Spilia Bay -> Vlikho -> Igoumenitsa

Morning in Spilia Bay. Ooooh Logariasmos. Can't get that tune out of my head.

Breakfast "chez nous" with the crew of Kerguelen. Orange juice, bread, jam, yoghurt with honey, and fruit salad! We all walk up the (steep!) hill to Spartakhori, the town on the hillside above the harbour. There is a lookout point with beautiful views over the bay, and the islands beyond. We walk through the town, and follow a road out of town for a bit, but it's getting late so we head back. It would be so nice to be able to spend another day here. I have visions of Dan being sent out to bring us back to Vlikho by force!

Eileen gets a quick dip at a beach on the way back to the boat. The water looks beautiful, but a bit chilly. The rest of us are too chicken!

Pack and clean up boat. Laurent dons his wet suit and snorkelling gear, and dives in for a look at his hull. Takes a look at ours while he is at it and sees a plastic bag around the prop. Would we like him to remove it? Yes please! Hélène throws him a big ugly-looking knife and he reappears a few moments later with a handful of shredded blue plastic bag. Thanks Laurent! 

Time to go. Tears all round. Laura takes the helm and steers us out of the bay while we store fenders and tidy up. We motor the few miles to Vlikho. There is not much wind, and we have to get the boat back. Our taxi is booked for 16:00. 

We call Sail Ionian on the VHF to let them know we are coming, and more importantly to make a space on the quay for us. "Rodney, Rodney, Rodney. This is yacht Mojito, yacht Mojito, yacht Mojito ..." No reply. As we get nearer, we see somebody waving to us, pointing to a space on the quay. Whew! For our final manoeuvre, we manage a near perfect stern-to. Just needed to let out a bit of chain to get closer to the quay. We go to the office, and Di and Linda are there to help us take care of the final paperwork. We thank them for everything, mention that there was no teapot on the boat, and leave a six-pack of Mythos for Dan.

Taxi from Vlikho to Igoumenitsa. It's the same ex-Formula 1 driver. Sitting in the back of the car I feel stiff, bruised, and battered. And tired. Very tired. But happy, and very proud of my crew. A well-deserved hearty slap on the back for both of you!

In the taxi we realize that we left the sailing gloves, hats, and most importantly Laura's camera in the cockpit table locker. Oops, forgot to look in there.

Ferry port in Igoumenitsa. The ticket office is actually in the ferry terminal! But where do we go to board the ship? "Out that door and 100 metres to the right", says the lady behind the desk. We go out the door to find a huge dock covered with cars and motorbikes and semi-trailer trucks. Dodging cars and trucks we eventually find the quay where our ferry will arrive. Foot passengers are definitely an afterthought in the ferry business!

Log entry for Friday, 30/04/2010

Fuel: Full

Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.6; 2 (domestic) = 12

Water: 1/2

Engine check: OK (visual)

Bilge: 1/2 cup

Baro: 998 @ 12:45

From: Port Spilia, Meganisi; Log 9054.0 @ 13:30

Towards: Vlikho, Lefkada; Log 9059.8 @ 15:15

Port Kalamos -> Spilia Bay

Morning in Port Kalamos. I wake up before the others, so I go above and sit in the cockpit to watch the sunrise. A few small fishing boats enter the harbour. A small passenger ferry goes out, headed for the mainland. These villages are still largely fishing villages, even though the visiting leisure yachts are competing for more and more space. It's good to see fishing still done on a human scale. No factory trawlers here. 

There are piles of fishing nets here and there on the quay, and one pile happens to be directly behind our boat. Soon a fisherman comes to the pile and starts checking over the net. When he arrives, he nods and says "morning" in English. I've been looking up at the caves on the hill above the harbor, and figure I'll ask him about them. It turns out that "morning" is about as far as his English goes. But he does manage to explain that the main cave goes straight back. And there is another cave next to it that goes many, many metres in, then many, many, many metres down, then many, many, many, many metres in to the mountain! I still don't know if they are natural caves or mines.

He goes back to his net, dragging an end from the existing pile and making a new pile 20 feet away. As he checks the net, the old pile gets smaller and the new pile gets bigger. Eventually there is only the new pile left. Eileen and Laura are up, and we have breakfast on the boat. The holding tank is full again, so we are going to have to go to a taverna for a coffee and use of the facilities. After a leisurely Greek coffee, we decide to stroll around the harbour. 

When we get to the other side of the harbour, we see George running out from his taverna. He grabs a long spear-like thing and stalks the edge of the water. We sneak up closer for a better look. George is perfectly still. So are we. Then, suddenly, he strikes. When he brings the spear out of the water, there is a wriggling octopus on the end! George explains that it now has to be beaten 100 times on the concrete quay to tenderize it. We figure we can guess what tonight's special is going to be.

We walk up the (steep) hill to the bakery. When we get there, it's closed. A man sitting on the veranda across the street sees us and says "wait! wait!". He goes and finds the old woman who runs the bakery. Oops, sorry for interrupting your siesta. We buy bread, and a selection of nice looking cookies and pastries.

We head back towards the quay, and passing George's we ask directions to the post office. We have 3 postcards but only 2 stamps. George says we're too late, it's already closed. But we can leave him the cards and he will take care of it. We do. Will he? Probably. 

We head for Spartakhori in the afternoon, motoring out of the harbour. As we pass the end of the island, suddenly there is wind! We hit speeds over 7 knots with full main and genoa, in 15 - 20 knots of wind. Things are getting a bit twitchy, and we reef twice along the way. Eileen is a bit uneasy in these winds, and we should have reefed sooner. The crap winch handle keeps jamming in the winch and is going to be tossed overboard! 

According to the pilot book, the moorings in Spilia Bay use lazy lines. A lazy line is a rope that is permanently attached to the sea bed and means that you don't need to use your anchor. Although it is easier than anchoring, in theory, it is our first time. The book also says that you should never listen to anyone on the quay. There is a strong wind blowing into the bay. We take down our sails and motor in slowly. Laura takes the helm, while we put out fenders and stern mooring lines, and move the dingy to amidships. 

We go in for a look at our chosen spot. Suddenly people appear on the quay, and start shouting. "You are too close!" "Back off!" "Back off!" Me: "Relax, will you!". Then someone else shouts "I want you to put your dinghy on the other side!". "I want you to put your dinghy on the other side!". Why does he want me to put my dinghy on the other side? Who is he? Should we listen to him? "I WANT YOU TO PUT YOUR DINGHY ON THE OTHER SIDE!!!". 

He sounds more authoritative than the other people yelling from the quay. He also sounds like he might know what he is talking about, so maybe we better listen. I go forward and try to move the dinghy to the other (windward) side, but there is too much wind and I can't get it around the bows. Too bad, we're going in as we are. We get up to speed in reverse. When we get close enough, Eileen takes the lazy line forward with the boathook and I throw our stern lines to the man on the quay. As I go forward to attach the lazy line the dinghy gets in the way. "Now you understand why I want you to put your dinghy on the other side?". Fair enough. All in all, it went pretty well, maybe just a bit too much speed going astern. 

As we tidy up the boat, we notice a little girl on a boat two doors up. She disappears, then returns a moment later with her doudou, who then peeks over the coamings at us. Laura swiftly disappears below deck and returns with Kitty who peeks back. A few minutes later I ask where's Laura. Eileen says she is aboard the neighbouring boat playing with her new friend! 

It turns out that they are a French family, doing an 8-month tour of the Med in a 32-foot boat "Kerguelen". Laurent, Hélène and Romane invite us for a drink and we willingly oblige bringing with us a bottle of wine and some olives. OK, so it was the complimentary bottle of wine from Sail Ionian, so what! It was actually pretty good, and we had a lovely time on their boat listening to stories about their journey so far. According to Laurent, the only time they have had any problems is when they listened to people on the quay!

It's getting very late and we must get some dinner. Before parting, we invite the crew of Kerguelen for breakfast aboard Mojito. 

To keep our end of the bargain we head for the taverna owned by the man who shouted the loudest. He is closing up, about to go home. "Why are you so late?", he asks. "I have nothing left, the oven is off and my staff has gone home". Crap. Couldn't you just heat up something quickly in the microwave? Some leftovers maybe? He has a change of heart and decides to turn the oven back on. He will cook for us himself. He brings wine from his own vines. We eat well, the only ones in an open quay-side restaurant that could easily hold a hundred people. 

Back to the boat. Duck. BUMP! Ouch.

Log entry for Thursday, 29/04/2010

Fuel: Full

Batteries: 1 (engine) = 12.6; 2 (domestic) = 12.1

Water: 1/2, added jerry can of water from Georges

Engine check: OK (visual)

Bilge: 1/4 cup +

Baro: 999 @ 12:10

From: Port Kalamos, Kalamos; Log 9036.0 @ 15:30

Towards: Port Spilia, Meganisi; Log 9054.0 @ 19:30

Little Vathi -> Sivota

A lazy Saturday morning in Little Vathi. Breakfast in the cockpit. Dan arrives around 10:00 AM. We prepare the boat, and head out towards a nearby cupcake-shaped island to do some anchoring practice. We take turns helming and raising and lowering the anchor. Dan explains that the beautiful turquoise-blue colour is a sign of danger, because it means shallow water.

Then we head around to Abelike Bay to try long-lining. Dan and I stay on the boat to set the anchor while Eileen and Laura take a line ashore in the dinghy. We set the anchor and start backing towards them, but they are fiddling with the line around the tree. Five minutes later and they still don't have a bowline around the tree! Eventually they manage to tie some kind of a knot and bring the line out in the dinghy.

Eileen and I sample a drop of ouzo while Dan and Laura take the dinghy to a nearby beach.

Dan and Laura return to the boat, and we have a bite of lunch. Dan starts telling us about how much he loves the fresh-cooked squid in Greece. Laura is grossed out and the word "squid" is banned. Dan continues talking about how much he loves fresh-cooked "thing".


Dan keeps teasing Laura, and Laura says to him "I know why you tease me all the time. It's because your name is Dan. I have an uncle named Dan and he teases me all the time too!"

We sail and motor to Sivota, back on the island of Lefkada. This is to be a familiar pattern, as the winds are very flukey here. One minute you are flying along in 15 knots of wind, the next minute nothing. Furl the sails, motor on. Then wind! Quick, cut the engine, hoist the sails! Then motor.

Along the way Dan and Laura are scheming to surprise us with a "man overboard" when we least expect it. Dan plays his part by pointing out "the bat cave over there" to get us distracted, but Laura gives the game away by smiling and giggling instead of heaving the fender overboard.

We do a practice stern-to in Sivota. Dan jumps off to watch us do the real thing from the shore, by ourselves. We make a perfect approach and he takes our stern lines, but when we take up some chain we find the anchor isn't holding. We try again, it doesn't hold. Try again with more chain. Chain runs out. Lashing breaks. Anchor and 50 metres of chain are now lying on the bottom in 3m of water. Dan to the rescue! Apparently the water was a bit cold. Thanks Dan.


We take a stroll around the town. People are busy painting and cleaning and repairing, getting ready for the imminent tourist invasion. We ask at the taverna directly behind our boat if they are open, and if they have food. They are, and they do. I have meatballs laced in garlic. Eileen want's to know if Dan is right and orders "thing". One of them sneaks it's way onto Laura's plate of chips. Luckily the offending piece of squi-, I mean "thing", is discovered and removed in time! We have a lovely dinner, and cheap too! 


Back to the boat for the night. Which smells worse, mosquito spray or garlic breath?

Vlikho -> Little Vathi

Dan is eager to get on the water, and he starts us off easy with some motoring practice in Vlikho bay. Forward, reverse, tight turns, etc. Then we set sail for Little Vathi on the neighbouring island of Meganisi, where we will spend our first night aboard. 


We do several "man overboard" practices along the way. It consists of throwing a boat fender weighted down with ropes over the side and then going back to recover it. It's good fun and everybody gets involved. When we arrive in Vathi we do some stern-to mooring practice, and Laura and Eileen do a bit of knot-tying. Clove hitchs, round turn and two half-hitches, bowlines.

We are pretty exhausted from our long journey with sleepless nights, so we are glad when Dan helps get us moored up safely for the night and heads back to Vlikho. We have the entire evening to relax and explore the village, then go for dinner.

We take a walk around the tiny village and discover hundred year old olive trees, with huge gnarled and twisted trunks, wild flowers, and clear turquoise-blue water. On the way back we chat with the couple in the boat next to ours, who are live-aboards and have been in Greece for 2 years now. They tell us how it still surprises them to see a local pull up to the mini-market on a scooter, leave the scooter with keys in and bags of shopping attached while they run in for a few more things, and come back to find everything just as they left it. It's true that in many parts of the world you would come back to an empty parking spot.

It's early in the season, so there isn't much choice of restaurants. There are several tavernas on the quay, but only two are open. The nearest one has a bunch of locals around a table, which is usually a good sign. We choose a table near the water's edge, and a waiter comes over to take our order. When he hears our English, he just grunts and disappears. We are not quite sure what to do next. Did we insult him? Is this a Greek thing? 


A minute or two later an elderly woman (his mother?) comes to take our order. She has a few words of English. She says "We have Greek salad and omelette". OK, we'll have Greek salad and omelette! The food is simple but the portions are generous and the ingredients are absolutely fresh and the taste is wonderful. The salad has a huge slab of feta cheese on top, drenched in olive oil. Underneath are tomatoes, green pepper, olives. The onions are especially powerful. 

These islands are filled with cats. We have seen stray cats of all shapes, sizes and colours and Laura loves cats. They tend to swarm around the tavernas at night, hoping for a handout or some leftover scraps. Laura soon discovers that some of them can be unfriendly, as she is scratched by a cat who was probably expecting food and didn't get any. There are a few tears, but she is probably more shocked and disappointed than hurt. She will be more circumspect regarding cats in the future.

Back on the boat to prepare beds, brush teeth and change into pyjamas. The headroom varies all over the boat, and there are bits sticking out everywhere. Bump, ouch! I'm sure we'll get used to it eventually.

We settle into our bunks, and listen to the strange noises. Snap, crackle, pop. According to the Sail Ionian documentation, that is the sound of small fish eating crustaceans off the hull of the boat. Whatever it is, it is much more relaxing than vibrating light fixtures, and everyone sleeps like a baby, until ...

The mosquito.