Mahinda’s Little World

So, we awoke, all refreshed and raring to go, and headed over to a nearby taverna for brekkie and briefing (this was to become pretty much the morning routine). The weather really didn’t look nice, with slate grey skies and much wind, even in Sivota’s well-sheltered harbour.

Predictably enough, James told us that there’d be no sailing today. Cue murmurs of agreement. So, we chilled out a bit, had showers (of which I shall write more later), did some shopping, etc.

We also got Paul’s briefing about our boat, e.g. what controls did what, and stuff we had to do or watch out for. Just realised that I’d not told you her name - the Knight Odyssey.

It was around about this time that we spotted a tornado-type funnel thing spouting out of the bottom of a particularly nasty cloud, just over the next hill, i.e. pretty damn close. Good call, James.

An hour later, the sun was shining and the weather was fine! We were all called together for a quick briefing, and off we went, down to Fiskardo, at the top end of Kefalonia.

There’s something breathtaking about skipping along, sails out, surrounded by clear blue water framed with beautiful islands, verdant and mountainous. The water was pretty deep, reaching 100m or within a few hundred yards of the shore. Definitely not what our resident sailors were used to - I believe 20m is considered “pretty damn deep” when you’re on the Solent.

This was my chance to attempt to master the bowline knot. Which I did…but only when not under pressure. It’s strange how that works. I think I’m going to have to bring a bit of string into the office - rather than looking for inspiration while aimlessly twiddling a paperclip, I could at least obtain tech writing enlightenment while practising something useful!

We had a lovely day’s sailing, with two reefs* in as the wind was fairly strong (and we weren’t in a hurry). Beating** all the way, though. Towards the end, we wind died off so we put the whole sail up…which was nice…and then the wind died off completely…so we motored the last little bit and into the harbour, where James helped us moor up. Here’s a picture of the harbour - pretty, isn’t it?

* Basically, making the main sail smaller so as not to catch so much wind.
** Sailing into the wind, i.e. tacking lots.

Once moored up, we got some ice cream and headed around the corner to a delightful little beach, with oh-so-stereotypical olive trees. Ian, Amy and I had a bit of a swim, and found that the (very) salty water made it pretty hard work. Went back eventually, called the others boring non-swimming sods (possibly), and Amy and I then stood in the sun to dry off. Not as efficient as a towel, but more enjoyable.

Then it was back to base for showers and stuff.

After showering (of which I’ll write more later) we all headed into the Captain’s Cabin for a group meal. It’s the one with the blue awning! To put things into context, we were moored up just to the right of the picture.

The group meal was a nice little affair, and the first time we really saw all the flotilla together.

Once we’d eaten, Paul tried to get us off to Theodora’s for some cocktails. We were knackered, and after an early night…so Ian and I succumbed! We followed the small group to a rather nice little bar, up some stairs, with a lovely view and lovelier cocktail list.

This is where we got to know two couples who were definitely some of the characters of the flotilla:

• Paul and Alison - one an Essex lad, the other from Northern Ireland. Ballymena or thereabouts, I believe.
• John and Sheena - both from the province. Sheena was from Antrim, but I really cannot remember where her husband was from.

The ladies were rather chuffed with the fact that I’d been to their neck of the woods a couple of times, even identifying certain pubs and hotels that I’d visited. Sheena seemed to be on the verge of adopting Ian, while John was highly chuffed to find out that, like him, Ian had been a Warrant Officer in the Air Cadets.

We’d only gone out for the one. A couple more strong G&T’s later, we wobbled back to the boat. Oops. MANY thanks to John for sneakily settling the drinks bill.

Ian even managed to pull, with John grabbing him close for a quick smack on the lips! Don’t think Nancy (his fiancée, after all) was overly impressed. Stubble rash is no laughing matter

Greek Plumbing

This was something of a learning experience. Thanks to the Victorians, us Brits have always had good plumbing. The likes of Armitage Shanks dominated high class European plumbing for years, and we pretty much take these things for granted.

The facilities on board the Knight Odyssey were pretty cramped - as typical with a yacht of its type, the bathroom (or “heads”) was tiny - to shower, you’d have to sit on the toilet and lift the shower head off the sink. Nice.

Fortunately, the ports we used know this, and many tavernas offer shower facilities, usually for a couple or three Euros.

In Sivota, you headed up some stairs, handed an incomprehensible Greek woman €2, and got to use half-decent facilities.

In Fiskardo, things were a bit more complicated. After Amy and I wandered around for a while, we found a restaurant that promised them. We paid €3 each, and were escorted up some steps at the back of the building, to nice clean twin shower cubicles…with no water pressure whatsoever. It was also fairly tepid. Being next to each other, we shouted across and tried various on/off/hot/cold combinations, to no avail, before making do with what we had.

Tom and Dave (or possibly Ian) later found some far superior examples up a back street. Amy and I getting poor showers became a recurring theme, unfortunately.

So that’s showers. Then there were the toilets. Unlike over here, tavernas and the like seemed quite happy for you to use the facilities. Maybe it’s because we were always in little ports where the yachties boosted the local income considerably.

The thing is, the Greek sewage system is just not designed to take difficult things…like toilet paper. Cue big notices everywhere saying not to flush paper down the loo. The rule of thumb being “if it’s not passed through you, don’t flush it”.

All good, clean(ish) fun.

Y’AAAARRRRRRRR!

Almost forgot. Monday was International Talk Like a Pirate Day…and we got to observe it afloat; how cool is that?!

Y’aaarrrrrr!

Unfortunately, Cap’n Nancy wouldn’t let us make Roger walk the plank.