Refugees...

Syria is a hell hole. Dictatorship and religion the cause... World War III the solution but who wants that? So if you are a young man in Syria say, 16 -25 you take sides, you take up arms and you fight or, if your parents have money, they get you out.

The route is over the Turkish border. Get yourself to a take off point some 1,300kms away following the 'Blue Route' Once there, find an agent who will supply a 25 man black dingy with motor, brand new high quality life jackets and instructions as to what to do when you arrive on Greek soil.

We suspect the 'agent' is actually the Turkish authorities moving this ever growing problem along. After all these refugees would rather get to the EU where the choices are larger than Turkey alone.

We had come across some refugees before in Kos where we began our voyage this year and there have been some on Leros and Samos. They seemed in good shape, most carrying the latest in communication technology, happy taking selfies and calling 'home' we assume?


But it is the shear number that stunned us on our drive between Molinos and Panayia. a 23 minute drive which took us a couple of hours as we came across hundreds of abandoned high quality Yamaha life jackets and at least 50 dinghies capable of carrying 25 passengers, all sliced open and useless having done their job.

The road follows the coast line occasionally dropping to sea level and as you see on Google Earth above, not a long way from the Turkish mainland.

Why slice the dinghies open? well it's about the law of the sea. If you are 'shipwrecked' on foreign soil, it is the responsibility of that country to take care of you. Once there, you are then able to claim Refugee Status. You are Interpol checked and if all clear, issued with a 6 month visa.
From here, we guess they go through some EU charter for refugees?

A few questions had to be asked... A 25 man dinghy with motor would run at around Aus$25,000. The life jackets are top of the line standard PFD's $250.00 a piece. How are these being supplied, by whom and where. The fact that the refugees themselves, whilst carrying hardly anything at all, do seem to have IPhones and IPads, decent clothing and footwear.

A possible conclusion would be that these are fairly affluent Syrians who were living in fear of their lives. They have no choice but to leave with what they are wearing and can fit into their pockets to start a new life in a culturally different, unwelcoming world. Rich or poor, this scenario would just suck.

As we drove back that evening, there they were in their hundreds. Spread the entire length of the highway, their next step was to walk the 60kms from where they'd abandoned their life jackets to the Port Authority in Mitilini. There they would join the burgeoning throngs of those who got there before them and await processing

Every evening we were moored after that day, the local Coast Guard would venture out at night and return laden with Syrians the next morning.



These people were on this dock when we arrived in Kulukkuyu, Turkey at around 3:00pm. It was 36 degrees in the shade but we could not tell how long they'd been there. We suspected since the early morning....


They were there for at least another hour after we arrived in the blinding heat. An ambulance did turn up, we imagined for a heat stroke victim. The women and crying babies were separated and provided better treatment.

Not sure why the men were made to suffer. Perhaps it is Turkey's way of persuading them that Greece might be a better option?

We sailed to Alibey, Turkey the following day arrived late afternoon and again, another large patrol boat load of Syrians

A feeling of complete helplessness descended, Get them some water, spray them with a hose, something... All cringed with the thought that they were actually fortunate it was Greece and not Australian shores they were arriving on.....

All play and no work makes blogging a dull job!

Too, too much fun to be had, so my apologies for the gap in communications....

Having bid the Duncan's farewell, it was time to spring clean the boat once again and by 8:35 on the 11th July, we were headed on what looked to be a rough ride for the 50nm sail to Mitilini on Lesvos, where we were to meet the Hayman's. They were joining us from Santorini, Greece... Oh, and the Galapagos Islands and various parts of South America. I just can't handle people who do things by halves!

Mitilini is a huge harbour and frighteningly officious. Frightening because we had Sally and the kids on board who we'd picked up in Turkey but had not officially checked into Greece. If they tried to check in it would mean the boat had left Greece without checking out....It gets way more complicated. You see, the Greek Islands and Turkey are so close along this stretch of coast that boats tend to bounce between them. Checking a boat and crew in and out of either country takes hours so we don't bother as long as we have the correct paperwork for the boat in both countries and are flying the correct flag on arrival all should be good...


As we entered the port of Mitilini a Port Policeman was standing on the dock beckoning us toward him and indicating I go to channel 12 on the radio.... "Where have you come from and how many people do you have on board?"... Well I couldn't say Turkey now could I? and so the complex web began.







The Hayman's arrived at 10;30pm so a late dinner at a great little restaurant right on the end of the mole was in order. We'd managed to hire a 9 seater van so we could explore the third largest of the Greek Islands and places we probably would not be sailing to.

We drove to Molinos on the northern tip of the island as recommended by the car hire guy, a really lovely, if a little touristy town which climbs it's way up to an impressive castle at the peak. Narrow, cobbled, ancient creeper covered alleyways with 'hole in the wall' shops selling all manner of poop interspersed with bars and restaurants with views over the cutest little harbour. Stunning!














The harbour was so attractive that we tagged it for possible future mooring. The next recommendation was to eat at a little town called Skala Skamineas for lunch. "The best seafood in Greece" was wheeled out once again, but this time, there was no argument. It was to die for.
,
The drive was to take 23 minutes on dirt according to Google Maps but it took way longer than that because of what we witnessed along the way. It is a story about refugees which will be covered in a separate blog as it deserves to be.

Back to lunch... Skala Skamineas is right out of a post card. The tightest little fishing harbour jammed with fishing boats and rimmed with restaurants all so delightful it made choosing a tough decision.

So good to be with such good mates in such a beautiful place eating the best octopus ever.

Entertainment was provided by the local trannie who paraded, modelesque around the harbour as if nobody else existed.

I put my hand up to drive back to Mitilini so not your usual long lunch for me, but such a comfy spot we could have stayed and certainly planned to return.

Back on the boat and conditions were shaping up for a perfect sail down the coast of Levros and around to Plomarion once more. Although we had already been there, it was worth a second trip for the Hayman's if only for a great sail, but we did want them to sample Maria's restaurant and beach. We had a couple of days before we we needed to head across to Turkey to collect Jenny and Warren Green who were joining us after their European jaunt. They were flying into Istanbul rather than a difficult route via Athens, hence our need to go to Turkey once more..

It was indeed a perfect sail to Plomarion which was as we had left it back on the 3rd of July and Maria's lived up to our hype. Happy to see us again, they poured on the service and the food and we ate and drank, sunbathed and swam and left them with a memento we hope will be there for a while.

The Summer Amy Cap....












Last time we were in Plomarion, Sal had noticed a pool hall tucked away in the back streets and having put the kids in front of a movie, we were persuaded to go and have a game.

Al suggested a great game when you have 5 people playing.

Each player has three balls and their task is to protect theirs and sink everybody else's. If a mistake is made, each player gets to retrieve one sunk ball.


We played three games.... Prizes for guessing who won all three... The bouquet came from the ladies toilet.. A fitting reward I guess?

Next stop Bademli, Turkey, an anchorage in beautiful surroundings touting hot springs that were used by the ancients and bubble away to this day.

After another perfect sail, the anchorage was indeed beautiful, the water so clear and refreshing but after dropping the dingy and motoring around to the hot springs we found them a crushing disappointment. The "natural rock pool about the size of a bath with sunset views across Kalem Adasi" turned out to be filthy, slimy and unusable.

It was a long way from where we anchored though, a glorious evening on the boat meant a long refreshing swim in the morning, something we cannot do in any harbour.

At 11:30 on the 15th we motored up and Med Moored in Alibey, Turkey where we were to rendezvous with the Greens who would be overlapping with the Hayman's by one day... Imagine the shenanigans with that mob!

Izmir to Cesmealti, an escape from a booming Meltimi

8 - 10 Knots and rising. Anxious faces taking refuge in the bowels, sea sickness an option we wanted to avoid so big plan change. Instead of a 6 hour power sail (nice way of putting it) we turned for Iskelesi harbour an hour away. The relief was palpable throughout the boat, we were taking a beating out there.

Iskelesi read well and on arrival looked so good. A beautiful little harbour bounded by attractive hostelries, fishing boats and local Izmirian yachts.... but alas nowhere to moor. Bummer!

Plan C please.

A mile north was an anchorage comprising a double bay. Harbour in one, anchorage in the other. The northern bay very shallow, only suitable for catamarans and shallow draft yachts but "only to be attempted in calm weather!!"

Well, lets take a look.

We did, we entered, we anchored and we swam. Moral soared.

When you have guests, you really want them to have a great time. Plan changes put you into unknown space and anything can happen. Fortunately, the Duncan's are a flexible mob, up for anything and we were all happy to be out of that blustering wind.

We dropped the dingy and motored around to the harbour. Other than the fact that they'd decided to dig up the entire road system, and I mean all of it, it was a welcoming little town with variety.

We ate at a great waterside restaurant, there was a tented market with everything and because the wind was not going to abate for at least another two days we planned a land based itinerary.

I'm not sure why, but wineries always feature highly in these plans.

The entrance from the car park

Some of the best wines we'd tasted came from a winery called Urla. It just so happened that the winery was a 20 minute taxi ride away and a 'must do'.

Sal called, they were open but no meals to be had? We taxied over and (choose your best superlative). This is without doubt the most impressive winery any of us had ever seen.

Tempus Two, Hunter Valley, Vas Felix Margaret River, you name it, nothing comes up to this place.

It is the venue that has been making wine for literally thousands of years.

It declined in the Turkish Republican era but was recently reestablished.

The money spent is impossible to estimate. The return on that investment... questionable but the experience... well, fantastic and thankfully, not on my dime!

At the end of the water feature above are three large underwater windows.The natural light illuminating the cellar below and somehow not effecting the brew.

No lunch, which was a little disappointing given the venue, the quality of the wine and the fact that we'd taxied over, but we were treated to an exclusive wine tasting and the range lived up to its reputation.

Between ourselves and the Duncan's, we bought a bit of wine!

We had been to the Urlice winery when we were in Alacati, covered in an earlier blog. That was such a pleasant, personalised experience that we decided the following windy day to take Sandra and Alan there to illustrate the contrast...

Well, our excuse anyway.

No pizza's this time, but a tasting, a cheese platter with their Rose and a tour of their unique cellar made it worth while.

These photo's always surprise. It is hard to believe how 'well' I'm looking these days! Ah well, it'll just have to wait...

We could not leave the area without a visit to Iskelesi. It looked so quaint when we tried to moor and we thought that if by chance a mooring had become available, we'd move the boat for the final night. Things had not changed on that front, but there was the most beautifully refurbished restaurant beckoning.

A fabulous Turkish meal was had and we were unanimously happy that the Meltimi had blown us into this part of the world.

The following morning it was time to return Alan, Sandra and Keyomi to Izmir to catch their evening flight direct to London.

The road works around our anchorage had made the boat more filthy than we could remember, the fine dust having worked its way into every crevice.

A night or two in Izmir meant we could once again get all the big laundry done and Al and I could give her a good scrub while Sal attended to the insides,

We spent the day in downtown Izmir for a final meal and a mini look around before it was time for a sad farewell. I reckon a couple of weeks would have satisfied our mutual appetites... Maybe next year the Duncan's?

Bye guys.... 'till Sydney!

Plomarion, Greece to Izmir, Turkey and a nice little lesson in Captaincy...Know your boat!

Time to rendezvous with the Duncan's in Izmir, all really excited about hosting them on the boat. The wind was to be perfect for a good sail all the way, a distance of 50.58 NM (about 96 Ks). At 9:00am it was a fairly technical departure. Al dived on the anchor to check if our chain had been crossed by our neighbour when they came in, the angle looked dodgy when they dropped theirs. Then there was the cross wind to deal with, but by 9:15 we were out of the harbour and the mainsail went up.

Nothing to do with the story but a great shot
Mum poured a bottle of ice cold water
over Will for being a little cheeky...

We'd been working on a way to untwist the main halyard (the line that pulls the mainsail to the top of the mast) because the power winch tends to wind it up. Untwisting it would allow the main to go all the way up and having succeeded more by luck than judgement untwisted and up she went. As it got to the top of the mast.... BANG!

The strap holding the clew (bottom back of the sail) snapped and in the big following wind the huge mainsail once again took out the jack lines and flapped dangerously high into the air. Nothing for us but to turn back into the wind, drop the sail and lash it to the boom. Once that was achieved, we turned and with only the headsail up, motored for seven hours in conditions absolutely perfect for sailing.... bum!

This kind of explained what the first BANG on the last sail was about. We think there must have been two straps but I simply did not know.... On reaching Izmir I was able to purchase the strongest line known to man and we should not have that little problem again.



Izmir sits at the end of a very long, large gulf and smells like a sewer the further into the gulf you go. It is however a clean, modern city by any standards. Levent Marina is well into the gulf but still a ways from where the action is. It is a small marina, the tender drivers are woefully inexperienced and we moored in a driving cross wind... not a great recipe.

Levent Marina without the wind

The first attempt failed. The tender was supposed to be on my lee side pushing the bow against the wind. He wasn't. There were supposed to be somebody waiting to take our lines on shore, There wasn't. We had to take her out of the slot and ignore the fact that the tender boat was even there. Just as we were getting into the right spot, there finally was a person waiting to take our lines but instead he pulled the slime line straight into our starboard prop cutting the engine!

"We really needed that one, thanks..."




Finally we were moored, only to be faced with the most disgusting harbour water we had yet witnessed and somebody had to go in there and untangle the prop... Before I'd even finished at the helm Al was in his togs, diving mask on, knife in hand and over the side.... I promise I was not procrastinating at the helm :-)..

This mall, recently renovated was designed
by the the same guy who designed the Eiffel Tower the in Paris

The marina is in the 'up-market' part of town, or at least that is the demographic attracted by the restaurants at the marina.

There were a few essential items to sort before the Duncan's arrived.... Clean the boat, do all the big laundry like sheets and towels, re-provision and get a new cast for Summer's arm... For some reason they had provided a soft cast in Kusadasi not knowing that Summer would be riding bikes, playing soccer with the boys, running around a moving boat...and injuring herself doing all three activities.






After a bit of research, some help from Mine (pronounced Minae) the Marina Manager and a word with our insurer, Sal took Summer to the EMOT Private Hospital and was treated, once again to first class medical care in a pristine facility, no English spoken. Summer came away with a brand new waterproof cast which she mistakenly thought she could swim in and was devastated to learn she could not. Poor kid.

That evening, Sal went to the airport to surprise the Duncan's, little did she know they were missing 1 bag and were whisked away to International to make arrangement's for delivery the next morning to the boat so Sal missed greeting them with Aussie flag in hand.. They arrived at the marina at the same time in separate taxi's... Great to see them again after quite a journey. Italy, via Istanbul to Izmir.

We had a late dinner at Potiri's on the balcony at the marina. A restaurant I would strongly recommend. We warned the Duncan's that the breeze they were experiencing was in fact a howling Meltimi out in the gulf which should be calmer in the morning but that if we wanted to avoid an uncomfortable sail, we should leave early in the morning.

The night had quelled the wind and we had planned a 47.5 NM sail back to Candarli. The bag was delivered by taxi at 11am. So much for an early start..We cast off at 11:10 on Sunday the 5th July. The wind was a more favorable angle than anticipated but strengthening and by 12:15 we had the main up on the second reef plus the headsail and were making 8-10 knots.

Sea sickness threatened and the thought of putting our newly arrived guests through 6 hours of this would have been a bad decision so we changed course for an anchorage just an hour away called Chesmealta.

Candarli - Turkey to Plomarion on Lesvos, Greece.

With the Duncans arriving on the 4th July, we had a couple of days to explore the region and the winds looked good for a 30nm westerly sail to Lesvos Island in Greece. So, at 10:20 on the 1st July, we weighed anchor and by 10:45 the sails were up and we were on our way...

There was a loud bang from the back of the boom when the mainsail went up, but an investigation (of sorts) revealed nothing untoward...?? By 12:55 the sails came down in nil wind and we motored for a couple of hours to Med moor in the delightful little harbour of Plomarion, power, water, loads of space 14 Euro for two days... gotta love them Greeks.

This island is famous for its Ouzo. This is a drink I cannot understand the attraction for, but I find myself in the minority on this...


So, off we popped to the Bapatiannh Distillery, the two kids and I on one scooter, Sal and Al on the other.

The production plant sits beneath a a museum of the history of Ouzo and this particular and very famous plant is now run by the 4th and 5th generation of a family of Ouzo makers since 1860. The Production plant makes four 'grades' of Ouzo ranging from 43% alcohol to Aphrodite at 48% by volume.

We learned the proper way to drink Ouzo and one big mistake is to put ice in it... Half Ouzo, half cold water and if it is sweet and not 100% distilled (should state this on the bottle) it is not good Ouzo. I still don't get it....?

We did however manage to endear ourselves to Yannis, one of the distillery workers, who ignored all other site see'rs, took us under his wing and showed us all the stuff not many get to see. We never did establish whether he was Mr 5th Generation.

There are 'No photo's and no Video's' signs everywhere and naturally we complied as always...

After the obligatory tasting of all four makes which were dryer than I've tried before, we were left to our own devices. Good thing we were on scooters and that I don't like the stuff!

Our host then pointed us in the direction of his Wife and Mother in-laws restaurant, 6kms on the other side of town along a magnificent coastal road.

Always skeptical of descriptions like "the best Greek food in Greece" He'd been so good to us we decided to give 'Maria's' Restaurant a go.

Situated in a small river valley right on the water, Maria's was indeed a great suggestion. A lovely ride to get there, a quaint rustic restaurant which served a meal that really was right up there and a beach and diving platform to swim and have the entire afternoon to sleep off the long lunch.

Interesting ashtray??

A wonderful day. The winds were looking favorable for a great sail south east toward Izmir in the morning. We'd have a couple of days there to ready the boat for the Duncan's which meant some juggling of the sleeping arrangements.

They would get the port aft queen suite. (Al's bedroom)



Will moves back into his double room so then Kiyomi and Summer could share Summer's room.....

What do we do with Al?

Well, Al being Al, he happily volunteered to move into the Captains cabin. This is a single quarter in the Port Bow accessed via a deck hatch and it had never been used for anything but storage.

He made it his comfortable home for the next few weeks as we had the Duncan's and will be hosting the Hayman's and then the Green's.

We also cleared and cleaned out the Captains bathroom in the Starboard bow which turns out to be the best loo on the boat!

Morning Al! As he emerges from said cabin after night one...

Oinouses to Eskifoca - another bum steer by Rod the God Heikel

The distances are larger, the winds stronger and the sea choppier than we are used to and so a long day's sailing can take it out of you. The plan was to position ourselves somewhere close to Izmir where we planned to rendezvous with Alan, Sandra and Kiyomi Duncan. They were flying in from Italy.

So, sail to Eskifoca on the Turkish coast about three hours north of Izmir. It got a reasonable recommendation and although it looked to me like it was directly exposed to the Meltimi from the north, 'the Book' said it was more protected than it looked.

We skirted Oinousses, set sail and headed north East in a consistent northerly.... As is regularly the case, no sooner were the sails up when the wind died. Motors on for four hours before the headsail came out again in a rising northerly..

After five hours and a now howling northerly, we arrived in Eskifoca. Full, grubby looking harbour with the wind boring straight into it... Plan B? Do we have a plan B...?





The only place that looked remotely viable was Candarli a very uncomfortable three more hours to the north and right into the teeth of the ever rising wind. At 17:10 after 8 hours of bouncing, wind blown sailing we anchored in the large protected bay...

Time for a swim!

The arduous journey and the disappointment of Eskifoca had left us drained of enthusiasm for Candarli. We waited till evening before dropping the dingy and sauntering into town..

Well, what a pleasant surprise! A lovely little town with a nice beach facing into another bay.

The Castle has been recently restored, open 24/7, free of charge and afforded great 360 degree views from the top of the turrets.

We settled into the Musto bar on the waterfront. Will brought his soccer ball and  in no time was kicking around on the beach with a newly made Turkish friend.

So nice we stayed on for a couple of days.

The following day the beach was packed with happy locals, Will had his mates.

On the second evening the place came alive with four restaurant/bars, evenly spread along the promenade featuring live bands. Contemporary Turkish music is quite Drum and Bassey with a traditional Ottoman back beat I find easy to listen to and would be good to dance to.


We resupplied the boat, pottered and explored. Sal discovered a local market with fresh seasonal fruit and veggies and because Candarli is north of Izmir, it is very likely we will be dropping anchor in that bay once more.

All is well that ends well....

Alacati to Oinousses via Bad Choice

We liked Alicati but was time to go. We felt it was time for a taste of Greece and chose 'a sleepy little gem of a place' as Rod Heikell (Author of the Greek and Turkich Pilot Book no sailor would be without) described it and with the wind from the north it looked like it would be an exhilarating sail...

The wind speed steadily climbed as we headed west and there is a warning that it can become treacherous as you pass the peninsular you see looking a little like the pigs nose. By the time we reached there, it was Meltimi time and for the first time, we got the whole reefing thing right. Turned into the wind we reduced the size of the mainsail to the second reef. Basically halving the sail area and furled the headsail to about half its normal size too. Yet with half the normal sail size we were still making eight knots...

When we reached Kataraktis we could not for the life us understand why it was described as 'a gem of a place...' armpit would have been more apt!

With little of interest on the west coast of Chios, no real choice but to beat our way north on a very uncomfortable sea for three hours to the haven that is Oinousses. A beautiful natural harbour protected from all wind directions and a huge relief after such a tedious voyage.


So much room, we went alongside, plugged ourselves into a waiting power source and kicked back. .

The town's claim to fame is that it was the birth place of Greece's wealthiest ship owner, and no, for your final question for one million dollars, it wasn't Aristotle Onassis, it was in fact Costa Lemos. For a place with not much going for it, the facilities here are amazing and the statues of the rich guys dotted about the place are testament as to why.


The local school had a full size basketball court which doubled as a futsal field. This Astro Turfed soccer stadium and athletics facility complete with Olympic style winner's podium would not have been out of place in Athens.

The grave yard, a place I always find fascinating housed the most elaborate mausoleums big enough for a game of squash.






But the place was dead (no pun intended) until the sun went down and out came the kids. Loads of them.

This is Will's prompt to bring out the soccer ball...

Within minutes it was game on and a very intense game at that. You'd have thought Will was a local with the high fives and team hugs whenever a goal was scored.

At one point the ball ended up on a high balcony, Will discovered the ladder and the team effort was inspiring to watch.

For the adults, there was the yacht club...

Apparently, August is when all the rich and famous families congregate. The harbour is full of motor yachts you'd expect the richest of shipping magnets to own.

There are some splendid looking homes which look as if they are used infrequently and unfortunately all locked up, we'd love to have had sticky beak.

Soccer for the kids, Yacht Club for the adults..

Now remember I was telling you about the cost of berthing in a marina in Turkey. I'll remind you that Alacati Marina was 130 Euro per night plus power and water. Oinousses, Greece where you go alongside, plug in without  having to ask or acquire a special fobb and had to find someone to pay. When I said we'd been there for one night and would be staying another, he said "Look, because you are a catamaran I'll say you just arrived and charge you only for the one night." How much??

7.35 Euro! Whilst I'm not complaining, it may have something to do with the comparison between Turkish and Greek economies...