Month: May 2017

With Ian and Loren back in California, our young friend Connor arrived in Poros for a few days on his whirlwind summer European tour. A little detour through Greece on his way to meet friends in Italy.

Wanting to hit the donkey show in Hydra, we decided to leave Coral snugged up on the dock in Poros and get the 20 minute ferry to Hydra for the afternoon. A walk through town,  then lunch and a swim at the fantastic Spilia Beach Bar.

Kathy did a little birthday shopping (a couple weeks early).

Very cute, and came with specific instructions not to get them wet. Hmm.

Thanks to Connor’s urging, while Kathy shopped for bacon, we took a donkey ride that took us along narrow shopping streets and through restaurant patios. Ai, good donkey!

 

A quick morning motor to Spetses and our second new crew member arrived bearing a new Canadian flag to replace our old ragged one and a special surprise–basically our Canadian pirate flag! Thanks Loren!

Ian went for a run while Loren tried to take a nap and then we all dinghied to shore for the best gyros I’ve ever had, apologies to Tenekedakia in Aegina.  Ian was determined to find a lawnchair he could use on the bow of the boat (spoiler alert,  he never found one), but we wandered around and humoured him.  We did find his other requirement,  beer.  Whew!

The big hero of Spetses is this lady:  she was a ship captain and apparently seduced men at gunpoint… um, don’t we have another word for that behaviour now?  Let’s hope the next edition of Lonely Planet makes a few revisions.

Back on the boat, Ian and Loren were free to focus on fishing.  After a few failed attempts, the boys turned to the Greek bologna Mike described earlier, ’cause I sure as hell wasn’t eating it.  This is the result:

Another spoiler alert: lots more fishing, no more fish.

The wind and swell weren’t really in our favour, so we motored back to our previous anchor spot in the bay south of Porto Heli.  After an evening of Ian’s 70’s playlist we realized that the wedding at the beach bar on shore was basically playing the same stuff at a louder volume.  It was kind of magical, in an old-person kind of way.

The next morning we had some decent wind and hoisted the sails for our journey to Ermioni.  Luckily, Loren was a keen student, leaving me to use up Mike’s data plan and Ian to drink the beer he found in Spetses.

We had enough wind to make this newbie slightly uncomfortable, but the boys were unfazed.  Safely anchored in the bay in Ermioni, we went ashore for lunch and provisions (beer, wine and bacon, bien sur). With a light wind forecast, we settled in for a quiet night.

Well after dark, a Russian catamaran came and parked disturbingly close to us.  Well, the forecast was light wind, surely all would be well?  Mike woke up in the night to gusting wind and a cat one boatlength away.  God love him, he sat vigil on Coral, and when it all became too much he blew the airhorn to get the cat’s attention.  To be fair, the other captain was up and watching, but Captain Mike was past his comfort level and demanded the cat leave.  They did!  I think President Trump could learn a thing or two from my man!

The next day the plan was to head to Hydra.  We tried to anchor in the bay just west of town, but it was deep water and getting crowded, so we headed across the straight to Soupia, our old spot by the frog rock. Ian and Loren went for a run and a snorkel while I used up more of Mike’s data. Do you see a pattern?

The next day we headed for Poros.  Again, not a lot of wind.

We had a lovely visit with the boys, but we said goodbye in Poros, none the worse for wear, livers notwithstanding.  Thanks for coming boys!

 

Beautiful morning here, Ian casting a line off the bow, coffee close at hand.

A couple of milestones from this week that Kath neglected to mention: 1) first kite session on the saltwater pond near Porto Heli. Awesome. 2) Fell off the back of the boat while putting the passerelle to the dock. Hilarious, if it wasn’t for 3) Had my phone in my back pocket during event 2. Was there a betting pool for how long my phone would survive? Who had 44 days? Thankfully, I’m in Europe where mobile service is cheap, so I’m back in business for €100, though the battery sucks on this ZTE cheapo. Doubt it will stay dry all summer anyway.

 

Laundry done and water topped up, we hunkered down in an overcast, drizzly Porto Heli to wait for Ian’s arrival.

He was due to arrive smack dab in the middle of a four day ferry strike, but luckily we were on the mainland, so he braved a three bus odyssey to join us.  Ian arrived Thursday morning at 8am, and we waited at least four hours before we started drinking the cold away.

Today we headed back to try and tie up to the concrete block Mike was so pleased to discover last post, but it proved less than ideal plus the water was quite choppy, so we abandoned the spot in favour of the little bay next door which is calmer thanks to a small island protecting it.

Clearly this called for more drinks, so we hopped in the dinghy and hit the beach bar for lunch.

Back to the boat for naps and fishing, we’re right on schedule.

Tomorrow we pick up Ian’s friend Loren in Spetses–perhaps we’ll celebrate with drinks!

With lots of nice crinkly coastline near Porto Kheli  (Porto Cheli? Porto Xeli?), Kathy and I have continued the tranquil vibe. Time to do a little repair job on the trusty inflatable dinghy, polish some lexan windows, drop off laundry in town, and splash around in the beautiful clear water that is quickly warming up, and soon may welcome Kathy for her first dip.

Since it’s always nice to know a friendly chunk of concrete in a convenient spot, I was delighted to discover this yesterday:

Coral was floating directly over this unmarked mooring in the early morning calm. Attagirl! Put that one in the GPS database for next time!

With lots of elbow room in PX Bay, we have quite a diversity of neighbours.

Tomorrow we’ll back onto the dock here to take on more fresh water, more food and booze, and oh yeah, our pal Ian MacDonald (that’s California-Newf IanMac, not Greely-Newf-ish IanMac). This should bode well for my chances of landing a fish? The dude is a master…

After the wonderful donkey show that was Hydra,

we putted 5 km down the coast to empty Ormos Molos, where we anchored and enjoyed being the only boat in the cove. Ashore was nothing but a swanky private residence with pool and tennis court hiding inside the courtyard, so I was happy to sip a beer, go for a swim, and lose at backgammon. The tube of ground beef that I purchased back in Hydra turned out to be Greek Bologna. Unfortunate. Fried and put in a pasta sauce, it was exactly what you’d expect from extruded meat sludge. Lesson learned.

Friday began with an attempt at taking this thing up a notch: by letting Kathy sleep-in while I solo’d Coral off to our next anchorage, searching for a kitesurfable beach.

Step 1) Raise the anchor.

Step 2) Run and turn off the windlass breaker switch because the beastie started up and wouldn’t stop.

Now, I had spent 2 hours the previous evening cleaning the windlass control solenoid contacts. Hmm. A clue? Ignoring the clue,  I blamed the foot switch next to the windlass. Must be stuck on, so I snipped it right out of the circuit, but the windlass didn’t care and hauled away when I flipped the breaker back on. That means the solenoid was stuck on, and since solenoids are pretty simple and robust, I hit it with a hammer. Well, just a couple of taps. That did the trick, and I must say, solving problems with a hammer is very satisfying! Couple of new crimps to reconnect that poor blameless switch, and away at the crack of noon. Yes, Kathy was up. As of this writing, the windlass solenoid seems quite cooperative, but the enforcer is not far away.

Anyway, all that and kiting plans fell flat as the forecasted wind never filled in and we spent a rolly night anchored near a small beach and more luxury homes on the Pelopennesian mainland at Kounoupi Kove.

I’ve tried my hand at fishing last night and this morning with zero success. Need to spend more money on gear, perhaps.

Mike has been doing a fine job of the Hydra blogging, but I don’t feel there are enough donkeys or cats represented. After all, they are both ubiquitous enough for there to be an entire store called DonkeyCat.

These cats were pretty excited to see a fishing boat come in.

After all, they work up quite an appetite showing real estate,

delivering water to boats,

and lugging wagons around.

In other news, the biggest boat we’ve seen yet pulled up today, Kyknos.  I can’t figure out who owns her, but suffice it to say they were accompanied by a military team on a motorboat with a sniper seat.

Once the giant boat was parked–just blew in for lunch, doncha know–we headed out for our own lunch.  The pizza place we tried was unimpressive after my wonderful pizza experiences in Aegina, but that memory was soon erased when we headed to Spilia Beach Bar for a drink.  It is a pretty magical spot!

I had originally planned to give you my perspective on the shitshow yesterday in the harbour, but I think I’m still too traumatized to relive it.  All’s well that ends well, and by that I mean that once it was all over and I had a little cry, Mike sat vigil on Coral and I went out for dinner by myself, drained a couple glasses of wine and downloaded last week’s Survivor and Silicon Valley episodes.  Aaaaaah… the keys to Kathy’s happiness.

 

This is the follow-up to Tuesday, part one. If you’d like to read about the day cronologically, click here.

Tuesday afternoon, and Coral was waiting contentedly for us as we returned from our lunch-hike. A light breeze from the NW was creating a steady little bounce in the harbour, and by 5 pm it was such that stacking boats was looking a bit dodgy, so we were happy that Monday’s group had wandered away and our bow was clear. As I searched the fridge for a beer, I heard yelling, and a sailboat backed in to stack on our bow. The Hydra Bumperboat Circus began. I politely took their sternline, as did my neighbour, and the friendly Polish skipper and crew proceeded to bounce, jockey, twist and fend their boat off of Coral’s menacing bowroller. No serious contact, but as the surge intensified in the harbour, it was obvious (to me) that our boat geometries were completely incompatible for these conditions. Coral’s sturdy construction threatenened to pull the Beneteau limb from cleat, and I wasn’t willing to deal with dings and scuffs. The Poles thankfully seemed resigned to try elsewhere, but just then another boat took center stage as their anchor dragged and they spent 30 minutes blown around and flailing through the harbour like a rabid baboon. Oh, I know: rarely are baboons used in the circus. But take my word for it.

The baboon boat scraped along the Poles at one point while everyone in the harbour was enthralled, horrified and thankful it wasn’t them. Eventually the harbour diver tranquilized that situation,  and then it was the Poles turn to reel in their anchor and bugger off. But of course, they tangled with my anchor,  which just means they simply needed to snake a rope under my chain, extricate their anchor, and drop my anchor back where they found… HEY! HEY! NO! NOT THERE! WHAAAAT!!

I exchanged bewildered eyerolls with everyone else who had been yelling as my friendly Polish boat sped out of the harbour, having inexplicably dropped my hook 3 aisles over. With my engine now assuredly keeping my butt off the dock, I debated: Should I risk leaving the dock to reposition my anchor? Just snug it and deal with the mess tomorrow? Was I to be the next baboon?

I chose just to snug away, but incredibly, my anchor grabbed absolutely nothing in that nest of chains, and wound right back to Coral’s bow. I wasn’t snagged, but now what? Back in again? Leave the harbour for the night? My neighbour suggested paying the diver or taxi boat guy to ferry my anchor back to a good spot, and that was a very well spent €50 for 10 minutes of important help. The anchor got enough grab to hold me off the dock while dusk fell and the harbour lept and creaked for another pensive 4 hours. Coral seemed to shrug the whole thing off.

When the cruising guide say “dangerous surge in a NW wind”, one needs to pay attention, and maybe plan an early escape.

 

Hydra Island is thought to be named for its natural springwater (Hydrea in ancient times). That said, the Lernaean Hydra of Greek mythology (a many headed serpent that lived about 60 km away on the Pelopennesian mainland) seems to have some sway in the character of this place. This post is about the smiling, happy, cuddly serpent head. This post.

Tuesday began with my hunt for the bad crimp that was hiding somewhere in the circuit that connects the engine stop button to the actual stoppenator, aka the fuel shutoff solenoid. Not a serious issue, but an inconvenience to have to run below to maually turn the shutoff lever each time. Having proven that the button still buttoned and the solenoid still ‘noided, I proceeded to replace the various wire connections that seem the cause of most marine electrical issues. Three nice recrimps in the sidelocker, but still no luck.

Oh, wait, maybe it’s the little wire next to the engine that’s completely broken in two. The wire that’s really easy to reach. Presto. Stopifaction.

To celebrate avoiding an embarassing service call (oh, THAT broken wire?), we strolled 2 km down the coast to the Four Seasons Beach Resort for lunch.

It was all so chill we walked back rather than take the water taxi.

Gee, is it only 3 pm?

P.S. You’ve been patient with my feeble suspense. Scroll down for a spoiler if needed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everything is fine.

It was a mere 45 minute jaunt from the rolling solitude of Soupia to the cluster-dock of tiny Hydra harbour. Wow. That’s Coral tucked in the back row, 6 from the left.

This place must be just cuckoo in high season. We’re surrounded by a pleasant armada of Ukranians, chartering these boats for a week and travelling as a pack.

So the dock was relatively calm at noon when we showed up,  which is good because my last 10 days at anchor made my parking skills pretty rusty. Three tries to get Coral lined up, snaking in reverse all over the place, but once I finally gave Kath the okay to put the anchor down it went fairly well. Both embarassed and jacked with adrenaline, I snugged lines and shrugged to Kathy and our tolerant neighbours. Cam an! Paaakin’ this thing is wicked haaad!

The rest of the day has been occupied with food, booze, and this little bumper addition to the end of our passerelle.

Yup, “passerelle”. Yachting really is that adorable. And speaking of adorable, we got cleaned up to hit the town. Kathy looked so classy, the waiter brought white wine rather than the requested red.

Note Coral lurking in the background. Does this outboard make my transom look big?