Ploy number one – get our anchor so tangled we could never leave.. No sooner had I returned from the internet cafe to post my June update, then chaos let loose in the anchorage. A Turkish boat had accidentally lifted our anchor, got it tangled with the next two boats in the row, dropped it again 50 metres from where he picked it up, then laid his anchor over the whole mess! All the boats were screaming at the offending captain, but Peter was as cool as a cucumber. Just by using Tommy Thumb (the dinghy), his mask, snorkle, flippers and a lot of strength he was able to sort it out, even manually re-laying the Turkish Boat's anchor. Georgeco, the Turkish boat's captain, said Peter was his hero (so he was immediately forgiven), then invited us round for cool beers to say thank-you. It turned out he was suffering that bad combination of inexperience, new boat, dodgy engine, broken windlass and being a retired Turkish Airlines Captain.
Ploy number two. Make checking out of Turkey too complicated. With both the current and wind in our favour, Alexina flew down the Dardanelles under sail to Canakkale to check out of Turkey. Peter had gone through this process many times and knew every Port of Exit used a different procedure. We soon discovered the process for Canakkale was, in strict order:-
- Complete the exit part of the transit log. Go to the Harbour Master. Have sheets 1, 2 and 3 of the exit part of your transit log stamped at the Harbour Master.
- Have our passport's stamped at the Passport police and all details entered into a folder and on the computer. A stamp is placed on all three pages of the exit part of the transit log and the entry part, pages 1 and 3 are stamped. A photocopy is made of page three and the police keep page one.
- Have another form stamped at Customs and our details entered into a large, black book. Naturally the transit log, exit part is also stamped and a photocopy taken.
- Take all completed forms back to Harbour Master where he would check all the paperwork, supply a final stamp and ply Tiger with sweets and photographs of his children.
Easy. Now why did it take us 5 hours? The sting in the tail is that the Passport police are some 6km south at the commercial harbour. This would involve two sweaty bus rides and an hour's walk in the blazing sun.
5am the next morning saw us waving a fond farewell to Turkey and, helped by the current pouring out of the Dardanelles, we sailed furiously the 70 odd miles to Samothraki. Our average speed was well over six and half knots, with long parts at 7 knots. That's a lot for little Alexina and broke our day sailing record.
Peter loves Alexina with all his heart and soul, so it can be jolly difficult to persuade him to go sightseeing unless he is happy with Alexina's mooring arrangements. At Samothraki I thought we had hit gold when we found an alongside berth with water, electricity and the OK from the
Harbour master. The island had been on my 'must go to' list for many years after reading that it was the home to the ancient Gods. Whilst visiting their sanctuary we must have done something to upset the Gods because next day bad luck descended on us. Standing at the bus stop ready for another day's adventures, we spotted a large yacht acting strangely right by Alexina. Peter ran to investigate and found that their dinghy had caught our lovely stainless steel starboard davit and bent it in half. After that even the sensational waterfalls of Samothraki could not raise our spirits and we will have to come back again some other time to fully enjoy it.
Hurrah for school holidays! Rest time for both mother and child, but the learning never stops. History lessons filled our time at the island of Thassos, our next stop. Here is a day's schedule that would delight the most diligent of history teachers. Start at the Thassos Harbour Museum and travel 60,000 years back in time to see tools used by prehistoric man to mine ochre, then stand in awe in front of the 800 BC Goat God Collossus (surely something made in Egypt not Greece). Next take a walk around Thassos itself to discover that under this smallish town was once a huge, prosperous
city that existed from Ancient Greek times to beyond the Roman empire. Next, take a climb to the Medieval Forts on the hill. Hot and sweaty after all this? Finish with a cooling snorkle to explore the remains of the ancient Greek naval and commercial harbours, strewn with pieces of pottery and amphora.
Too much history? Then sail to the south of the island to the Bay of Aliki for sun and sand. But there's no escape here. At the end of the headland lies an ancient sunken marble quarry where you can dip y
our feet in the pools created by the quarrying activities and let the shrimps nibble away all that dead skin between your toes. The beach may be crowded but just take a look at that anchorage. Can you believe we had it to ourselves in the middle of July?. The crew of Alexina love the Northern Aegean (but don't tell anyone or all the boats will want to come here too.)
The plan was to pick a superb sailing wind to take us the final jump of this month to the Halkidiki peninsula but faced with the choice of no wind or a gale, the 'no wind' option won. After a glorious day on the beach at Aliki, we had supper, a swim, then pulled up anchor just as the sun was going down. No need for GPS that night, our path was lit by a huge moon that displayed our heading, the 2033m high Mount Athos, in perfect detail. We arrived at the foot of the mountain at dawn to gawp at the monasteries that festoon this peninsula, and then we broke the law. Can you believe in this day and age that NO WOMEN are allowed on the peninsula, nor even within a mile of the coast. So you can image me saying, “come on Peter, let's get a little closer....come on, closer still....just a little bit further”..........while I looked through the binoculars trying to decide which of these magnificent buildings will be mine when the revolution comes.
What does a family c
ruise boat do when it needs a bit of a holiday? Find a nice quiet island, with soft sandy beaches and go camping. Our special island was Dhiaporos on the Halkhidiki peninsular. Tiger and I went to sleep watching a brilliant red moon rise up over Alexina in the anchorage and listened to the waves lapping at the shore. Peter was left to look after the boat and would give me 5 hoots on the horn if the wind got up in the night and the anchor dragged.
The one great disappointment of the last few months has been the lack of other family cruising boats; not even one since we left Maritea on Limnos! That said, Peter and I have enjoyed having Tiger to ourselves. Peter has been teaching her drawing and reading 'Swallows and Amazons' aloud. I've pulled the recorders out of deep storage and Tiger and I are both learning to read music together (while Peter hides on the bow with ear plugs in). We are just not any good at playing like an eight year old should. So we headed Alexina round the second finger of the Halkidiki peninsula and back towards the sailing yacht Maritea , Damian, Juliette and fun! Within an hour of arrival Tiger had jumped ship and we would not see her for 3 days.
The highlight of the month was a visit from Marlinde, our good friend from Brighton. She had been loyal to us in the days when our boat, Starfish, was an 80 years old Cornish lugger, wooden and in need of complete restoration. She would come for whole weekends to w
ork side by side with us, painting and varnishing; her only reward being huge fry ups for breakfast and Peter's special curry for tea. This had earned her enough credit to be treated like a queen. Marlinde's only request was to go sailing every day. We just about managed this, even doing that strange thing I once read about in a RYA text book called 'tacking'.
The only other time we had been to sea with Marlinde was in our old boat when it broke down in entrance to Portsmouth Harbour, right in the path of a Royal Navy De
stroyer. A nearby tug showed great kindness and towed us back in for no charge. Here we were 10 years later and able to return that favour, this time to a motor boat broken down in the entrance to the stunning natural harbour of Porto Koufo. Marlinde much preferred to tow than be towed! Out of interest, we later discovered that Porto Koufo had been used to pen German submarines during the Second World War.
*So, finally, a quick note on the title of this blog and a bit of history from the last century. In July 1923 the Greek and Turkish Governments agreed to a population exchange. Some 1.5 million ethnic Greeks had to leave their ancestral homes in Turkey and 400,000 ethnic Turks were forced to leave Greece. They left their houses, their friends and all their possessions. Some of the ethnic Greeks from Turkey were resettled in the Nea Marmara area forming a new town (this is where we have ended our month). Peter and I wonder, as the name of this town suggests, if these people came from the Sea of Marmara area of Turkey (where we started our journey this month). The few guide books I have read are remarkably coy on the subject. Certainly were not been surprised to see that Nea Marmara looks much more Turkish than Greek.
