to live in the stories of the past and future. Less and less time is pent there. The boat demands a kind of zen mindfulness. It reminds you of mind-less-ness by playfully stubbing your toe, or some other small nip of affection. In lots of small and larger ways, the boat drags us into a unity with it, with the surface of the world.

My heart fills up, my cup runs over. I'm here, its now.

Love of my life and I, Amorgos

It's all Greek from here .....

Bozuk Buku

Blasting out of Fethiye in early April, we needed to take heed of the winds as the weather can turn nasty suddenly. But we had a great sail on the way to Bozuk Buku, about 55 nautical miles.

Pavlov's new mainsail

We are revelling in Pavlov's new sails. The new mainsail has a great 'lazy bag', making it easy to drop and stow the main without hassling with sail covers. That track up the side of the mast allows us to hoist a storm trysail while the main stays in the lazy bag.

Our new Yankee

Our new Yankee is about 9 square metres larger than our old sail, and much more powerful. We can really feel the increased drive in the boat. As well, the sail has foam pads in its luff, which means that it retains sail shape much better when partially furled. We can partially roll up the sail to fine tune the boat balance and heel angle.

The new staysail is also on a new furler. All of this new gear is making sail handling much easier. We can reef and furl the boat quickly, which is a great comfort factor.

Good visibility under the bimini

We made our usual early morning departure from Bozuk and headed over to Symi. It was a cracking sail, with Pav sitting on 8.5 knots in 15 knots of breeze, hard on the wind. We visited Symi back in 2011, and travelled to an isolated monastery in Paranormitis. This time, we decided to check out the anchorage.

Monastery in Paranormitis

It was a wonderful and sheltered anchorage, but the lights (and shore power) of Symi town beckoned, so we sailed around the island, through the narrow channel and into Symi's main harbour. Unlike the last time we were here, the place was almost deserted, and we were able to moor alongside. (What a relief, sighed Megan. No drama's with the anchor windlass).

Pavlov alongside in Symi main harbour

Main port road

Symi harbour from above.

We completed formalities in record time, despite being given contradictory advice on who we should see next. After harvesting a bunch of rubber stamps (always applied with such relish!), we had our Greek transit log. The rain had set in by then, so we had a layover day, seeing the sights of Symi, taking the local bus to Pedi and walking the length and breadth of the town.

Ethrymon town on Nisyros.

But we needed to make progress, so we set sail for Nisyros. This was a hard sail. Force 5-6 on the nose for 40 miles, it took us 12 hours of hard slog. Then we had windlass hassles trying to lay our anchor backing into a berth in the small harbour of Pali on Nisyros. The windlass kept jamming as Megan tried to free the chain to allow me to back into the dock. After 3 attempts to clear the windlass, and leaving the harbour to lay out the chain in more depth, we declared defeat and tried plan B. There was again room to go alongside, so we took the easy option. (The next day, another yacht arrived after dark with a jammed mainsail partially deployed, and a stuck anchor like us. After so many attempts, that we were spinning around in concert with them, they also made a kamikaze approach to the only possible along-side spot and pulled it off, all in Force 5-6 winds. We didn't think we had it so hard after that!)

Greek wild-flowers

Damn, I'm becoming susceptible to cute.

Last time we were on Nisyros, we didn't really explore the island. This time, we hired a car for the day and took off. First stop was the local sauna, a little hole in the wall with geothermic heating (Nisyros is an active volcano).

Local sauna, it was steamy and hot inside.

Amazing level of rock terracing, all done by hand

We visited several picturesque villages carved into the side of the cliffs.

A church for one?

Perched over the volcano

Dammit, there goes cute again

But the highlight was walking down into the active volcano, sniffing the sulphur fumes, and 'double stepping' (as we were instructed to do by the helpful rental car vendor) on the clay floor of the volcano, to avoid 'stepping in it'.

The caldera

Megan's Vulcan hairstyle

Sulphur dioxide, anyone?

Sulphur cystals deposited around the vent.

A bubbling fulmerole

I was particularly taken by the small church perched high above the caldera. It seemed to symbolize something of these small islands. They have an elemental quality, the people are open and friendly, the food is simple and delicious, the light is elemental and the colors of the landscape are vivid. 

Eagle's nest chuch

From the side.

View from the church over the local village

It seems like all these elements are represented in the church at Eagle's Nest. It seems suspended in thin air against the hazy blue sky of the Mediterranean, floating above the small local village that it services.

Suspended in the blue of space

Earthy roots of the church, growing out of the rock

View of the church from the village.

Its earthly origins seem assured by the rock it is hewn from, and you must count fire as one of its attributes, as it is perched on the thin edge of the caldera, hovering above an active volcano.

View from Eagle's Nest down into the crater

We also saw some ancient walls from the only real fortifications on the island. These are from 1200 BC, but the stones are massive and the joinery particularly fine.

Ancient fortifications

The Greek love for their religion, the Greek Orthodox church is evident in the central place these churches hold in the small villages. Their interiors are lavishly decorated,  with crystal chandeliers, beeswax candles and enough hagiography to last a lifetime.

Old church fronting the village square.

Lavish interior of the church

Revered old patriarches of the church

So we renewed our relationship with this lovely and quiet island, made some new friends and started settling into our Greek phase. So, for now, its all Greek from here!

A new Nisryos friend

Bye from the sea gypsies.

Blast off!

The time had to finally come when we had to leave the nest. But before we could break the maternal bond with Fethiye, we had a few more sights to see and things to do.

Megan driving the Big Iron!

We met some friends newly arrived to Fethiye from Texas. Ken had acquired a 65' gulet (Turkish sailing caique) and we were keen to sail her. Megan got to drive the big iron, while I helped out on crew duties.

Turkish Gulet

We then decided 'One last trip', and took the bus down to Kas and on impulse, stayed over the night.

Kas central mosque.

Kas was a pleasant coastal town. It has a new marina. We like to check out marina's when we are in a town, might be useful intelligence for later.

Kas harbour

Kas marina, brand new and mostly empty.

We love seeing reminders of Australia around the world, and Kas did not disappoint with many lovely groves of Eucalyptus trees.

Aussie gum in the main square

A grove of gums, lovely shade.

We know the season is about to start, we saw the first 'roasters' starting their annual baste routine. It shows how Australian attitudes have changed from the 'bronzed Aussie' image, replete with 'budgie smugglers', to an awareness of the dangers of sunburn and skin cancer.

First baster's of the season

We had to laugh at this 'multi-use' building which housed the small hospitals morgue as well as the hospital cantina.

Strange bedfellows, morgue and canteen.

But finally, the time arrived. Our guest, Michelle, arrived from Australia via Istanbul. We mastered all the bureaucracies of checking ourselves out of the country (no more expensive agents for us!) and the boat was fully prepped and stocked, ready to go.

Last look at G pontoon

Our next door neighbours.

So at first light, we threw off our dock line, and steered Pavlov away from Fethiye for the last time.

Pav prepped to go

The marinaro's outhouse

We had to farewell the 'marinaro's', those cowboys of the marine scene, who help to stuff all those boats into their berths.

Final visit from the marinaro.

A last look back at Ece marina

I think both Megan and I were quite pensive and thoughtful as the day dawned, we left our 'birth home' and Pavlov finally spread her wings to allow us sea-gypsies to take flight.

A new dawn for Pavlov

The Sea Gypsies take flight to new adventures