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| In 2005 we bought a Jeanneau Sun Oddessy 37 ft in Pula, Croatia, this blog follows our travels from 2007, when we return in June and continue our journey down through Croatia and into Italy and Greece, and in future years further on to Turkey and who knows where else |
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| Sadly no more beautiful blue and warm sailing for us again this year. We have now been home about 1 month, and sometimes it hasn't been easy. We had a frost at Labour weekend, about 24th October, which tickled up some of our hydrangea flower buds. Fortunately not too much damage and we expect to start picking early December and exporting the flowers to the States and Japan mostly. Right now it is grey and drizzly. I will be dropping a not into here periodically to keep it alive. I might invest in an apple .web next year, but I will let you know. So that is me over and out for now | ||
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| Lake Como was another must see place. We stayed in a lovely little town of Bellagio which is at a dead end, as it were, so traffic is not a problem, in fact it is mostly a dead end altogether. Mostly it is a no car zone. Lake Como is a lake with two fingers you might say, and Bellagio is right in the middle. On our first day we took the ferry day trip which let us jump on and off the ferry in the middle part of the lake as many times for 10 euro. We went to Tremezzo and alighted and walked down to the next village, Menaggio, our justification for the refreshments which would inevitably follow. We decided at this point it was a good move to stay in Bellagio, as we walked along a busy main road, the little piazzo of Menaggio was rather quaint though, and we enjoyed some very nice blanco vino and pizza here. Then onto the ferry to Varenna and back to Bellagio. The backdrop of high mountains and lovely blue deep water, not unlike Queenstown, but with lots of beautiful little villages and good Italian food. We had set out on a walking tour of the suburbs of Bellagio on the first day, before venturing off the track somewhere, and conducted a made up tour of our own inadvertently. We made another attempt at the published walking tour, and discovered some lovely little streets and suburbs and views of the lake, and also a walk through a privately owned villa on the lakefront, the gardens so beautifully cared for. There are a lot of Villas in this area. Later on we watched the Allblacks blitz the Scots at rugby, couldn’t understand why their colours had to be so much the same mind you. We watched in the back of a café/pub in a little sports room, where we partook in a small beer for a hideous $7nz each, certainly beer is expensive to drink, cheaper to go for the wine. The committee voted for a night in after that, what might be described as a forced diet, as it was to be an early rising, well earlier than we have become accustomed to anyway. And indeed it was a big day which went relatively to plan. Fast ferry from Bellagio to Como, train to Milan, a big station which we thought was the Central station, but oh no, so onto the subway to Centrale Milan, and a beautiful train to Sestri Levante which is in the vicinity of Cinque Terre. The train system here can work very well, the Euro star trains for the big hauls are fabulous, but still I often think trains go through the slummier parts of the cities, and in the countryside it can be beautiful, but often buffered by bush or tunnels. Then we get to the regional trains, as the one from Sestri L. A short journey where the train stops in the middle of a tunnel for a while as a fast train swoops by, or in the station while waiting the scheduled train to arrive might be 30 minutes late or be completely cancelled. Still, there is soon another to replace it, so keep up the low blood pressure system. It seemed to me that coming closer to Cinque Terre it was looking most unattractive still, (this bedraggled look I was talking about before) and suddenly Vernazza appeared, most of the journey going through tunnels. One might have thought it would be a noisy spot, but we hardly ever heard a train while there, just a small rumble if noticed at all. We found our abode, a reasonable sized room, but not much light, very tidy and clean, on the 1 ½ floor in the piazza, and yes we thought we deserved a small snort by now. We woke to a most glorious day and investigated the ferry situation, the little lady at her little card table urged us to take the trip today, storm coming tomorrow. Though we thought this was just a sales pitch, we purchased said ticket anyway and had a splendid day travelling down to Portavanere via some of the other of the 5 villages (as you might be aware Cinque as in 5 and Terre as in villages, they are 5 quaint fishing villages generally inaccessible by cars and walking tracks between them all). It was a perfect glassy day, we even saw a Jenneau Sun Odyssy 37 ft like Wrighteau in the marina at P. and oddly enough didn’t feel a pang of despair that it wasn’t W. this was new times afterall. We boarded another ferry which took us around the two little islands holding strategic naval points, and much said over the loud speaker which would have meant a lot more to us if we understood Italian. Our journey back stopped at the same little villages until we disembarked onto our little platform of Vernazza. The little harbour was home to numerous beautiful little loved and pampered old fishing boats, and on the glassy water they looked so at peace. My how things change so dramatically over one night. In our room it was difficult to detect if the sun had even come up, let alone what weather conditions might greet us, but as we stepped into the piazza the first thing to alert us was white water, then the pandemonium of fishing boats being hauled out and laid to rest in the piazza. White water was pounding the breakwater, and over the top. Where our little ticket lady had so wisely told us yesterday to go ferry riding, it was now being routinely doused with sea spray, and the boarding jetty mostly submerged. Eventually their work done, the piazza, where we had previously milled about aimlessly, was filled with boats. No ferry running today. It was still not raining, so we boarded the train to Cornaglia where we walked the track to the next village, Manarola. Where the previous day we saw people and youngsters jovially dipping and swimming in the calm waters it was now a chaotic washing machine which became a very dangerous playground. We felt very lucky to have both experiences. We dined handsomely in Manarola before taking the “lovers lane” to Ramaggiore, so called because it is a pretty easy run, and the lovers always ambled this one, quite rightly so. From there we took a ride back to our village on the train, another quiet night in and since we discovered if we kept the windows shut it was super quiet a very good night sleep had. Oh horror of all horrors, it looked like rain was on its way, and sure enough as we headed up the street with our luggage, the heavens opened. We are not accustomed to this inconvenience, I’d hate you to think that WE thought we might melt with the rain, but after 3 months and only 10 hours over about 4 days of rain, well this was not in the script at all. It came and went, we made the station, the train, and our next destination, Comogli. This is around the corner from Portofino, apparently the happening place to be, but very expensive so Comogli was a good option. Actually it seems like a lot of potential holds here, but unfortunately we have had a most inclement day of intermittent rain, so we will have to wait until tomorrow to enjoy our lovely treat, our sea front terrace. One funny thing, tonight we went back to a little delhi we discovered today, bought our bottle of red, and a few little antipastas, and she proceeded to wrap the bottle and even tie a lovely red bow. Funny little thing tickle our fancy sometimes. ……….. this will be the last blog probably, so I will keep posts up as we discover Portafino and St Magharita………………. Getting a bit put out by inclement weather conditions, we are just not accustomed to precipitation, it started today with great promise, not completely sunny conditions, but encouraging nonetheless. We set out with high excitement on the train to St Margarita, only one stop and 6 minutes down the track, but with a delayed train, took 40 minutes. St M was quite a busy and happening place compared to Comogli, we caught a ferry to Portafino, just a very short ride away and tiny little harbour which was a bit frantic now I just wonder how bad it could be in the height of summer. After imbibing in a pretty swished meal, we wandered around, and saw a few shenanigans with some chartered yachts trying to moor with completely inexperienced crew, and exceedingly tricky conditions, with big swells shunting them around, and precariously towards other boats and each other. We then passed by a 70 foot yacht which was also battling the forces of moving water, we also wondered how much experience this crew had, as the steering wheel flew around without being slashed down, and one of their main worries would have been abated had they just pulled up tighter on their anchor chain. This all just took our memories back to our Wrighteau and away from the inclement weather conditions we were finally experiencing. We sought refuge in a happening little café, we found we were not so extravagant when we spoke to a lovely American couple, who it transpired he started a radio sports station in usa, and they are staying at a hotel in Portifino for 900 euro a night, which makes our extravagance a paltry indulgence. We just decided to leave as a massive downpour had people scurrying, but we made it back to the railway station and back to Camogli. Our lovely sea terrace still hasn’t been used for the aperitifs with the beautiful sunsets, but it is a splendid platform for viewing the tremendously rough seas which are pounding in relentlessly. So that is pretty much the end of Italy, just today left, and a very early start to tomorrow, catching the train to the airport at 6.20 am. Today we are taking it quietly, perhaps a return to St Margarita which we did not see much of. The sea continues to pound outside. Yes it is sinking in that the 2007 sailing sojourn has ended. Right up until the end we have had a dream run with the weather, our last night on Wrighteau on the hardstand of Preveza Marine it was a oppressive 27 degrees at 11pm. Croatia seems a million light years away now. We enjoyed the Ionian Sea, the food started with some hope for me, but actually it was pretty mish mash in the end. The people were on the whole very friendly but we didn’t experience the restaurants, or in their case tavernas, with the character and people meeting characteristics of Croatian island restaurants. This is not to compare, because they are both completely different, and we certainly saved money on charges to simply anchor and the lack of expensive marinas. We coped very well without solar panels, the small mini markets sold iced water bottles which got us by, and we are very good at saving water, so no problem there. The weather and wind conditions were great, but it was a lucky year I think, Croatia was kind also. | ||
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| Things went swimmingly well with our clean up task in Lefkas, perfect day for washing down the sails, and deck washing etc. And in the morning yet another sunny day to wake up to in the late 20’s. I had to make a visit to the Port Police to sign off the Taits, and, yes you guessed it, another hitch, nearly. My first encounter was suggesting to me that we had to go back to the issuing office which was Nidri. Oh no I do not, was my repeated response, and fortunately his companion extricated himself from the phone, and could clear the situation up in haste. All the Port Police offices seem to have a different story, and they usually look blankly at us in panic when we appear at all looking like they have absolutely no idea what is the procedure. Actually speaking to many Brits since being at Preveza Marine we believe it is better to stay well clear of them. We think that next year that will be our tack. So back to the boat, and by 11.40 we were untied and heading up the canal to be at the bridge on the hour when it opened up. I get quite a buzz out of the whole canal and bridge opening event, all marching up in procession and hovering in wait. On the other side we were blessed with a lovely breeze to have a splendid sail for our second to last day on the water. In fact we sailed all the way around to Vonista, getting a bit slow at times, but peaceful and nice. We needed that extra sail area of a Hanse this day. Vonista had a few boats in the bay, but a lot less than last time which is a rather lonely feeling meaning the end of the season is nigh. The original plan was to walk over the quaint bridge and into the village for a bite to eat, but plans are made to be broken or changed, and a slap up snack of very little was presented on board instead. Our last morning to wake to on board was predictably sunny, we always have a very heavy dew. We made a small stop in Preveza the town, it really is a good place for finding all sorts of things, and at 1pm we were lifted out of the water. The bottom of Wrighteau was in very good nick, which was pleasing. We are in the Preveza Marine, there are 3 side by side, and we have tripped on the best one we believe. The staff are very friendly and very efficient. The facilities are excellent and the other boating people we have met are great and helpful also. We got to with our putting her to bed, as we thought we only had 1 ½ days to complete the task. We were going to have to have a night in Athens as the bus would not connect with the plane to Milan. However it transpired that the marina would organise a taxi which would prove to be the most adventure sporting event we have partaken in. So on with the task of bedding down our boat. We found ourselves copying other examples, and doing much more than we did with Slaven. We covered winches, using mouse cord lifted halyards up to the top of the mast, and wrapped them all in a sail back and strapping them up. Sails off of course, which we do anyway, and by the time we left on Thursday morning nearly in the dark it was a very denuded and sad and sorry looking sight. Then the journey to Italy, oh boy. First of all the taxi was running late, this was an ominous beginning. 20 minutes late he arrived, madly squashed in the luggage, and we set off happily with two other people in the car, a lovely lady speaking impeccable English who owns a few clothes stores. For some reason we stopped at Vonista, it turned out to be because our taxi who had slept in finally caught up with us, and we were transferred. The luggage was clearly not going to fit in, so the boot was tied down with rope, another stop had packs of meat sitting on the boot, untied, while we drove gently around a few corners to pick up more stuff. So the boot was tied down again, just a little more open. Then the journey began, driving like a mad thing, we flew past his friend, the original taxi. Like the tortoise and the hare, we stopped at the halfway spot for coffee, where his comrade also joined us. They set off again before us, and again we shot past them at pace, he would roar up behind people and I constantly had my foot firmly on the brakes. Drivers are very good here at keeping over to the side, and a two lane highway is in effect a 4 lane highway. Mind you if I saw us looming up at such a rate I also would be getting to the side pretty smartly. By the time we hit the 4 lane motorway we were zapping along at 150 to 160 km. Suddenly we came to a stop, I thought it must have been a traffic cop, but it transpired that his friend was involved in an accident with another taxi who fled the scene without stopping. This just resulted in our pace lifting to 170 km as we tried to catch up to the culprit. We didn’t catch him, but there was no doubt we were going to catch our plane in time, he got us to the airport about in about 4 hours. The flight went to plan, and every connection from Milan airport to Lake Como went smoothly. Actually the first one was a bit lucky. We met a nice man at the carousel living in Milan who warned us about travel and directions in Italy, it is not always as it seems, he said. We found some helpful information staff, tickets bought we gaily set off to the train, and sitting waiting, this same man arrived down but he felt it was the wrong place. We confidently sat in wait, but from the sitting train on the other side they waived frantically and we just made it into the correct train. The connecting train at Sarrono followed in a few moments, and we had just moments to wait for the ferry to Bellagio. When we arrived at Bellagio we fell instantly in love with it, the people all so friendly, and just beautiful. Our apartment at Residenza Antico Pozzo is a bit extravagant maybe, but right in the hub, up a tiny street, quiet clean and spacious. It was a joy to go out to an Italian restaurant and have some wonderful Italian food. A gastronomic delight, perhaps I can feel an inch or two to be gained around the girth here. | ||
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| Oh dear, we are getting down to perhaps the last blog from Wrighteau before we head off to Italy with our land legs. Spatakhori was indeed a nice bay, but the swell was immense and with not so much water below us we were a bit anxious. The Taverna owner behaved arrogantly, and we were of course obliged to eat at his Taverna, but it was not a memorable night. Next day we returned to Aberlike which is fast becoming our favourite bay, our German and Austrian friends still there, so it was like returning home. We went into Nidri where one of the Charter companies, Neilson Charters, are good enough to let us have a berth on their pier, out of Charter return days. As it happened it was a busy day getting stores, and organising things for new guests Jane, Rob and Ju duly arrived as we were racing off to find more gas for the boat, which is no easy feat when arriving into Greece with a silver bottle not a blue one. We were a bit shell shocked when we arrived to the bar they had situated themselves at for a beer, and onto the boat for a slap up snack, or platter mezze style. In the morning we felt obliged to go to the port police to sign off Jeremy Dean and sign on the Tait family, but what ensued is a bit of a horror, the first horror in Greece. The all dressed in white official glared us on entrance, and demanded “what you want?” We have come to report in, and sign in some more passengers. From then we were in there for a good 45 minutes getting a proper grilling, and constant growling, and positively the rudest person I have met in my entire life to this point. Keeping my cool as one must, I felt in a different body looking on, every now and again glancing to the crew who threw a horrified glance back. Finally the passports were THROWN down me, and my last ditch effort at friendliness said Yasas, (good bye) but of course no response. Well this put us slightly behind our schedule, but off we set, motoring and then a bit of sailing down to Fiskardo. What I failed to remark about Fiskardo is that is is on a muddy base which saved it from being obliterated in a big earthquake which damaged so much of the island of Kephalonia. I also failed to mention that it is known as quite a hub for tourists. The tourists were not so obvious, but someone with money must certainly visit, as the boutique clothes shops are a bit frightening, perhaps even Wendy’s would not sell a tiny pair of red denim shorts for 450 euro, that is $900 nz. My figure would not carry them, so Joe was safe on that occasion. We anchored with a line ashore again, masterfully carried out, with Joe on the anchor of course, and a quick Rob jumping out of the blocks with stern line attached and off to the wall and bollard. The bay shortly after that filled up pretty quickly. We ventured into the village for a wander around before a cheeky little curry and red wine on board. A short trip next day to Ay Nickalaou gave us some pleasant sailing time, and a pleasant bay with good secure holding. Lots of swimming was appreciated by all, and some more good eating many thanks to Ju who excelled with left overs swept up into a feast. In the night the wind became slightly ferocious, possibly 30 knots, so at 3am we let out some more chain, in 12 metres or so we had out 60 metres, so there was no moving us. Oh well, another blue sunny sky to wake up to, our fruit and cornflakes breakfast and then off. We have however noticed the fruit is becoming slightly less appealing, end of season I guess. Jane laughed at my fussiness this morning, not up to my standard after so much outstanding fruit. It was very definitely a motoring day, so many boats going hither and tither, I can only wonder and fear the business of July and August, when they tell us it is mad crazy. Might have to re-evaluate our holiday strategy for next year. This is also on a shipping lane as we weaved in and out of three big ships in a within 15 minutes. All this hot and bothering called for a dip, so just of Meganisi we depowered and, making sure that someone remained on the boat, jumped off to flounder in 100 metres of blue fresh water. Ah yes, all agreed that this was definitely the way to live. We had another night in Port Atheni and walked to the village, and evening meal at the Taverna, where there was to be some Greek dancing. Well the waiter, chef and owner did their thing briefly, then engaged the punters for an all-in jig, then some very western music, so we all jigged about for quite some time before successfully navigating our way back to Wrighteau. Yes another sunny morning to wake to, I was so desperate to have the Genniker up for the team, and coming out of the bay it looked so promising, sheets at the ready, halyard all set to go, then the routine frustration, the wind followed us round, so a gentle motor around the Onnasis island, Skorpious. We lunched in a perfect little spot, the water so clear we could identify all the pebbles on the sea floor at 5 metres. Some rebels keen to be photographed on the prohibited island, off they went. A van came down when another yacht crew ventured above the high tide mark so he briskly swam back to his boat. We returned out our favourite little Aberlike bay, usual reliable teamwork, and conscientious stern line master, Rob, all in place nice and neat. We tramped our well worn track to the village of Vathi for Pizza at the Twins, which most fortuitously is a favourite of Ju. Just before we finished and left, (fortunately just before we finished) their band started up. I had no idea their music sounds so Egyptian and we half expected a snake to rise up from somewhere, but also the funny thing about this music was the drummer seemed to be off on another tangient, completely different moment in time, and one third one, the bass guitar, all on a different plane completely. Yes this was a pretty good time to make our escape for our evening stroll home. This brings us to this morning, and it is getting perilously close to our packing up Wrighteau. We stopped for a swim beside Jackie Onassis retreat cottage, Jane swam over and when she was slow to return I swam over to check things out, she was waiting there for Jackie to produce the tea and small cakes. Joe and Rob thought they also could smell the scones and joined us, but no dice, so we returned to instant coffee on Wrighteau and up anchor and though the canal to Lefkada, where we partook in our last supper and vino together, packed up and a fond farewell. The rest of today will be a quietish time, it is too windy to hoist the sails to wash them, so we will have a bit of a tidy up tomorrow before perhaps getting to Vonista for our last night out at anchor. | ||
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| Well apart from all the rowdy partying and disco music Preveeza really did approve in the end. We were told that the residential areas around the centre complained about the noise, and so they erected a big wall or something, and the music is worse over the harbour at the marina hardstands, or at anchor around the corner, as it acts as an auditorium, I find it hard to believe it could be worse, but that’s the word. We found some really good shops for useful things, including a rat trap in case we, or the nectarine, are bitten twice. We made some very good contacts for getting solar panels fitted next year, it is proving to be a most important addition to Wrighteau as we move down to the higher temperatures, and apparently July and earlier August were worse, God forbid. On Monday at 11pm it was still 30 degrees. We have been enjoying some really good Greek food which surprises us, our experience of 8 years or so ago was not good with food, and the pilot book was not encouraging about it either. Moussaka is a favourite, and of course their Greek salad is also a favourite. Very few Greek folk seem to drink alcohol, and one bar we went to and had 3 beers, each time she came back with a large plate of little toastie sandwiches and bits, so it proved to be our lunch. There are so many bars about and filled to the gunnels with alcohol, but who to drink it, lucky for them we arrived. We left in the morning on a predictably sunny hot morning, we have now been 8 weeks on the boat, and have yet to see a drop of rain, the sea flat calm, and had only 10 miles to motor to reach the Lefkas Canal, leaving the mainland again, though Lefkas is joined by a lifting and turning bridge. They are sure to call themselves an island as they get special privileges being an island. It opens every hour on the hour, we arrived with 10 minutes to spare and all trooped past the open bridge, and down the canal. If you have “Google earth” downloaded on your computer you should check it out. It is surrounded by a mass of salt flats, apart from a narrow channel, quite interesting to travel through. At Lefkas we went to the marina to charge up, get the fridge cold etc, and a few other things, and went a walk into the village in the balmy evening. Apparently in July it was 48 degrees for a few days, sounds a bit frightening for our return next year. We had two nights at the marina before completing the canal trip out the other end. The navigational marks are fairly crude, but effective none the less, it is quite a narrow channel indeed. Out the other end we were entering the Inland Sea, a mass of water snugly surrounded by land and islands. We were quite excited about the big completely sheltered bay just a minute further on from Nidri, which was called Vlikho which looked superb in the pilot book, we anchored well and soon discovered that it must be a bit of a collection point at the end of the line for undesirables, the stench was unbearable in the heat of the day, and the water was most uninvitingly dirty. Must admit I didn’t see many swimming, but I just couldn’t stay out, and so far my health is still good. Mind you at 33 degrees, not sure how refreshing it really was actually. Next day we set out in search of somewhere fresh and clean, and we found Atheni on the island of Meganisi, and this was a big indent with lots of little bays more than suitable for a nice stop. We went right to the end and anchored in about 10 metres. A few boats started to come in, one of them a smaller yacht with Chris and Daniel who invited us for a wine after dinner. We went to the Taverna for a very nice meal, actually eating out is not hideously expensive, and their house red is very nice usually, so for 25 Euro we had a jolly good meal, and that included a litre to take away. We joined Chris who is Welsh, sailing his yacht with a kufunkt engine, the pistons did whatever they shouldn’t, resulting in a very slow trip down to Malta with only a small outboard fizzing along, motoring into the wind they are lucky to get along at 2 knots, I would imagine that would not be a strong wind even. So he has recruited Daniel, a lovely Aussie chap, to help him along, which is a real blessing for him. We woke next day to blue skies and sunny of course, and went for a walk to the village on the hill, very cute, and I was quite taken by the friendliness of absolutely everyone. Very few spoke English, which proved that it is not a barrier to a big friendly smile, and one of the 5 expressions I have now grasped, Hello. We found a most unlikely little bar which was most certainly a local meeting spot, and again all most jolly and welcoming. We came back into Nidri to collect Sarah McDonald who had travelled down through Albania overnight, we decided to give the bay opposite Nidri, a reasonably sized dinghy ride away, and we were pleasantly satisfied that this was fresher and cleaner, and perfectly ideal. We have been told that Nidri is just too touristy, but we found it to be quite nice, and plenty of useful shops to get supplies, including the best Chandlery shop we have encountered yet. We signed Sarah on with the port police in the morning before heading south to Savota. We had met an English chap in Café de Paris who said get there early to watch the carnage of all the yachts coming in to try to berth, and it certainly did not disappoint. The first one to entertain was a big 45 foot yacht, they had a bit of their headsail out, unfortunately they couldn’t see that having that out was only dragging them around when the wind caught them broadside trying to back into the quay. After so many efforts they came up our end, a bit concerning, we were able to ask if they could get their headsail in, “Impossible” was their reply. We just said, tie is down or anything, just get it smaller. Later on I noticed someone managed to get on to help and they anchored out. There were various ones who tried to anchor in one particular patch, and just had no success, quite near us. We had been told before coming down here that anchoring in the weed is sometimes impossible and dragging is inevitable, a bit alarming we thought. So I thought this must be one of those spots, but in the morning snorkelling over it I found a bit of weed, but no more than we were in, so we have decided that our Brittany and about 7 to 1 ratio sometimes, that is metres of chain to metre of depth, seems to be comfortingly effective for us. Then there are always people anchoring over the top of others anchors, we saw a couple of anchors being pulled up by this method. And finally the cat which decided to anchor like this in front of us, but much persuading rather forcefully gave them the message, and they got so huffy they left the bay completely. Savota did not disappoint, and the food is still agreeing with us, Sarah and I had a Kleftiki which is a sort of a lamb casserole, with beautiful flavours. Joe’s swordfish he loved, and all too much for us, so it was able to feed us for lunch the next day also. We were hopeful of a Genniker sail over to Fiscardo, which is only an eleven mile stint, but of course on the nose. However we thought we must give Sarah some sailing to report back to Les, so we set off 30 degrees off course, but as we neared Ithaki the wind sneaked round and we sailed all the way into Fiscardo, albeit with the motor at the end to charge up the batteries. It is a tight little bay, we had hoped to get onto the quay, but that was full, we found a suitable spot to back in, Sarah armed with the anchoring device the windlass, and Joe ready to swim. It was copy book stuff, and we were soon going to settle down to a beer in great satisfaction, but the yachts started to pour in so attention was needed. A nice English couple in their charter boat came near, I swam over our anchor chain as they looked periously close to dragging their anchor over it while they sorted their stern lines out. In the end they rafted up to us while things were sorted out, and shortly all settled down for our lunch and refreshments. Again we went into the big smoke, and we are slightly disappointed that we have not met the people we did when we dined out in Croatia, but it is early days yet I guess, and also near the end of the season. Well next day we met up with our neighbour on their smaller Jeanneau, Klaus and Birgette, the most delightful German couple, in fact after lunch he called in to drop off some pastries on his way back to his boat. Between he and me, swimming around with lines of boats coming in beside us, we had a healthy swimming day, in fact the nice couple I helped gave us a bottle of white wine which was most appreciated. We were having a second night as on the 5th of September we received our first rain since 4th July, albeit rather brisk and gone fairly quickly. We were well settled in, and after a nice walk around the lighthouse, we ventured back into the quay for dinner, joining Klaus and Birgette and some German twins, and a wife of one of them. We had a most jolly time, and on our way back to our dingy found the Aussies on the cat whom we saw in Brindisi. After a wine with them, bed was welcomed. Next day we found the forecast was not so good, in fact we have just noticed it cooling down, a rather drastic 20 degrees registered at one point, we hope it is just a temporary glitch. We started earlyish, and sailed most of the way back to Meganisi to the most beautiful bay of Abeliki where we anchored and tied a stern line ashore. This night we had homemade Moussaka, I have to say we have nearly had our fill of Moussaka, but in the morning it started with a strong thunderstorm and a torrential downpour, which washed the decks beautifully and cleared the air, the mountains and surroundings now look so crisp and clear. So the evening brought upon a nice walk up amongst the olive groves, and the herd of sheep with their bells clanging and onto the village of Vathi. The yachts moored here were getting a bit of a pounding with the prevailing wind and big swell, would never be a choice for us, but we did enjoy a wonderful Pizza in “the twins” it was just wonderful, and then a cool walk home. My word the temp was cool. We had a wonderful sleep, we found ourselves a most sheltered spot indeed. So now it was time to deliver Sarah back to Nidri to continue her travels, we anchored near the town, and dinghied in. Sarah has been battling a stomach upset, so she went to the doctor, and shortly after we delivered her to the bus, and after a spot of lunch made our way out to Spartakhori, which is a beautiful bay on Meganisi, but we have been put into a very tricky berth, and there is quite a swell. We are certainly safe, but getting out tomorrow might be a bit of fun. So that is all for now. We just have a couple of days before the Taits arrive, our sailing days are nearly over, boo hoo. | ||
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| Well we did indeed have a second night in Lakka, but the crew voted my chicken curry ahead of the lamb meal out, so who was I to debate it. We bought a lilo which Jeremy spent the rest of the day learning how to control, and generally relaxed. We then travelled down Paxos island stopping at Longos for a swim, and then through Gaio, a longish town area, with an island outside, so we meander around a kind of canal. Jeremy said it felt a bit like Venice, it was quite a pretty little drive. Then on to Mongonisi where we anchored and tied stern to. This also was a beautiful part, and we were very lucky this night was not a franticly noisy and musical night, some English folk next door told us of the loud noise last night. We ate out on oven lamb and a cocktail to finish. It was an early start to get around to Gaio to the sea plane, not sure if it was the early morning start we are not used to, or the cocktails from the previous night, but we successfully put out the anchor, and I gently motored back and I leave it gently in reverse to try and keep us straight, and payed out the line for Joe to swim ashore with, when he suddenly alerted me to the face that I was not watching what I was doing, and I was paying too much, the excess was being drawn into the prop. Actually it might be debated that he wasn’t swimming fast enough. Anyway, off with the kit, and on with the goggles, and actually I found it just settled gently over the prop, and not wound around. I was a bit lucky all round. We took Jeremy to the seaplane, a bit of a surprise on his face as he expected to get onto the big ferry in port, and felt a bit flat when he flew off. So a bit of a discovery of the village, and just lots of swimming. The only saving factor is being able to just throw off all clothing and plunge into the cool water, which by the way is 33 degrees, at a whim. It horrifies me to think of those soldiers in Irag Joe talks about enduring heat of 45 degrees and having to drink 100 litres a day to stay alive and to be wearing all that soldiers kit. I feel over-clothed when I have on the emperor’s pajamas in 37 degrees. The next day however, we were slightly unhinged with the discovery in the early hours of the morning of a nibbled nectarine and the possibility of an unpaying and unwanted passenger. We felt the strong likelihood it might be still with us, so we thought the port police might be able to give us some pointers, a rat on a yacht is a grim situation, and we thought it might start nibbling at the wiring. We actually saw a big fat one on the land in the morning hip hopping along, might have been the same one. The port police couldn’t me less helpful, and laughed themselves silly. We decided to make a run for it to Preveeza, a bigger place, and asked them for a forecast, pretty sketchy one, they didn’t seem to know if they were talking in Beaufort or knots for the strength of wind. Actually in the end they must have been talking in knots, we motored all the way. We were fortunate to encounter an friendly antipodeans neighbour from Australia working on charter, who dropped off his rat trap, and meanwhile I befriended a supermarket manager, Spiero, who did not have any rat glue, but found some and drove me all the way to the other supermarket to get it. He refused to be photographed with the rat glue, but agreed to be photographed by his van. I think he thought there was some question as to my psychiatrical state. So all traps activated we slept awaiting some sort of action, and finding none established that the larder was not to its satisfaction, and it left as soon as it arrived. It has been a bit of a lesson, we are now forewarned and forearmed. So now with the rat situation under control we had a night at Vonista, a nice bay which we could have walked over the pretty bridge and 1 km to the village, it was pretty windy and we decided to stay put. Back in Preveeza before heading further south we have made contact with the yard where we are going to leave Wrighteau on the hard stand, and found that we can certainly “lock up” the boat for 6 months meaning that will come off the time we are allowed to keep it in Greece before having to register it as an EU boat, which will give us the option to have another full year here next year if we like. Mind you, in the town today it is said to be over 40 degrees, so there won’t be much town quay time spent in this heat. Preveeza is said not to be touristy, and granted not many people speak English, but I don’t know who will fill all the hundreds of bars along the esplanade if some tourists don’t come along to help. It is not madly attractive, but has everything we need. My helpful supermarket man alerted me to all the fires on the Peloponese, last night at anchor we thought we might have seen some of the smoke coming from there. Next stop Lefkas and the inland sea, looks pretty good and looking forward to it. Bye bye all | ||
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| Well we have now been here in Greece for a total week, and we still haven’t found rude people, we have even enjoyed the food. And what’s more we haven’t even seen any wind since we have recovered from our big blow. The marina at Gouvia was splendid, the first day we just chilled, had a beautiful moussaka and red wine for lunch, and watched the people go by It was only the second day we discovered it had a pool, which was most welcome in the days ahead. Wednesday was a public holiday so we had some reprieve from the dreaded customs thing, but Thursday rolled around and we caught a taxi into the new port, he had no idea where to drop us, so it was a bit of a fossick really. Without too much trouble we found the customs, the first port of call, and apart from a little surliness this was a quick, efficient and trouble free experience. In the same building we were directed to the Port Police where, again, smiles were not in abundance, but it was lightning quick efficiency and we were out of there to find the pink building where the Port Authority was, trouble was, all the buildings were pink. We tripped upon the right one, and there we received a friendly smile with efficiency. So all round it was much easier than Italy, and we were soon on our way. We walked to the old city, it was time to dine and take stock. After we walked around the corner to find the Esplanade area, a long walking street with café areas lining it, and a cricket ground on the other side. This is the happening place. It is flanked by the old fortress, and on the other side of the old town is the new fortress, which looks pretty old to me. Back at the marina we took advantage of a dip, not many people about. The next day was the start of charter change over, and the pool was packed out, Joe managed to read but there was far too much for me to watch to concentrate on the written word. Little children, brave and not so brave, families, teenagers, all shapes and sizes of course, pretty much everything. Then we decided to take the roads of Greece on. In one of the guide books states ‘the general rules for most part of drivers are don’t give way to anything, don’t overtake unless it’s a blind bend, and don’t take any notice of any road sign. The road networks are not good, so be careful if you think of driving a car.’ So it was with some apprehension that we took the step to hiring a vehicle. We ended up with “special Jimmy”, it was a jeep type thing and actually called a Jimmy. I set out for the passenger’s side, but of course this was actually the driver’s side, so it was me to drive first. Lid down and off we went. After travelling at a snail pace on a yacht for so long, at a gentle 50 km, I felt like we were flying and my co pilot requested a little slower please. In the day we travelled 140 km, on little back roads through very organised looking olive orchards, in fact at one spot we saw a tractor and sprayer ready to start work, though it was so hilly it horrified us. The water around the island was spectacular, the views from our table for lunch at the very top of the island, looking out to the channel we had tackled in Force 7, now without a ripple, and the cliffs with their interesting earthly formations were breathtaking. After lunch we found ourselves on quite a main road continuing around the top of the island, and tripped upon the signpost down to Stephanos, the bay we seeked refuge in after our notorious crossing, again we found it just beautiful, swam and enjoyed that a while before returning with our special Jimmy, rather sad to return him, just getting the hang of this driving thing, on the wrong side and all. At 10.30 Jeremy, my nephew arrived, after a bit of a mix up, it is a bit of a confusing marina, where they put us anyway, we found him, had a few drinks and catching up and found our way to bed in the small hours. So now it was time to meander south, we had a night in Moretos, our first stern line anchoring for the year went without a hitch, snugly in between some Austrians, and a mystery boat unmanned. We were lucky to bump into a New Zealander who is the leader for a “Sailing Holidays’ flotilla, and he kindly gave us one of the guide books they give out to their charter people, and it contained some very interesting tit bits, and it is good to pick the brains of someone like him, also the fact that people on these flotillas have often had no experience so they go to fool proof places. I think it is now more than six weeks on the boat, and we have yet to experience any rain, and there have only been 2 days when we have woken to cloudiness, which has burnt off over the day. We motored into the wind, as one would expect, to our next port of call, Lakka on Paxos. The water colour here is stunning emerald, a wonderful bay which fits copious numbers of boats in. We went in to dine at the recommended restaurant in the Sailing Holidays book, met up with Ewen again, and enjoyed the best Lamb on the spit, so good in fact that we will have a second day here and do it again. We went with Ewen to the cocktail bar, Joe had some flaming thing, after we had one, we decided that was enough and back to the boat we skittled. We were fairly well out, so we upped anchor and moved in further where we think we won’t experience the little bit of swell we did at times last night. So there we are to now, we drop Jeremy off on Friday, he doesn’t know it yet, we have bought him a ticket on the Sea Plane, so he will have a nice trip back to Corfu. Until next time, no, I haven’t managed very well with the Greek language yet, so Bye Bye is all I can manage yet. | ||
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| We recovered after our big night at sea, and enjoyed Brindisi It is a commercial port, there is no denying, but also a nice little town. We stayed at the marina near the centre, and had a prime spot right outside the restaurant. At 10 pm it comes alive, and the second night we ordered a pizza, which the waiter delivered to our doorstep, “pizza for New Zealand?” the waiter asked, didn’t even get our toes wet. Then we settled back down to listen to the newstalk zb live on the back of the boat through the computer. Yesterday after getting fuel, we used about 60 litres coming from Bar, 119 miles, about $3.86 nz an hour, a bit different to those super launches sucking through $1300 nz an hour, we then set off out of the harbour. As we were coming out through the harbour we saw a most horrifying water spout. These water spouts come out of smallish black clouds, start at a cylinder, and join up to the water surface, they can suck water up to 100 metres out of the sea, and in their vortex can reach 120 miles per hour. There were a couple of other clouds which looked a bit ominous, and our neighbouring boat in the marina came racing back in waving his arms hysterically, so these are not to be taken lightly. We were a bit gun shy of course after our Bar to Brindisi debacle, and this put doubt into whether we would venture out or not. There were a couple of other boats stalling, with the same predicament, and finally the clouds moved on, and we all edged out cautiously, and ended up having one of the best sails we have enjoyed in all the 5 weeks we have been on the boat. We put the genniker up in about 10 to 12 knots, and skooted along at 6 and 7 knots. This we were able to do for 30 miles, having to hold our course up because there is a firing range along the way, which we are to keep 5 miles out from shore to avoid a hole being shot though our brightly coloured Genniker. Joe quite rightly thought they would be at church today, and their flags were not flying, so we allowed ourselves to edge inside the zone slightly to keep our Genniker happily flying. So 45 miles later we arrived at Otronto, a very busy port with thousands of little boats going hither and tither. We called at the visitor area, it looked like there was enough room for us, but they told us it was full, when I called on the VHF channel 10 nobody would answer, later I said to Joe “I would rather think the spare berths had no laid lines, I would had to think nobody wants us” We anchored out in the bay, and when all the little craft stopped coming in and jobbling the water, we got a steady night to sleep, well apart from the party revellers ashore. We had been srongly recommended Otronto as a must see town by two different people, and it was quite nice but seething with people, very few of course who would smile at us, or speak English. The old town itself was not a patch on Rovinj or Korcula or so many we loved in Croatia, but I;m pleased we saw it. The last night however was a bit torrid. Firstly our evening entertainment from the cockpit armchair wasn’t at all stimulating, speeches which went on for hours. After OUR bedtime, music banged on, ok to start with, but later some rather scary looking Gypsies we had seen in the day rather painfully thrashed away on their bongo drum and chanted out, til ¬4.30 am. When the drums stopped one of their free radicals spent the next half hour screaming out to sea, probably some imaginary spirit or a lecture to us. Just thinking a bit of shut eye round the corner, and the tunny fishing boats started their procession, and with it the rock and roll of the boat. To add to all of this a phone call at 3am, text at 4am and another at 5.30. The final insult to injury, to be blasted out of the cabin with 7 canon booms just over the rise at 7am. We took this final one as our cue to leave. We had perfect conditions, 12 to 15 knots breeze from NNW, we were travelling SE, a good reach. Rightly or wrongly I understand this Otronto Canale to be slightly feared, so not to leave anything to chance, we gently motored also, getting us along at 7.5 knots. Besides, the ice needed to be made for the evening aperitif. Well we had studied a good forecast for Southern Adriatic and also The Northern Ionian, both clearly stated a steady Force 4, which was just nice. We were only going to go as far as Othoni Island, 45 miles on the way to Corfu, but we read of sand and rocks which may snag an anchor, and decided to go the full distance, making it 75 miles for the day. Well again our luck was down, the wind started rising, to 20 knots and before we knew it we were fighting the waves, well Wrighteau was, she was marvellous, her little wheel went this way and that, and of course so did we, so it was back to life jackets and harnesses and into the Force 7, going over 30 knot wind. This for about the last 5 hours, I can tell you yacht brokers in Corfu were even discussed at this point. We felt great relief to get around the corner where shelter should prevail, and Joe fought the 22 knot breeze and the main sail, or the little we had up by then, and I have to say the atmosphere was a little tense. We finally settled at anchor, the theory is that the wind dies down after sunset, sunset turned out to be about 10pm instead of 8.30. Enough said about all that, but we did wake to a glorious morning, and after our first swim in the Ionian, we motored into the Gouvia marina. We have struck some people who have said that the Greek people are rude and useless, but at the marina here we have only met very friendly and efficient people, especially after coming from Italy, but we do the customs thing tomorrow, so that will be the crunch time. It is very hot, and time to go out and explore. Now next day, last night at 9.30 pm it was 29 degrees, it is going to be a hot one this Greece | ||
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| This blog takes us out for dinner, there’s a change, conversing with folk, a favourite pastime, and travelling down to Bar, and to end it a complete turnaround of plans and then a turn back. We arrived back from our own personal tour inland, travel agents we certainly won’t succeed at, and after a bit of a rest we set off to enjoy our meal at our waterside table we had reserved the previous day. Yes well, that’s what we thought. The excuse was that it was windy the night before, (NOT) and they reserved us one inside (NOT). Keeping calm, we found they had one a few rows back, perfectly nice. We duly ordered our nice little fish, and asked for the Sauvignon wine that we had had the day before. We were advised that there was a strike or some such silly thing, and there was to be no Sauvignon, even though we had just seen a shelf full of it at the supermarket. No worries, later we ordered the Chardonnay, ‘oh no’ we are now informed ‘there is no Chardonnay, just Sauvignon’ ‘Great that will do fine’ Clearly they were going to make more out of us if we ordered imported wine. Well all this just added to our entertainment, and it was a lovely evening, and cunning as they were, they were delightful, AND they were the ones providing me with internet, Holmes and Larry on the zb, and lots of contact home to friends and family. Before returning to the boat we did the mandatory amble down the pier past the super yachts. The skipper of one of them was standing alongside his charge, two baskets with the shoes of all the passengers, two of whom remained to return to the boat, so, being an American he was able and willing to chat. He had a funny tale about all the shoes; people continually came up and peered into the baskets, even tried them on and asked if he had a different size, thinking he was a travelling salesman. This was the second ship his boss owned, the first one was 50 metres, this one built for his mother, Dorothy Lane, named thus, was a paltry 35 metres. It takes 10,000 litres to fill, diesel here is about $1.80 NZ per litre, and they go through about 700 litres an hour. I had imagined all these huge vessels to be inhabited by their owners, but actually a lot of them are chartered out to famous, and/or, clearly, rich people to offset their costs. This particular boat doesn’t take film and music stars, they are rude and disrespectful to person and property. Mariah Carey won’t be spoken to unless she speaks first, and they mustn’t look directly at her when addressing her. Some famous rapper, whose name obviously escapes me, burnt holes in the upholstery with his cigarettes. They shipped it over from the States for a meagre $150,000 US. Up in the morning, our lovely Italians were on their way, and after visiting the market for some more beautiful fresh veges, fruit and fish, we also were off. We motor sailed down to Bar, we didn’t have the greatest hope in this place but we weren’t prepared for the start we had here. Nobody was around to help us, we navigated ourselves into a satisfactory looking berth, and just when we thought we were winning I hooked the aft line leading to the bow just to discover it came to an abrupt end, no bowline attached. We moved onto the next one, where there was some success, but not completely happy with this, Joe went off on shank’s pony and third time lucky we came to our final resting spot. We went off for a walk had a much needed drink, and things were not at this stage on the improve. Some Italians previously met at Kotor who are setting off through Albania, turned up beside us, and a few other civilised looking people also, so things a bit brighter. Then the unthinkable, we woke in the morning, the one boat of Italians were replaced by another boat of Italians who have just come up through Albania. They declare its safety; the harbourmaster backed this up, and guess where we are going. This means another night in Bar, but now I quite like it actually………….. Well as to change of plans, yes they keep changing. We left Bar in the morning early, usual story finding someone who can stamp our passport etc. The previous day we found the Kapitanija, who was a treat, we felt so sorry for him, he rolled up to the office in a little old car about to fall to bits, obviously no WOF here. He was excited we were from NZ, and said he would come back with us, did we have a job for him, said their wages were so small, and the proof if we needed any, was in his car. But in the morning finding the police was a different story, they are the most arrogant and unfriendly we have encountered here, but finally the job done we set out on our next big venture, to Albania. Joe was still edgy about landing in Albania, so the plan was to sail continuously to Greece, about 30 hours. Things started swimmingly, motoring of course, but it was looking like a 10 am arrival. We had little success in finding a weather report from anyone in Bar, one on the vhf mentioned Southerlies 6 to 10 knots, not ideal, but we can handle that. Didn’t hear the bit about a front. After the first tack back out from Albania, the sea was becoming quite menacing, such a short and tall chop, the boat slam dunking and climbing back up, so we had to lay off a bit more, the wind rose and the dark arrived. This was going to be a very long night, winds coming up to 30 knots combined with the sea is a lonely and anxious feeling out there between Albania and Italy, nobody speaks English and I would expect Coastguard would not be up to our NZ standard. The way they snarl at us in port sometimes I get the feeling they would be happy to see us go down with the ship. Somehow at night things seem more dire, if one of our small crew came unstuck I regret that would have been the end of that, we were vigilant about our harness and life jacket. At about 11pm I suggested to Joe that to get to the corner of Albania after another 20 miles in the direction to Brindisi, Italy, and then 30 miles back down, would all add up to 50 miles, and then another 50 miles on to Corfu. It was all getting a bit too much at this snail’s pace and unsure prediction of conditions ahead, and the meeting of the directors punched in a new destination, only 50 miles in the present direction. Daylight seemed to never arrive and still 20 miles from Brindisi we were bombarded by fishing boats and cruise liners, one little boat we sailed right by an it didn’t have lights or anything. We were really pleased at how Wrighteau managed the difficult conditions, the waves come from any direction, sometimes from two at the same time, we get lifted up like a little cork, roll over, and ever so thankful for that bug hunk of lead and bulb and deep draft, we gently roll back. She was a little champion. It was a cruel fate, still with nearly 20 miles to go the wind rolled around to be on our nose yet again from the west. I was terrified, because the forecast from Italy I got in the night forecasted turning to West Force 4, up to 27 knots. I thought it might come a bit later, but it didn’t raise in strength so no need for alarm. It was a relief to get into Brindisi, the walking dead, and then the ultimate end to a workout like that was the country check in thing. Greece has a bit of a reputation with this, so I guess Italy was preparing us for it. We wandered round in circles bumped from one sleazy office to another, none of which would be signposted of course, and finally found the, well what was it exactly, something like a harbourmaster. They all literally just looked at us, talked around us, laughed a few times, and we stood like little school kids waiting and waiting. Finally someone got into some kind of action, nobody speaking much English, or anything at all actually, well after half an hour we were through with them, the next challenge was the Polizia, this took for ever, after knocking on the 8th door we found a gruff policeman who didn’t seem at all keen on our coming into their country, we were just one big fat nuisance. Oh well an hour and a half of all that carry on we could set about finding a marina berth, and catch up on a bit of kip. What a huge relief. Kotor was a lovely walled city, but our final impressions of Montenegro were not all that great really. The people are quite unfriendly, and it is all a bit dirty and backward with not so much to offer in our opinion. They have a long way to go before they can say they welcome visitors. One Scotsman we met in Kotor had a theory, it goes back to Tito days, Croatia was his favourite place, and why wouldn’t it be, but he put most of the money into Croatia, and the other states missed out, it was a plausible theory to me. Photos have been updated on www.webshots.com/user/Wrighteau | ||
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| Well how do you reckon, last night we sat on Wrighteau, the computer is back in favour as I managed to get into News talk ZB and Paul Homes and some good old New Zealand talk back radio, as I Skyped home and corresponded with a sister. Technology when it works is great. This morning we woke up to Larry. All this as we sit in this tiny little place called Kotor in Montenegro. It has been a beautiful little visit here, the town is lovely and when I discovered I could communicate a bit still it all helped. Yesterday we had a bit of a catch up, and discovered a lovely place to eat. Then I discovered some Vranac red wine at the supermarket for 2.50 Euro for 1 litre, so this caused some excitement. We just had a quiet night in, but it turned out to be late when I discovered that the restaurant where we ate gave me a pin number to use the internet on the boat. Today we woke with great gusto and walked up to the Castle ruins, or Fortress I guess, not sure how far up, but I would guess about 400 metres up, we started about 8.30 so were two of a small few on the track at that time, a real bonus. The views were absolutely outstanding, and far too many photo opportunities, the poor little shutter button is nearly dead from over exertion. We have found it very hard to find information of any outings to do, and when we finally found a sort of tour operator we found that two of the tours they offered don’t actually leave from here afterall. So we decided to take ourselves on an outing, just catch a bus and head inland to see what it’s like. So after our walk up the hill we walked around to the bus station, where the excursion nearly fell at the first hurdle, what sort of an excursion doesn’t leave the first bus station, the drivers, staff and everyone were quite unhelpful, rude and not made any easier with such a language barrier. They have a long way to go in this country to learn how to encourage tourists we feel. Eventually just before we canned it all, the bus rolled in and away we went. The first part of the trip showed quite a bit of brick and building material construction yards. The country side is extremely scruffy and unattractive. After going through Budvah we climbed high into the mountains, the next hour we climbed in and around these rocky and shrub covered hills, it was certainly quite dramatic. We went to Podgovica, about the ugliest city we have driven through, we had hoped to find the Juli 13 winery, but we were quite convinced this was out of the question, so we sat and had a bus station lunch of lamb chops and goulash, and boarded the bus back to Kotor. This was a fairly hair raising event in itself, and reassured us that we made the right decision in not renting a car here. The bus driver was a serious rally driver, and I don't have a direct line to him upstairs there, but I did chance my luck and pleaded that the brakes would stay in tact as we whirled down the mountain side and around tight corners. He certainly did make good time, and it was a relief to get back to Wrighteau. So it has been quite a day. We think it is time to move on, onto Bar further south, where we will have a couple of days and then check out of the country from there. | ||
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