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.
Every good Newfoundlander knows that you don’t put bologna in a pasta sauce. You cut it thick, fry it crisp and throw it between two slices of white, home made bread, with butter or mustard (and not your fancy mustard), depending on your preference.
Mmmm, we need a ‘Like’ button for these posts. My Mom would ask the butcher to cut it thick too, so we could have bologna “steak”.