Ever since I lost my glasses while working at the masthead in Bilbao harbour, Cyprus had been the final objective for our cruising, in the Mediterranean at least. The reason for this was that I had obtained the glasses while on a business trip to Nicosia in 2001, the price quoted for a replacement pair in Portugal had been more than twice as much! Since then I had suffered the vagaries of Vision Express in the UK, and it seemed a worthy end point. George, the owner of Pilides Eyeland did not disappoint!
I decided against taking the 'shared taxi' to Lefkosia (Nicosia) because we had been ripped off on our first journey (misunderstanding the price, and paying double 22TL instead of 11TL for the two of us), and the tour around the town dropping people off had been tedious. The only problem we had not been able to determine where the dolmus stopped, nor could I find the approximate place. I ended up walking to the roundabout at the outskirts of Girne, where it stopped for sure! I wasn't quick enough, as when the bus arrived it was nearly full, and I almost got killed in the panic to board. I was last on, and there was nowhere to sit, but the driver let me stay. It proved to be a bargain at only 3.50TL. So I collected my glasses, chatting to George for a while, then back over to Kusey Kibris again: more stamps on my landing slip, and a well deserved EFES under a tree before catching the bus back. More competition for seats, and I let the first bus go.
After lunch it was a case of tidying up, and loading with water, then over to the fuel berth to load with diesel. Diesel is particularly good value at 1.70TL per litre. After settling with the marina, who volunteered 5% discount for Cruising Association membership, they obtained harbour clearance. We then had to both go with the guard/marineiro to see the immigration/port police while they processed us through the computer. They apparently thought I might leave Mo behind!
When we got back to the boat we checked the bilges. The marinas's strange way of delivering 'pressurised' water and charging by the 10 minutes had taken its toll. When the initial trickle emerged from the hose, we thought that was as good as it got. The marineiro must have switched on the pump, because our daisy-chained tanks could not process the water, and pressure had built up. This was how the water man at Levkas had blown our tank in the first place, and I have now had four attempts at repairing it: obviously without success as the bilges were awash. Before we could set off, we had to pump them out, and being a flat bottomed boat this meant the usual slow process with small electric pump followed by sponge and bucket. It was 1745 before we got away.
The wind, of course, was not what we would have ordered. It was a westerly F4, sometimes F5, and our required course was due west! We tacked out to the north, with one reef in the sail and some rolls in the jib. After supper, which Mo had pre-prepared and I served, I took first watch, giving Mo the dog watch. The wind backed first to WSW and then to SSW, and decreased, enabling us to come onto our correct course. By early morning it dies away, and there was no alternative but to motor for the rest of the day, as what breeze there was circled around. Cyprus Radio had warned of moderate seas, and nasty lumpy conditions persisted most of the day, with the remnants of a south westerly swell crossing a south easterly one, and something left over from the wind we had. Gradually it died away.
During the day we had some visitors, first a sparrow, and then a small chaffinch like bird. What they were doing so far out to sea I do not know, but they should send their GPS back. We also had quite a large pod of dolphins. They did not stay long, but one or two were jumping high out of the water. Oh, and Mo had a bee join her for a while.
Just before supper we had a fish strike. We were using a large lure that Mike had brought back from Australia. It had proven quite successful at the end of last season. The first four offerings of the day had been various bits of plastic bag and sheeting, but this was something altogether different. It did not resist being wound in, but kept deep. I was concerned it would try to dive under the boat, and should with hindsight have played it to wear it out. It was a large, magnificent looking tuna, and would have kept us fed for weeks. Unfortunately when it spotted me it took off with a rush, and the first time I was quick enough to release the line. The second time I wasn't. Rob had told me leaving the reel out in the open would spoil the line, and maybe it had weakened the trace, because it broke. Sadly the fish took off trailing the lure and a lead weight, so had probably not saved its own life as well as depriving me of some barbeque meat.
Having alternated with 3 hour watches, we now swapped watches by dint of sharing happy hour, although Mo was on the orange and lemonade. Supper was bolognaise sauce with pasta, again pre-prepared by Mo and served by yours truly. We had made the decision that as we fairly well north, and there was no prospect of a fair wind, that we would head for Kekova Roads and wait there for an opportune moment to depart for Crete. At around 2300 Mo set the jib, and the engine went off for the first time since before midday.
The F3 wind lasted for the rest of the night, but faded at dawn, and the engine had to come on again. We motored on, until about an hour out from Kekova a breeze came up which meant that we could almost fetch the course. We were able to finish in style! We motored up the roads, and into the lagoon off Ucagiz, where we anchored beyond everyone, and with loads of room. Once we had had lunch, we turned in for some sleep.
Around 1600 hours we were both fast asleep when there was persistent calling from the stern. Having come too and realised that it was May from Pandora, we were surprised and delighted when she asked us to join them for a meal the following night. The family were all out visiting, as it was Anders' 60th birthday. I had no idea he was such a baby! I had sent an e-mail that morning, which they had not picked up, so it was simply luck that they came by in the afternoon and had seen us. I had a go at diving to clear the log impeller, as it had been consistently under reading by around 20 percent. Afterwards, I started on a watercolour of the castle. Mo had wondered on the way in if it would make a good subject to try to paint. By the time I turned in I had the makings of a passable painting, with Pandora, Anders and May's boat, featuring prominently in the foreground.
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| Kale Koy, painted for Anders' 60th birthday |
Mo decided she would pick out some photos for the birthday, so this required a little support as she found her way around Videowave, with the machine crashing periodically. It was slightly frustrating. I finished off the painting, and had a couple of forays at cleaning the bottom, using my new weight belt with 1kg on it which helped to sink me, and made the job a bit easier. There is still more to do, and the antifoul on the waterline at the bow has eroded away. We made it to the celebration, which was even bigger than we had expected. In addition to us and the family, May had invited Turkish friends with their children that they had made in Finike. The alarm is now set for an 0500 start in the morning, so that hopefully we can get to Kasos ahead of some dubious weather coming in on Saturday afternoon and evening.
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| It's time to blow out the candles |
We rose to the alarm, and had recovered the dinghy and outboard, and set off from our anchorage shortly after 0600hrs. We were pleased to see that the scrubbing under the bow had got the log working properly again. A light breeze soon came up, earlier than we had expected, but from a WSW direction (we required to make 250). We had hoped for WNW at least, possibly NW. We continued slightly north of west along the Turkish coast, but outside the passing commercial traffic, thinking that this would stand us in good stead when the wind veered. Its only real benefit was that I was able to use my remaining internet connection credit! The wind did eventually veer westerly, and we tacked south, but that was as good as it got. As forecast it dropped out late in the evening, and we were forced to motor. We had wasted a bit too much time trying to sail, and were conscious that we only had a limited weather window.
The next morning, the wind started to build as expected from the SE, mainly very light at first, but had got to F3 by 0900 hrs. It wasn't quite enough, although occasionally there was bit more puff. Visibility was not very good, but eventually the two islands appeared out of the haze, first Karpathos, and then eventually Kasos. Life on board was fairly relaxed, and as we approached Ak Kastellos at the southern end of Karpathos, we permitted ourselves a celebratory drink. An hour later, as we approached the northern end of Kasos, we had to put in a reef as the wind was building, and Fuga was getting a little skittish and difficult to control. It was fortunate that we did, for as we rounded the corner for the last 4/5 miles up to Fri, close in the lee of the mountainous coast the wind built rapidly through F7 to F8, gusting F9! It was a case of dropping the main asap and trying to get it bagged and under control.
We were blown down to Fri, but the harbour arrangements did not feature on our reasonably up to date C-Map, and we were reliant on the pilot guide. The old harbour of Limin Kasou looked narrow and possibly had limited room inside it, and in the conditions where we could barely control the boat with F8/9 gusts, I did not fancy entering the new and seemingly small harbour at Fri. I could only envisage damage to ourselves and possibly others. We accordingly anchored at the head of the bay, east of the ferry quay, and were once more delighted that the re-instated Bruce struck first time. The arrival of the wind had pretty much co-incided with the timing of the forecast Grib files, and we hoped for a reduction in the wind from around 2100 hrs.
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| Limin Kasou has a narrow entrance and limited room |
We had eaten supper and had begun to relax a bit, when Mo noticed headlights being flashed at us from the quay. I tried ignoring them, but failed. It was useless shouting, although I heard 'ship'. Eventually we realised that the VHF volume had been turned right down to avoid disturbing the off watch crew while we had our repeater in the cockpit. A ferry was due in 10/15 minutes, and please would we move? It was still blowing F7. In the dark, in a hurry, with the navigation systems shut down, the radar off, and 50 metres of anchor chain out! We got under way eventually, and Mo did her best to answer the conflicting orders from the helm. We had sighted the large ferry on its way, but lost sight of it while we were getting the anchor in. Delaying in a corner of the bay, we managed to touch bottom, then set off out of the harbour. There is a new breakwater being built, which is as yet unlit, and a shoal patch (obstruction) off a bluff not far east of the harbour. There was no moon, or shore lighting to guide us. Further east, we knew, was an isolated rock and obstruction. By this time, there was no sight of the ferry, which presumably had decided there were no takers to get on or off, and had gone off to Karpathos! While all this was happening, the wind began to moderate. We turned around to go back in, but I decided to have a shot at the old harbour, Limin Kasou. The breakwater is lit Fl G to starboard, but to port (we saw in the morning) is a reef. We made it in, and on the second attempt dropped our anchor on the south side of the harbour, and backed up as close to the quay on the north as we felt prudent. We launched the dinghy and took a long line ashore. At least we could go to bed confident that we were not going anywhere!
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| The breakwater at Fri is being extended to the east | Overlooking Fri harbour |
We took a walk down to the village with ships papers and passport. There was no sign of any Port Police or Customs. We had a look at the harbour, and decided that with the increasing westerly winds expected, we would be better off there. There was room alongside on the south-facing wall. Another yacht reported that they had had an uncomfortable time getting in and securing alongside in the gale force conditions, so our decision to anchor had probably been correct. However, with the wind in the west, Limin Kasou was already getting a bit uncomfortable, although safe enough. We decided to move.
We had already discovered that there was an unsecured wifi operating from the local bar, and had been able to pick it up sporadically from Limin Kasou, as well as in the adjacent bay. Now we were even closer!
The winds remained in the west and continued mostly to be quite strong, with the occasional brief remission. The grib files showed a reduction in the wind strenth, and a veer to the north, overnight on Tuesday and on Wednesday, so there was nothing for it but to stay put. We spent the day on the boat on Monday. Mo decided to clean the deck, that had been covered with dirty rain in a brief episode on Saturday evening. In support of this effort, I went into the cockpit locker to find some rubbing compound/polish. Whilst doing so I tried to find some copper pipe, fancying trying to improve the SSB connection to the backstay. In the process I broke a vane off the ventilation fan for the freezer compartment, so had to repair that instead.
On Tuesday we loaded water and attended to some other jobs. We did eventually get off the boat, and walked along to the 'airport' and back through the town, happening upon a greengrocer and a supermarket. We watched the crane on a barge loading concrete 'knobs' for the breakwater that had been prefabricated on the quay. Back on board we put three cans of diesel in the tank. That evening the Dutch catamaran ahead of us invited us to join them for a drink: Mo was tired and let me go by myself. We had decided to leave early in the morning, provided that the weather improved as expected overnight.
The weather had not improved much, as far as we could tell, so the 0500 alarm call went unheeded for quite some while. As it seemed to be our best chance, however, we concluded that we should give it a shot, and left our berth at 0730, a bit late. Immediately outside the harbour, the offlying islets provided some shelter, but as we emerged we found quite large seas running. Although they were perhaps 2 metres in height, they were at least consistent from a westerly direction, and not the lumpy cross seas we normally encounter. Fuga occasionally put her nose in one, but for the most part the bows somehow rose over them. The seas were knocking the way off quite badly, but gently motoring was enough to keep the sails working in the F5 winds, and we had between 6 and 7 knots boatspeed. The strategy was to stay on a starboard tack and gain some shelter from the lee off Crete, and for a while this worked and we could dispense with the engine. The winds did eventually veer and die down to about F3, so we again had to motor to get ourselves to windward and around Sideros Point. Once around we had a fair wind, having decided to head for Sitia in view of our late start and slow progress.
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| At Sitia there was room outside these fishing boats in the corner of the harbour to go alongside |
At Sitia we found the southern breakwater was congested with local boats, but the northern breakwater had space, and we went ahead of another small yacht in the middle. Fishing boats adorned the inner end of the pier, and a pair of large fishing boats and a barge were outside and behind us.
We decided to take a walk ashore at Sitia. The waterfront was lined with bars and restaurants, but the streets behind were full of real shops, not tourist tat. There was a general strike in progress against the government's austerity measures, and with much honking of horns some assorted tractors, fork lift trucks and others were 'processing' with a police escort through the town to the market square. We found a supermarket, and returned to the boat laden with unexpected supplies. We filled up with water, as it was churlish not to take advantage of the tap there, and then prepared to set off. The wind was light, F3, from the north. This was a big surprise, and meant that we could sail free on our desired course. Almost unprecedented! We had a quiet and pleasant sail to Spinalonga. The wind was chilly, and Mo found it necessary to perch on the cockpit coamings to get some sun, out of the shadow of the sails. As we neared our destination the wind freshened and headed us slightly, so we were sailing fast. We anchored off the village at Elounda (Schisma), and were treated to a long church service across the water. After an hour or so we tried to drown it with Beethoven on board. As soon as the service was over, the bells rang out again, and a band started up, accompanied by fireworks. Is it perhaps Ascension Day?
