After The Corinth: Sailors, Seers and Monks

When we walked around the Temple of Posiedon earlier in the month, pausing to consider the importance in history of just a few pillars reaching into the sky, I felt we had come to a "best of" experience of some sort. Little did I expect that in the next few days, we would explore an even more important historical site, and another place of great beauty. 

We emerged from the stillness and serenity of the Corinth Canal into a new stretch of water with cool winds blowing straight on the nose. I stood face up, arms stretched out joyfully emulating Kate Winslet , anticpating a day of tacking (zigzagging) up the Gulf of Corinth towards our next stop. At last, some proper winds to sail with, the future was so shiney!

Of course, this was only a temporary effect of the narrowing headland that was now behind us, and in fact the wind died to 2 knots coming from behind us. As we were motoring at 6.5knots, this meant no cool breeze at all, and periodically Mike would tire of my sighing and panting, and we would turn everything off and jump into the blue to cool down. I hate the heating up part, but it is such bliss to be able to stop at any time, just you, your boat and clear calm water. Of yes, and some dolphins too if you happen to look at the right time.

We were heading to Galaxidi/Galaxidhi on the northern side of the Gulf, 38nm from the canal exit. As we travelled up the gulf we headed for one of two large bays, Itea Bay, then turned left around an small islet into the beautiful cove facing Galaxidi. While we chose to anchor to make the most of any breezes that may pass our way, Galaxidi is one of the rare places where tying stern-to on the town wall is a enticing prospect. Indeed we found three of the boats already there were friends, or friend of friends (which in our new world amounts to the same thing) - SV Impavidus, SV Chill and SV Eriskay - already enjoying this picturesque village.  

The view while at anchor near Galaxidi 

Galaxidi feels like an island oasis, but is actually on the Greek mainland, about 3hours drive from Athens (in case you are inspired to go...).     When we weren't escaping the heat drinking gin in SV Chill's air-conditioned cabin,  or on a day trip in a cool car, we wandered around the town admiring old ship captain's houses or visiting the bakery in the Agora, the town square.  Like all things Greek,  Galaxidi has a rich history dating from something-something BC,  but is more recently known for it's excellent boat building, a reputation established in the 1800s and lasting until the beginning of the 20th century. Galaxdi has a modern maritime musuem tucked inside one of the old buildings hidden up a lane. It is the oldest martitime musuem in Greece, and the collections of documents, artwork, figureheads, weapons, coins, maps etc cover the history of the town and local people for 5000 years. The vast collection of artwork, apart from being beautiful to look at, tells us how far the ships built in Galaxidi travelled, what trade routes they took, what was transported and what happened in ship wrecks. 

Figurehead in the Museum: when a captain died, his widow would paint his ship's figurehead black

For more information on their collection, and the role the town's ships had in the Greek War of Independence, see  Galaxidi Museum .

As much as we could have spent days pottering about the town, and coming to know it far better than we did, we chose to venture out a bit further by car. On our first day, Ant and Cid from SV Impavidus joined us as we set out for THE most important historical site for ALL MANKIND! I'm only slightly exaggerating. It was lucky Mike had had a few days break from me mentioning archeological sites, as he could have been forgiven had he shuddered when I suggested we visit the Archeological Site, and Museum, of Delphi.  Just a short half hour drive away, past valleys, bays and the olive grove of Amfissa, over 3000 years old, covering 55 acres with over 1 million olive trees. Then up, up into the hills of Mount Parnassus, to the stupendous, incredible place that once was once considered to be the very centre of the world.

The site contains two sanctuaries, that of Apollo (5th century BC), and of Athena Pronaia (7th to 4th century BC), not to mention the route of the Sacred Way. The site is outstanding, with breathtaking views down the steep hillsides, and ancient, towering edifices above and around you. Also placed around the site were other structures, including one stone carved object that looked like the stone tip of a torpedo. Hmm, I thought quickly and passed it by. Turns out I was looking at a simplified copy of the Omphalos of Delphi. Legend has it that Zeus released two eagles from opposite ends of the world, and when the two birds crossed paths, Zeus declared that the site, Delphi, was the centre of the world. A stone, or Omphalos, was placed in a tripod on a column supported by three dancers, to mark the spot. The original stone is inside the museum; this one is very prettily decorated wth carvings representing the wool cover and precious stones in the shape of a mermaid and 2 eagles, that used to protect the Omphalos.

Mike, Cid and Ant climbing up and up....

And you may have heard of the Oracle of Delphi, the most important oracle particularly in the 8th-4th centuries BC, who delivered oracles from Apollo. Pythia, as she/shes were known, first belonged to the Mother Earth, Gaia, but was stolen by Apollo. His (or her?) advice was sought by kings and lawmakers,  to decide when to plant, or when to go to war, or...  thus she was very influential. However, one had to be very careful what you asked, as her reply was often ambiguous and open to interpretation - the wrong one could land you or your people in trouble.  As to how she received the words of Apollo? Apparently she had smoke blown up her ... arse.  To quote Britannica:

"Consultations were normally restricted to the seventh day of the Delphic month, Apollo’s birthday, and were at first banned during the three winter months when Apollo was believed to be visiting the Hyperboreans in the north, though Dionysus later took Apollo’s place at Delphi during that time. According to the usual procedure, sponsors were necessary, as was the provision of a pelanos (ritual cake) and a sacrificial beast that conformed to rigid physical standards. The Pythia and her consultants first bathed in the Castalian spring; afterward, the Pythia drank from the sacred spring Cassotis and then entered the temple. There she apparently descended into a basement cell, mounted a sacred tripod, and chewed leaves of the laurel, Apollo’s sacred tree. The Pythia often went into an ecstatic state and would channel Apollo. Some have claimed that her altered condition was the result of gases—such as ethylene and methane—that were emitted from geologic fault lines underneath the temple. Whatever the cause, the Pythia would speak, intelligibly or otherwise."

Although this does sound all a bit dodgy, there were three Delphic Maxims inscribed into the front of the Temple of Apollo that are still relevant today:  Know Thy Self, Nothing to Excess, and, Surety Brings Ruin. 

After sufficiently heating up, and eyeing off the impressive sprinkler system around the site to protect the relics from bushfires, we stepped over Huuuuuuuuge dogs- slash- wolves that had worked out the coolest place to be was right in the doorway under the airconditioning units in the cafe, and made our way to the Museum. Again, mindblowing. Hundreds of sculptures and relics, rescued and restored, are now displayed undercover,  away from the elements. Among the most famous exhibits are the Sphinx of Naxos, and, The Charioteer of Delphi. Carrved from marble in 6th century BC, the Sphinx was a gift from the people of Naxos, an island we had visited in the Docadonese weeks before. This gift accorded Naxions the promanteia, or privilege, to have priority in receiving oracles. The Sphinx was originally mounted on a tall 12m column at the centre of the Temple of Apollo. 

Intricate detail in this statue of a running woman

 

The other standout exhibit is of The Charioteer of Delphi, aka Heniokhos, the rein-puller.  This very rare bronze statue from the 4th century BC (yes, 2500 years old) had the 'misfortune' of being buried by a rockfall in 373BC, which destroyed Delphi. Most similar works of early Greek bronze art had been melted down and lost,  but Heniokhos was left as is, until it was discovered in the Temple of Apollo in 1896. The Charioteer was originally part of a larger work with four horses and 2 grooms. It is thought from his stance and garments he represents a young man from an aristocratic family - tall and light, as required for a Charioteer, and standing upright as he would for a victory lap of the hippodrome. To be honest,  I wasn't the only one who stood hushed, quietly appreciating his fine lines, the remnants of the reins, and the good fortune we had to see such ancient artifacts at all.

For more detail, please see this site:  Delphi Archeological Site and Museum.

Next day Alison from SV Chill left her poor sickly co-captain Ray behind (sorry Ray) to join us for an excursion of another kind, and we drove up up through the hills again, to visit The Monastery of Hosios Loukas, a UNESCO listed site. The complex, which is still a working monastery, consists of the church of Theotokos, a larger cathedral/church, the Katholikon, the monks living quarters, and the tomb and Altar of Hosios Loukas. This St Loukas/Luke was a hermit, not the St Luke the evanglist, and was known for his healing powers. Loukas the hermit is responsible for the  original foundations of the church in 953AD. Additions were made in the 10th century to house his relics, aka body, and also in the 11th century, partly to allow for the growing numbers of pilgrims, as it was believed his relics exuded a healing oil called 'myron', and spending a night lying next to his tomb was encouraged by the monks. 

Decorations left over from the Feast of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary

Not feeling particularly ill, (not to mention Alison is a doctor, and who needs a saint anyway), Alison and I ignored this tempting excercise, instead exploring every nook and cranny, - looking up, then peering down into underground excavations, admired the 1000 year old frescoes, soaring arches, mosaics, and paintings, not to mention the beauty of the architecture placed in a stunning location. It was a really lovely experience.

Entrance to the smaller church

I love a cool crypt 

Saint Alison in the Crypt

Detail inside the crypt, close to the oldest parts of the site

Golden mosiac tiles and iconography adorn the ceilings

It was in the monastery's mini-museum that I finally found an explanation for a difference in approach between Christianity and Islam. As I understand it neither religion tolerates idolatry, where human hands create an image of God/Allah. This is very clear in mosques and major historical buidlings in Turkey, where the use of mosaic tiles, beautiful doors and intricate architecture is worship enough. And yet every where we went in Greece we saw churches with beautiful iconography, whose history documented it's discovery by a shepherd, fisherman, or solitary person, with a subsequent declaration by the community or a visit from Mary, that a church was needed to be built to protect the icon. And this is the way around the No Idols rule - as long as the icons were not created by human hand, they were acceptable. Sneaky, hey?

After joining Mike, who had retired early,  for a cool drink on the terrace overlooking grapevines and rolling hills with cicadas throbbing away, served by a kind gentleman (Monk? monk friend?) who gave us free cakes, we reluctantly tore ourselves away and returned back to our floating homes.

Cruising the Saronic Gulf

 As the outline of mainland Greece became clearer on the horizon, with North Cyprus, Turkiye, the Docadonese and Cyclades islands behind us,  we looked at each other and well, some high-fives were exchanged cos we thought we were pretty damn good, and very chuffed with ourselves. So much time and effort had gone into that part of our journey, it seemed surreal to have completed it.

So strange that in fact I/we realised that we hadn't given much thought to the course to take from this point. Mike's goal was "the Ionian", but that was about it, apart from reaching Montenegro towards the end of September. Deciding that some guidance was required, and with sail up, Kirrikie glided across to Point Sounion on the Attica Peninsular, where we anchored under the Temple of Posiedon, one of my sailing bucket list items. It's not the best place to approach via dinghy, but we needed to pay homage to the God of the Sea - it would be rude not to. Maybe even tempting fate! The Temple of Posiedon rivals The Parthenon, (or so they say). It stands very majestically overlooking the Agean Sea, serving as a temple and a fortress with sea views in 3 directions. Again we avoided peak sunset tourist times and had a peaceful and awe-inspiring time wandering around,  imagining life in ancient times, and muttering thanks-but-please-don't-sink-us, several times just in case.

A bit of background from the web...    

"The Temple of Poseidon was built during the Golden Age of Athens in the 5th century BCE. After the Greeks defeated the Persians in 479 BCE, the Greeks placed captured Persian warships at Sounion as a trophy dedicated to Poseidon. A more permanent temple of Poseidon was constructed at Sounion from 444 to 440 BC.

According to Greek mythology, the placement of the temple also had to do with King Aegeus of Athens. Aegeus was the second (human) father of the great hero Theseus (Poseidon himself being the other).

As the story goes, Theseus embarked on his journey to Crete, promising his father that if he successfully defeated the Minotaur, he would return with white sails on his ship, indicating his victory. Unfortunately, Theseus forgot to change the sails to white upon his return, leading Aegeus to believe his son had perished. In his despair, Aegeus jumped into the Aegean Sea from Cape Sounion, which was subsequently named after him.

The Temple of Poseidon was built on Cape Sounion to honor King Aegeus's memory and pay homage to Poseidon, the God associated with the sea and the protector of sailors. The temple served as a sacred site where seafarers and travelers would make offerings and seek Poseidon's favor before embarking on their voyages."

I'm afraid that a few more photos are required to do the Temple justice:

After spending the night under the lights of the temple, contemplating the fact that we had joined centuries of sailors who had anchored in this spot, it was time to focus on our present day needs - these being the jammed mainsail, the quickly corroding sacrificial anode (ironically stopping us sacrificing our boat to Poseidon),  no gas bottles to use in Greece (our Turkish ones went to new-found friends heading in the opposite direction), plus the ususal need to access fuel, water, bins, laundry etc. 

Our route took us from Cape Sounion, Alimos Marina (near Pireus), Poros via Aegina,  Epidaurus and finally through the Corinth Canal

Hoping to twist the arms of recommended riggers we booked into Alimos Marina, on the outskirts of Athens for 2 nights. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get help there, as we were coming up to the very important date, August 15th, which precipitates an annual 2 week holiday for much of Greece. The Dekapentavgoustos ( I looked it up)  is a Greek Orthodox church commemoration, the 'Dormition of Panagia (Virgin Mary) and her ascension into heaven. Some greek guy said think of it like Easter in summer. Many services close down, including riggers. Not to mention pilgrimages back to ancestral villages, and to the seaside tourist sites, and marinas and beaches.. it was getting busier on the water.

At Alimos we unwisely decided it was time to once again present ourselves to the port police to have our sailing log stamped and updated. The instructions sailors receive is  very inconsistent, but basically you pay for a log when you enter the country, and must have it stamped at each port you travel through, or at least any port or marina that you tie alongside. If you anchor in a small bay, or don't take the boat in, you don't need to.  Which is what a lot of boaties do.

The tricky part is saying where you're heading - you have to name a place, but what happens if you don't end up going there? A while back we had nominated the main port on the island of Paros, near Naxos, as our next destination. However, due to the weather we had not stopped there after all. We had attempted to have our log updated in Finikas, Symos, but the friendly officer waved us away as we were at anchor.

So let's do the right thing hey? Whoah, wrong! To set the scene, when we arrived at the office, the officer was already yelling down the phone at some poor wretch, and the TV screen on the wall showed that Greece was playing poorly against Germany in the Olympic basketball. Not a good time. We politely presented our documents and the yelling and paperwork throwing commenced. I didn't know you could toss A4 papers so quickly and precisely, I need to practice that. Apparently we unleashed the beast by not checking into Paros, we were like every other foreign incompetent sailor who didn't know what we were doing, couldn't follow rules, no way was he going to stamp our paperwork, go away and go back to Paros!!!  Why didn't you go to Paros??! You must go back. That was the brief version. And Paros was 90nms away, and through the meltemi again. We ain't doing that mister.

At this stage I was in 3 minds. Firstly - oohhh we've finally got our grumpy greek guy -  about time! Secondly - if Your system doesn't work because none of the greek officials seem to agree,  it isn't Our fault. But lastly and mainly - remember Ian Wilson from SV Longo Mai's approach to this situation, be contrite.  So I held Mike back,  and said very sweetly, in my I'm such a blonde voice, oh dear, what can we do, is there anyway we can fix this? Blink blink blink?  Scowling, he snatched back the paperwork to stamp-bang-stamp-thump, continuing to lecture us about what we should have done, but slipped us the little gem that instead of naming a port, you just put down an area, such as the Saronic Gulf. Which is a whole archipelago full of coastline and islands. Bingo! We were already in the Saronic Gulf. We had yet to travel through that, then the Gulf of Corinth, and the Gulf of Patras before coming to the Ionian Sea, our last area in Greece. As far as he was concerned, when we said we were heading to the Ionian, which he duly recorded on our log,  we were going straight there.....   we kowtowed outta there, and hop-skipped all the way back to the boat.  And Germany won the basketball.

After a couple of sweltering days, washing the boat down - a squirt for the boat and a splash for me -  runnings errands and picking up parts in the excellent chandleries, we caught up over dinner with Tina and Pete from SV Elisabeth, our boat neighbours and friends from North Cyprus, and Finike, which we really enjoyed. We waved them goodbye the next day, expecting to see them again in a few days, but like so many times before, events take over, and sadly this was not to be. As they had a very terrible ending to their sailing this year, they are permanently putting their sails away, so adieu Pete and Tina, thank you for everything.

Where next? Having no real immediate goals was a new experience for us. I tried to convince Mike that visiting another temple of Athena on the island of Aegina was a must,  but strangely I was unsuccessful. He wanted to get to the Corinth Canal ASAP, and I didn't. We 'compromised' by heading to Navy Bay, Poros, looking one way to the town of Galatas, and the other way to Poros. We were now in very popular charter territory, in the middle of peak season, and expected problems with finding a safe anchorage. Luckily we seemed to time it right, and in this case we counted about 40 boats heading out in the opposite direction as we looked for a spot - spoiled for choice. And the reason for this popularity was clear; with no disrespect to islands in the Agean, Poros had to be one of the prettiest villages we had seen (so far).  Served well by ferries, it is an easy travel for mainlanders, so the seaside promenade is lined with enticing restaurants, bakeries, and icecream shops, red tile roofs on pale buildings, tolling church bells, and a single bus replacing cars to get around.  Lovely.

Secluded bay off the island of Aegina

Poros town square with distinctive fountain

Our favourite, Old Fountain Cafe

With evidence of civilisation back to the Bronze age, Poros has seen the likes of the Egyptians, Romans, Ottomans and Venetians come and go. During the Greek revolution in 1821 the revolutionary leaders would meet in Poros to discuss their plans; the first Greek Navy was established in Poros in 1828, and here the borders of the new Greek state were first decided by Greek leaders and the  ambassadors of England, France and Russia. Navy Bay refers to the fact that the Russian navy was granted a naval base in Poros in 1774 as part of an end-of-Russo-Turkish-War treaty, and it was only after Greek independence the Russians were moved around the corner to an another site; eventually Russian influence declined and now beach umbrellas are planted in front of decaying buildings.

Although Navy Bay offered a lovely sanctuary from an approaching weather front, we decided to make a run for it, to move closer the Corinth Canal, aiming to get through the Canal before 'Dekapentavgoustos'. 

On the way we stopped briefly to snorkle over the Sunken City of Epidavros The 'city' is really the ruins of an Roman villa, about 50m from the shore, and less than 5m underwater. Epidaurus/ Epidavros/ Epidauros itself was an important commerical centre, with an ancient theatre and sanctuary of Asciepius, the greek god of medicine - neither of which we were able to visit, hopefully  'next time'. The underwater ruins were discovered in the 1970's, and include remnants of an ancient fort, walls and buildings. I have to say while it wasn't a large city, it was fascinating to swim over a rural Roman villa from the 2nd century. I glided and drifted over large round structures with broken tops and imagined I was gazing into the top of minarets, but they were actually large amphorae (jars). Then I turned and swam the route of paved roman roads and walls, submerged stone bricks still intact. I also had to refrain from drowning stupid tourists, who stood on top of the ruins in their flippers to adjust their masks. Grrrrrrr (Rule 1 of diving - never ever put your feet down on top of something. Ok, it maybe about rule 10, but still...).

(PS, no underwater camera, so I pinched these from the interweb)

As there wasn't enough sanctuary in this spot we motored around to the protection of Kalamaki Beach, next to the town of Archaia Epidaurus, where we spent two days smugly enjoying the spectacle of too many (charter) boats trying to find safety at the end of the day, dragging catamarans with absent sailors, and were treated to a concert on the shores for the August holiday makers. (The Europeans are smart - concerts don't start til after 9pm, there's no need to get there early and sit in the hot afternoon sun, lugging chairs and eskies, getting pissed before it starts. The concerts are always much more family friendly and ultimately more enjoyable.)

Finally it was time to move to the start of the Corinth Canal. The canal, which was finally competed in 1882 after over 2500 years of effort, cuts through a small strip of land called the Isthmus of Corinth, separating mainland Greece from Peloponnese, providing access between the Saronic Gulf and the Gulf of Corinth. It is 6.3ks long, 21-25m wide and a maximum of 8 metres deep. Open for only a short time each year,  usually between May and October,  it is not designed to provide a path for large container ships, but smaller craft like us, super yachts and small cruise ships. Other  larger ships, and when it is closed, must go around the Peloponnese peninsular. 

Traffic is carefully co-ordinated, particularly as it's a one-way at a time canal. We were required to book our time-slot, provide details about Kirrikie (height, depth, width),  pay a fee, report to the entrance at a specific time, and then fall in to a line of boats in the order required, to keep things moving as needed. It takes about half an hour to go through. Which is just not long enough to really appreciate the moment and the achievement - ours, and the creators of the canal. My impressions?  The canal was more pretty and impressive than I was expecting, the water in places was a very clear turquoise,  vegetation was very varied - including  a few Aussie eucalypts - and the ongoing maintenance reassuring. As for Mike - well it was a long-time sailor's bucket list item for him, so he was a happy sailor. 

We now were in a new sea, without the Meltemi, and so much of Greece behind us, and yet we still hadn't reached the Ionian.  Little did we know that despite the incredible monuments and landscapes we had already passed, the best was yet to come....