The sculpture commemorates resistance fighters
We are waiting for the high winds forecast from Saturday through Tuesday to dissipate. So far there is little sign of them occurring, but one French boat has tied himself to the quayside using a cat's cradle of rope.
Jim and Cathy have a hire car for three days, and very kindly offered to take us around the island yesterday. We had refused because the generator needed to be fixed. The next day, however, they offered a trip to a pleasant beach they had found south of the town. Mo is not so good on beaches, so we accepted a lift into town on their way instead. We meandered around the town. It is very much a working town and harbour, with few concessions to tourists. The harbour front bars might be an exception, but were populated by local youngsters, rather than foreigners. The old Turkish town, behind the sea front, is a maze of one way streets some of which have been 'pedestrianised'. This did not prevent Jim, who drove with great confidence and panache, from taking a wrong turning somehow so that he found himself competing with the pedestrians for space.
When our thirst and stomachs indicated we returned to the harbour front, and found a delightful restaurant upstairs off the street, with balconies overlooking the harbour. It was decorated with old memorabilia (a gent with a plate camera, a Singer sewing machine just like the one Mum used to have, etc.) and the wooden ceilings were supported by a network of giant beams that somehow met in the centre. A bored chap was sitting on the stairs, but he assured us they were open. We chose a couple of dishes each, a salad each, Mo choosing fried courgette and I a grilled local cheese. We left full, and only just over 20€ the poorer.
We walked back to the 'marina', which is some way north of the town, choosing a pretty devious path. We wanted to find the mosque, as we had seen an old minarette above the the roofline. This caused us to walk in circles until we eventually spotted it: the building underneath was covered in scaffolding. On the way out of town, we managed to get ourselves within the walls of the old castle, then had to retrace our steps as there was no way down. In this area we found some 'beehive' buildings that were being restored at great expense to the European Union. On the shore a little further north, there is a row of old mills in seemingly good condition, and behind them some buildings that must have been old warehouses. Near them there is a Eurospar supermarket, so we returned to the boat laden with essentials.
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| Khios harbour is busy. The sculpture commemorates resistance fighters | This (18/19thC) gent sits outside a church |
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| Another project funded by the EU to 650K€ | The 'marina' glimpsed through old mills |
The next day, Jim and Cathy proposed a trip to Lidl before returning the car. They had already been once, so it was largely for our benefit that we went. On the way back we diverted around some narrow roads through old fruit orchards surrounded by old redish brown stone walls. Some of the magnificent large houses, many built in the local stone, have been restored: others lie in ruins. It was easy to see why scooters are the most popular form of transport. That evening, Jim and Cathy joined us for supper on board Fuga.
One of the cockpit floor gratings, carefully re-assembled about two years ago, was falling apart at the edges, so much of the next day was spent cleaning up the wood, and re-glueing. Unfortunately the 'clamps' of string and screwdrivers or chisels did not keep one edge flat in position, so now you step on the edge and the grating lifts irritatingly. No doubt it will fall apart again in a year or two.
By now, the skipper was getting desperate to leave. It is rare indeed for Fuga to be static for 5 days! We had been picking up Grib files showing consistently windy patterns. We relied on our Turkcell mobile connection for this, as there was no wifi around. The Wind service is very expensive by comparison, but reception of Turkcell from across the water was just adequate for essentials. The forecast showed that the morning should be not too windy, so we decided to give it a try. As we left the 'marina', the entrance of which is a bit rock-strewn, shallow and hazardous, it was a bit bumpy. We made sail, putting in a reef, and put in a long tack across towards the Turkish coast, before tacking back to make the harbour. We found the wall full, and had made one unsuccessful attempt to get the anchor to hold through the weed, when Peter Nutt on Noisette called up on VHF to invite us alongside. Peter and Valerie were most hospitable, having felt guilty, they said, for taking up so much space alongside.
Oinousai is a delightful place. The harbour front boasts a number of statues of some of the prominent ship owners who Rod tells us hailed from here. There is a large church in the centre of the village, a village store (and opposite this, down some steps on the left, a bakers), as well as several tavernas. We found wifi was freely available from the taverna opposite the quay. Some of the large houses in the village have sadly fallen into ruins. Nisos Mandraki, the uninhabited larger of the islands providing much of the natural shelter for the harbour, boasts no less than three churches.
The next morning I tried to get a Skype call going with Jacqui and her boys in New Zealand. Unfortunately our wifi aerial was not up to it, so we ended up typing messages to each other, and then someone must have turned the router off. We set off to find the bakers, but got hopelessly distracted in our exploration. We found ourselves walking (encouraged by Peter's story of walking around the island on a previous occasion), although inadequately shod and unprepared. Fortunately the petrol station, 1.5km out of town, had some bottled water, and this enabled us to complete a large circle via the north coast and back down to the village. Rod suggests it is a barren island, but it is not as barren as some. There is evidence of farming at one time in dry stone walls and terraces. Towards the eastern end, there appeared to be a flatter fertile area (seen from the distance). Although short of water, the residents water their gardens, and it runs wastefully away down the street.
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| Precious water runs away down the narrow street | The magnificent central church, one of many |
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| Overlooking N. Mandraki island and harbour | The north coast of Oinousai, looking towards Turkey |
We decided to go for Lesbos, as the forecast appeared to be offering something from the west in the northerly winds, and this ought to have given us a reasonable fetch. Noisette was planning to depart at 0800 towards the south, so we were up early to let her out. We motored around the south of Oinoussa, and made sail as we entered the channel between it and Khios, and tried to sail. It was not to be. The wind dithered (mostly easterly) between E through N, and W, sometimes as little as F2. Meanwhile steep cross seas were running in every direction imaginable, heaping up lumps of water that stopped any semblance of progress and stability. It was most uncomfortable, and there was no alternative but to keep the engine running for much of the time. All this made us look for the first available shelter on the south side of Lesbos, rather than make for Mitilini as we had intended. We settled on the western of the two bays at the head of Ormos Mersinia, and anchored wihout difficulty in a patch of sand, off a beach with a few houses and a small boat harbour at one corner. We enjoyed a swim, and a quiet evening watching the few fishing boats come and go.
With her uncanny sense for trouble, Mo found that there was a leak under the heads basin, in what Mo calls her 'magic cupboard'. This is because of its ability to absorb a seemingly infinite supply of food and drink. This time she emerged with a soggy carton of what had been Tagliatelle, preventing the skipper from entering into his denial routine: 'there is no leak' (or any other problem, for that matter). The cupboard was emptied, then the tap was duly removed, re-assembled, and found still to leak. Fortunately we had bought two in Portugal: they were cheap and promised to fit, although Mo was not happy that she could get a bucket under, so the galley one had not been replaced. The replacement tap did not leak. This left us too late to move on, besides which we were enjoying the anchorage. Now on a roll, we had re-assembled the wind generator and had it hoisted in the rigging. We enjoyed a quiet evening, until bedtime, when the wind got up and began to gust. We did not measure them, but estimated afterwards that they were reaching 30-40 knots. At the same time, I began to experience pain that seemed to be indigestion, but having been down the heart attack routine the mind races and the symptoms get progressively worse! We let out another 10 metres of chain and hoped that Rod was wrong about bad holding! It was unbearably hot in the forepeak, and we retreated to the saloon where we could watch the lights swinging past the windows. Eventually the Rennies, soluble aspirin, followed by Zantac, and euphoria at simply being alive and the anchor still holding, kicked in and we got some sleep. Too much Greek white wine, perhaps.
By the time we had taken down and packed away the awning and wind generator, and had a last swim, it was 1100 hrs before we got away. The wind was gusting in the bay, and we kept a reef in and rolled jib. The wind was billed to be north easterly, but as usual kept us guessing, and the left over seas from the previous night stopped us making way. For a while we had to motor, but then the wind strenthened and we were able to sail, albeit south of our course. It was Mo who again spotted the twitch at the end of our sturdy little fishing rod, and we hove-to briefly while we reeled in a medium sized mackerel. Naturally as we turned north, the wind headed us, but later when it strenthened for a while to F5/6 we had to spill wind and were even able to give away a bit as we screamed towards Mitilini so fast that an overtaking motor cruiser had to alter to pass behind us. It didn't last, and I finished regretting giving the ground away, as headed once more with stopping seas we were forced to motor to keep ourselves off the beach.
We arrived in Mitilini, and made our way to the new 'marina', another superior but not quite finished production given to the Greek people by the European Union at a cost of 9.1M€. This one has empty marina offices, extensive car parks, and no doubt showers as well locked away. We berthed alongside a vacant space on the outer wall, although there are plenty of empty finger berths installed. We had been spotted, because a Coastguard came beetling along on a motor bike to see us: there is a big problem here with a illegal immigrants arriving from Turkey, so the authorities are particularly sharp. Hand Basket had suggested we might like it here. As they promised, the water was turned on in the evening to water the plants, so with some help with brass fittings taken from our spares locker we were able to connect up and fill Fuga's tanks.
The Port Authority offices are at towards the eastern end of the north side of the harbour, and so about as far distant from the marina as they could be. We walked past the little amphitheatre, past the empty marina offices and facilities (with grass planted on the roof), and skirted along the foreshore via a 'well worn path' as Jan from Eleni had described. There was a public car park between the road and the dockside, and we felt uneasy passing a lot of people who appeared to be living in and around vehicles. Once we reached the north harbour, the scene changed dramatically, with harbourside bars. When we found the office, bedecked with flags as usual, we had to ascend two flights of scruffy stairs. Enquiring at an open office door, we discovered we had hit the jackpot. The official was as dour as his surroundings, and was reluctant to stamp us either in or out. When he wanted us to return in the morning, Mo rapidly brought forward our departure time to 0700 hrs, so that he grudgingly entered us into his exit register. We had to fill in a crew list and declaration, but he did not seem interested in our paperwork otherwise. He was however keen to relieve us of 15€: looking at the receipt this seemed to be for 3 nights instead of 2.
By now I was hungry and thirsty, so wanted to stop at a bar. Everywhere there were cars and scooters rushing about, and the bars were noisy and not at all restful. We stopped at one, had a drink and a dry toasted sandwich, after which the young lady who served us tried very hard to short change us by 10€. We walked further in, encountering two impressive church buildings, and a pedestrian area predominantly containing clothes shops, but not predominantly tourist shops. Collecting a large supply of fruit and veg at Eurospar, we returned to the boat. The water supply was not turned on this evening, but Jan and David Pursell on Eleni joined us for a drink or two.
Although Mo had suggested to the Port Authority that we would be gone by 0700 hrs, it was in fact quite a bit later before she emerged from her bunk, and then only when lubricated by two cups of tea. We said goodbye to Eleni, and then went off to Eurospar to pick up one or two essentials that we had thought of. We returned to the boat and made ready. The wind was very light to start with, but we did not feel in too much of a hurry, and ate lunch as we ambled along. We decided to anchor off an island for the night: it just happened to be Turkish. We enjoyed some fish that we barbequed, as we watched the comings and goings of the goats, sheep, and three attendant farmers who occupied a shack on the island.