Beauty abounds!

As I mentioned last post, Megan and I needed to chill out for a while, just relax in some peaceful spots.

Well, we founds some glorious places, quite peaceful anchorages where we could just be at one with the beautiful world we live in. Bozueruenluek was one, a tiny dog-leg harbour with a few live-aboard itinerant fishermen living on their boats.

Main bay, Mersincik. Homestead/farm showing.

But the harbour we enjoyed the most was Mersincik, a tiny notch in the wall of another bay. It was so calm and protected, the water was like a crystal ball that you could gaze into for hours. There were many long thin garfish, bright purple, to watch drifting through the water.

Pavlov tucked into a tiny hole in the wall

Unfortunately, beautiful places are popular, and the gulet's invaded about mid-day. They bring their loud toys, like jet ski's and boom-boxes. Most leave in the later afternoon, they are mainly day trippers.

The invasion fleet.

The only sign of habitation on land was a large olive grove. We walked through the farm, which was also a home-stay type place with apartments available. It was just lovely, with stone walk ways and unbelievable views, set in these tall mountains. Quite remote and beautiful.

Pathway to the farm

Looking back to the bay

Unfortunately, we ran out of food, so had to leave to re-provision. We've headed into Knidos, a place we visited in Papalagi (our first Med charter boat) over 3 years ago. Tomorrow, its off to Datca, where we hope to find a large supermarket. Our basic supplies have really been depleted, and we're living on beans and rice!

Pavlov is in a nook around the far corner.

As we sailed to Knidos, we saw a yacht up on the rocks on a remote headland. We investigated, but saw no survivors or passengers. We tried contacting Turk Coast Guard on VHF Ch. 16. No one answered, I'm glad it wasn't a Mayday call we were putting out. It reminded us that serious shit happens. I said a little mantra for the crew of the boat we saw, hoping that they were alright, and could eventually salvage their boat.

What's next, Doc?

To paraphrase Bugs, we've been contemplating our future. We've completed our first year on the boat, had lots of adventures, quite a few stressful times and more boat issues than I thought possible.

Entry lighthouses at Didem marina

We lost the anchor windless function following our brush with lightening, so we stopped at Didem marina to effect repairs. We had Megan's brother and sister-in-law, David and Carolene on board, who enjoyed the luxury of the marina.

Spacious luxurious marina

Carolene, in Didem marina

Leaving Didem, we anchored in a few secluded anchorages, without incident. Every thing was running smoothly, until we entered Gumeusleuk harbour. This is a very small little harbour with a very narrow entrance. It was packed with boats, some swinging at anchor and others with a line to the shore. We dug in our anchor and proceeded into the small tourist enclave. During dinner back on the boat, just after we'd finished the first course, the anchor suddenly gave way. We were being blown down onto another moored boat at a great rate. Luckily, the keys were in the ignition, and we could get the boat moving and avoiding the dangerous obstacles all around.

Entrance to Bodrum harbour

As the night darkened, we kept desperately trying to reset the anchor. The wind had piped up to about 25 knots, and we were being blown downwind too fast to allow the anchor to penetrate the thick weed. While trying to lay the anchor, we had to pirouette the boat around numerous closely packed obstacles (other large and expensive boats), all the while the dinghy is still standing upright on the deck. We left the harbour once, but conditions were not very nice outside. It was blowing hard and there was a 2-3m swell running. Re-entering the harbour, we again tried to set the anchor numerous times, but failed. The tiny dock was not an option in 25 knot crosswinds, so there was no option, but head out to sea.

Luckily, there was a marina only 3-4 nm down the coast, so we could enter Turgetries around 2230 and were allowed to tie up to their fuel dock.

Next day, we headed off down to Bodrum, where there were no berths due to demand from Race week. After circling for 2 hours waiting to refuel, we were finally offered a berth (at an outrageous price of 80 Euro's). Well, it solved some problems for our guests who kindly paid for a few nights there. We said good-bye to David and Carolene in Bodrum, they were planning to travel further in France and the UK.

Interesting hybrid cruise/sailing ship

Standard cruise ship, boy what it does to the neighbourhood.

Standing off from Bodrum.

So after about 10 days of hectic sailing and touristing with David and Carolene, Megan and I felt like we needed a break. We headed east up the Gorkova Korfesi from Bodrum to English Harbour. It is so named as it held a secret SAS commando naval base during World War II. 

Small restaurant/market/pier at English Harbour

A view of the tranquil anchorage

We'd had so much wind and strenuous sailing over the previous days that it was great to tie up to a secure pier in a very sheltered and safe anchorage, and just hang out for a few days. We caught up with boat maintenance items and had a chance just to read and swim.  More importantly, it gave us time to reflect on our life aboard Pavlov.

I think both Megan and I are finding some things quite difficult with life on board. One thing is the constant awareness that 'Shit happens' any old time it likes. Anchors drag, things break down, wind blows..... We are constantly on guard for these events, and that can be quite stressful. We also spend a LOT of time fixing things up.

Another consideration is the nature of transitory living. We meet interesting people, but then leave them. We can't see people that we'd like to keep seeing. Life and travel has its own rhythm, and its hard to coincide with others. We travelled for a while with Petra and Marco, some German friends that we met, and that was great. But then our paths diverged.... does that mean the end of that relationship? We don't feel like being perpetual tourists. How many piles of ancient rock can you see and still stay interested? We're both finding a need for more meaning in our life post-retirement. Megan particularly is missing her children. So we must see where this all leads.

Pavlov at English Harbour

We are talking about taking yearly contracts at marina's so that we have a sense of a 'base' for our lives, at least for that year. We are thinking of taking the boat through the canals of France and Germany so that we have to face less rigours in sailing and to see more of inland Europe. We might be tempted to sell the boat in the UK. We think it might take a year to sell the boat, so settling down in the UK for a year would be no great hardship. 

Who knows what our second year might bring? It will also be interesting to reflect on our experience of living back in Australia (we are visiting for 3 months for Sophie's and Ayla's weddings) after our life on the boat.

Let's roll those dice again, Doc!

Back to the Future

Time and tide, and the Greek immigration authorities wait for no man, so we had to check out of Greece by Saturday as our extension visa was expiring. However, there is a very important festival in Samos on Monday. This festival celebrates the Greek naval victory over the Turkish (Ottoman) invasion fleet in Pythagoria.

Samos harbour at night

So we had to stay, albeit illegally. We checked out on Saturday, got all the paperwork done, and laid low for the next couple of days. The celebration was brilliant. A small fleet (representing the Greek naval forces) of fishing boats circled the harbour, mock bombing this small floating barge representing the Turkish forces.

The defending fleet

The attack begins

All the Turkish cruising boats hid their national flag for this night.

The Turkish invader is sunk!

And then the fireworks began. It really was an impressive show, and we had ring-side seats. We were on Jonny and Marion's boat sharing some libations with friends, it was a marvellous experience.

The fireworks begin

Lots of zazzle

Lighting up the night sky

Oooohh, Arrrhhh

Next morning, we could delay no longer, so it was up anchor, and off to Turkey. Samos is the closest Greek island to Turkey, the passage between the two is only 1 n.mile wide. We had a great sail over to Kusadasi, our port of entry for Turkey.

Jonny and Marion up in lights!

We booked into Setur Marina in Kusadasi, there are no anchorages in the bay. Kusadasi is like Blackpool in the UK. It is filled with cruise ships (they can accommodate up to eight, according to Heikel), tourists and carpet sellers. We met up with our German friends, Marco and Petra, who also sailed over from Samos.

Marco & Petra

Kusadasi was a nice enough marina, but it was expensive for us at Euro 55 per night. If you've been reading this blog, you'll know our feelings about 'Grockle', and Kusadasi abounded in grockle. So after celebrating Megan's birthday with a meal out and some appropriate baubling (vb. The act of adorning one's female partner with precious minerals so as to appease the gods of spite and fate) - (The actual 'bauble' was an unusual pair of green amber earrings - good gold star earners!), we decided to leave the security of the marina, and head out for some more interesting anchorages on the coast.

The fjord at Tekedagi

We stopped first at Sigacik, and after some windy nights at the end of the bay, we anchored sucessfully in Teos bay. The ruins were indifferent here, but the town was interesting. It was a walled town, very attractive with a good fruit and vegetable market. However, the anchorage was very windy and exposed, so we headed north to Tekedagi. This was an idyllic place, a very deep and narrow fjord-like channel that provided wonderful protection. We failed several times to get a good anchor set, due to the extreme depth and rocky bottom. Then we found a mooring ball, that provided a wonderfully secure anchorage.

The view to the end of the fjord.

There were a few shacks floating on the edge of the fjord, that served as make-shift homes for the crews servicing the mother-ships that roamed around the fish farms out to see. The water was deep, cold but crystal clear. We could hear bird-song each morning. It was a wonderful, refreshing and rejuvenating anchorage.

A floating fisherman shack

We were overjoyed to see a familiar boat hull poking her nose into 'our' fjord. Naussika, the Sirius 38 belonging to Marco and Petra, had turned up. Great minds think alike, so we shared some wonderful days together in the fjord.

Another view of the fjord.

All good things must end, and so it was with our time in paradise. We moved up the coast to another anchorage. It was also beautiful, and we rubbed shoulders with some incredibly wealthy Turk power brokers. However this anchorage was fraught. Petra and Marko dragged in the night and had their mooring lines broken. They also awoke to find a very large power boat dragging down on them. The wind was getting stronger, and there was a gale warning for the area.

Megan at Alicarti

So we upped anchor, (after a chilly morning dive to unwrap the anchor chain from a finger of rock that it had bow-tied itself around), and motored through 25 knot winds and rain, past looming fish farms, up to Alicarti. We were hearing lots of thunder and lightning, and Megan was worrying about being struck. I said, you only have to worry when the flash and the bang happen instantaneously. Well, not five minutes after than, that's what happened. We were startled, but then started hearing a strange noise. I asked Megan to check the engine, it sounded like it was shredding itself. Then Megan noticed that the anchor chain was spewing all over the deck,

Alicarte windmills, just for show.

The lightning had struck the boat (or very nearby) and fried the receiver for the electronic chain counter, which was now commanding 'chain down'. After switching the infernal machine off, we had an uneventful passage into Alicarte, a port town of Cesme. This area is so windy, that they chose the area adjacent to the marina for the world sail-boarding championship, which was running as we entered the harbour.  They must have been concerned about sailing yachts mowing down competitors (or hindering the progress of the race), so we had a low level helicopter escort (low as in less than mast height, only about 20 meters away from the boat) all the way to the marina.

Marco and Petra at the windmill

We had arrived, back from the wilderness, to our next brush with civilization. What would it hold?

Megan in the market street.

A Holiday in Samos

Pythagoria, a secondary port of Samos

We'd finally crossed the Aegean sea, got out of the jet-stream that crosses the middle of it (called the meltemi) and washed up ashore in Samos, the Greek island closest to the Turkish coast. Turkey is only 1 nm away, we can see it from our 'porch'.

The coastline of Samos

We've finished most of the pressing maintenance tasks on the boat. Only two main items remained, we'd bought a new anchor in Lavrio which was residing in our rear cabin. Since we are expecting some visitors in the next few weeks (David and Caroline, Megan's brother and sister in law), the anchor needed to be installed on our bow roller, and we needed to say good-bye to our faithful old CQR (get it?). Our house battery bank is also failing, so we needed to replace the 3 huge lead-acid batteries that store our electrical power.

Main port of Samos, Varthi.

We enquired around, and met Stelios, an old wizened Greek mechanic, who assured us that he could do the required welding so that the new anchor would fit and be contained in our bow roller.

Our favourite swimming hole in Pythagoria

Let me digress a little about anchors. The anchor is the number one safety item on a boat. If you don't believe this, read my post about living on the end of a piece of string. That anchor is the only thing keeping us from being smashed onto rocks, drifting into our (expensive) neighbour's yacht or keeping us secured in our chosen anchorage. Its an important bit of kit. Our CQR was a venerable and capable design (and we had a 60 lbs example, a big monster) but it has been made obsolete by more modern designs. Once the CQR is set, it hold extremely well. But getting it to set is another story. In the bay off Samos, we took 5 attempts before we could set the anchor properly through the thick sea-grass growing on the bottom. In fact, it wasn't until we could lob it into a sandy patch, that the anchor finally bit. Of course, all this is a bit stressful and energetic, specially since the entire moored flotilla is watching our performance. The other problem with the CQR is that many Greek ports are tiny, maybe only 3-4 boat lengths across. That means we have to put our boat hard onto the opposite side, drop the anchor, and try to get it to set before we reach our destination. Often, we'd look out and see our anchor lying only meters away from the boat.

Traditional Greek caique's.

So we bought a new 25kg Rocna. Its an agressive looking spade anchor that has the reputation of setting RIGHT NOW. But its a different shape to the CQR, and lolled around in our bow roller like Dolly Parton in a hammock. We designed some alterations that would hold the anchor securely (get it?) and asked Selios to weld them up for us. We also ordered some new batteries from him, specifying deep cycle batteries. He assured us that he had the perfect batteries.

An old temple site at Pythagoria

We'd been accustomed to the excellent inox (stainless steel) craftsmen in Turkey, who could create a gleaming polished article of virtually anything you requested. We were thus astonished at the amateurish and pathetic attempt at welding that resulted from Stelios's adminstrations. It was just a very sorry excuse for a reasonably simple job. We'd even turned the boat around and moored bow first so that he could work from the dock, with good access to the bow roller. (That was an interesting exercise, deploying our reserve Danforth anchor from the stern by hand, as we went bow first into the dock. Pulling it up by hand when we exited in 25 knots of wind was also 'interesting'. Megan came through with flying colours). Then the batteries arrived. We removed the 3 130 Ah batteries, which weigh 35kg each, taking them off the boat via the bow (a very precarious operation). We installed the new batteries. Then I looked the battery type up on the Internet, and found that they were just normal truck batteries, and were not deep cycle.

Early Christian tombs at Pythagoria

Further remonstrations with Stelios, and then we had to remove 90 kg of new batteries and re-install the old. We then had the joy of trying to negotiate a reduced price for the botched up job Stelios had made of our bow roller. His position was, that while agreeing that it was a bad job, he maintained that he'd quoted us for a 'bad job', and that a 'good job' would cost much more!! Clearly, Greece is not the place to find skilled tradesmen, or to get significant maintenance work done. We are looking forward to returning to Turkey for these things.

Cafe life is popular in Greece

We enjoyed the island of Samos, and rented a car to explore. First stop was Lidl, our favourite German grocery store. Staples cost half the price here, so it is a good place to stock up on essentials. Also, alcohol is prohibitively expensive in Turkey, so we stocked up on beer and wine as well.

Old church at Pythagoria

We also toured a few of the old churches and archeological sites in Samos. We found lots of examples of the re-use of antique stones in newer buildings.

Good use for an old mill-stone

A floral motif from an earlier age

Re-use of old columns

Samos is the birthplace of Pythagoras, and the port Pythagoria where we are moored is named in his honour. After spending years drilling Pythagoras' Theorum into students, it was a delight to see the theorum inscribed into a tablet next to the town hall.

Pythagoras himself

The theorum immortalised

The main port town of Samos is variously called Vathy or just Samos. We travelled there by bus, and Megan was lucky to find a dress for her daughter's wedding, in November this year.

Megan looking stunning in her 'mother of the bride' dress

Lion guarding the port of Vathy, Samos

So, we've really enjoyed just 'hanging out' in Samos, the boat list is temporarily in abeyance and we can just enjoy life.  We're also looking forward to returning to Turkey. The cost of living is so much less, we'll be able to relax about financial matters. We've also missed the excellent and cheap fruit and vegetables available in Turkish markets. Bring on the lire!

Pavlov snuggled up in Pythagoria port

A night out with Mario, Lilli and Dessi.