The (miss) Adventures continue..

The Reugg's gone, Sal back to bed and the Argostli day got underway.

The acres of open wharf became crowded with small fishing boats arriving with their overnight catch.

All manner of fish, nothing substantial in size. In fact it is surprising the size of fish that is allowed to be harvested here, most would be smaller than your hand.

Walking along the wharf I heard a loud splash right below where I had stopped. A large Leather Back Turtle was biting great chunks of seaweed off the wall and as it chewed so the now empty shells of resident shellfish spewed from the sides of its mouth.

Fish of all descriptions circling for the crumbs.

As I continued I was surprised to see many of these huge animals and I hoped they'd hang around for the kids to see... They did.

We received a visit from the Port Police. Butch and mean and clearly very proud of her uniform, telling us that we were to anchor stern to the wall and report to the station when we had done so. Once the kids were up, the laundry had been delivered to the laundromat and various other tasks had been completed, we duly moved the boat and Sally went off to see her new friend at the Port Authority Office. 23 Euro later, a 30% surcharge for the catamaran and an intimidating experience for Sally, we were left wondering what that was all about? We have not met any of the other boat owners who have even seen these uniformed proponents for the Greek tourist industry....

So, the plan? The winds was about to turn mean from the North. If we were to go sailing there are no safe anchorages on this side of Kefalonia, Jack would be flying into here on the 2nd July, so sailing to anther island wasn't practical and there was a whole lot of this island to be explored and it would be better done by car.

On the first day, being Thursday the 26th we tried all avenues to hire a car. None available? The Stoli's hotel manager, desperate to have us eat at his restaurant that evening directed us to a 'beautiful' beach, miles away that had no taverna. Thanks to Google we found one a 6Euro taxi ride away which looked to be suitable for what was left of the day. It was now 3:00pm and we were starving.

Gina, being a fluent Greek speaker directed the cab driver who explained that the beach we had chosen was not good with nowhere to eat. "Let me take you to one of the island's finest beaches with a Taverna and only 20Euros to get there. He was very convincing, but thankfully we were travelling in two taxis, there was no way of communicating the change of venue to those in the taxi ahead of us and so we plumped for Plan A.

Platis Gialos. Plan A. Note the 'nowhere to eat' Taverna....

Does this mean that between the hotel manager and the taxi driver the season has kicked in and the integrity of the locals has taken a dive... we really hope not. none-the-less the guard has now to go up and nothing can be taken at face value any longer..... Such a pity, or maybe it all starts with the Port Police and slides from there??

Platis Gialos was just perfect. The kids were out of their skin and out of our hair. We pigged out, found a spot under one of those thatched umbrellas close to the water, made friends with the waiter such that we didn't have to move and got to know those camped around us.

"Hi, I'm Irene and this is my son Paul, we're from Vegas" came from an attractive bubbly blond Greek native with a Vegas accent who comes here every year, and we got chatting.

Ron emerged from the water and joined us and the conversation. After a brief rundown of what we knew Ron said "I met a Greek chick when I was in Vegas years ago, her name was..ahhhh..... her name was...... Irene!"

I kid you not. On this crowded little stretch of beach that we very nearly didn't get to, this was the Irene.

Whilst they didn't recognise each other, Ron had been to Irene's house in Vegas, met her family and between them the memories came flooding back...

I was left wondering how often this nearly happens.





The 27th and a new plan. Thanks to Irene's connections, we managed to score a couple of hire cars. Ron and Gina decided to move to a hotel recommended by Irene which was 'very nice' and had a swimming pool.
We had decided, once again on Irene's recommendation, to go to Antisamos, a beach around the corner from Sami on the far side of the island, protected from the wind and one which we had sailed passed on our way to Poros.
They checked out of their hotel, loaded up the car and made for their new hotel while we headed off to Antisamos and would meet them there once they were sorted.
Not long into our journey we get a call. "The hotel is an absolute dump, the place we were staying is now full, can we stay on the boat for the night?" "You can stay on the boat as long as you like!"


To save time they didn't bother unloading their gear onto the boat, but made straight for Antisamos.

Whilst not so with the hotel, Irene was spot on about this place. It is an absolute must.

Taken from the road on the way in, (except we were now on the way out at 8:30pm...) it would be hard to imagine a better place to spend a day.

Here are some shots whet your appetite.

The Taverna Bar

Free sunbeds

Crystal clear water

The (miss) adventures for the Stolikas' clan...

By the time we reached Katiolis the headwind had reached 25 knots and the sea was rearing at us. Due to the confines of the Mediterranean the sea does not really develop a swell into which a boat can ride. Rather is develops and short wave 'chop' which, to the uninitiated can become uncomfortable, sea sick inducing and a little frightening...

Combine this with a bunch of kids who have not seen each other for a while, a couple of whom have been cooped up in a bus and a ferry for 7 hours, let them loose a bucking deck with previously unclarified ground rules and watch the tensions rise...

These shots taken on a later trip by car

Katiolis looked OK on arrival. The harbour, piles of big rocks in the rough shape of a harbour stood unprotected from the howling westerly, but once inside, the water was smooth and calm behind the ramparts but no space on the wall to go alongside. Had there been anybody around, we might have got them to shift a small fishing boat to allow us in, but alas...

We considered rafting alongside a yacht that looked as if it had been there a while and was clearly unoccupied. That was until we noticed that the method by which it was secured to the wall was on bent over pieces of rusty reo protruding from the very badly poured concrete wharf.

Italy was playing Uruguay at 7:00pm and we, well Max, really really wanted to watch that. Italy is his team. It was now 6:00pm.

OK, so we'll try anchoring. We figured that although small, it was very shallow and with good holding we would achieve a scope (the ratio of depth to length of chain) of 7 to 1 which is standard for an overnight stay. I took her right up to the west wall into the wind and Sal dropped the anchor. As I reversed, the combination of the anchor and the props kicked up the mud on the bottom of the harbour which clearly doubled as the town sewer..... and Pooooweee!

"C'mon, this is fine, we'll miss the game if we can't stay" says Max. I'm with him, it will all settle by the time we come home, it looked like a cute little town and the only alternative is to sail back to Poros with the wind at our backs but the wrong direction. It was already 6:15pm

The anchor bites, I let it settle then once we feel it is set, I apply full reverse just to make sure she holds... Poooooweeeee! as the anchor starts to slip, us downwind of it and in no time we are at the east wall. Nothing for it but to raise the anchor and make for Poros. Sal and Beat fain enthusiasm for the job of distributing chain... "no no let me" until chivalry prevailed and Beat gets the gig with shades of Sally's first ever lesson in Levkas. Fortuntely it hadn't caked and came up relatively clean, if not a little on the nose.

"Now we'll never make the game..." Poor Maxie was gutted as we motored out of the harbour, raised all the sail we had, turned and enjoyed conditions that catamarans are built for. Within seconds she settled into an  8 - 10 knot rhythm surfing the chop as we went, and although it was Med choppy, it felt smooth, warm and blissful in the evening light.

Poros. 19:58. Thankfully still some of the game left. This is not just because Max could still catch some of it, but more because the best sail to date had proved difficult to enjoy as each of our kids had played havoc with our respective nerves."Hey kids, all of you, go watch the game!" Whew.....

We have a full boat. We now have four more guests to whom we had suggested there would be plenty of accommodation and not to book in Poros. We were now back in Poros at gone eight as Ron trudged off at cocktail hour to find somewhere to sleep.

Now to say that the Stolikas' enjoy their creature comforts would be difficult to despute but Ron met us at dinner after an extensive search to announce that he had in fact found accommodation..... with some reluctance to describe the accommodation within earshot of Gina and the kids.

The following morning Max and Leo (Stolikas kids) arrived at the boat sans parents who had apparently both spent the night talking to that big white telephone! And the accommodation.... well, Maxie went to town. For him it was the reason the folks were ill, although later Ron explained that it wasn't that bad at all, must have been something they ate...... It had been a biggish night.

OK, lets get out of here, that westerly of yesterday had settled overnight but it was to return according to the trusty "Predict Wind" app. No sooner had we left Poros and earlier than anticipated, the Westerly did hit and even though we were heading south initially, the wind was curling from the west around the island which meant two things... it would be in our face the entire trip to Arglstoli and it would increase in strength as we rounded the southern tip of 'Kefilonia'. (if I have spelled 'Cephalonia' a few ways, that is because it is)

The Reugg's, Beat, Deborah and Luca had a flight to catch the following morning so no choice but to bash our way for five hours into conditions that a catamaran, or any vessel for that matter, is not designed for.

So, how goes the Stoli's second day on the boat? The kids are a little less exuberant.... sea sickness will do that to you. Whatever it was that ailed Gina and Ron was not going to improve in these conditions and so with my apologies, we just had to crack on.

At 4:05pm on the 25th June bashed and beaten we finally docked alongside in Argostoli. We had not really been looking forward to coming here because it was a large town with the inherent hustle and bustle. We had been directed by an aggressively intrusive high speed Coast Guard vessel as to where we should head for, but as we pulled up there was something instantly likable about the place.

With acres of wharf to choose a spot, we chose to go alongside. It is easier, more secure and avoids the need to do the anchor chain dance. Stoli's off and once again looking for accommodation...

Google had proven fruitless en route but a very helpful local directed us to the spacious town square and an hotel that had one room left. Everything else was full!

Yet another very fond farewell.....

The Ruegg's arranged a taxi for the airport at 5:45am and our last evening together got underway and it promised to be a late one.

They had been such a pleasure to have on board. Together me made a great team and it really was difficult to understand how Sally and I managed it all on our own.

They were headed for Istanbul with plans to join us on the Spanish coast next year some time...

Ay Eufimia to Poros

At 2:00pm after prying the kids from Paradise, filling with water, making a final use of the Port Captain's special anti-inflammatory cream, we untied, weighed anchor and set course for Poros.

Sprawled at the feet of rearing mountains slices through by a deep gorge cut by a river which flows into the bay, Poros looks to be a good place to explore. The river itself is controlled by a canal which cuts this little town in half but it was dry when we were there. I reckon it would be quite spectacular in flood.

The harbour, used by frequent large ferries dropping tourists, trucks and cars bound for elsewhere but very few stopping to check the place out. We Med moored in a place away from the ferry wash, nicely protected and pretty well empty when we arrived. Our crew now seasoned to the task making me wonder how Sal and I did it without them. Water but no power is provided on the quay and a resident mini tanker if we needed diesel.

It was scorching hot and 'the book' told of a bar set in a cave close to where we'd moored.

 Literally at the end of the wharf was the parental version of paradise!

Set in the rock, the Cave Bar brought the temperature down into the comfortable twenties.
The beers were served in iced glasses and the wine in ice buckets and we were quite sure it would have to have been midday somewhere in the world...

Two steps and you were in the crystal clear refreshing Ionion. The only work to be done being to figure out where we should get Ron, Gina, Max and Leo Stolikas to meet us.

They had planned to fly from Athens to Argostoli, about a 5 hour sail from here and a place we intended to get to for Beat and Deborah's departure on the 26th June and Jack and Stina's arrival on the 2nd July.

Too late and too expensive they decided instead to bus it to Kilini and Ferry to where we were in Poros.

To get to the town of Poros meant either going up and over  hill behind the Cave bar, or swimming there. My preferred option except when  I discovered why the swim there was so easy. No, it wasn't because I am so fit and svelte as I was deluding myself en-route, it was because a strong current runs around the bay making my return swim something of a marathon. No matter how hard I swam, that cave bar stubbornly kept its distance.

Fortunately there was a cold, refreshing reward when I finally got there.

The town had little to offer given its distance and the heat so we told Ron and Gina not to book an hotel in Poros. We would sail to Katiolis a little further south. The season has still to get fully underway and it seemed to us that there was plenty of accommodation everywhere....

On the morning of the 24th we had until the arrival of their ferry at 3:00pm in 40 degrees to burn (no pun intended). Sal and Deborah took the kids to town for a coffee and a swim and Beat went on one of his hill climbs. Something about the Swiss and hills...? I should be taking a leaf out of his book though because he had already picked up on the fact that calories become a problem when you hook up with the Wilkinson's in Greece.

3:00pm and the Stoli's duly arrived. We loaded, weighed anchor and punched into a growing headwind for Katiolis. A place with only a vague description of a new harbour, but the town itself read well and there was bound to be accommodation....

Fiskardo to Ay Eufimia - Cephelona

Once we'd had our fill of Fiscardo it was time to move on. Strangely you always know when it is time to move on though sometimes it is more difficult because each move engenders a minor culture shock. Each place, although similar in that there are other boats, a wall, tavernas, supermarkets and bars, always feel to be fundamentally different.

Eufemia is no exception. From a chaotic but lively Fiscardo, where for the first time we received a polite invitation from a rather fetching female port police officer to pop by and check in, to Eufemia where we were met at the dock by a waving, directing portly port captain who directed us at first by hand signals, and once within earshot, by voice into our designated parking spot. He issued instructions as to how exactly we should maneuver our boat and it was quite obvious that his instructions started with the lowest common 'sailing skills' denominator. I did not take offence and we got onto the wall without fuss although our anchor chain was off at a slight angle which can lead to crossed chains which is a bore.

The wall in Eufemia is long, straight and very well organised. Water, power, shiny stainless steel hoops that don't rust stain your mooring lines and a bill which includes a 30% surcharge for catamarans....

All up 30Euro a day which is good value.

Docked, set, bikes off, kids gone!

For the first time in a while we had managed to get the sails up and sailed all the way to Eufimia. This was doubly enjoyable because we had guests to enjoy it with us and crew to help. We did learn that this is not always a good thing...

We know what we're doing, we forget that they don't, the delegation process was half arsed and then we forget what we're doing..... don't we Sal?

Sal was to show Deborah how she distributes the chain as it is her favorite job. We've untied and Beat is ensuring that we are going straight out avoiding all the obstacles we missed on the way in. I have the chain coming is at a rate of knots from the helm and I notice Sally leaning over the front of the boat, coffee in hand showing Deborah.... something?

"Uh Sal, the chain?"



"Oh (insert your choice of expletive here)" says Sal as she dives for the chamber and frantically starts distributing the incoming chain before it jams.

Luca on the port pulpit in full sail

No harm done, we exit the harbour, turn the Summer Amy into the wind and raise the mainsail.... Well, we try to. This time it was my turn. Totally forgot to release the line that brings the sail down when your done with it which could have resulted is a lot of broken things, specially with very powerful electronic winches.

My error was picked up by Sal before anything broke, but these little cockups were not exactly confidence inspiring for our guests specially as we dueled for the best excuses and finally blamed them!

As we reached Eufemia I started the usual pre-arrival instructions like "can we put the fenders out"....

Oh, don't worry, we forgot to bring them in!




After we had docked and were set, I wanted to move the boat along the quay a notch to straighten our anchor chain. No need to bring it in, simply undo a line or two and slowly use the rather stiff cross wind to blow us slowly along the quay.

No way we could do this without the permission of afforementioned Port Captain but there were quite a few boats coming in so we had to wait.

I gave them a hand with the incoming boats and started to develop a good relationship with them. They were jovial cads, charming all the female occupants of incoming yachts and gratefully accepting bottles of wine for their services. Once they were done, they came to give me a hand. The cross wind was pretty strong, so this was to be a delicate operation but they did see the necessity and competently got to work, once again issuing clear instructions but this time not quite at the lowest denominator for which I felt complimented.

The final move was to take a line up to a winch which had the power to straighten the boat in the cross wind, but this had to be done quickly. They wrapped the line around the bollard on the dock and tossed it back to me, I grabbed it turned to get up to the helm and stepped straight into an open hatch.

Ouch! What was that I was saying about the common denominator?

Nothing broken but excruciating having to continue straight on with the task or lose the boat!

Some special anesthetic by the glass required...
and another good thing about having guests, they bring new movies for the kids!

Electronic babysitting, home schooling by another name, allows mum's and dad's to do a little home schooling of their own, sans kids.

Beat took the kids off to explore the place, mainly to find somewhere suitable to swim. The harbours themselves are seldom suitable for swimming as they are enclosed and the water is always a little off colour, the reasons for which having been covered before...

In Luca's words they discovered 'paradise'.

A natural rock slide.

An absolutely beautiful spot a five minute walk away. Deep, crystal clear water. Rocks of varying heights to launch from. Each one more and more daring and more and more thrilling for the squealing kids as peer pressure drove them ever higher.

Just try prying them away from this in 40 degrees.

We did need to be in Agostoli, a 35 nautical mile sail away and the island's airport by Wednesday evening, there were other places to see before we got there, so, sadly we did pry the kids away and moved on.

Fiscardo - take II

Before arriving in Levkas, both feeling like I'd put the mocker on it in previous blogs, I called my friend Andreas of Sail Land regarding the Windlass. He trouble shot on the phone in an effort to avoid the need for us to make the journey but to no avail, work was required that I was unable to do.

If anybody reading this blog ever needs anything done on their boat whilst in the Ionion, there is no beter man to deal with than Andreas Gabrilli. He just exudes integrity and wastes not a word. The job is always done when he says it will be done, the cost is always reasonable and the work is always done well.

I explained that we really didn't want to stay any longer than necessary so he arranged to have the electrician meet us when we docked. Remember we are headed into the high season here when businesses like his are flat out. We docked, the electrician turned up and diagnosed the problem as a faulty relay switch which turns the windlass clockwise. He'd be there by 9:00am with a new relay switch. He'd also take me through the entire electrical charging system to ensure everything was hunky dory and to give me a better idea as to how to manage it.

We had one of those Saharan desert rains where a dust storm in North Africa gets blown into the sky and comes down onto our nicely cleaned boat as mud. The Gurney was required and a couple of hours to get the stuff off. You can only do this when hooked up with water and power and you have to get onto it quickly before it cakes in the sun.

At 2:00pm on the 18th June we untied and motored, destination Fiscardo four hours away. Once south of Levkada, the headsail went up in a good 25 - 20 off the starboard stern quarter and we made 8 - 9 knots all the way.

Turning up anywhere at 6:00pm is not a good idea as you'll have difficulty finding a parking spot. Turning up in Fiskardo at 6:00pm is crazy. This is a very buzzy town, a flotilla target, ferry's, charter boats, private yachts, you name it. There used to be a long wooden pontoon here with power and water, but on entering the harbour it was obvious, that was no longer there.

In its place was a line of yachts with long lines ashore. At the end of this line looked to be a space on the wall, obviously too shallow for yachts with keels, but we decided to poke our nose in and suss it out. A very articulate gentleman on the wall shouted that we had about two meters depth, which was music to our ears. We pirouetted, dropped the anchor and started reversing. Getting close to the wall, the water so clear you could see everything, it just didn't look like two meters from where I stood at the helm. We slowly edged our way in, Sally directing me around obstacles as we went.

Well, we made it. This shot taken from the top of the mast.... Don't ask... Once we were in and set, I donned goggles and snorkel and jumped in to take a look. The starboard rudder was on the ground, we had missed a huge concrete block by less than a foot on the way in which we had thought was deep enough had we gone over it NOT. We were left wondering... if that was two meters what was this chaps idea of 7 inches! He was now nowhere to be seen. However, in the end, my bad, not his.

Nothing for it but to dig a big hole under the rudder and tie the boat so she would not move because there was no way were giving up this prime spot over that minor detail.

The big screen TV in the cafe under those brollies you see to the right was close enough for us to watch the world cup without leaving the boat if we'd wanted to. Australia was playing that evening and we managed to persuade the cafe to give us water and power.

Our friends Beat and Deborah, their son Luka, Will's mate from school were joining us from Aus two days hence so we decided to stay put so they could experience this town. Nobody we've spoken to has liked Fiskardo much, but we think it s a great place. We'd have to say that our jammy setup has a lot to do with it but it has a real buzz about it and within a couple of days, Sally was known by all as usual and we felt quite at home again.

Not much room on the quay if you want to get right on to the wall and because of the curved shape of the quay, crossed anchor chains are a given here and a real pain.

Tavernas and bars the entire length of the quay, in the back streets and around the town square.

In the foreground are the line of yachts with long lines ashore where the pontoon used to be.

The entrance to the harbour, looking east toward Ithaka and a big storm brewing.

 A flotilla.

There were two of them here, each consisting of 13 boats. These guys are parked on the northern shore line with lines ashore.

The problem here is the prevailing wind blows along the line of boats and can get pretty strong. One anchor goes and it's dominoes and all hell breaks loose! Usually in the middle of the night...

Prime position. Bikes off and you can see the waiter in the cafe with the  big screenTV off his left shoulder.

A Skype with Beat and Deborah in Zurich revealed the size of effort they were to make in order to get to us.

After the exhausting trip from Aus to Zurich, it was a flight to Athens, a bus to Patras, a ferry to Sami and a taxi to Fiscardo. When they got to Patras all ferries had been stopped from there, so nothing for it but to overnight in Patras and bus to Kellini. A ferry from there to Sami then Taxi to Fiskardo.

At 6:00pm on the 20th, they finally made it.

And no messing about, it was straight to work for them!

Frikes to Varthi - Ithaca

At 11:15 on the 16th June we reluctantly and lethargically started the engines readying ourselves to move on. Destination Vathi on Ithaka, same island, vastly different place. Moments before we cast off, we were stopped and presented with this gift from the townsfolk.

Odysseus. Google it... really cool, the perfect thoughtful gift and guardian for our boat.

We will return to Frikes at some time in the future. We felt so at home there and it is right up there in our top three places to stay.

Graeme and Kate's mates, Dave and Steve caught up with us in separate yachts in Frikes. These guys are sailing single handed and Steve is 70 years of age. Graeme and Kate were to sail on with them to other parts and Sal and I wanted to check out Vathi.

I'll start by quoting the Ithaka tourist guide...

"Vathi has been the capital and port of the island since the 16th century. It is the biggest settlement on the island, built like an amphitheater, natural horseshoe harbour in the depth of a closed bay, whence its name of Vathi, meaning 'deep'. Vathi is surrounded by mountains and hills, while the strange shape of the port forces ships to turn left twice in order to approach it. Due to its natural form, Vathi is considered to be the most picturesque of Mediterranean ports and the safest in Greece.

Well it is breathtaking! Still feeling bereft after leaving Frikes it was hard to appreciate or connect with Vathi. As I have said, travel and goodbyes go hand in hand, but we are pleased we did make the move to Vathi. Breathtaking in scale and natural beauty, this place has to be on the bucket list for Grecian stops. We arrived 2:30 in the afternoon, and having been here by car, we had sussed exactly where we wanted to moor and found the spot empty on arrival.

This photo does the place little justice. This is the entrance spoken about in the quote above and it lives up to the hype. Dramatic, picturesque and comfortingly protected.

Med Moored opposite the town square in the centre of the action. Before nightfall we were fully accompanied by new arrivals on either side of us.

Safely moored. Kids off on their bikes. Tummy announcing lunch time and a cold glass of Rose on the helm seat to kick it all off. Perfect.

We found this lovely spot for lunch right on the bay, but there was an eerie quiet about the place. As Sal put it, it was like a facade or movie set. When we inquired of the Taverna, the town is owned by foreigners who come in July and August but until then, all these houses around the harbour are boarded up.

The town explodes during that time and I'm not sure I'd like to be there then either. Suffice to say, it is a spectacular port, but hard to get under the skin.

And so we decided, that because we had panned to meet Beat, Deborah and Luca somewhere on Cephalonia we'd head for Fiskardo on the northern tip of the island.




At 12:10 on the 17th June, we weighed anchor. As usual it came up caked in mud and the normal way to solve this problem, and this is a major plus for the Catamaran, you simply leave it submerged and drag it along until clean. On a monohull the anchor would simply tear a hole in the bow.

However, on this occasion, just below the surface was as far as the anchor would rise. A solenoid on the windlass failed and she would not come up. Fortunately is was almost there and could be manually raised with effort, but now we, in effect, had no anchor....

This meant finding somewhere where we knew we could go along side. Somewhere where we knew we could get it fixed, somewhere other than Fiskardo..... Yep, you got it, we are back in Lefkas!!!

It is unlikely I will be blogging from here on this occasion, but you never know!

Meganisi to Frikes on Ithaca Island

Graeme and Kate decided to stick with us, so at 10:45 on Friday the 13th we headed south on glass to Frikes, Ithaca.

The definition of Glass

Closing on Frikes, Sally did the customary pre-arrival re-read of the approach, mooring and facilities of the place we are about to enter. "what made us choose this place?" I asked having heard snitbits like... "With the prevailing wind there are strong gusts out of Ormos Frikou and care is needed" or "The best place is the SW breakwater. Other berths, particularly those on the NW quay are badly affected by wash from fast ferries passing outside the bay!"

This was a tiny harbour, it promised to be full, no power or water, it was Graeme's first shot at Med Mooring with a large spectatorship and it was Friday the 13th!
Ah well, something made us choose it. Kioni Bay is just around the corner so we have a Plan B if it all goes pear shaped...




I have tried to join these two shots to give you an idea of the whole harbour taken from an ancient windmill up the hill.

Those are our's and Graeme and Kate's Catamarans on the 'best place' SW Breakwater.

A panoramic of the bay from the town. Those are our two masts in the background centre

Amazing how life never hands you quite what you expect. We found the harbour all but empty so we were able to take prime position of the SW breakwater. A water truck turned up to fill our tanks at 3Euro per 50 litres and the town itself is inhabited almost entirely by Australian and South African Greeks.

This was reflected in the hospitality, the fusion of food, the celebratory atmosphere of the World Cup as both Greece and Australia were to play during our stay and before long we felt absolutely like locals. Laundry done by Kiki at the super market, hot showers behind her place. We managed to provide custom to just about every outlet in town, they were all that genuinely welcoming and it was all we could do to drag ourselves away in the end.

We hired a car as is becoming the norm, so as not to miss anything of the place if we don't get to sail there. Ithaca is a rugged, mountainous island, dramatic in every sense. It is an adrenaline rush just driving along the narrow precipitous winding roads with breathtaking views threatening to take your eye off where it really needs to be, adding to the buzz.

We visited the monastery at the very heights of the island. Beautiful and baffling as always... who builds these places, how did they do it, who lives here and why??

Port Vathi from the Monastery. Our next stop.

We drove to Kioni. I'm glad we did. It is beautiful and would have made a great Plan B to Frikes but we would not have experienced what has to have been our most favorite stop yet.

Kioni is a large horseshoe harbour with plenty of space and places on the wall to moor.

Wine as it was sold when I lived in Italy in the early 80s and probably for centuries before that. Fill the demijohn and place it on the scales. Weigh it and pay by the kilo, or litre... they amount to the same thing!

This was the oldest winery in Greece and the only building to survive the devastating earthquake of 1953. It is now a very nice shop filled with fine art pieces.

Needless to say, Sally was taken by one of these....

What is it about wineries??

Port Atheni - Meganisi Island

At 1:20pm on the 11th June, we started our engines, cast off and left Levkas for what we feel will be a long time. No disrespect to this vibrant, friendly town, but it just felt as if we could not get away.

Another British flagged Lagoon 440 had moored ahead of us on the same quay and we had come to know the owners, Graeme and Kate from the UK. Graeme was newer to all this than we and not confident to sail his boat to places unknown so we asked if they'd like to convoy with us to Meganisi.

Just over an hour away is Port Atheni on Meganisi. We had the headsail up in a 10 knot off the port beam which helped the engines but it really wasn't worth raising the main for an hour. The wind died altogether after 30 minutes so we furled the heady and motored all the way.

Meganisi is a beautiful island with inlets resembling fingers along its north eastern coast. Enumerable protected anchorages where you anchor out, reverse toward the shore then take a long line to the shore and tie it to anything available.... a large rock, a stout olive tree and even sometimes a conveniently situated metal ring put there by the locals to encourage trade at their nearby tavernas.

We had been to this island before, practicing Med Mooring at Vathi and Spatakhori when Ken, Brian and Phil Berman were here but these places were closed at the time before the start of the season.We chose Port Atheni because we hadn't been there at all and in any case Little Vathi and Spatakhori were just a shortish dingy ride away if we chose to go.



Cruising right into the head of the long bay we found it to be full and uninviting. Anchoring further out was the preferred option where the water was clean and crystal clear and other boats were at anchor giving the place a serene sense of relaxation.

No bicycles when anchoring but the kids weren't too fussed. That square item you see next to Summer is about 30 feet down

We all dined at the local taverna and celebrated our first long line to shore mooring. Not much to it really, but hey... something to celebrate!
On the following evening we decided to take the olive grove walk to the nearby town of Katomeri at the top of the hill... about a 15 minute hike.
Graeme and Kate stayed on board as they don't eat as much as we do.

Well, nobody does... Yesterday William told me confidentially... "I haven't even told Summer this Dad, but you and Mom are getting fat".
Why not just say it like it is Son?

On arrival in Katomeri we found it to be as enchanting as most, with cobbled streets and tiny houses right on the street, tiny 'super markets' but here, only a couple of Tavernas. In the first were a few tourists so we continued on.

Around a bend and into the 17th century...

Here was this old lady toiling away on an ancient loom. Of course it needed photographing, but before that happened, out came a small bag containing finished items...
17th century loom, 21st century business methods! A small cotton cloth with some colour weaved through it. 20 Euro and how could we say no? not even sure what we've done with it!










We found the 'local' taverna around a corner and a little way down the hill. Wouldn't you know it, the Opening Ceremony of the World Cup Soccer was on the box, made very welcome we settled down to yet another celebratory feed, the ceremony and the first game. Brazil v Can't remember?

"Is there a quicker way home from here?" we asked. "oh yes, carry on down the hill, right at the church and straight down the hill"

When we got to the church, neither of us could remember left or right, left looked to be the best most commonly trod option so off we went. On finally reaching our 'destination', we found ourselves in Little Vathi, one bay away from our dingy and a long walk all the way back up the hill to the church and down again at 1:00am with two small, tired children...

We went back to the taverna and were reminded, "Right at the Church!" so off we trudged anew. Half way down the hill it all started to look a little iffie... Do we go all the way down to find ourselves, once again in the wrong spot,,, We voted. Up we went having decided to retrace our original steps back through the town passed the loom, the tourist taverna and another 15 minutes through the olive groves. It was now 1:30am with two small children...

At the top of the hill we happened across two gentlemen discussing the game. One of them was in a car and after a short conversation he gave us a lift to our dingy. We arrived at the Summer Amy just short of 2:00am and I'm here to tell you that those kids did not winge once through the entire saga!