And so the season draws to a close...

Today we're packing up Zaffina, in readiness for our flight home, and I've just realised that (again) I have lagged horribly behind with my blog, so here is the final instalment for 2014.
We did go to Sifnos, just a short hope from our anchorage of the night before, and nosed into the tiny port of Vathi. When I say tiny, the breakwater had space for four yachts..fortunately, and surprisingly, there was room for us so we quickly tied on. The bay had fabulous shelter, so even if we hadn't been able to get onto the wall, we would have been happy to be at anchor, but this was even better.
Vathi is utterly quaint. To get anywhere, you have to walk along the beach or straight through restaurants - not that there's really anywhere to get to! There's a line of buildings along the seafront and a really lovely hotel that has opened quite recently, a couple of "supermarkets" (I use inverted commas because there really wasn't much that was super about them) and a few restaurants. The beach is soft sand, and that's where we headed for the afternoon, watching with interest as a superyacht came into port and tied up alongside us, half on and half off the pier.
We'd read in the Times Travel Magazine about a restaurant in Sifnos that was reputed to be exceptionally good, so made an interesting bus trip (having to change half way and not sure whether the connecting bus was actually going to turn up or not) to find it. It was very pleasant, but not quite the culinary experience we'd been hoping for! Having seen a bit of the island by bus, we thought we'd hire a car for a day to explore further but to our surprise, all the hire car companies were sold out. We resigned ourselves to staying in Vathi, but then Frank got talking to a tourist who was in the island on his own and he lent us his hire car for a day! We called the hire company and they were quite happy with this arrangement, so thanks to Iri, we had a great day zipping around Sifnos, ending up on a tree lined beach at Faros and then visiting the little church at Christopigi, near where we'd anchored several months ago.
After three nights in Sifnos, Frank plotted a route back to Paros, but before we reached the island, we anchored off Antiparos, just to the south, and liked it so much that we didn't move for two more days! Antiparos has the prettiest little town, consisting of a waterfront and one long street of restaurants, gift shops, cafes and boutiques, but it has a lovely feel to it and we felt really at home. Even this late in the season, the bougainvillaea provided a burst of colour, and the shade of the trees was welcome. The home made ice cream shop was pretty good too (it was the ice cream that was home made, not the shop, in case you're confused.) At a taverna one evening, we got chatting to a multi-national group celebrating a birthday on the next table. It transpired that they'd all fallen in love with Antiparos some years ago and now they meet up, Dutch, English, French, Australian, every year. Obviously we weren't the only ones who felt the magnetic pull of this little island.
Our anchorage wasn't especially sheltered, but the weather was being kind to us, so the only disturbance we got was from the local tripper boat; every day it sped past us, as close as possible in order to give the guests a good view, and kicked up a wake that sent everything clattering around Zaffina. The day we departed, the same boat had just passed us and we were more than tempted to give them a taste of their own medicine, but sadly they'd gone into one of the ports on the south coast of Paros before we had a chance to catch them up and shake them about!
The forecast suggested we'd need shelter for a day or two so we moved to Paroikia, the main port on Poros and after anchoring nearby, we noticed a yacht leaving so decided to nip into the harbour and take its place. We'd been here earlier in the year and had no problems, but this time we were told in no uncertain terms that we couldn't go on the inside wall. Frank ignored the two guys yelling at us to move on out, (we've encountered similar situations before, where someone already in port simply doesn't want you alongside, so they tell you that the berth is reserved when it isn't), but when one of the port officials waved us to the outside wall we knew we had to move. It was not a bad position, but a lot more exposed than inside the little harbour. Fortunately we ended up alongside a large gulet, which gave us ample protection from the elements.
We both love Paros and we were more than happy to spend another couple of days in the town before moving to our favourite anchorage of the summer, at the north of the island. The bay at Naoussa offers fantastic shelter and the town is a delight. It didn't disappoint this time either, and we were so glad that we'd managed to get back again after our first visits earlier in the year.
With guests due into Mykonos, we upped sticks (or upped anchor) and moved again, enjoying a leisurely trip between the islands...until the wind came up! We had thought of having lunch in a pretty bay we'd been to once before, but as we approached so the sea got rougher and rougher, until we decided to forget any idea of a stop off and head straight to Mykonos port.
Amanda and Ian were due to arrive the following day, and our plan was to pick them up and head straight back down to Paros so they could enjoy this little island that we loved so much. One look at the forecast told us that we would have to move quickly, as there was a real blast in prospect, but if we made it back down to Naoussa, we should be okay. The best laid plans...
Once our guests were on board, we prepared to leave, but there was no sign of the marina guy and we needed to pay him before we could go. When eventually he appeared, we did all the relevant paperwork, dropped the ropes and moved forward. That was when we discovered that the anchor was jammed on the seabed, and worse still, the lazy line that we'd just dropped had tangled with the prop. We weren't going anywhere. By the time the diver appeared (an hour and a half later) to disentangle everything, the wind had risen to such an extent that we weren't prepared to put to sea.
Two days later, we took a ferry down to Santorini and spent two nights there, staying at the amazingly situated Suites of the Gods. The hotel is perched on the cliff above the ferry harbour, and has a view all the way up the sweep of the caldera, to Fira and Oia - it really is the most spectacular outlook, and most of our time was just spent gazing in wonder at the view.
We hired a car and took Amanda and Ian to see all the best parts of Santorini, but our favourite is still undoubtedly Oia, the picture perfect town that features in so many advertising features for Greece. I don't think I could ever get bored with it. We even managed to find an exceptionally good restaurant, a real gem in a resort crowded with tourist traps.
On our final morning, I was lying in bed and Frank was in the bathroom, when to my surprise, a Japanese tourist came down the steps onto our private terrace, (and it was clearly private) and stood there taking photos of the view! I was so shocked I just watched in amazement - I'm not sure whether he saw me when he turned around to retrace his footsteps, but my jaw was on the floor!
The ferry trip back to Mykonos was a lot more pleasant than the one we'd experienced two days earlier!
Ian and Frank flew back to Jersey for a few days, whilst Amanda and I had a lazy time on Zaffina and in Mykonos Town, which we got to know pretty well! It's a real maze of tiny streets - designed that way, apparently, to give the pirate population the edge if they were chased through their home town! Despite it being late in the season, the island was still humming, with a number of cruise ships arriving and departing every day and passengers mixing with other tourists enjoying an autumn break in the Cyclades.
Frank and I again celebrated our wedding anniversary by being in two different countries! He was at home, I was in Greece, but Amanda and I had a very pleasant anniversary dinner, and better still, the restaurant did exceptionally good cocktails (think alcoholic lemon meringue pie in a glass!)
Amanda departed, Frank arrived, Frank and I departed! The wind, which had been practically non-existent for our last two days as an all-girl boat, was due back with a vengeance when Frank returned, and had we stayed in Mykonos for another night, we would have been stuck there for at least a week, with no chance at all of putting to sea. So...as soon as Frank was back on board, we were off. I'd completed all the formalities with the harbour and the police, and got the diver back to help bring the anchor up, so we had no delays to worry about and, with the wind already rising, we headed out to sea.
Over the next few hours, we had one of our longest and roughest journeys of the season, but compared to what we'd expected, it was a breeze! The first part was a bit bumpy as we headed towards Nisos, but we were seriously worried it would get a lot worse now once were in open sea. It actually wasn't bad at all, and then, as we reached the Greek mainland where Neptune's Temple at Sounia dominates the headland, the sea smoothed out beautifully, and we enjoyed reminiscing about other trips along that stretch of coast. It wasn't until we were in sight of Athens that conditions deteriorated again and with dramatic effect, but we were almost home and dry...almost. The home bit materialised, but the dry bit went by the wayside, as the clouds gathered, the wind rose, thunder rumbled, lightning flashed across the sky and, just as we were coming into Flisvos Marina, the heavens opened!
Miraculously, Frank effortlessly brought Zaffina into her winter berth, next to the Sunseeker, Extravagance, where we were when first we came into Flisvos back in May, and with cold rain now pelting down, we tied on as quickly as possible and made her fast.
After such a dramatic finale, we decided not to go to sea again; the forecast was now variable for this area of the Aegean, and although we could possibly have made it down to Aegina or Poros for a day or two, (the weather conditions there, in the Peloponnese, can be completely different to the Mykonos, which is in the Cyclades) we felt we'd be tempting fate, so for the last week we've been using Zaffina as a base and enjoying Athens - both the coast and the city. We found an exceptionally amazing restaurant at which we belated celebrated our wedding anniversary (together this time...), and on another evening, after wandering through the Plaka (old town), ate at one with a sensational view of the floodlit Acropolis. Last night we went up to the peak that overlooks the whole of Athens and got a real sense of how large the city really is. We've lazed on the beach and enjoyed some pretty good temperatures for October, and now we've reached that point at which we know the season is at a close and we're as ready as we ever will be to go home.
Apart from a few hiccups with the generator and the thrusters, Zaffina has been amazing (again) this year, Greece has been exceptional, and we've enjoyed our best season so far on the water.
So this is where I sign off for another year....hopefully we'll chat again in the early summer 2015!

September update

After a few days in Jersey (sadly for the funeral of a dear friend), we were on a flight back to Greece and the sunshine. With just a few days before the arrival of family members, we knew it wasn’t really worth going down to the islands and instead set sail for a cove we’d seen when we’d hired a car and explored the area near Athens. The hotel Astir Palace takes over most of a picturesque headland, and has a private marina, and this is where we headed. We’d already enquired about the marina, and decided that instead of paying the fees, we’d anchor off. Even better, when we got there, we discovered a single buoy ready and waiting, so we tied on and waited for someone to tell us we shouldn’t be there. No one did!

Conditions were pretty good for the first day and night, and we just did what we do so well – relaxed and enjoyed our surroundings, read and swam, ate and drank! We’d promised ourselves dinner at the restaurant on the marina where we’d had lunch a week earlier, and intended to leave Zaffina at anchor and take the dinghy ashore, but when we went to the marina to enquire about leaving our tiny tender in the port, we were told that we would be charged 100 euros! We checked on the price of taking our Azimut into port, and that would be 110 euros, and after a quick look at the forecast, we decided that not only was this better value, it was also the sensible option as the wind was due up that evening.

As we came into port, the marineros directed us to the first berth by the entrance – the worse place to be in terms of wake and sea movement, - so, seeing there were dozens of empty spaces, we asked if we could go elsewhere. No was the answer. Frank manoeuvred Zaffina into our allocated space and I took the lines on the bow. “This is the port line,” said the marinero, so I obediently tied it to the port cleat. Two minutes later, he told me it was on the wrong side and instructed that it be moved to starboard – not an easy feat as it was now tight. We eventually got tied on, and were surprised that the marinero hung around for a while, obviously expecting a tip despite his surly attitude. He was more surprised when he didn’t get one.

Dinner made up for the experience in the port, as we sat at a table overlooking the water and the twinkling lights of the Greek coast, enjoying an excellent meal.

Adrian, Chantelle and Lucy arrived two days later and we picked them up in Flisvos before heading straight down to Poros on a calm sea. Our first night en famille was in Russian Bay, an anchorage that has become a firm favourite of ours, as it offers great shelter regardless of wind direction. It was lovely to be back in the islands, and to show off some of the places that we’ve fallen in love with this summer, and the girls and Adie loved not only that anchorage, but others we chose during their week.

In the evening, we had a barbeque on the flybridge, washed down with rather a lot of wine and followed by a long and laughter filled session of charades. I wimped out early – too much red wine I’m afraid – whilst the others went for a late night swim in the still warm water.

From Poros, we headed south and west, back to the mainland area opposite Spetses, where we dropped the hook in the clearest, bluest water imaginable. We’d seen a restaurant on a previous visit that looked worth closer inspection, so booked it for that evening. The situation was beautiful, right on the beach with the tables set just above the water. When we arrived, the staff seemed under pressure and sent us to the bar for a drink before we took our table, which looked as though it may be at the back of the terrace. A little persuasion put us on a better table and we relaxed and ordered our meal. At that point, things went a little haywire! Adie and I were sharing a main course, which was the first dish to arrive on the table. As it was hot, we tucked in, and eventually a couple of other starters arrived, but nothing was co-ordinated and although we’re used to Greek service, and pretty relaxed about it, this was the most extraordinary we’ve ever experienced. In fact, it was the only restaurant I can ever remember at which I’d finished my main course before my starter arrived! I’d like to say that the quality of the food made up for the erratic service, but sadly that wasn’t the case and we rapidly crossed the restaurant off our list of places to eat in Greece!

That evening the girls slept up on the flybridge, and to our surprise managed a whole night under the stars. Lucy counted eleven shooting stars, Chantelle only two or three, and the two of them chatted and giggled until the small hours of the morning.

We moved for a night into the channel leading up to Porto Kheli, which has a number of sheltered inlets running off it, where we tied up near a tiny beach and spent almost as much time in the water cooling off as out of it. With five of us on board, water and provisions run low very quickly, so we popped into Porto Kheli to fill our water tank from one of the tankers that ply along the quay. It cost a full 15 euros, not bad value considering Frank had been debating whether to buy bottled water for the task!

Our next port was Hydra, and to our delight this time we got a great berth right on the quayside. Our guests were as taken with the port as we were, but instead of going to the rocks to swim, this time we took a water taxi down to a gorgeous beach, fringed with shady fir trees, and there we whiled away the hot hours of the day. The following morning, the girls took the opportunity to have a quick (and it was quick, hardly the 15 minutes promised) donkey ride, before we set sail back to Poros, where we picked up another guest – Adam – who had already been there for a couple of nights. With six now on board, we had all the cabins occupied, with Adam in the seldom-used crew cabin, although we did clear it out for his arrival!

Another night and day in Russian Bay was followed by the trek back up to Flisvos and a last night in port before Adrian and the girls departed for the airport in a 5.30am taxi.

Just a few hours later, our next guests were boarding. Christian and Leonie had had two nights in Athens and were eager to continue their holiday on board Zaffina.  After a night anchored off Poros, we retraced our route down to Hydra and although there was space on the quay when we arrived, an arrogant Feretti skipper nipped around us and took the place as we were waiting for the harbourmaster to guide us in. This meant we had to tie to the merchant ship again, although fortunately our position was a little further back this time, making the jump between the two side decks a lot easier.

Once safely tied on, we had a snack lunch on the quayside and then took one of the tripper boats down to a beach in the south of the island. It wasn’t quite as pretty as the beach we’d been to previously, but it had great skimming stones, so I spent a happy hour or so sitting in the water, indulging in my favourite sport! Back in Hydra Town for the evening, we tried a new restaurant, further up the hillside from Sunset – a bit of a trek for Adam, who had just got off crutches after yet another ankle injury – but worth the walk for a lovely meal in pretty courtyard surroundings.

Having two sets of guests for a week at a time meant that we were pretty much doing the same route as the previous week, although in slightly different order. We returned to the anchorage where we’d had to cut our ropes a few weeks previously, and tied on in almost exactly the same place, although this time keeping a firm eye on the sea conditions at all times! After dinner on board – we weren’t going to try the “main course first, starters later” restaurant again – we all dropped into the water and were astounded by the phosphorescence. Although we’ve come across this phenomena a few times, and in fact seen it almost every evening for the past month when we’ve been in the water in the dark, this was exceptional. As we swam in the warm sea, we each left an asteroid trail of sparkling stars in our path, a Disney-esque interpretation of Tinkerbell’s twinkling wake. The further we went from the lights of other boats, the more our wake sparkled and we spent a happy hour in the water, splashing and kicking to create a myriad of shooting stars beneath the waves. It was a special evening.

The following day we moved into the channel up to Porto Kheli and in the evening took a taxi boat over to Spetses. We’d tried to take Zaffina over there earlier in the season, but marina spaces are difficult and tying on is strange, requiring exceptionally long lines from boat to shore and impossible to do by swimming, which is our chosen technique.

Spetses Town turned out to be gorgeous and after a cocktail in a fun bar overlooking the new port, we walked around to the old port for an exceptionally good dinner at an Italian restaurant. It was Frank who decided the next day that we should go back to Spetses for another evening, and nobody disagreed so we again took the taxi across the channel. Cocktails were on the terrace of an elegant hotel on the seafront, and dinner was again in the old port – this time we took a couple of horse-drawn carriages, the only transport apart from two-wheeled or taxis on the island – but a different restaurant. The evening shot past, and all too soon we were on the taxi back to Zaffina. When we got back, there was loud music coming from one of the boats anchored near us in the bay by Porto Kheli, and deciding that if you can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em, we all piled into the dinghy and went across to ask for admittance to the party! Despite some persuasive talk from Christian and Leonie, we were denied access (not surprising really) and so instead we went across to the newly opened Niki Beach Hotel, where we managed to blag our way into their rooftop bar. Not sure how that happened! The view was beautiful, the cocktails were excellent and the giant, colour-changing eggs were a wow, particularly when we managed to get hold of the controls to change all the colours! The sight of Adam walking to the gents with every decorative egg changing colour as he passed, will stay with us for a long time, as will the image of Frank apparently given birth to one! Amazingly no-one threw us out!

Adam was due to fly home the next evening and Christian and Leonie wanted a couple of days on their own, so we dropped the young couple in Spetses, their chosen island, and pressed on up to Athens with Adam, ready for his departure.

With a couple of items needing attention on the boat, we decided to jump ship and we returned to the Astir Palace, this time by road, and had a couple of nights on terra firma and another lovely meal on the marina (though without paying marina fees or facing the grumpy marineros!)

On Wednesday afternoon, we met Christian and Leonie on their return from Spetses, for a quick drink in Syntagma Square before they too high-tailed it to the airport. Now our high summer visitors had all gone home, hopefully with a stack of happy memories of Greece to look back on.

Alone again, we checked the forecast and were delighted to see that things finally looked good for a return to the Cyclades. The winds in the central Aegean are notorious in the height of the summer, and although we were down here in June, there was no chance of a return in July or August. Now they’ve dropped again, and we set sail from Athens early on Thursday morning, heading south. The sea was mixed – good for a while and then with quite a swell before we reached our first port of call, the island of Serifos. As we came around the island, it looked pretty barren and we wondered if we’d made a mistake by bothering to visit, but once we got to the small port, we knew we’d hit gold. It was beautiful. By the port were a couple of gold beaches fringed with tamarind trees, and on a towering hill overlooking the sea was a picturesque town of sugar-cube houses.

We went ashore early evening and after a drink on the port, took the bus up the hill to the town, which was just as pretty close up as from a distance, although not nearly as polished and touristique as Santorini and Mykonos. In a tiny square, we sipped fresh orange juice as the light faded, and watched the residents congregate for their evening constitutional. It was a magical evening.

We debated whether to stay another day in Serifos, but we’d heard a lot about Milos and instead set sail again. Many centuries ago, Milos was another volcano, and sailing into the Caldera was a jaw-dropping moment. It is exceptionally beautiful, especially when the sea is as calm as it was that morning, and we were both awe-struck by the island. We tied up in Adamas, the main town and port, where ferries come and go with alarming regularity causing the boats moored there to rock and roll on the swell.

As the island is quite large (compared to others in the Cyclades), we hired a car for the day and after visiting the catacombs, ended up at a tiny fishing port called Firapotamus, where the old boathouses are lined up along the water’s edge, each with different coloured doors, and a blue and white church stands on the end of the promontory. It was about as pretty as you could imagine, enhanced by the bright turquoise of the warm shallow waters in the bay.

Yesterday we moved on again, intending to sail most of the way around Milos but eventually making a break for the north to try to get out from under a large, dark grey cloud that was dogging us. I think Zaffina may have had a cloud magnet on board, because it seemed wherever we went, the cloud followed, and eventually we moved on to the island of Kimelos, where we dropped anchor in a sheltered bay and waited for the cumulus to dissipate. Eventually it did!

So here we are, debating whether we should go back to Milos or move on to Sifnos. The latter looks likely; there are supposed to be some exceptionally good restaurants in Sifnos…not that we are guided by greed in any way! The dark clouds have gone, the sea is sparkling and there is plenty more exploring to be done.

I love Greece!

Wasps, worry beads and thrusters!

Now I remember why I let my blog slide - I was rubbish at remembering to write it! So...apologies for the gap...here we go again!
We never did get ashore on Spetses. We went to an anchorage at the north end of the island but it was too windy to stay there, and then we went to Spetses Town, thinking we'd tie up and have a lovely evening on shore. It wasn't to be - there isn't a proper marina there, although a few yachts and small motor boats were anchored near the entrance to a ramshackle port, but they had ridiculously long lines tied to the shore which would have been a real hassle to fix, had there been any space available. In the end we gave up and decided that we'd take a water taxi across the next time we were in Port Keli. that next time turned up a day or two later; we'd anchored in one of the creeks off the channel leading up to the port for shelter, and took the dinghy into the little town one evening, intending to hop across to Spetses, but the water taxi turned out to be 45 euros each way, and we decided that an extra 90 euros on top of the cost of dinner was ridiculous, so we shelved the idea for some point in the future.
We'd seen various boats ploughing north, past Porto Keli and Spetses and checked the pilot book to see where they were going. The main destination was a port called Navplion, and we decided to follow in their footsteps and check it out. A lovely trip along the coast was only marred by the wind coming up as we reached our destination, but we tied on successfully and stepped back to survey our surroundings. Navplion is at the base of a towering cliff with a castle perched on the top, and Frank's first thought was that it would be a good idea to go up and explore it. His second idea - after he was told that he'd be on his own - was not to bother! The town itself was charming, elegant old buildings set close together to create narrow streets lined with colourful shops and thriving cafes and restaurants. A beautiful square, paved in white marble similar to ones we've seen in Croatia, marked the centre of the old town and was a focal point for the evening activities, with street vendors and musicians entertaining the crowds that thronged there. Navplion also claims to be the town where the ubiquitous Greek worry beads originated, and here, strangely, they are often sold in tobacconists stores, sharing the window space with a range of gnarled pipes!
We decided to stay for two nights and during the day we set out for the only beach within walking distance of the town. It turned out to be narrow, rocky and hugely overcrowded, with barely a space on the pebbles to accommodate our towels, but we had a fun afternoon there, flinging ourselves into the water every half hour or so to try to keep cool, and eating a surprisingly good meal at a beachside cafe complete with loud music and dancing girls!
After Navplion it was time to head back towards Flisvos, via Poros again, and another trip back to Jersey. We intended to anchor off a small island off Aegina on the way up but had problems with the thrusters so instead went straight back into port. We had hoped that the thrusters would be fixed when we got back from Jersey and the engineer was confident that they were back in working order but when he went to demonstrate, they failed to work. That meant ordering a new part from Italy and what a fiasco that turned out to be! We arranged for the required computer chip to be couriered to Greece, assuming that was the quickest way to get it here but instead it turned out to be the slowest and took over a week to get across the Adriatic, going via Austria and Hungary en route! We could still use Zaffina without the thrusters (they enable her to be moved sideways, pushing either the bow or the stern, or both at the same time) but wouldn't be able to go into a difficult berth in a wind, so we took ourselves back - yet again - to Poros, finding a couple of beautiful anchorages in Russian Bay and just relaxing. The second site was particularly gorgeous, the only down side being the number of wasps that decided to share it with us! We'd slept outside for three nights in the previous position and when we moved to this second place we decided to sleep on the bridge again. All went well until about 5am when the light of the new dawn suffused the sky, at which point all the wasps in Greece descended upon us! They didn't seem vicious, merely inquisitive, and during the hottest part of the day (from about 10am until 5pm) they disappeared somewhere cooler, only to reappear as the temperature started to drop again.
So it's been a frustrating couple of weeks; we had intended using this time to go up to the Sporades and visit Skiathos and Skopelos, islands which are supposed to be exceptionally beautiful, but instead we've been stuck around the Peloponnese. The piece of equipment we required from Italy finally arrived today and the engineer is stepping on board as I write, but whether or not this will fix the thrusters, we're not sure. Our fingers are firmly crossed.
Greece is extremely hot now and even the sea is tepid, although still refreshing. We certainly don't want to be stuck in the city in this weather, but we have to return to Jersey again for personal reasons later in the week so we can't go too far from the port between now and Saturday. We're just looking forward to having everything fixed and being ready to cruise properly when our various visitors arrive later in the month.

Disaster averted...but only just!

It's been an interesting few days! We hadn't been into Aegina Town port before, other than to have a quick look from the boat, so felt it was high time we had a stop over there and it didn't disappoint. The town is very pretty, buzzing and very typically Greek with restaurants and bars along the waterfront, a maze of alleyways behind and a thriving fish market with a couple of nearby cafes where old men sit and while away the days together, swinging their worry beads as they sip tiny cups of lethally strong coffee. This was once, apparently, the capital of Greece but it's hard to believe that now.
After a reasonable dinner at a restaurant recommended by the marina attendant (he was probably on commission...) we were on our way back to the boat when we heard collective gasps and cries ringing out from all the bars with televisions - the Germany-Brazil game was underway, so of course I ended up alone back on Zaffina, whilst Frank nursed a couple of Metaxas as he watched the drama unfold!
The wind was stronger than forecast when we got up the morning, but not too bad and so we set off again, passing Poros and Hydra and a number of other small islands until eventually Spetses was in sight. We didn't, however, go over to Spetses, as there were a number of beautiful anchorages along the mainland coast and some amazing properties on the shoreline that we wanted to have a gander at.
We chose an anchorage in a gorgeous, pure turquoise cove, close to a tiny islet just off the coast, dropped the hook and I swam ashore with the ropes and tied us on. Around the corner from us, the Sunseeker, Extravagance, we'd been next to in Flisvos Marina was anchored, and we waved as we passed.
Towards the end of the afternoon, Frank suggested we went for a dinghy trip, to get a closer look at some of those amazing villas and within a few minutes we were on our way, heading down the coast and gawping at the most elegant properties we've seen since we left the Costa Smerelda in Sardinia - this is obviously Millionaires' Row, Greek style! One in particular, a massive mansion perched right on the beach, caught our eye, mainly due to the colour of the sand - the brightest white imaginable! We commented that it must have been imported specially, and have since had this confirmed by a local taxi driver, who also said that the rumour is that the property sold for 300m Euros!
We were so caught up in our speculations that it wasn't until we turned to go back to Zaffina that we got a nasty shock - the sea had risen beyond recognition in the short time that we had been out, and now that we were against the waves, they looked dramatically huge. Frank asked me to lean across the bow to keep it down in the water, and although I often enjoy doing this on a calm sea, it's not so much fun on a rough one. But without my weight there, we were seriously worried that the dinghy would tip backwards due to the steepness of the waves. The trip back seemed to take forever, as we couldn't hug the shelter of the coast due to the number of reefs, and the further out we were, the  most exposed to the rough conditions. We were both shocked at how quickly the wind and sea had come up, especially as there was no mention of this in the forecast, but we were eager to be safely back on board Zaffina in her calm cove. How wrong can you be? When eventually we came back into sight of our Azimut, she was straining hard on the anchor chain, with breaking waves hitting her hard on the beam. We knew we'd have to move and debated whether to go inshore and undo the ropes but realised it would be too difficult handling the dinghy close in in these conditions, so instead we lifted it back on board. I was all for swimming across, but Frank was worried that I'd be dashed against the jagged rocks by the waves and after watching for a few minutes, I realised that he was probably right. Our only choice was to drop the stern ropes altogether and hope they'd still be there when we came back for them in a day or two.
With the engines running, I released the two ropes and watched them sink through the water. No longer tethered to the shore, Zaffina sprang forward and we started to pull the anchor up, but horror of horrors, it jammed. With so much strain on the winch, it suddenly released its hold and jettisoned metre upon metre of chain into the sea, allowing us to swing back dangerously close to the rocks at our stern. I grabbed the winch spanner and tightened it, praying that this time it would hold, and sure enough, when we tried it again, it was working. But with all the wave movement, the chain managed to flip over the lid of the metal channel that guides it back into the anchor locker and again jammed. The only way to get it back in place was to manoeuvre Zaffina so her bow was pointing in the same direction of the chain, but this again took us uncomfortably close to the rocks. I took over the anchor controls from the bow, whilst Frank concentrated on our position and eventually the chain clicked back into place and the anchor came up from the seabed. What a relief!
We took off to a nearby cove, sheltered from the north easterly wind that was giving us so much of a problem, and arrived to see Extravagance there ahead of us. I offered to help Alex and his family get tied on, as they needed to have ropes to shore but hadn't used the procedure before. I usually swim to shore, but their son, Sean, had their dinghy on the water so I hopped in and prepared to take the ropes. But nothing was going right! The ropes were determined to tangle and with a swell coming into the anchorage, Extravagance too was being pushed around. When we were near enough to the rocks, I jumped into the water with the ropes, but my timing was out as there was now both swell and wake to contend with, and as I tried to swim forwards so Extravagance jerked back, dragging the rope to which I was still attached! I flew through the water, grimly holding on, and swallowing more than my fair share of brine! Our next attempt, was more successful and once the Sunseeker  was finally tied on, it was time to bring Zaffina in and repeat the process. But Frank had noted the swell and decided that it would give us an uncomfortable night and so, waving goodbye to Alex and his family, we made our way up the deep inlet to Porto Kheli, eventually finding a sheltered position in which to drop the anchor and spend the night.
I don't think I've ever been so relieved to be securely anchored, out of the wind and swell, and whilst Frank downed a large Metaxa, my only desire was for a good, hot, strong cup of tea! We'd just had the worst dinghy trip we'd ever encountered, followed too swiftly by anchor problems that could easily have led to disaster, and Frank commented that he'd never, in forty years of boating, known the wind to come up so hard and so fast, with so little warning.
We did manage to retrieve most of our ropes the following morning, as the wind and sea had dropped away, but one of them was trapped underneath the rock it had been tied around, so I had to cut the end off in order to release it - a small price to pay! The yacht we had been anchored alongside was still there, so we asked them what sort of a night they'd had - not good was the answer! They had taken the taxi boat over to Spetses in the afternoon, before the wind came up, and when they tried to get back they were told that the sea was too rough and the boats were no longer running! So they'd been trapped in Spetses, wondering if their yacht was securely tethered, and with images running through their heads of it being dashed on the rocks! We didn't stop in the anchorage after retrieving our ropes, but chose another, more sheltered one where we had a very lazy day wondering if the wind would come back up in the evening, but it didn't.
Yesterday morning we brought Zaffina back up to Porto Kheli and spent the day at the nearby Aman-Zoe Hotel. This is supposed to be the best hotel in Greece - 7 star! I have to admit, it was gorgeous. It felt like a living Greek temple, as the architecture was based on the style of the Acropolis, with colonnades of marble pillars, shady courtyards and cool pools, and really brought to mind what life must have been like in ancient Greece when the temple was the centre of the community. Lunch at the beach club was superb and we spent the afternoon down there, promising ourselves a few nights in the htoel at some point in the future.
As we got back to Port Kheli in the early evening, the wind started to rise again and back on Zaffina we had a noisy, windy night. Again it wasn't forecast, but it is only now, at 10.30 in the morning, that the wind has finally dropped down again and the waves stopped slapping loudly on the hull. We think it's time for us to go over to Spetses, and hopefully we'll be sheltered from the north easterly there, should another unanticipated blast come through this evening.

Hydra and Poros and some islands you've never heard of!

And what a day we had with David and Miranda, along with her brother and sister in law. Their mighty cruise ship docked on the opposite side of the quay from our little Zaffina, and they swiftly disembarked from one and embarked on the other and off we went, back to Rinia and finding - after trying a few - a lovely albeit a little breezy, anchorage. Our day together was special, precious and full of laughter but inevitably all too brief and soon after our lazy lunch it was time to head back into Mykonos, drop our passengers off to rejoin their cruise, and start our own trek back to Athens. We had been slightly worried about the sea conditions en route, but in the end the trip was fine, and we overnighted back in Kea, the first Cyclades island we'd visited three weeks earlier.
Our day in Athens was spent getting our Azimut ship shape and bringing more provisions on board, and in the early evening, we met up with Em (Frank's daughter) and four friends of hers on holiday from Australia. Never have so few people travelled with so much luggage, but somehow we managed to get it all on board and still have room for them to get into their cabins - just (although at least one of our guests may well have been sleeping in a suitcase!)
With one nervous passenger on board, it was a relief to see a still sea when we came out of Flisvos Marina under the bright morning sun. Poros, not to be mistaken for Paros or Paxos, is just a chip off mainland Greece, with a narrow channel separating the two. The curve of the land and the island together create what is almost an inland sea, and here we anchored for a while, in Russian Bay. It was the perfect site in which to relax and enjoy our surroundings and to dip in and out of the refreshing water to cool off, before heading into the pretty port of Poros for the evening. The harbourmaster recommended that we ate at Poseidon and it proved to be an excellent choice, with good fresh food, healthy sized portions and copious amounts of wine. The evening rang with laughter and at the end of it, Frank and I were applauded by all the yachts along the quay for our drunken walk/dance back to Zaffina!
Leaving Poros behind, the following morning we set a course towards Angistri, another island I'd never heard of! The anchorage we selected was between there and a tiny islet a stone's throw away called Dhrosa, beautifully sheltered and with clear turquoise waters over a sandy bottom. On shore, there was just one small restaurant and a cove busy with tourists who were brought across the island by bus from the ferry stop - it is clearly a popular destination for day trippers from Athens or Aegina. Our idyll was spoilt only by the volume of wasps sharing the anchorage with us, so after a morning of swimming and swatting, a lunch of fish and swatting and then more swatting in the afternoon, we decided to move on and try to find a less wasp infested site. We ventured into a lovely anchorage just off Aegina but before we'd even dropped the anchor we knew the wasps would defeat us, so we moved to the south of the island and back to a cove we'd previously visited, and here at last was a relatively wasp-free environment.
Em and our Aussie guests were only with us for three nights, but managed to pack in as much as possible during their brief stay, and after a night at anchor, all swam ashore to patronise the beach bar before lunch on their last day with us. We could hear their voices and laughter ringing out and when they came back on board, to our surprise it was Becks, the quietest member of the group who had found her voice with a vengeance! After a few more glasses of wine, she spent a long while explaining in detail to Frank that her son had a blue budgie, also called Frank, which wolf-whistled whenever she walked into the room. I think she maybe had a headache by the evening!
After returning to Flisvos in the late afternoon, we bid goodbye to our guests, packed our own bags and flew back to Jersey for a few days.
Almost before we had got used to sleeping in a room that didn't sway gently throughout the night, we were on our way back down to Greece, this time with Jenna and Chris accompanying us. We seldom return to Zaffina to find that all the work we have requested has been completed, and as usual, we had half a day in port as various tasks were finished off before we could put to sea. Jen, Chris and I went up into town to grab some fresh fruit and veg, and I introduced them to my favourite cafe, where the freshly squeezed orange juice is served in what look like the milk bottles I remember from my childhood, with a straw sticking out of the neck; somehow, it tastes better that way! It was already hot as we walked back through the park to the marina, and the butterflies were out in force, a cloud of colourful confetti fluttering over the pink and white oleander bushes lining the path.
We finally put to sea a little after midday and this time went straight past Aegina and Poros, eventually arriving at Dhokos as the afternoon wind was rising and the calm waters whipping into a muddle of waves. The anchorage we chose was both sheltered and unspoilt and within a few minutes, the anchor was down and we were tied to the shore with two ropes from the stern quarters. Just two or three other yachts shared the cove and on the nearby land there were a couple of ruined buildings alongside a tiny quay. It was the perfect place for us to spend the night, and for Jenna and Chris, who just wanted to relax and unwind and maybe swim a little, the fulfilment of their ideal.
Frank and I were up early for a swim and then sat in the cockpit, savouring the warmth and marvelling at the glassy stillness of the sea as we watched entire shoals of fish jump from the water. As peaceful anchorages go, it was one of the best we've experienced this year, and we could happily have stayed for a few nights, but we wanted to show our guests some of the beauty the Saronic Islands have to offer. We'd heard that Hydra was especially worth a visit, and arranged a berth in the little port. When we got there, however, we were first told that no berth was available after all, but after intervention from our friends in Flisvos, we were allowed to tie up alongside a rusty old merchant ship in the port.
Hydra port is simply gorgeous. No cars are allowed, so the local transport is either by donkey, pony, boat or wooden cart, giving it a sense of timelessness. With little or no breeze in the port, as soon as we were tied up we headed straight for a nearby swimming area where youngsters were jumping, diving and pushing one another off rocks and into the water. Although the sea was calm, dozens of boats were going in and out of the harbour so the wake was almost constant, and in the water we bobbed up and down along with all the other swimmers. We ate that evening at a restaurant rated with the 2nd best restaurant view in the world according to some survey or other! It was certainly a beautiful place to watch the sun melt into the violet evening haze of the mainland hills, and the food was pretty good too!
We had been told that we had to move at 9 the following morning, as the merchant ship would be leaving port, but when we got back from dinner, replete and happy, our bubble of complacency was burst when we were told that they'd changed their schedule and would instead be leaving at 6am! By now we had four yachts rafted alongside us, so we all had to be up and ready to leave by 6...although when we did emerge, bleary eyed and yawning, there was no sign of life from the merchant vessel! They eventually appeared about 20 minutes later and so, by 6.45am, we were back out to sea, watching the deep shadows of early morning make the undulating hills of the opposite coast appear as a massive sand-dune.
Breakfast time saw us easing through a narrow channel between Poros and the mainland, approaching Poros Town from the opposite direction to previously. We knew the wind was due up the following day, but being back in Russian Bay so early in the morning meant we had the pick of places in which to tie up, and we reversed close to a small beach, tying ropes on either side of the bay and ensuring we were well placed to weather a northerly blow.
In the end, we stayed there for four glorious nights, and loved just about every moment of it! The first day was still and peaceful, and when we swam in the evening, we were delighted to discover that the water was full of phosphorescence, a phenomenon we'd only encountered once before - when we were in Meganissi last year. The four of us spent an age in the water, creating trails of stars around us, and then Jen and Chris went and sat on the bow until they saw a couple of shooting stars to round off their evening. The following day the wind rose, but it wasn't until around 3am that it really blasted, up to a force 7 or 8, with frequent stronger gusts trying to push us around. Fortunately we were securely tied on and although it was noisy, we felt safe throughout (especially as Frank sat on watch in the saloon through the windiest part of the night.)
Although we debated whether to move nearer to Poros Town, our guests were very happy with the anchorage, so we remained in place and used the dinghy to go across to the port a few times. Frank and I spent quite a lot of time at the Vodafone store, trying and failing to top up our account which had run out of credit. After multiple phone calls and much discussion with their staff, we finally gave up, annoyed that what should be a simple operation was turning out to be so complicated. I gave it one more try when we were back on Zaffina, and with minimal effort, managed very easily to do what the Vodafone people had failed at so miserably! It was a relief to be back on line.
The anchorage filled up over the weekend, and where we'd started in isolation, by Saturday evening we were surrounded by big motorboats, presumably owned by Athenians wanting to get away from the city for a night or two. Before we went back to Poseidon for anther excellent meal, I was showering on the bathing platform when a determined wasp flew up and, without provocation, stung me on my thigh. The warm air turned slightly blue.

On Sunday morning we finally untied from our anchorage and turned back towards Athens, stopping en route back at Angistri, although this time we dropped the hook away from the main wasp thoroughfare and spent the afternoon swimming and topping up tans. Then it was back into port, and for Jenna and Chris, the long trek back to Jersey.

And that brings us to yesterday, another housekeeping day - I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say, Zaffina is now sparkling both inside and out. Engineers came on board to check out the generator which had been spitting a few spots of oil, and we discovered it was a miracle that it hadn't blown up on us! That too is now sorted, and we're getting ready to embark on our next trip, hopefully down to Aegina, Spetses and Hydra. 

Mykonos, Paros, Santorini, Sifnos (briefly) and Rinia

Now I remember why I was so rubbish at writing my blog...I'd leave it for so long I'd forget what had happened in the interim! Time to cast my mind back and see what I can recall...
We spent a few days in Mykonos and the sun did come out again - it is such a beautiful place when the sun shines and you can understand why so many tourists come here. The town is the highlight, and the countryside is unexpectedly varied, at times quite stark and harsh, in other places soft and welcoming. There's a church on every corner, and every straight, and several in between, but that's certainly not unique to this particular island. You could never say "when you've seen one church you've seen them all" in Greece, because you can be sure there's a dozen more within spitting distance!
When we left here, we headed south and our next stop was the island of Paros. It's less well known than Mykonos, a lot less trendy and less expensive but it is gorgeous, both from a holiday and a boating point of view. We dropped anchor in a huge, sheltered inlet off Naoussa and took the dinghy into the little seaside town, which turned out to be almost as pretty as the one we'd just left but so much less frenetic. Narrow alleyways were lined with paving stones outlined in white, there were colourful windowboxes and tumbling waterfalls of bougainvillaea, tiny cafes with stark white chairs and tables outside and around each corner, another view of the enormous church that sits atop this little town like an elaborate decoration on a Christmas cake. Cats basked in the shade and tourists - just a few - browsed the shops, and we fell in love with it all. By the time we could tear ourselves away, the wind had come up and we endured a somewhat bumpy trip back to where Zaffina was moored, on the far side of the bay.
Not wanting to leave such an idyllic anchorage, we stayed put for the night, but watching the forecast, we realised we needed to move on and made the short hop down to the main town of Paroikia early in the week. Initially we anchored in a bay opposite the port, but when we took the dinghy ashore for dinner, we realised that there was an Azimut 62 sized gap in the tiny harbour, so we sped back to the boat and brought her in. The wind did come up that evening, and although the anchorage wouldn't have been too bad, we wouldn't have wanted to leave Zaffina there without remaining on board, so we were glad to be ensconced in the shelter of the port, and happy to go exploring.
In true tourist fashion, we opted to hire a strange little vehicle that was a cross between a jeep and a quad bike and off we went, heading around the south and then east coast of the island. The air smelt of early summer, broom and sunshine mixed, and we had a glorious drive along almost deserted roads, stopping every so often to check out a view, a villa or a beach, until we found a taverna for lunch, and shortly afterwards, a beach on which to laze. The drive back wasn't quite so much fun; we were heading into the wind and out of the sun, and without a windscreen to protect us, took a bit of blasting but overall we had a great day; however, when it came to hiring another vehicle a day or two later, we opted for a more traditional small car!
Paros has it all - a lovely town with loads of character, traditional windmills, tiny coves, gorgeous villages, pretty countryside and lovely people, and before we left we promised ourselves several return visits in the years to come - whether on Zaffina or otherwise.
I have long wanted to see Santorini, and this was our next destination after Paros. It is amazing how different all the islands in the Cyclades are, and although they share some features, each has its own ambiance and character. Santorini simply took our breath away! We arrived at this ancient volcano from the north, and as soon as we rounded the first headland, we were directly below the stunningly beautiful town of Ia (or Oia, depending on which map you read). Ia is made up of the traditional sugar cube houses, piled haphazardly (or so it would appear) along the cliff top, and is propped on stark red-brown volcanic cliffs hundreds of feet high. We gawped up at this incredible sight, and eventually tied up to a buoy so we could gawp some more! Lunch at anchor was not quite the peaceful experience we'd hoped for, as a massive motorboat went past at speed, launching a huge wake that caught us on the broadside, causing every pan, plate, glass and piece of cutlery on board to crash furiously and frequently against whatever drawer, cupboard or container it was in, until the wake eventually dispersed. At that point, we decided to head for port!
The little fishing port of Vchlada is on the south of the island and not really too bothered about catering for leisure craft. It's quite shallow and we edged in very gently along the right hand side, as we had been warned to do by a friendly skipper who is familiar with the area. Once in, we were directed to tie up alongside a tripper boat, and duly did so, spending a peaceful night there with the only disturbance being the many fishing boats passing in and out of the port at quite a lick. In the morning, we were moved to another berth, side-to the pontoon.
We were keen to explore Ia by land, and hiring a car, we sped straight up to the town we'd so admired from the sea. It was even more beautiful actually being there. Ia has one long walkway, which must be incredibly crowded in the middle of the season, but was just pleasantly busy in early June. Small alleyways, steps and squares lead off this path, but it is the main thoroughfare, dotted with pretty shops, bars, restaurants and hotels, and the views over the caldera are - again - breathtaking. We lunched and wandered, then wandered some more, and eventually, regretfully, decided to move on. We'd seen a fascinating beach of deep iron-red sand on our sail around the island and so headed in that general direction, to discover it was indeed called Red Beach. Access was either by boat or a rocky, steep cliff path which we took, and the beach was covered with wood shavings, obviously to keep the temperature of the sand down to an almost bearable level. Again, in the middle of the summer it must be almost impossible to lie on Red Beach for more than a few minutes, but at this time of year it was okay.
We explored more of Santorini over the following two days, heading around the east coast and lying out on a black sand beach for the afternoon (same problem - we had to hire sunbeds and wear sandals down to the water) and then driving to the highest point of the island, to a peaceful monastery with wonderful views. We went into Thira, the capital of Santorini, where persuasive jewellers tried very hard to get us to spend huge amounts of money on some beautiful trinkets. We resisted! But it was Ia that drew us back for the last evening, and we returned to the town to watch the sunset and then it seemed criminal not to stay on for dinner! As we left, an enormous moon was rising over nearby Thira; it looked too big and too heavy not to fall out of the sky, and suddenly I could see why David Niven called his memoir "The Moon's a Balloon".
We checked out of Vlchada the next morning and eased around the corner, back into the caldera where we intended to spend one night at anchor. We'd spied a couple of good looking spots from the land and were confident we could find somewhere suitably sheltered to drop the hook. But Frank realised very quickly that we had a problem with the coolant, as temperature read outs were far too high and by the time we anchored, we were resigned to a short stay and then returning to port. Alongside us was the beautiful yacht, Maltese Falcon. We'd seen her in Athens a couple of weeks previously, and clearly remembered our first sighting of her, four years ago, off Sardinia, when she made an impressive sight in full sail. On an impulse, Frank called the Falcon and asked if they were willing to lend us an engineer to have a look at the problem, and to our surprise, they immediately sent their Chief Engineer, Nico, over to Zaffina. He and Frank together worked on sorting it, and after an hour or so, had managed to locate and fix the whole shebang! (The shallow depths at Vchlada meant that all the muck on the seabed was stirred up by our engines, and loads of grunge was blocking the filters, which Frank hadn't been able to open without help).  One of the lovely things about being on a boat is that people tend to help one another and this was a prime example of that attitude prevailing. Nico would accept no payment or gift for his services, and without his help, we would have had a dismal afternoon.
We had our night at anchor, but it turned out to be less restful than we'd anticipated. A westerly swell rose during the night, hitting us straight on the beam and causing an unpleasant rolling motion. We got up at 6am and moved on!
The journey up to our next destination, Sifnos, was not too bad, but neither was it exceptionally pleasant. The swell stayed with us, and a bit of high cloud stopped the rays of the sun from bathing us in warmth, so it was a relief to arrive at our destination. We anchored in a pretty bay next to a gorgeous little monastery, which apparently is no longer serving its original function and can be rented for holidays! We stopped and swam, but again the swell persisted and after a look at the forecast, we realised that things had changed and if we stayed in situ, we'd be in for another rocky night. So again we up anchored, and within an hour we were back in Naoussa on the north shore of Paros. The wind didn't come up - at least not there - but it did keep changing direction and was totally unpredictable for 24 hours. We were very happy to be close enough to visit this little town again and stayed in the anchorage for two nights before moving again to the north.
Rinia is a tiny, tiny island but with some fabulous anchorages and lovely beaches, and we were delighted with this lovely discovery. The sea was the brightest turquoise blue and the shelter in South Bay was exactly what we were hoping for, so we swam and lazed and ate, went to the beach and swam and then returned to Zaffina and ate some more!
So that takes us up until yesterday when, with the wind coming up again, we left Rinia and motored back to Mykonos. Last time we were here, we'd made a clumsy arrival with the wind blowing across the berth, and here we were again, with exactly the same conditions to contend with. This time, though, everything went amazingly smoothly and we made a textbook arrival (and boy, did we feel smug about it!) Today is a cleaning/tidying/smartening the boat day, as our friends from Texas, David and Miranda, are putting into Mykonos on a cruise ship tomorrow, so we'll all spend the day together, and then it's off to Athens to pick up Em and her friends on Saturday. Busy, busy, busy!

At last, the Cyclades!

Okay. Blowers got fixed, water pump went! We really do seem to have had more than our fair share of bad luck with things giving up this year - I'm tempted to take out extra life insurance, just in case!
We eventually left Athens on Saturday afternoon; the wind had dropped from the previous day, which was just too lumpy out at sea, and although it was still a little brisk, we had a pleasant journey down the mainland coast of Greece and then out to the islands. I've been longing to get back to the Cyclades, an island group I visited over thirty years ago, and after all the recent set backs, was beginning to think my dreams were doomed, but we've finally made it!
Kea was the first island we visited. It's fairly barren and a cross between the traditional Cyclades style and that of the mainland. Although it's not particularly developed, it is suddenly becoming popular with Athenians who want an island bolt-hole that is not too far from the city, so there are a number of elegant properties being built on the hillsides overlooking the Aegean. The port we went into was tiny, and as the waterfront was crowded, we dropped the anchor in the bay, promising ourselves that if the wind came up as per the forecast, we could easily move to the opposite side of the deep inlet for better shelter. The wind did indeed come up during the night, but only very briefly, so there was no need to up anchor and we had a pleasant night, swaying gently with the waves lapping on the hull. In the morning we took the dinghy ashore for breakfast but as none of the little cafes seemed to be serving breakfast, we amended it to an orange juice and coffee. As we motored back to Zaffina, a yacht race was starting in front of a nearby headland. The sails, all white or pastel coloured, looked beautiful and dramatic against the intense blue of the sea.
Promising ourselves that we would return to Kea at some time during the summer, we pulled the anchor up and set out to sea again, turning to the east and passing several islands over the course of the next couple of hours, some with light development, some without a single building on them. Our destination was Mykonos, one of the two best known of the Cycladian islands and a beautiful place to be. The new port, sadly, is a short distance from Mykonos town, and our arrival wasn't the most elegant, as the wind was blowing straight across the berth as Frank brought Zaffina back into position. It took us a while to make fast, but eventually we were in situ and able to appreciate our surroundings. A water bus runs between the new and old ports and so, after an afternoon of sorting things on board, we headed across to the vibrant little town.
Only development in the traditional style is allowed on this island, so the hills are scattered with little sugar cube houses adorned by mainly brilliant blue shutters, although sometimes they're green or mauve but nothing jarring or garish. Some of the most elegant homes incorporate the local stone into the intense white buildings, and the combination is lovely - traditional and yet contemporary and cool in every sense. The town is a jumble of houses rising in apparently haphazard fashion up the hillside, and there's a multitude of colourful shops (how many jewellers does one town need?), thriving restaurants and buzzing bars.
Our evening meal was at a gorgeous restaurant called Remezzo, sipping cocktails from the bar as we gazed at the sun sinking into a pool of molten gold as it dipped behind the horizon. Our meal was memorable for all the right reasons (apart from the bill!)
Yesterday morning we grabbed a hire car and set out to explore. We didn't get that far, as we found a pleasant beach in the south west of the island, nicely sheltered from the wind. The beach taverna looked remarkably familiar and turned out to be the one featured in Shirley Valentine - the quintessential Greek Taverna, albeit a little more polished than the norm! The weather wasn't quite as good as it could have been and by late afternoon we gave up on the beach and headed back into Mykonos Town. We discovered that there is a lot more to it than first meets the eye, and were soon lost in a multitude of narrow back lanes that criss cross and back track until you have no idea where you are. Eventually we disgorged onto the sea front and straight into a bar, so it seemed rude not to sit and sip a Cosmopolitan whilst we watched the world go by. (Orange juice for the driver...sorry Frank!)
Last night we ate on board and this morning, horror of horrors, rain! And wind. Not quite what you expect in Greece in early June, but hopefully it'll pass through soon, although things are still looking quite murky. We're not sure whether to leave tomorrow or stay put, in which case we'll be here until at least the weekend as sea conditions aren't looking too good for the next few days. Whatever happens, I'm sure we'll find some way to amuse ourselves!

Of Aegina and Engineers

"Hello Fiona" I was greeted as we tied up in Flisvos Marina by a man I'd never met before in my life. "You're the reason we're here in Greece." My first thought was that the nice people from Camelot had tracked me down after tracing a winning ticket back to my name, but amazingly, that wasn't the case. It turned out that Alex and his family had been boating off Scotland for a while, but after reading our articles in Motor Boat and Yachting, decided that the Med was the place to be, so they'd bought a boat in Croatia and last year sailed it down to Athens! Fortunately, all seem to have gone pretty well, otherwise I think we may have been blamed for their decision!!
Flisvos is a huge, modern and efficient marina, with restaurants and bars along the waterfront and some amazing boats tied up here. The largest is akin to a small cruise ship and has not only it's own berth but an entire pier to itself! If Greece is broke at the moment, I'd love to see the boats they'd buy if they were feeling flush!!
Frank flew back to Jersey for a few days and I stayed on board. With overcast skies and the occasional drop of rain, I spent the first day just getting Zaffina shipshape, and the following morning, assembled my collapsible (but hopefully not whilst I'm on it) bike and cycled off to explore the area. There's a lovely park just outside the marina, and then a long seafront promenade which stretches for miles and has a couple of nondescript little beaches along the way - Flisvos is not a bad place to be stuck, and once the sun put in an appearance and the rainclouds completely disappeared, I was able to enjoy a pleasant and very hot afternoon on the beach, near a group of elderly Greek men who were playing a board game and singing along with a tinny radio, very loudly and extremely out of tune.
The marina has a facility to do grocery shopping, and as there aren't any supermarkets within walking distance, I gave them a long list of items we required. When my shopping appeared, all was well apart from one error...instead of a Galia or Charantais melon, the most enormous watermelon, three times the size of my head and weighing a ton, was delivered to the boat! Despite giving away large portions, setting up a little table with a notice saying "help yourself" and trying to come up with various watermelon salad variations, it's difficult to get through such an gigantic fruit when you're on your own! I don't think I ever want to see a watermelon again in my life!
As usual, there were a few hiccups to be dealt with whilst we were in port, and workmen came on board to check out the various tasks. One problem was that the blowers on the engines weren't working, and although in the short term that wasn't a big worry, we didn't want to undertake any long journeys without them. But small problems sadly can turn into big ones, and we were told we'd need several days in port whilst they were fixed, and indeed, repair may be impossible and instead they may need replacing at painful expense.
The engineers weren't free until after the weekend, so with Frank now back from Jersey, we took a gentle trip down to the island of Aegina, just an hour away from Athens and earmarked a couple of lovely anchorages for future visits. Although we only nosed in for a quick look, Aegina Town seems delightful and we'll definitely head back there later in the summer, but after spending the afternoon at anchor, we continued to a very quiet little port further south, Perdika, where we spent the night tied up to the town quay. Our arrival was almost textbook, despite a cross wind, so it was fun a short while later on to watch a professional skipper on a boat slightly larger than Zaffina make a complete pig's ear of his berthing, amidst much shouting and swearing at his crew.
On Sunday we meandered a short way along the coast to Pirgos, one of several anchorages on the south coast, and I had my first swim ashore with the ropes of the season - not my favourite task, especially when the water is still pretty chilly, but worth it for the security we have once we're tied from both stern quarters, as well as firmly anchored in situ. As Sundays go, it was pretty idyllic, just lazing on board, swimming occasionally and watching other boats - mostly large motoryachts with crew on board - come in and tie up nearby. But when evening fell, we were one of only two boats remaining at anchor, and spent a perfect and peaceful night on a remarkably calm sea. For our first night at anchor of the season, it really couldn't have been better.
It was an early start on Monday as we needed to be back in port for the engineers, but we'd overlooked one vital fact...using the engines for an hour meant they were too hot to work on when we got back into Flisvos and consequently we had to put the work back by another day. Very frustrating, especially as the sea conditions have been perfect since the weekend, and we were hoping to get down to the Cyclades this week; instead, we're still waiting for the blowers to be fixed, but the good news (keeping fingers firmly crossed) is that the engineers said they've managed to repair them so they don't need to be replaced after all, and they should be fitted tomorrow morning. Watch this space!

Aghia Efimia to Aegian

After two nights in Aghia Efimia we were off again, this time heading east for brand new for cruising grounds. The Ionians faded into a lilac haze as we ventured into the Gulf of Patras, the channel leading eventually to the Corinth Canal and the entrance to the Aegean. For most of the journey, the sea was delightfully calm, but after we'd passed under the Patras Bridge, which is famous for something (aren't all bridges?) but I can't remember what, things chopped up a little. No great problem, as it was on the stern and giving us an easy ride until the last part of our journey when we approached the tiny island of Trizonia. No, we'd never heard of Trizonia either and I agree, it does sound like a made-up name for the baddie's lair in Thunderbirds, but it really does exist, honest. Frank brought Zaffina in well despite the wind and the slight obstacle of a sunken yacht in the middle of the marina, serving as a reminder not to pull the plug out when you're on a boat, and a very grumpy Scotsman who almost scuppered our efficient arrival by tugging ridiculously hard on the bow rope I'd thrown him. We were already being pushed rapidly onto the berth and could have done without the extra impetus, but despite his "help", we tied on successfully as he retired ungracefully to his yacht grumbling about motorboats under his breath. 

Once we had made fast, we ventured out to explore our surroundings, and the tiny port turned out to be very picturesque, with a handful of tiny cafes on the quayside and a ridiculous number of stray but well-fed cats gazing in rapt adoration at anyone likely to throw scraps to them. 

The wind was relentless throughout the night and despite the shelter of the marina, it was a noisy stay with waves slopping against the hull, but by the time we rose in the morning, things had calmed down a little and we were able to get away without too much ado, and fortunately without the help of the grumpy Scot. We only had a short trip ahead, and although conditions weren't bad, neither were they that nice, so it was a relief to arrive at our next stop Galixidhi - and not only a relief, but also a delight when we saw how pretty the place was, with a harbour-side of multi-coloured houses and tavernas backed by a small hill with an elegant church at the top. Although we'd worried about getting a berth, we were lucky enough to find a spot on the quayside where we could moor starboard-to, and then relax and watch the comings and goings from our great vantage point. Later that day, we realised how lucky we were to have set out early - other boats, which came in later, told of unpleasant conditions and rising wind. We ended up with a yacht rafted alongside us that had set off from the same port earlier in the day, battled against the winds for five hours and eventually turned round and returned to their starting point after encountering winds of 55 knots.

With the forecast for more wind, we hired a car and drove to Delphi, home of the Oracle and site of impressive ancient ruins on Mount Parnassas. Our arrival unfortunately coincided with a couple of coach trips, but once we managed to bypass the crowds, the site was breath-taking and brought to mind the gods of ancient Greece. Apparently Zeus sent out a couple of eagles from either side of the heavens, and announced that wherever they met would be deemed to be the centre of the world. They met in Delphi. Joanna Lumley explains all this stuff better than I do - I wish I'd concentrated more when I saw her wonderful programmes on Greece recently. The stadium at the top of the site, where the Delphi Games were held (foreruners - in every sense - of the Olympics) was simply amazing and almost deserted as the guided tours finished at the amphitheatre below. 

At this point I would like to advise you never, ever, to eat at the Delphi Museum Cafe. It is beyond horrible. 

We drove further up the mountain to see what was there and found ourselves in a ski resort. It seemed rather incongruous after we'd just been wandering around ancient Greece in the sunshine, and positively wintery as well with the temperature around 10 degrees cooler than a few miles below. 

On Saturday we finally departed from Galixidhi and continued our trek up the gulf. The sky was grey and the sea had rather too many white crests for my liking, but we'd been in port long enough and according to the forecast, the worst of the wind had passed and this was a good time to be moving on. Although the sun kept promising to break through the cloud, it failed to deliver until we were almost at the entrance to the Corinth Canal, when finally the skies cleared to a pristine blue and we were able to cast off sweaters and enjoy the sun's rays.

We had been apprehensive about the time we would have to wait to go through the canal, as the pilot booked warned that waiting times can be up to three hours, but as luck would have it, as we approached we could see the yachts that had been milling around the entrance suddenly line up and disappear. Frank called the control when we were still a mile out, fearful that we were too late and would have to wait for these to get through and then the westbound traffic to take a turn, but to our surprise they kept the gates open for us and with no delay whatsoever, we sailed into the Corinth Canal. 

And what an experience it was! The sun was beating down on us, the sky a jagged line of blue high above, sandwiched between two towering sand-coloured cliffs. It is impossible, I think, to sail through here without thinking of the feat of engineering that created this pathway between two seas, and imagining the ancient peoples who had to make the trek overland, with carts and livestock, before the creation of this canal. Several bridges spanned the gash through which we sailed, and viewers peered down at us, taking photographs and watching our progress, as we savoured the short journey into the Aegean. And then stopped at the Canal office to pay an eyewatering 375 euros for the pleasure!

After a brief stop for lunch and sunbathing between the Corinth Canal and Athens, we entered Flisvos Marina, a modern development and apparently Greece's only 5 star marina, where we were expertly guided to our berth and helped to tie up. 

And more on Flisvos and Athens shortly…