12th April 2006 - Galaxidhi to Aegina

Posted at 6:06 AM, Thursday, April 13, 2006

I’m typing this in the early hours of Thursday, with the boat bobbing as we hang off a dilapidated floating pontoon in Aegina Harbour. 

I’m the only one up. And I’ve got a headache.

Yesterday was perhaps the best sail I’ve ever had on Swagman.  It all started when we awoke at Galaxidhi to putter out at 0530 in a flat calm.  Galaxidhi is nestled in the northern shore of the Gulf of Corinth and incredibly well protected tucked in as it is, at the head a narrow fishhook shaped bay.  We had no wind or water action, just calm since we arrived the night before. Here’s a shot of Marcus posing as we were tied up off the small town pier yesterday evening prior to choosing a restaurant for the evening meal.

But as we turned out yesterday morning and headed the two miles south towards the gulf propoer, it was obvious the wind was well 'up' on yesterday.  As we slid towards the gulf hoisting the sails, the wave trains crossing from west to east seemed quite large - and whitecapped.

No worries we thought - a fast downhill ride - something we and the boat all love.....right.

But we totally underestimated the wind strength.  Ignorance + arrogance is never good.

It was blowing from the west – and we had to head off east along to the end of the gulf (30 miles) to then enter the canal.

So with full sails set, we dialled the boat down onto her ocurse ans shot out into the maelstorm - accelerating fast in the foam streaked waters. It only took 15 minutes to clear the protective headlands and then get fully exposed to winds averaging 35 /40 knots – and gusting to 50!  That's storm force 10........

One reef in the mainsail proved totally inadequate, two reefs still saw us rounding up continually as gusts took us, so we swiftly moved to remove all saisl and get down to bare poles, and some engine to give us steerage way as we we surfed along on some pretty big seas, contnued onward before the wind.

Stunningly, we topped 17.7 knots in boat speed without any dramas -   what a ride! 

As the gulf narrowed at its base the seas built even higher, and we  kept assuring ourselves it might just ease later in the morning and before we got to the dead end of the gulf.  It didn’t.

The waves just kept building as the gulf both narrowed and shallowed.  We even donned lifejackets - almost unheard of on Swagman in sunny daylight hours.  I have to say it seemed surreal. 

There we were charging downwind into a narrowing cull de sac with ever building seas and really not sure if we could stop!  I mean – what if the canal was closed because of the weather?  We could not even raise them on the radio.....

As Corinth town came into view 6 miles ahead we got some assurance as we were overtaken by a medium sized cargo ship also aiming for the canal entry position.  So we continued on in his wake and the canal entry, with waves smashing over both it's small surrounding breakwaters, was soon in sight ahead.

Trying the canal authorities we finally got them on the radio, to learn the weather restrctions meant they were only allowing one vessel though at a time.  So could we please ‘wait’ for ten minutes? 

We all smiled at one another and shrugged as we really had no other options, did we?  So judging the moment we quickly spun Swagman in a small section of flat water and took up a heading holding her stationery againt the big seas rolling along the gulf.  In the wind we found 2,000 revs only just held us in position making zero forward motion.  It susprised me but we experienced no real bashing or crashing as Swagman lifed herself over the top of each wave – it was actually all quite civilised and comfortable.

So we've at least learn that about the boats desing.  Not only quick off the breeze, but she is so quiet down below when you disappear below to make coffee – you can easily forget the conditions outside. 

The sun streams in, making it lovely and warm, and you always feel shocked when you pop back out into the cockpit with spray rattling like gunfire against the hood.

Anyway – true to their word it did only take 15 minutes– and we watched the road bridge which spans the canal sink beneath the waves (hydraulically dropped) and simultaneously got the call that we could enter. 

The canal entry is protected by a couple of curved breakwaters forming almost a msall harbout before the road / bridge / hydraulics - and we shot like a pip between the two little lighthouses each end and swept into absolutely turquoise blue and dead flat water inside. 

I believe this colour is caused by the crumbling sand stone walls of the canal – but it is certainly all pretty speccy - just like the waters we'd grown to love in Western Australia.

Waiting motorists took pictures and waved as we came over the sunken bridge shedding lifejackets and wet weather gear in the immediately opporessive heat.  The relative peace seemed to fit the stunning view of the canal walls sliding by on either side.  You can see paint scrapings where larger ships, including some smaller cruise liners,  have bumped the towering limestone walls as they've passed before. 

Here’s a shot about half way through. 

The 3.2 mile canal was started way back in Neros day – but only finished in 1893 by the Greeks.  It is cut to 76 metres  at its highest point and the water is 7 metres deep.  Euro for euro surely the most expensive piece of water to sail across.  Our transit fees, paid at the other end once tied up alongside the office, was 211 euros!  But it does save one 150 miles by not going south of Peloponese peninsular - and I guess the experience and the saved day makes it all worthwhile.

As I sorted the transit charges after a hiary docking alongside at the other end (still F8/9 winds), Sue cooked up a needed pasta lunch and the guys unplugged some vino.

We found ourselves the subject of more tourist cameras as at 1500 we crabbed away from the dockside, hoisted saisl whislt hovering in the canal with winds on our nose, then spun round in our own length to shoot out into the Agean Sea.

We had hoisted a double reefed main which worked well, amd shot off to complete our days run over to the Island of Aegina. 

Again – once clear of the shoreline we found ourselves in 30 / 35 knot winds with 50 knot gusts – but with flatter seas due to the protection of the land mass behind us - the sailing was fast, flat and brilliant.

No seas so no surfing, but Swagman averaged 10 knots whilst we all took turns to outdo one another for boats speed records and enjoyed the sun.

The course to Aegina was directly downwind, but to prevent inadvertent gybes (where the boom crashes across the boat when you don’t want it to) we chose to sail safer angles with the breeze on each stern quarter.  It meant we needed to sail a zig-zag course and instead of even trying a controlled gybe in these stronger winds, we found it easier and safer to throw Swagman into a 360 tack each time.  She handled that very nicely with her fin keeled racing shape.

By 1730 we were roaring towards the entry to Aegina Harbour and apart from having to hold back as one of the stick like Hydrofoils roared up hooting to sink down off its legs and overtake us just at the harbour mouth, dropped saisl to motor into the protected harbour waters - with the town sitting prettily in front of us.

Aegina does have a relatively new marina just outside the old harbour walls – but it looked both cramped and very crowded with small local yachts.  We elected to find a spot in the open main harbour - more exposed to the winds whilsting over the harbour walls - but also closer to town.  The normal practice in the main harbour (we've been here before on a charter yacht) is to drop a bow anchor and then reverse onto the town quay wall directly opposite all the restaurants etc.  On this day the wind still howling over the harbour wall would have made that tricky, so we headed for an old wooden jetty that was empty. 

This old floating pontoon with free space was tucked inside the outer harbour wall – and so it was easy for us to to slip in and tie up there.  Only once we got secured, did we find a metal sign laying downward on the pontoon which states ‘Absolutely No Mooring Here’!! 

We replaced it as we found it - face down. 

And no one has asked us to move just yet.

The 12 hour sail from Galaxhidri left us all knackered, so last night saw us cook up a storm on board, share a few beers, 4 bottles of our best Spanish red, plus The Glenlivit as a nightcap.  By 0100 we were stumbling to bed.  The snatching of the boat in the gusts was totally forgotten as we all slid into dreamtime.  Great sailing, everyone did good.

To awake today with the headaches.

The wind is still gusting 30 / 35 knots – so I think we will declare today 'a layday'.  I’ve a few small jobs to do on Swagman – Sue wants to shop – and the boys want to take a Hydrofoil and visit Athens which is 20 miles north of Aegina.  So tomorrow refreshed we'll hopefully move onward further out into the Aegean Sea – almost certainly aiming for Andros about half way across towards Turkey.

Cheers

JOHN