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| A sandbar divides O. Kolona from O. Fikhiada |
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| Mo and David looking on, Chris adjusts the stove |
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| Left to right: (Almost no) Right hand man Chris, (Boys) David (cook), Ian and Keith |
We set off for Olympic Marina in the morning. There was no wind at all to sail, so it was motoring all the way. Mo was in charge, as for much of the time I was nerding to use up the last hours of my prepaid internet 'slot'. We arrived at the marina, and went alongside to collect fuel. 155 litres at what proved to be a reasonable price. We then asked for water, and were directed to a 'large boat' berth nearby which was vacant. This proved to be free of charge, 500 litres of water cost us only 2, and we were able to use the washing machines. As reported in 2007, the hoses were still connected the wrong way round.
We left the marina, and motored up to Lavrion, a mile to the north. We found Kealoha without difficulty, and having made contact we returned to the small bay half way between the marina and Lavrion port. We had spotted a motor boat at anchor, and the bay looked worth investigating. We anchored in 4 metres, did what we had to, and set off in the dinghy to catch up with David and Chris on Kealoha. After a drink or two, we went ashore to find something to eat, which proved harder than we had expected. Back on board, we played a variant of liar dice and consumed perhaps a little too much Glenfidich. Somehow we managed to get back on board Fuga. (Sorry Carole).
The next morning we took the dinghy back into Lavrion to get some supplies. We called at Kealoha, who had changed berths to allow for the incoming charter fleet. They were wrestling with a computer printer problem, but I only managed to add to the confusion. Later that evening, David and Chris came out and had supper with us. The special wine we had bought (in a bottle, as opposed to a 5 litre box) proved to be a disaster, being nearer to a sweet port wine, rather than a table wine! Mo wasn't happy with her sauce either: she felt it was too sweet.
The forecast on Saturday was for F6, so we decided to stay put where we were, in our anchorage. It was probably blowing a F5 as we took the dinghy back into port for more supplies. Kealoha were busy replacing window seals: I'm glad we're not the only boat with leaking saloon windows, although our solution needs to be more radical. Mo found water in the bilges again, probably fresh, and probably from the recently filled water tanks. The repair of the split tank is obviously not working, although the leak is a lot slower. I spent the evening catching up with this log, Mo reading and doing Sudoku.
We were on the point of turning in, when the wind changed more westerly, and as we swung towards the rocks I concluded there was not sufficient clearance for comfort, particularly if the wind continued to veer, so Mo dressed again and we re-anchored nearer the centre of the bay.
We got up and as we ate breakfast Kealoha was first away, around 1000. I had woken in the early hours to the sound of fishermen working not far off our bow, and I was concerned that they had laid a net in our vicinity. We had no problem, however, retrieving our anchor and making for open water. As we emerged from the channel between the mainland and N. Makronisos, and came out from under the lee of Ak Sounio, we found the wind a lot stronger and had to drop a reef in. David radio'd from Kealoha to say that they were making for Ormos Kolona on Kithnos, a reasonable day sail away, which happened to be our aim too. As the day progressed, the wind backed towards the south, and we enjoyed a pleasant leisurely sail, but fishing without success. Kealoha was in fact anchored in the more sheltered Ormos Fikhiada, behind the island and sandbar. It is a delightful spot, with an interesting old church and dry stone walls on Nisos Ay Loukas itself. It looked well worth a longer visit. The 'boys' on Kealoha were sleeping off a lunch: they had 'knocked up' the taverna to find the family accomodating. They were only on the island to vote in the election that day. Later David invited us to a barbeque on the beach.
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Not to be outdone, we were first away in the morning. We skirted northwards under engine around Kithnos, and then made an easterly course towards Nisos Siros under sail. The winds were light, northerly F3, but died away altogether for a while. We found that we were batting against an adverse current that varied between 1 and almost 2 knots, so we had to motor. We imagined that we could see Kealoha heading eastwards from south about Kithnos, but this proved to be our imagination, as it emerged later that they had headed south to Serifos. When the winds returned they quickly built to F4/5 and we put a reef in for the last stretch into the sheltered bay at Finikas. We dropped anchor just off the moorings. I was pleasantly surprised to pick up a weak but very fast wifi internet connection, so was able to catch up with the Poseidon forecasts, although US Grib was giving me grief and not allowing me to sign on.
Overnight there had been periods of quite strong winds, but by morning it was fairly calm. The Poseidon forecasts showed stronger winds east of the chain of islands, from Evia, Andros, Tinos and Mikonos, but between us and Mikinos there was a more sheltered area showing only F4 and F5 at the fringes. As we would be in the lee of Siros to start with, and later in the lee of Nisos Rinia and Dhilos, we decided that we had probably seen the worst of the meltemi weather, and so could take a chance on it. As events turned out this was not so wise, especially given the old US Grib forecast that we had from Sunday.
We ran out of the bay under jib, and as we rounded Ak Velostasi, at the southern end of Siros, we hoisted the reefed main. We immediately came under the influence of some severe gusts coming down off the mountain, so rather than benefit from shelter we found it quite difficult to get the boat set up and balanced to fetch the reaching course we wanted. Matters were complicated by a large cargo vessel, Santa Ana from Panama. She appeared stationery, but no chain was visible, nor at a distance a ball. We assumed she was loitering in the lee. The AIS on Winchart was not operating (it seems to lose its comms channel set up), but we got Navmon up, and she was not transmitting any AIS. We decided to play cautious, so ran off behind her with some difficulty, and when we were close we spotted the size of ball that you might have on a small yacht. I tried calling her, but was not surprised to receive no response, as I had heard her name being called repeatedly the day before. The wind and seas slowly built, and we progressed from one to two reefs, and when the wind hit F7 we managed to get the main down. We were pleased to come under the lee of the offlying islands, then had to motor the final 4 miles up to Ormos Ornos.
We were not home, let alone dry. Rod suggests that the holding is poor in places, and we can confirm that in the places we dropped, it was very poor. There were a number of boats anchored, moorings, and the wind was gusting through the bay making Fuga very difficult to handle. After five or six attempts, we settled down and I had a shower to warm up, and a cup of tea and a sandwich. The main was flapping so I decided to put it away properly, and on going up into the cockpit realised we had dragged yet again. We tried once more unsuccessfully, Mo noting that it was blowing F8, before copying another yacht, anchoring around the corner to the west, on sand, close in under the lee of a hill. This was much quieter, and at last the anchor held there.
The wind died down a little during the evening, but came up again overnight, so in the end we set Navmon to do the anchor watch for us, after which we were better able to get some sleep.
The northerly winds continued to blow. We were relatively sheltered under our hill, to the west of the main part of the bay. White horses screamed out of the bay some 50 metres away, while we were in calm water. Another yacht had anchored just before us, and had put out his kedge. A party went ashore, but two chaps (maybe) remained on board. We did not feel like risking a trip ashore, and the dinghy ride in would be very wet.
Mo busied herself in the galley, and made some soup and some 'rat', read a bit and did some soduko. Meantime I read for a while, tried to get some sleep, and later spent time on the internet.
It seemed to be blowing almost as hard the next morning. The next door yacht departed, revealing four couples on board. It seemed we had only seen about 5 people altogether previously! We laid our kedge out so that we were mainly lying to that. The bower anchor had managed to stay put two days, so we felt we could rely on the combination and could afford to go ashore. We took the dinghy ashore where we found a large pole chained to a rock just above the water level, that provided a secure mooring for the dinghy and enabled us to get ashore dry. A concrete road, probably laid for future development, led up between dry stone walls to the road above. We disturbed a flock of sheep sheltering from the sun behind the walls, and climbed over the gate. The road ran over the hill, and at one point we took a path that led between small villas, before rejoining the road through the village. We took the road which skirted around the shore of the opposing bay towards the hora, some two miles of undulating road leaning into the fresh wind, making the walking tiring.
When we got to Mikinos, we found the picturesque line of windmills and walked along the 'front', working our way around to the old harbour. A Behamas cruise ship (aptly named Costa Fortuna) was docked in the new 'marina' to the north, and her tenders were disgorging Americans. The prices in the tavernas were predictably on the high side, and we settled for a snack bar where we had a drink and a plate of kebabs and pork from the gyro: it still set us back 28 euros. The alley ways with boutique shops, the paving stones picked out in white paint, were pretty, and you could spend hours wandering through the maze. We walked back, and were pleased at last to get back to the dinghy, where we found an amply-endowed male of the species reclined on the rock behind which it was moored.
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| Mikinos beach | Pavement tavernas everywhere | The old mills on the skyline |
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| The harbour | Mo shopping, she wished.. | A maze of alleys to explore |
The night had passed more peacefully. Another yacht had come in during the evening before and anchored nearby, but had left early in the morning. I had re-registered for US Grib and so managed to get a forecast, and checking on Poseidon, we could expect northerly 4. We recovered the kedge, and then the dinghy, and prepared to go. Meanwhile, white horses raced down the bay nearby. Perhaps I made an assumption that everything would be ok. We set off and started out of the bay, blown by the wind. The wind speed seemed still to be in the F6/7 range, with gusts, and I wondered whether the funnel effect of the bay behind us was causing the forecast to be wrong! By the time we had thought about it, wondering whether to turn around, we were too late. We did in fact turn, but were making less than a knot under engine against the wind and sea. We had been in touch with Kealoha: she was also on Paros, where David said that it was blowing F5. We set a small amount of jib, and turned downwind onto our course, making up to 6 knots. Gradually the wind did die down, and the seas improved, but it was never going to be a pleasant sail in the circumstances. The shelter in Marmara was not ideal, and the shallowness of the bay forced us to anchor further out than we had hoped. Never the less, we spent a reasonably comfortable night there.
The wind had dropped, but was still blowing from the north, backing fitfully from NNE to NNW. We set out with the objective of making for the western coast of Ios, but as the wind backed we changed our minds and decided to go around the east to the anchorage in Ormos Manganari, on the south coast. As we rounded the Varvaronisi rock on the south eastern corner, the wind fell light, and came in from the south west. We were not sure whether this was coincidence or geography, but anchored all the same. When it became clear, just as dusk was approaching, that the wind was set for the night, and meant that we were in a less than ideal anchorage, we quickly changed our minds and motored smartly back around the rock to the anchorage about a mile to the north, Ormos Tres Klises. We dropped anchor clear of the reef in the western part of the harbour, and spent a very quiet night there. There are just two villas: one with road access and the other without any obvious approach, each with a beach nearby and in a dramatic setting.