The debacle of Rhodes, more rude locals and some high tension on board...

A 10:00am start for the 'last' leg to Rhodes. Huge harbours and marinas, parking should not be a problem. Rhodes is on everybody's bucket list so we were looking forward to getting there, hooking up with the Frasers and checking the place out for as long as it took.

A 10 - 15 knot SW induced the sails to make an appearance and with motors assisting we made good time.... until one of the motors started to play up.

Hmmm... not that much experience with Diesels but the problem had to be fuel. Dirty fuel, water in the fuel, blocked fuel filter... but fuel for sure. Where to start? Hot engine so opened up the access doors to let it cool and we continued on one engine and the sails. Strangely enough we didn't seem to lose any pace ??

Once the engine had cooled and after shutting off the fuel supply it turned out to be quite easy to find the filter and replace it. Got it all sorted, but she wouldn't start? I knew from somewhere in the long gone that when a diesel engine has air in the fuel lines it needs to be bled but nothing in my memory had a clue as to how to do that. Sal asked if there wasn't some sort of pump? Back down the hatch.... what's this black button? pump, pump, pump, try that Sal! Vrooom whew! Who's the freakin genius then? Maneuvering in a big harbour on one engine was not going to be an option.....

Rhodes Harbour loomed, fenders out, lines ready, in we go. There's a good spot. As we position for anchoring a chap with a loud voice and waving arms explains that we can not park here, it is reserved. "Where then?" "Nowhere, you must anchor outside with those other yachts" "We don't want to anchor outside, we want to stay for a while and would like power and water" "Then go to another island!"..... end of dialogue!

"Efharisto".... which means 'thank you' in Greek, but not really what I meant. I made it sound much more like an expletive. The finger probably clarified that intention.

There was another harbour for large yachts... I mean the sorts of boats on which you might see the Murdock's or the Packer's. Not letting a tiny detail like that deter us, we motored past the anchored flotilla and unhappy looking yachts and into said harbour. A neat little gap between a Turkish Kaique and a fire fighting craft just big enough for us to sneak in and no waving arms to be seen.... Anchor, position, reverse and even somebody to take our lines..... we're in! Who are the freakin geniuses now?

Nicely set and planning to provision and clean the boat when a Turkish crew member on our neighboring boat leaned over to inform me that at 5:00pm we must all move to make way for the returning ferry.... Oh. Hold the accolades folks, what time is it and where is that next island?

It was 3:15pm, late and Symi was 22 nautical miles away. Sod it and sod Rhodes, we were out of there.... Unfortunately it meant that the Frasers, who were due the following day from Athens would have another leg of their journey to link up with us. So off we set in a 20 knot SW with sails up and engines running we made for Symi.

A really beautiful town in a picturesque natural harbour we followed a monohull and a catamaran in. We watched them turn full circle and head back out toward us.... not surprisingly at that time of day the harbour was full. Still, there was anchorage space just off the front of the town, the only problem being the depth. The land dropped away from 10 meters right up close to 40 or more meters within a very short distance. We don't like anchoring in anything deeper than 10 meters because if you get snagged, it would be too deep to dive onto and release.


We dropped anchor right up close to the parked fishing boats and tavernas and found ourselves being waved away by the locals.... what is it with eastern Greece? Ignoring them we dropped the pick, but it just slid down the steep slope into the depths as we reversed and failed to bite. We noticed the other late comers all having the same problem and by now the sun had dropped below the horizon.

There is another anchorage called Pedi Bay about 5 nautical miles, or 45 minutes away and we watched as 6 or more yachts hastily made for that. The charts showed that the underwater topography was the same there so we decided go for another closer anchorage in a bay around the corner.

Nearing dark we spot a small beach near a taverna. The bottom rose from 60 meters to 5 in less than 20 meters.

As we go to drop the anchor the female taverna owner, clearly forgetting we may represent custom that evening, aggressively claps her hand as if ejecting a goat from her premises! The anchor fails to bite and slides into the depth.

We move around the bay, more failures and more unwelcoming locals. Tensions rising and mutinous mutterings from the crew eventually has the captain putting his foot down, our only choice at this juncture was to successfully anchor in that bay which we finally do as darkness descended.


We acknowledged that it was more the attitude of the locals, starting in Rhodes that was so unsettling, disappointing and the underlying cause of the tension. We had done more than 50 Miles in biggish winds, we had had engine problems and Sal had done 7 anchor distributions in all. Not the best day so far and it was not over quite yet...

At 3:00am  I am woken by that intuition that develops when living on water. Up on deck I notice we have swung in a light breeze and are almost on top of a little speed boat. Nothing for it but to start the motors, move the boat back to the original position, dig out the other heavy anchor, lug it off the back into 60 meters of water and hope it is enough to hold us against the breeze so I could get some sleep.... it did and I did.