Back to the beginning

We've been slowly completing our circle from Fethiye, across to Crete, up through the Cyclades and down through the Dodecanese, and now we are arriving back where it all started, our 'spiritual home' in Turkey, Orhaniye. The season is winding down, yachts are thinning out, the weather is cooling and we're starting to look forward to the inward time of winter. It seems appropriate that we're arriving back at some places we've been before, seeing some old friends and closing the loop on our experiences.

Megan in Datca.

Datca harbour 

We had a wonderful down-wind romp from Mersincik, along the wild coast between Gorkova and Hisaronu bays. We discovered a yacht up on the rocks in a very isolated headland. No survivors were evident, but several calls to Turkish Coast Guard illicited no response. I guess Turkey is not a good place to expect rescue efforts. We later saw news of the yacht, the Turkish coast guard abseiled down the steep cliff to provide shelter to the yachtsmen rescued on the rocks. After the storm, the yachtsmen were rescued by sea.

Megan with head-dress

Rounding the headland into Hisaronu Korfesi, we were hit by strong winds. The long line of wind turbines on the hills forwarned us that Datca was going to be a windy place. It was comforting to be tucked in secure in a marina after a long time of anchoring out in wild and isolated places, while the wind howled around us.

The ever present Attaturk

We travelled by dolmus to the old village in Datca. The high quality of the masonry work evidenced the on-going renewal of the older villages, which appeals to the tourists who flock to see the 'old Turkey'. The income so generated allows the traditional life-styles to continue. Sometimes, tourism allows the old to continue, rather than destroying it.

The old village at Datca

Beautiful stone-work

Village street

We left the sanctuary of Datca and kept heading east along the peninsula. We explored a lovely long fjord at Birsek, a scenic and protected anchorage.

Little anchoring nooks in the fjord

Rock sentinels to Birsek fjord

After returning to our starting place at Dogan hotel, and enjoying some afternoon teas and British company, we headed to the end of the bay and found a very safe and secure anchorage. We met up with Eddy and Hilde, some Belgium friends that had been sailing a parallel route with us.

Hilde and Megan at the Iskele restaurant

Hilde and Eddy

Friendships are often made during fleeting moments of contact while cruising. So it's wonderful to meet up with these friends further along the path. Our journeys intertwine and mingle, as do our recollections and tales of them, shared with our fellow travellers. Cruisers share a common language, full of nautical references and constant comments about THE BOAT, that silent but demanding partner in all our adventures.

Bev and Megan in Symi

Bev, a teaching colleague and good friend of Megan's, came over to spend some time with us. After a few days in Orhaniye, we thought it would be good to sneak back into Greece, so that Bev could see island life from a sailing point of view.

On the way over, we anchored for lunch in a small cove at Maratonda. Megan and I had ridden a motor scooter to this small taverna on a pristine pebble beach 3 years ago when we first chartered in the Med. We remembered the delicious goat that we'd eaten then, so we thought Bev would enjoy a lunch stop there. The water was that crystal clear Mediterranean azure blue, and the food was fantastic.

 Our Shengen time limit (3 months in any six) had expired, so we anchored in a small bay to the south of the island, outside a Greek Orthodox monastery. We hoped to avoid the Port police in this back water bay.

Pavlov at anchor at Paranormiti

View of the monastery from Pavlov.

Pav from the monastery courtyard

The monastery at Paranormiti looks out onto an almost enclosed bay, its a wonderfully protected anchorage. We rowed over to look over the monastery, and took advantage of the bakery with its wood fired oven.

Pebble floor of the monastery courtyard

Accommodation for the monks

Moorish flavour to the architecture

The monastery has an almost moorish quality, with arabesque staircases, bougainvilla draped corridors and gaudily painted church steeples that would be right at home on a Hindu temple in India.

The gaudy steeple would not be amiss on a Hindu temple

View through the monastery door.

Moorish flavoured staircase

The eternal flame still burns.

We caught the local bus into the main town of Symi. The colours of this town continue to amaze me. At dawn and sunset, particularly when sailing in, every building seems to glow with an inner 'peach' colour.

Clock tower and Symi harbour

Buildings and rock intermingle.

The blue on blue colours of the Greek islands

Another harbour photo...

 Symi, along with Kalymnos, was one of the principle sponge diving islands. Both Megan and I enjoyed reading Charmain Clift (wife of George Johnston), who wrote 'Mermaid Singing'  about her experiences living amongst the sponge divers on Kalymnos  The trade still exists, but only for local tourist commerce. Interesting to think that this was once the major export and earner for the island.

Symi sponge shop.

 Hilde and Eddy had anchored in the main port, not having any Schengen restrictions, one advantage of EU membership. So, we crossed paths again.

Hilde holding forth.

Hard to miss those bright Belgian's.

So, we'd returned to several places that we had explored on our first travels in the Med. Orhaniye,  Symi and Maratonda still charmed us. I had a sense of returning, of seeing these places with more seasoned eyes. They still had the capacity to charm and seduce us, confirming to me that we have not yet become jaded with travelling, and seeing the world slow-style. Returning allowed us to feel more at home, the familiarity was comforting rather than dulling.

What's next? We are now in Marmaris, completing a few last jobs on the boat. We will haul the boat out of the water in 10 days, preparing her for winter and our departure back to Australia. Bozburun, near Orhaniye, will be our home for 5 or so hectic weeks as we clean off a year of barnacles, flush out all our nooks and crannies, and lay Pavlov down to hibernate until we return.