24th to 27th May 2006 – Iskanderun then on to Latakia (Syria)

Posted at 2:37 PM, Thursday, June 1, 2006

Wow.  Syria has been interesting - but lets round off Turkey first. 

Iskanderun our last port back up the coast in Turkey proved to be a good stop.  It’s a frontier type town where overseas tourists are rare enough to draw the locals attention.  The climate was very hot and humid, apparently usual as it’s set into the top right hand corner of the Med.  They, like so many ports this far east, do not yet have a dedicated pleasure boat marina, so we ended up parked using bow or stern anchors, two deep in the fishing boat harbour – all backed onto a wide open quay.

No amenities on the quay but lots of local Turkish innovation sprung in action after we arrived.  The municipality quickly opened one lamp post box on the harbour wall and attached a power cable long enough for those who required electricity.  Luckily most were sensible enough to rely only on batteries for the stopover.  If all 80 yachts had chosen to rely on that one line, it would quickly have tripped out – and maybe blacked out all the street lamps down that end of town!

The municipality also plumbed in some crude showers as we watched.  Four plastic shower heads plumbed by wobbly garden piping into the metal fresh water pipe there to serve the fishing fleet. It meant the shower water was nice and cooling for about 5 seconds max (as that bit of pipe was in the shade), and then absolutely scalding hot as the water not in the shade came out.  But better than no shower at all – as we were not allowed to use on board showers or discharge any grey water into the harbour.

We did get in for a swim off the outside wall of the quay to get some relief from the heat.  Not exactly crystal clear waters, but it was very hard not to be tempted when it hit 35 degrees C.  The quayside rocks looked forbidding – but were all covered with soft sponge.  It was like climbing back out onto a deep pile carpet.  Other local enterprises came to us – like the barber who arrived on his scooter – completely loaded with large brolly, equipment, towels, and chair!

The day after arrival we had a bus trip organised to Antioch down the coast near Syria – again more stunning ruins as we climbed hills in the searing heat to see some incredible pre Christ civil engineering works.  One series of chasms / tunnels had been hand carved 2,200 years ago to divert river water - and it was still functioning today. Nice and cool underground.  Many did not want to leave and face the baking hot walk back down to the buses!

Yet another couple of parties organised for us.  First one in a nice open restaurant facility the day after we arrived – the second one a day later on the quay behind the boats.

The leg onward, down from Iskanderun to Latikia in Syria on Friday, was not without drama.  We all had to arrive off Latikia at specific times on the Saturday morning, and the Syrian navy is more than a tad sensitive about visiting overseas yachts roaming around.  So with light winds forecast from the south, most calculated how long it would take them at their preferred speed to cover the 80 miles and our rv point off Latakia, and left Iskanderun accordingly.

We chose to leave earlier than was needed to arrive on time – round about midday – hoping to explore the last anchorage in Turkey where we could park up late afternoon and maybe cool off with a swim.  Thank goodness we did leave when we did as the winds changed in the afternoon.

The wind direction was as predicted from the south, but it got to be a bit stronger than forecasted.  What was worse and not forecasted at all was a heading current and steepish sea state, which saw all yachts having to use an increasing amount of engine power to bash their way southward.

Those same seas gave us a surprise that really did cool Sue off – just before we got to the anchorage.

Sue had gone forward below to sit on the bed and read her book – cooling herself in draft of the breeze forced down the fore hatch open just above her head.  I on deck a few minutes later I saw a set of bigger waves approaching so increased revs to bash trough them.  A few seconds later they reached us and we smashed through the first few, but the rest made our bow pitch up and down.  On the very last ‘down’, I saw this low wall of green water slide over the foredeck and begin to roll aft!  Don’t ask me why – but the water seemed to have a will and direction all of it’s own.  Time stood still as the water kind of heaved itself into a peak, and then jump straight at Sues open fore hatch.  The screams that resulted as Sue / her book / the bed / the whole fore cabin took gallons of cooling seawater remain with me.

Fortunately, we were close to our planned anchorage so turned in there half an hour later.  The name is Ulcinar and the headland, occupied by a garrison of Turkish military, provided good protection from the southerly wind and waves.  We parked up in 3 metres of flat water over a sandy bottom, spent a couple of hours washing all the bed linen, hauling the mattresses on deck to dry out, and mopping and pumping out fore cabin, before taking time out to relax.

We swam, showered off the transom, had a leisurely evening meal, and even found time for an hours nap before hauling up the anchor at 2030 (in the dark) and heading off under the watchful eyes of the Turkish military binoculars.

We had been advised in advance of the sensitivities of restricted water areas like these so went six miles offshore before heading due south.  Turkey and Syria both still maintain military resources facing one another over their borders as they have some differences over who owns what lands……..indeed, the Syrian navy will only allow us to sail in their waters if we all remain at least 6 miles off their coast – and we can only approach Latikia itself down a fixed half mile wide approved corridor.  It meant we needed to ensure we stayed on a southerly track and all rendezvous at one point 8 miles out directly level with Latakia.

But as we left the anchorage, we saw the wind had gained greater strength – so our night journey ended up with us bashing along at 7.5 knots to counter the adverse current and wind and waves.  With even our engine over-revving as the stern lifted out of each steep wave, we ploughed onward to guarantee we would arrive exactly on time. 

The crashing / bashing / rocking / rolling did not let up all night.  Our bow wave looked more like a power boats in the reflected glare of our navigation lights as we pushed aside tons of water.  Lots of green water over the deck with spray rattling like pebbles on the plastic of the spray hood.  Not a comfortable sea - nor easy to get any sleep with this motion.

All of the smaller boats we passed looked under pressure and were clearly making heavy work of it.  All were bobbing about, up and over the slop, and intercepts of radio chatter showed some could only maintain 4 knots boatspeed – often dropping to less.  We learnt later several yachts – big and small - suffered engine issues as the wave action stirred up crud in their tanks that the filters could not cope with.  Even we got worried at one stage, as on one angle of heel our digital fuel gauge showed we had less than 18 litres of fuel left – and we still had 50 miles to go!  We cut our engine and began to sail albeit making only 4 knots ourselves as VMG as we tacked along – but when below 30 minutes later and realising on the other tack we showed 90 litres, we realised the instrument (meant to be accurate on either tack) in fact misread.  So engine back on, flattened out, and the gauge showing a truer 80 70 litres – we continued south under engine.  At least other yachts four had no choice but to resort to sailing due to engine / fuel malfunctions, and some only finally arrived off Latikia much later in the day.

We got there on time, exchanging watches through the night and adjusting speed as required to ensure we arrived at the rendezvous spot for Group 5 yachts some 8 miles offshore from Latikia - at exactly 0630. 

As dawn came up so we could see the dark shapes of three Syrian gunboats moving up and down the fleet.  I’m not sure if they were really making sure we were all in the allotted corridor – or what they might do if we weren’t - but it did all feel a bit intimidating.

Docking in Latikia took some time as space is restricted and we all had to use anchors across a strong southerly breeze.  It is a signed as a proper ‘yacht club’ but only occupied before we arrived by one large power yacht – presume a govt minister or a rich merchant. 

First to the transom as our ropes were being taken by those who got in before, was the Syrian Port Police requesting passports, crew lists, copies of ships papers.  Not a smiley faced group.  Uniforms and shoulder boards everywhere.  When we got asked a third time inside 5 minutes the chappie was clearly getting impatient with Swagman. We glanced at one another as we finished off our lines.  Our initial impression of Syria were definitely less than positive.

But today – some four days later – I’m pleased to advise our impressions have been modified. The grim face of Syria – both the grey urban tumbledown landscape, the hard sandy desert, and the stern faced people – is actually only a thin façade.  Behind all are a land and a race we’ve found really cultured and certainly interesting.  Even if the politics locally leave a lot to be desired.

Despite being part of the cradle in which our civilisation once started (these guys did develop our alphabet for one), it is today a very poor country. They say the average annual income is less than US$3,000, and maybe because a lot of people holding down two jobs to make ends meet unemployment over 20% - and there is no social security system.  Most of the urban housing is either bland concrete or sandstone or mud brick – we are told they cannot afford to use paint.  Private cars are a luxury – even if you can afford to run one – they are taxed at 300% on cost, so one sees 100 cabs to every one car.

There’s clearly few western tourists attracted to Syria, and even fewer would pick Latikia anyway, so locals who flocked to ‘see the boats’ along the quay on Friday evening seemed truly curious about the fleet.

Most turned out in their finery as they promenaded as family units up the quay.  They uniformly appeared to be reserved, almost shy at first, as they curiously peeked into our cockpits where we were either sitting relaxing or just chilling on the quay.  Not sure what they made of us – but I was sure words like ‘rich bloody bastards’ could easily have been muttered in Arabic.

But as we quickly learnt, it only took a shared ‘hello’ from either side to break the ice.  Suddenly coy smiles could be seen, photos of boats and the sailors standing with their families or children were being requested, and conversations fired up.  Once started, they tended to last all night, as more locals came up to be introduced.  Most family groups appeared to have at least one person who could speak tolerable English or French and translate back to the rest.  The conversations tended to end with the same questions. 

What we were all doing here? What we thought of their country? Why did the USA and UK – which they seemed to admire on a private or personal level - invade Iraq and indeed, support Israel against them?

We did not have all the answers.  Still don’t.

Sunday and Monday were devoted to bus tours inland to Crusader Castles (stunningly preserved and huge), the ancient Roman metropolis of Palmyra in the Syrian desert (even more impressive), and the bustling Syrian capital of Damascus where we stayed overnight.  Plus of course the countryside itself.  Everywhere we went we were stared at, exchanged hellos or waves with young and old alike, and appeared to be uniformly welcomed by the locals as valued guests in their country. 

The coastal plains of Syria are green, lush and cultivated.  But 20 miles inland and over a band of hills are some really empty deserts stretching away to Palmyra and then Iraq on Syrias eastern border.  It seemed strange to be sitting sipping tea in a hot Bedouin tented café by the desert roadside, with road signs indicating the Bagdads only 450 km away!

We drove for two hours over the desert to reach Palmyra.  Apart from a few Bedouin encampments and a lot of military bases set way back from the road – there was little else to catch the eye.  Even our buses aircon struggled in the heat – so how does the driver of this Bedouin mini truck cope?

The only Palmyra I’ve been to before was a leafy Freo suburb.  The Syrian version is a vast Roman metropolis set at the cross roads of what was the caravan trade routes.  It was very easy to image this city as it was - walking around was like being on a part completed film lot for Cleopatra.

We travelled north to Alippo on Tuesday.  Alippo is the second largest Syrian city, dominated by a vast Ottoman Citadel - it's size and splendor made our Tower of London, Dover or Warwick Castle all look like some garden sheds.

This city also boast to have the largest covered souke in the world.  I'm not qualified to judge - but I do know the heat made me recall we wished to buy a 240v big fan for the boat - to use in a marina - and we could not find one there.  So it might have been thre biggest - but for me not the best.........

As we left town on the bus we passed through a pretty run down shopping area and suddenly saw we were in the street of fans!  They seem to bunch shops together like that and as a buyer - of course it makes sense.  You know - a street of electric motors.  A street of plastic pipes.  A street of plumbing supplies etc.  Anyway - got the bus to stop and got exactly what I wanted - nice modern design etc - for 600 Syrian Pounds.  At 10 euros - a bargain.

Rounded off the visit with a party last night.  Food here is as good as the wine is bad!  Fortunately they do still import Lebanese wines which are good.

Overall my impressions of Syria have been positive.  A nice race of people – the streets are poor and dirty - but as safe as houses. It’s a shame they still have a secret police, and a real shame they spend 80% of GDP still on armed forces. 

With ongoing territorial issues with Turkey to the north and Israel to the south, along with hot political issues with Lebanon to the west and the America invaded Iraq to the east, I’m sadly not sure that spending on military resources will reduce any time soon.  But the locals do say it is slowly changing.  We’ve found the people to be ‘modern’ in the way they think and looking forward to a future.  There is no religious extremism – even the prettier girls in their burkahs smiled and practiced their hello’s.  We’ve found it to be a proud but shy nation which is seeing greater internal freedoms as each year passes - but still has an active secret police.  So there’s hope for the future yet.  Maybe.

Today is Wednesday - early.  We take on more fuel later before departing late morning to cover the 105 miles south to Jounieh in the Lebanon.  I can’t update the blog on line in Syria as my GPRS service deal is not accessible there. So here’s hoping we can upload this when we cross the coast at the border with Lebanon further south.

On. On. 

JOHN

PS  No - my service with GPRS still not available in Lebanon either.  So hit a wifi hotspot and paying 10$US for 5 hours.