Mahinda’s Little World

I awake to find the Knight Oddity empty. Find watch. Check watch. Swear. Pull clothes on and, bleary-eyed, stagger off the boat. I seem to have missed the briefing, but the others are happily scoffing breakfast at the Captain’s Cabin. No, that’s still not a euphemism.

I don’t think I had any brekkie, and was definitely feeling a bit groggy. Probably the after-effects of those cocktails. Thankfully, it had been the first decent night’s sleep I had. I needed it.

So, the plan was to sail around Ithaki to “Big Vathi”. Yet again, the wind was fairly against us, but we had plenty of time to tack away, with some more nice sunshine to make things pleasant.

A couple of hours later, and we were around the headland of Ithaki/Ithaca/etc. The wind, of course, had switched round to make sure that we were still pretty much into it. By this point, we were feeling hungry, so stopped off in a sheltered bay for a spot of lunch.

This was the first time we’d anchored up…and it was interesting. For a start, we were very close to shore by the time depth gauge read 10m (our maximum depth for anchoring), so we didn’t have much room to play around in - basically, we’d let 40m of chain out (the lot), so pure trigonometry dictates that we’d drift around a bit. The fact that it was a bit windy didn’t help.

Still, Cap’n Nancy was suitably satisfied by our second attempt, so I ventured below deck to sort out lunch (ham/chicken/salami/cheese sandwiches were our staple lunch for the rest of the trip) while Amy and Ian leapt(-ish) off the boat for a swim. I even braved a leftover greasy sausage roll, and was amazed to see the sheer number of fish that’d come up when I dropped pastry into the water. Little shoals of grey-blue fishies, darting here and there, shown up beautifully thanks to the clear water. All very nice.

Despite much persuasion, Dave stubbornly refused to don his Speedos.

Shortly after we were finished, another yacht came and anchored up far too close to us for comfort, so we lifted the anchor and headed off on our merry way.

As we got out of the bay, we realised that the wind had picked up some, the sun had gone in, and it was getting a bit cloudy. Needless to say, the wind was still against us, so we proceeded under engine power. Fortunately.

The Imperfect Storm

As we got closer to Vathi, the weather got steadily worse. Then, all of a sudden, there was a complete white-out, with rain (and I think hail) lashing down, a strong wind tossing the boat all over the place, and visibility down to about. Ian’s description shows that he does indeed have the soul of a poet:

“Yuck.”

Nancy’s a very lucky girl.

For some reason, I was below deck at the time. Being more Captain Pugwash than George Clooney, I decided that this was A Good Thing, and stayed there.

Life jackets were dished out, and we headed in the only direction that was safe. Away from any land that might be out there. Amy radioed Zephy (the lead boat) to tell them this, namely that Judgement Day had come early and we were headed out to sea.

Apparently, this worried the rest of the flotilla somewhat, who were mostly behind us. We later found out that the worst hit were the American couple, who managed to be right in the middle of things.

Anyway, Zephy (I think it was James) told us that it was perfectly clear in the harbour, and that we should head straight in. So bearings were taken (first time I’d done that!) and we headed back, into (unbelievably) clear skies. Amazing.

Mooring up was done a bit away from town, by Dimitri’s Taverna, where the owner (Dimitri, presumably) had made up a large (but not exactly beautiful) concrete area around which the sailing flotillas (flotillae?) tended to congregate.

It was a bit of a nightmare, as just about every boat out there had decided that they’d had enough. Fortunately, James was handling the negotiations, and was mooring boats up three or four (and more, we found out later) deep. Apparently, that’s perfectly normal - everyone parks up and then just walks across all the other boats to get to land.

Unfortunately, I missed it, but it was reported that James pulled off one maneouvre where, with a row of 6 boats on one side and 4 on the other, and only just over a boat-length to play with, he managed to drop a single boat in without any collisions. It’s hard to describe unless you know what I’m talking about, but it was impressive!

We fairly quickly headed to the taverna for some drinks. We needed them.

The weather, by this point, had gone all sunny again. We read in the Harbour Guide* about Vathi’s “afternoon squall”, which we had to watch out for. Apparently, that wasn’t what we got.

* Sailing Holidays guide book, with details of all the harbours that they use.

Cap’n Nancy reckoned it (the wind) was “force 7 gusting 8″, which is pretty nasty. Not the sort of stuff you want to be out in.

You Want Dat Fish?

I’ve already mentioned the crystal-clear water and the little fishies swimming in it, but I’ve not mentioned all the line fishing that we saw. At just about every harbour, there was an old man (or three) dangling some nylon (from nothing more high-tech than some card) into the water, with a couple of hooks, weights, etc. attached to the end.

Now, while sitting in Dimitri’s, I spotted John and Paul on the jetty, so I nipped over to say hello and find out how they’d got on. Turns out that John was doing a bit of fishing himself, so I stopped and chatted for a while. I even had a go - my first fishing experience! Needless to say, I didn’t get anything, but it was only for a couple of minutes.

I handed the line back to John, and he caught a fish (with little shrimps as bait) within seconds - a hand-sized black and grey things with lots of spines and a huge mouth. It wriggled and jiggled, and was put back into the water while John found a carrier bag - he didn’t fancy trying to unhook it with those spines in play. So I held the line for a bit, while the little fish tried to get away. For such a small thing, it had quite a bit of tug. But then, so would I if I was in the same predicament.

Carrier bag found, we reeled fishy back up, John unhooked it, and it was left to swim merrily on.

Not sure I approve of that sort of thing as sport - I mean, a hook through your mouth has got to hurt. Catchin’-fer-eatin’ is another matter, of course - any meat eater, as I quite definitely am, would be a hypocrite to deny that.

So, back to the taverna, where I found out that Ian and Nancy were off for a romantic dinner that evening…which left me free to eat a fish!

Y’see, Nancy has a thing about fish. They’re okay in filleted form (but she’d rather not have them anywhere near her), but as whole-fish-on-a-plate, well, she’s really not happy. Nancy, if you’re reading this, I’d look away NOW.

I like fish, especially whole-fish-on-a-plate, so took my chance with glee. Tom decided to join me, so we asked the waitress. She then took us to the kitchen area, where the cook emptied out a carrier bag, to reveal a few whole fish, undeniably fresh. Apparently, they were sea bream. I think.

A little while later, we saw the fish being slapped onto the hot coals of the outdoor barbecue. Eventually, they were brought to us on a plate. We hadn’t ordered any sides (oops!) so it was just fish, a whole fish, and nothing but the fish. Each. Barbecued to a delicious crisp, with nothing but a bit of garlic and lemon. It was VERY tasty.

Nice though the fish was, it was Dave’s monstrous cut of veal that drew the eye. Superb.

Walking in the Moonlight

After dinner, I did the gooseberry thing and joined Tom and Amy for a bit of a stroll, down towards Vathi itself - the town proper was about a mile away, around the bay. I took my camera, as I reckoned the combination of water, lights and the bay itself could give me some lovely black and white shots, using available light of course.

The first people we bumped into were the American couple. Still cannot remember their names. Then we found Ian and Nancy, who’d had a rather pleasant meal out.

Shortly after that, Tom and Amy headed back. Amy had cracked her knee during the storm - she’d falling down the steps on the boat - and was feeling a bit tender. I continued, and proceeded to bump into most of the flotilla, including (as always) John and Sheena.

I meandered around the rather pretty town, taking a fair few shots. I’m looking forward to getting them back from the developer - hopefully, there’ll be one or two lovely shots out of the lot. Available light, largely handheld, in the dark…not really a recipe for success!

Eventually, I started heading back. And that’s when I realised that I could no longer see the stars. It had also got a bit humid. I quickened my step somewhat. All through the evening, there’d been flashes of lightning over the far hills, accompanied by rolls of thunder. It was all getting closer.

200 yards before I got back to the Knight Oddity, it started raining. 50 yards, and it was really raining. I got back to find Tom (I think) closing the hatches. Just after I got back into my cabin, it started pelting down. Close.

Anyway, I think that’s quite enough writing for today. Hopefully, I’ll get some photos up at some point. Just one more thing…

Speling

The Greeks are, of course, armed with a highly non-standard alphabet. Okay, so some would argue that it’s perhaps the standard (Western) alphabet…but they clearly haven’t moved into the Century of the Fruitbat yet.

This does not make my life easy. The declensions don’t help.

For example, is it Lefkas, or Lefkada, or just Bob? Kefalonia is even worse, with all combinations of [K/C]e[f/ph]a[l/ll]onia seemingly valid. I have my spellings, and I’m sticking to them. Unless some in the know informs me otherwise

What was interesting was that, towards the end of the week, I reckoned I was transliterating stuff pretty well, with a feel for the character set. Several years of science and engineering helps, mind, as does a couple of weeks of (Ancient) Greek lessons.