The Sights from Soupia

Sunday’s sights, cronologically: Tiny hilltop church, super yachts, banana-hammock sunbather, helicopter rising from the nearby villa, buck naked guy, sheep. None of that is euphemism. Thankfully there are no pictures.

Soupia is a tiny frog-shaped islet across the strait from Hydra. Near Soupia the shoreline and the forecast looked somewhat promising for my first kite session in Greece.

We anchored between the frog and the mainland on Saturday afternoon after a nice sail around the corner from Poros. The anchorage is quite exposed,  but I need exposed beach to rig and fly the kite,  and the forecast called for very little wind at night, which has worked out nicely for us. The minor hiccup with this location is the swell that gently sidles in from 100 miles SE, which made this happen all Sunday night:

While Kath snoozed on Sunday morning, I swam ashore and walked up the small hill to Moni Agiou Athanasiou. A moni is a secluded tiny chapel, and any family in Greece who has some status built such a thing to honour their favorite saint at some point in the past 1000 years. The chapel of Saint Athanasiou is in pristine condition, beautifully appointed inside, seemingly having just hosted a little service, judging by the palm fronds adorning the arched doorway.

Back to Coral to recruit Kathy to go hang at the “beach” and wait for wind. We gave a wide berth to a gentleman who arrived on his scooter and sunbathed for an hour down the beach, attired scantily. Kathy sat in the shade of a big pine tree and read while I paced.

Guess I should’a spent more money on more kites. My beautiful 10 metre Airush just wasn’t enough.

Back to Coral for mojitos, snacks, backgammon, and a steady parade of gleaming super yachts charging out of Hydra back to Athens and the boardrooms beyond.

The yacht in that pic is fairly typical, what my friend David would call standard junior-oligarch. JO. Meh.

Then the chopper lifted off from the villa that’s about 1/2 km away and flew over us for the run back to Athens. Now that is BO. Bonafide Oligarchy.

Then Coral spun on her anchor rode a few degrees and BANG! 300 ft away is a dude standing in wonder woman pose, nekked, seemingly staring at us. The safety manual says to stay calm in this situation and focus on the backgammon game, so that’s what we did. But when, 8 minutes later, he got dressed, got on his scooter, and drove over to the small herd of sheep I hadn’t noticed,  well, this was too much. As I computed the response-time of the local SPCA swat team, it dawned on me that he might actually be the shepherd, having just taken a towel-less airdry swim,  and indeed he proceeded to herd the sheep up the coastal path with a constant beeping of his scooter horn. Also not a euphemism. I still called the SPCA and left a message, just to be safe.