Go West! - Sailing across the Cyclades

We had made our way out of Turkiye and into Greece via the island of Symi. We departed quickly and turned north visiting the islands of Kos (if you count anchoring in a bay at the very far end for one night only),  Leros and Patmos. 

We could have continued on happily through the Docadonese islands, but we decided this was just far enough north to be able to turn west-ish and start heading towards Athens and the Saronic Gulf, hopefully harnessing the winds  across our beam. These winds, the Meltemi, come down from as far as the Ukraine, across the Black Sea, the Sea of Marmara which divides Istanbul into east and west, into the Thracian Sea and then rush rush all the way across the Agean Sea, squeezed between Greece and Turkiye.

In reality, the prevailing winds became the element we had to work around, rather than work with.  Note - not that I am complaining, despite it sounding like it. I was and am very glad to have any sort of air moving around the boat to cool us off. Without it I would now resemble a sun-dried tomato without the lovely flavour but just as red.

The multiple choices of islands to visit as we crossed the sea was overwhelming, you could spend months, as many do, moving and staying at islands in each group. So, where shall we go?? Our decisions were based on time and wind. We also did not wish to visit busy tourist islands like Mykanos or Santorini: these do not necessarily have good anchorages, and if they do they are incredibly crowded, just like the islands themselves. We have a boat, let's go where the crowds can't... 

Panagia Church, Nikouria Beach

 

Our first island was Amorgos; I had never heard of it before, but it is shaped like a seahorse, so that seemed like a good reason to head that way (we missed out on Astipalia, referred to as the butterfly island, also due to its shape). In reality, it was about 45nm away, not too far south and offering good protection from 30+knot winds that were on their way. We were happy to be able to sail, even with only one sail, for just over half of the trip, but ultimately we motored the last 13 or so miles. It was really starting to whip up the water as we arrived,  but inside the massive almost deserted space of Nickouria Beach,  tucked behind a large islet, it was very peaceful. We and most of the handful of boats stayed solidly anchored for 3 days while outside it was white caps on the ocean and howling banshee winds.  There was a small rustic beach bar on shore, with a fisherman's ferry bringing customers each hour from the shore of Amorgos.  Apart from that there wasn't much else to do - watch the goats appear at dusk and go for a walk up the hill to visit the originally named Pangagia Church. We met Aussie/Pom couple Irene and Brian, which was handy as Irene has Greek heritage - with the help of her translation skills, we caught the bus over to the main town Katapola for a touch of civilisation (coffee and fresh bread), wide-eyed at the narrow hairpin bendy road.

Peace and quiet in Nikouria Beach

A few days later we left this excellent spot thinking of making for one of the Koufonisi Islands - Ano or Kato, eenie meenie mynee mo -  but Mike discovered a coolant leak had developed from the heat exchanger hose. Change of plan! We motored carefully around to the town quay of Katapola, one eye (each) on the engine temperature. Greek is obviously new territory for us, and getting parts throughout the islands isn't easy. Nonetheless, we mentioned our problem to the "harbour master"  did he know a guy? With a hose? He did, and subsequently the local mechanic (fishing boats are aplenty) called Eric - yes that was his name - arrived the next morning, took some measurements, and returned with help and a hose. For those, like me, who thought it was a simple job, it took two sweaty Greek mechanics and one even sweatier Aussie to manhandle the new hose into place. The verdict was, replace all your hoses. Our new priority was to source the right hoses for our particular engine. Mike found a guy a few islands away, who could order them from the mainland, so that now dictated our passage planning.

Hose intact,  and after freeing our fouled anchor (where someone else had laid their anchor on top of ours, and thus they become entwined) we left behind the quaint harbour of Katapola, we turned toward Ano Koufounisi and Pori Beach Bay. One night only, as we had our sights set on the next large island, Naxos, and then Paros where we hoped to pick up our new hoses. We had one day of ridiculousness, as the proteced anchorage of Kalantos made us think the predicted strong winds were incorrect, and headed out and UP into the wind, for a bay up the left hand side of Naxos. Stupid is as stupid does. It was a an exhilarating but very bumpy trip, taking hours to reach Moutsouna Bay, where we were of course, the only boat. After a short lunch break, we headed alllll the way back again (this time quickly, with the wind and waves behind us) to the other side of Naxos where we found Paralia Agiassos. And stayed there. For 2 nights, having learnt our lesson.

Naxos is quite a large island, with lots to see, so we hired a car. I screamed at every corner as usual, and fell a little bit in love with the mountain villages and stunnng views. ( An important industry on Naxos were /are the marble, flint and emery mines.  The emery mines have been declared to be culturally signficant  - a monument to the modern inustrial history of Greece - and are preserved by the Ministry of Culture.) 

Naxos is where Ariadne was abandoned by Theseus, after she had helped him escape from the Minotaur (Cur!). Luckily, she was later discovered, asleep, by the god Dionysus, who fell in love with and married her. He also threw her jewelled crown into the sky, creating the Corona Borealis constellation. True story.

We made our way to the mountain villages of Filoti, Apeiranthos with the Panagia Aperathitissa Church, and then Chalki. The church is a good example of the importance of icons  - normally there is a story where a local "found' the icon, left behind by Mary, or a saint, which dictated where that place of worship needed to be built. Anyway, it was indeed a beautful church from the 18th century, with striking marble triple bell tower.  The day continued with a religious flavour as we then travelled on to the Temple of Demeter (no relation to Harry Potter and the Dementers,  or am I the only one who thought this?). In fact she was a lovely goddess, responsible for the harvest, grain and fertility. This temple was built from local marble in 520-530BC, not quite a full century before the Parthenon. It was quite small, but we gradually discovered that most of the temples were like this.  Finally we completed the day by visiting the magnificent Temple of Apollo, situated on the peninsular near the main port of Naxos. It is in fact, only part of  an unfinished temple dedicated to the god of healing, poetry, music, archery, medicine and the sun. What I would call an overachiever, others call a God. It is a popular place for sunset photos, but it was equally outstanding when we visited, and with less competition from (other) tourists, and a great finish to our 1 day on Naxos. 

Temple of Apollo, Naxos

Sadly we had to keep up the momentum, and decided to meet the man-with-the-hose directly, so it was see-you-another-time Paros and hello Syros. We half motored and half sailed on a starboard tack the 28nms to Achladi Bay on Syros, where we stopped for only one night; despite it being pretty, the wind funnelled and rushed down in the bay, so more protection was required if we wanted to leave the boat at all. Next day we sailed a short distance to Parachia Finikas, a much larger bay that gave us more anchoring options and less in your face blasts of wind. Ahhh, one of my favourite places. Was it the slightly better roads? Was it the excellent tiny chandlery run by Poppy who provided a hire car, and practically everything else we needed? Was it the seaside restaurant where we celebrated Mike's birthday? No, it was the bakery. I love a good bakery, and this was the best in two seasons of sailing. Cakes, ice-creams, sandwiches, patisserie and confectionery delights,  mmmm bread and cold drinks and coffee and... ..

Inside the small harbour, Finikas

We spent Mike's birthday doing something he absolutely loves, driving through and getting lost in narrow streets looking for a tourist destination, so we can then climb up in the heat to look at a church on top of a hill. The Cathedral of St George was a little bit of a let-down, but it's main charm is that it is the decoration on top of Anos Syros, the old town of Syros, built by the Venetians about 1200. Anos Syrus was blindingly bright, a maze of  seemingly deserted narrow lanes weaving up and down, reminding me of the moving staircases  in Hogwarts. Luckily we turned into one 'street' to find actual people, plus small shops and bars; we settled in to the one with the most breeze for a cooling drink, with magnificent views overlooking the hillside and the capital of Syros and the Cyclades, Ermoupoli.  Surprisingly Mike declined the opportunity to explore the hot streets of Ermoupoli, and chose instead lunch and a swim at a popular beach, before a birthday nap and dinner.

Anos Syros

Having recieved the all important hose, Mike ordered the anchor be raised, we're off to Kythnos. I'm not happy, Syros was my new home. Mike is raising sails, singing to himself, wind is on the beam, and I'm sulking all the way. We pulled in 33nms later into Apokrisi Bay, and I think it's Apocalyptic Bay.  Now, after staying here for a week, waiting for more favourable conditions, Kythnos grew on me, and it was certainly an interesting place. But the initial, strongest impression was, this is what happens when the vegetation is eaten or harvested or dug up or cut down, so nothing holds the top soil in place and it blows away.  The whole island is covered by thousands - millions?  - of miles of rock walls, and the land is the same colour as the rocks. Apparently the island used to grow and export barley, very hard to imagine now. And it's here that you really really get to see how desperate the islands need water, as indeed does all of Greece, having suffered several years of poor rainfall and scorching summers. (See my rant below).

Looking down on Apokrisi Bay. The road on the left is a main road...

During our 'enforced incarceration', we watched the wind whipping up the sand aka dirt along the shore and onto the August holiday makers, who were determined to enjoy themselves. So gradually I began to appreciate this unusal place, particularly as it had a very smart restaurant in the corner of the bay, where we'd sit and enjoy an Americano (hot for him) and Freddo Cappuccino (cold for me),  We hired a car, the most expensive in Greece with the worst clutch, so we could run some errands and explore. I have to say I don't think I'll ever recover from the terror of the roads on Kythnos. It was the only island we actually saw a donkey being used for transport, and it made total sense, but I did enjoy exploring this amazing landscape, including the Chora - main town - in the centre of the island.

Finally we got a break, and although we could have made it easily to the mainland, we deviated to Kea, only 10nms away, weighing anchor at Paralia Polo. This was such a pretty bay,  with crystal clear water, and few other boats, so even Mike elected to stop and relax for an extra day, something we hadn't yet done. Ooohh, we're on 'oliday now! 

To break up the monotony of swimming, reading, swimming etc we dinghied around the  corner to visit the site of the Temples of Athena and Apollo. Once upon a time this was the site of the ancient town of Karthea, our bay is called Polo after Polis, or town. Little remains except the last surving structures of the temple of the goddess Athena from the 8th century BC and the Temple of Apollo, 530BC. Situated on a small hill overlooking the sea, it's a stunning location - it's easy to see why they were built there. In the small valley below lie some evidence of previous civilisations, and an ancient theatre from the 1st century BC, where Mike tested out the acoustics with a personal performance for an audience of one. 

Temple of Athena

Remnants of the Temple of Apollo

Someone with a God complex...  (this is where a statue of Apollo once stood)

Ancient theatre in the shadow of the temples 

Then it was time to conclude our Cycladic journey and point our bow towards the tip of mainland Greece, a mere 18nms away, waved goodbye to the islands of the Agean.

PS.

This brings me to what I kept thinking about on this part of our journey :  water, us and tourists in the Greek Islands. They/we are absolutely  necessary for the continued survival of many of the islands, as there are limited fishing,  agricultural or other industries to keep them 'afloat'. But ..... nearly everything is brought over from the mainland on the ferries you see criss-crossing the ocean in every direction.  We were advised at one island that few of them, with the exception of Naxos, had sustainable supplies of water. Bottled water for drinking comes by ferry, as do most things to sustain the communities. We certainly witnessed the unloading and trucking of masses of crates of bottled water - in single use plastic - plus food, building materials, car parts, clothing ... you name it. If the ferries stop, we were told, the islands would last 12 days. 

Then add to that the tourists.  Tourism pushes up land values, making it hard for locals to purchase property, while agricultural land is sold and lost to the tourism industry. Recently we read an report that 17,000 cruise ship visitors visit Santorini EVERY day. Local authorities are pushing for this to be limited this to 8,000 per day. 

Greece sustained the hottest temperatures on record in 2024, with temperatures an average of 2.3 degrees Celsius higher than normal. And very little rain. So we cursed ourselves for not installing a watermaker, and unfortunately are relying heavily on bottled water to supplement our tanks, rather than trying to get water from the islands themselves. 

Ponder and rant over.

Greece is the Word - Sailing through the Docadonese Islands

Looking down on Symi in the morning light

....  yes that's a corny title, but it had to be done.

Finally it looked like we could start on the next stage of our odyssey and head for Greece. We headed out of  Marmaris towards one of our favourite places, Bozburun, so we could make that our last but happy ending (sorry again, can't be helped) in Turkiye, stopping one night at the picturesque but scorchingly hot bay of Ciftlik.

Pretty but hot Ciftlik Bay

In Bozburun we met Canadian/ Venezuelan/Russian/Portugese couple Jorge and Marianna from SV Taima, anchored near us. As they were checking out the same time, we ended up having breakie together, mulling over the weather and what this meant for our journeys to Greece. In addition they shared this great story: as they were coming into the bay near us they noticed something floundering in the water; kind hearted, they slowed to check it out - it was a baby-slash-teen hawk, drowning.  They managed to rescue it, wrapped it up in a towel and proceded to secure their boat. The birdling (well, older than a chick) was at first so exhausted that it could hardly accept water, but they persevered, and it became strong enough to start moving. Off came the towel. Through trial and error they discovered that Hawkey Pokey, as he became known, didn't like tuna, but loved raw steak. Just to emphasise, Jorge and Marianna now had a mini bird of prey, hopping about their small 35 foot sailboat. And as Jorge would say, pooping, don't forget the pooping. To solve this problem at night, they simply left him in the bathroom/head, placed Jorge's last straw hat over him and Hawkey Pokey went straight to sleep. They kept him and nursed him to health as long as they could, but not wishing to have a dscussion with Greek authorities about tranporting wild creatures across international borders, took him to a quiet place on shore and released him. He didn't' want to go.... and he probably could have done with a bit more help. They wanted to stay longer but had to leave.

Hawkey Pokey and Jorge 

And so did we. We checked out of Turkiye for the last time, up anchored and headed off to the far away land of gyros, moussaka and mastika. And Meltemi Winds, mustn't forget that.  

Our first goal for this year was to reach the Saronic Gulf, where we are now, and then transit the Corinth Canal. But before that we had to sail across through islands in the Agean. There are numerous goups of islands in Greece - the Docadonese, Cyclades, Saronic, Northern Agean, Eastern Aegean, Sporades, and the Ionian. This year we will travel through the first three areas, and the Ionian islands. But only when the winds let us. So far we have discovered that pottering around islands is but a dream, that in reality we look at the wind and waves for the next week or so and dash on, or stay put as required, sorrowfully shelving some plans and enjoying places we hadn't heard of.

Our journey took us north to 4 of the 12 islands in the Docadonese;  from Symi the end of Kos for an overnight anchorage, then onto Leros, and finally Patmos. This got us as high as we had time to go (without the use of hallucinogen assistance) so we could use the winds to cross the Agean. Going into wind isn't relaxed sailing, if the waves are against you too it can be dangerous to your boat and definitely uncomfortable. Good sailing is when the wind is across your side - on the beam - or to the side behind you. The islands are not lined up conveniently like little vegemite toasts for you, so it will always be a little up/down/across, hide from the Meltemi. And the locals everywhere we went commented that they hadn't seen a year like this, with constant winds coming from the north/north west.  

It was a looonggg way, at least 13nm to Symi. It was more the symbolism than the distance. Greece requires different paperwork and payments, so it was a learning experience. You can pay an agent if you want (it's mandatory in Turkiye) or DIY. How hard can it be? Just do it in the right order, and remember that a lot of offices close for lunch, reopening of course at the reasonable hour of 5pm. 

Firstly, visit the immigration office in a demountable under the clocktower on one side of the port; we were a little stressed due to the North Cyprus stamps in our passport, but the officer couldn't have been more welcoming and friendly. Here we also filled in our crewlist, which was stamped stamped stamped. If you need old fashioned librarians get them from Greece or Turkey, very efficient.

After 5pm we had our turn in the customs office in middle of the port where we presented our crewlist, our passports, proof we had paid the Tepai, the Greek monthly cruising tax, boat registration etc etc, full history family tree and the souls of our children and grandchildren, paid another fee and were finally presented with our transit log.  More stamping of course.

Then it was on to the further side of the port, to the Port Police. Up the steps at the side of a building, ring the doorbell and whisper the secret password, and a window will open up for you while you're balancing on one foot on the stairs so you can pass in your newly minted transit log, pay another fee, so it can be stamped.  We could tell where this office was from the sweat drips on the path from previous boaties ...

Yellow customs building in Symi port

Port Police - Ring the bell on the left, wait, talk thru the window and you'd better have the exact change, or start again...

(I have since been told that the reason we don't get to go inside either the official immigration building or the port police office, doors firmly kept shut, is due to the number of refugees inside... a bit of a reality check. The islands of the Docadonese are close to, and run along side, the coast of Turkiye).

Thanks to Hawkey Pokey's eagled-eyed weather-wise bird rescuers we were aware that our very first Meltemi would arrive in 2 days. Being a month short of time, we had to move on the next morning. Symi is a very very pretty, if slightly frantically busy place,  with a rich history of sponge diving, some outstanding bays and we could have spent many days exploring the island.  The sponge divers were tough, like Antonis Kampourakis, who free-dived until he was 72, and reached depths of 30 metres..  but to me more importantly, in 1863, a woman, Eugenia Mastoridis, was the first person to use a diving helmet to dive in Greece. Her husband Fotis had been working with divers in Europe as a diving engineer and tried to introduce the new equipment to Symi sponge divers. They were not convinced. So he turned to his wife and she put on his diving suit with helmet and plunged into the port of Symi. Not a diver, and pregnant. Outstanding. By 1863 the use of helmets  was spreading throughout the Docadonese, and numbers of divers using the equipment had reached 440 feet by 1864. 

Symi snapshots including statues of Antonis and Eugenia 

Leros, the island of Artemis apparently - the first place we stayed for a while, anchoring in deep protective Xirocampos Bay then moving to Pantelli Bay when the weather improved. It was also the first time we hired a car, and discovered just how bad a passenger I can really be - it's a tough gig for Mike. Even tougher when the gps insists what we are driving on is a road, not a dirt track through a quarry.  In Pantelli Bay we gazed upwards at the walls and Pantelios Castle (Kastro) and stunning white windmills nearby. The windmills are are common feature in the islands, but these have been restored particularly well. Doesn't hurt to have a cool breeze, a sunset and bar overlooking the sea... Next day we visited the Castle, a Byzantine Fortress from the 11th century, built on the ruins of an ancient acropolis. There are 2 small chapels inside the castle, one of which is the Church of Panayia, the Virgin Mary, originally built in 1669, and incredibly important to the citizens of Leros. It is tucked into the side of the castle, and you'd hardly know it was there.  We also toured the War Museum created inside the war tunnels near Merikia. From 1912 to 1943, Leros was under Italian control. In the 1930's the Italian's fortified the naval base of Leros, and built underground munitions storehouses and workshops. During the Battle of Leros the island underwent heavy bombardment by the Germans, and eventually lost that battle. The people of Leros returned from their hiding places in the island with only one thought - has the Church of Panayia survived? Unbelievably it was intact.  

The less lauded history of Leros is that is was used a place of incarceration by the military dictatorship between 1967-1974. In the 1950's a psychiatric hospital was built to accommodate the over-flow of patients from elsewhere in Greece; since 1989 these patients have been reintegrated into the community.  If we paid more attention while touring the isand by car, we would have noticed the buildings on the side of the bay in Lakki, which form a refugee camp. So, Leros has and is hosting some pretty desperate groups of people in its time. 

Patmos, the Ialand of Revelation - we managed to actually sail on our trip to Patmos - some days it's impossible and we have to motor most of the way - this time though unfortunately ending up with a jammed mainsail, which continues to plague us. One day we'll get it fixed...  We anchored near the port town of Skalo, in To Kyma Bay, just around the corner to avoid the the hussle, bussel (is that a word??) and wake of the ferries, lifelines of the islands. Patmos is such a pretty place. Cognizant of the weather we only stayed 2 days, but we tried as much as possible to get a feel of the island. We wandered through the sun filled meandering streets unsuccessfully ignoring the enticing shops and cafes.  

Mike considers his options..  

2 key sites are the Holy Monastery of St John the Theologian and Cave of the Apocalypse where John wrote the book of Revelations. The cave was, to be honest, a bit underwhelming, but is an important hsitorical or religious site regardless. Exiled by the Roman Emperor betweeen AD 81and 95, John made himself at home in a hillside cave where he wrote (or dictated) the last book of the bible, and his gospel. 1000 years later, the Byzantine Emperor granted title and land of the island to the monk Khristodoulos,  to buld a fortified hilltop monastery -  directly above the main temple to Artemis, thus establishing a Christian hold on the island.  A few sections of the monastery are open to the publc and are beautifully presented.  Of course, it's a bit of an upward hike, but well worth it. Such a pleasure exploring the inside with a cool breeze wafting around corners. There is also a well maintained and guarded musuem inside with intricate artistic and religious relics in glass cases. You know it's an important place when you see artworks and jewels gifted to the monasterty by Catherine II, aka Catherine the Great of Russia. 

And so we had finally embarked on our Greek adventure, next we head across the Agean, through the Cyclades.

Turkiye 2024, Pt 2. Journey Interruptus

To continue....   We woke up happy to be in Kekova ready for a day of relaxation. However, Mike always likes to combine down time with checking boat things, and so our day began with the discovery that our outboard engine for the dinghy - our car - wouldn't start. It obviously didn't enjoy leaving Karpaz Gate where it had been just dandy.

Street inside Oludeniz, village of Kekova

Bugger. Mike explored several possible problems without success, so we radioed across to our friends on Channel 68, regretfully informing them we had to move on that day, to get to Fethiye for expert help. 

Of course we hadn't taken into account who we were travelling with.... Ant from Impavidus is basically a one man expert on many things, if he can't fix it, it's seriously buggered. He had already arranged to assist Joe on Blue Eyes with his outboard that day, so if we stayed Mike was welcome to participate. Easy decision.  Joe picked Mike up and he zoomed across for Outboard Lesson 102 (Mike has passed Unit 101). When he returned he was full of enthusiasm to tackle parts of that engineering contraption which had jeered and mocked him before. He poked and shook and glared at parts called a carburettor (how would I know?) and within 30 minutes he said in wonder, I think I've fixed it, and there was a satisfying roar from the little black box. 

After a dinner onshore that night with all five boat crews, we made our farewell the next day and pushed on to Fethiye, as Mike had decided the outboard needed more than what he could achieve. We stopped at Bilal's Bay, near Kas for one night, before reaching Fethiye.

Now, we like Fethiye as a town - it has the best bookshop I could find in Turkey, right on the main seaside promenade, so what's not to like. Plus it's a pretty town, with good restaurants and facilities.  But the authorities, bureacracy, grab for money any 'ole how, and changes to permitted anchoring is making this a less welcoming place to be. Plus allocated anchoring site is quite shallow, with boats constantly dragging because they put a minimum of chain out. The water is filthy, I would even say - shitty. Add to this large gullets which ignore all smaller craft in every bay in Turkiye, particularly ones with a foreign flag, anchor or pass too close. So, fun not I am.  Unfortunately we had to stay several days to have the outboard professionally serviced (after identifying a few more issues). 

Commemoration of Ataturk, Youth and Sports Day

However, there's always a silver lining. This presented us with the opportunity to visit one of the two places we missed last year, the deserted village of Kayakoy.  You will recall, of course, me mentioning a wonderful book I read last year,  Birds without Wings by Louis de Bernieres,   a fictionalised account of the rise of modern Turkey, including the forced exchange of Christians (mostly Greeks) to Greece, and Muslims to Turkey in 1923. De Bernieres retold this tragic event through the eyes of the villagers, living in Kayakoy or similar villages, where Muslim Turks spoke Turkish but wrote in Greek (those that had been educated to write), Greeks also spoke Turkish and wrote in Greek, and where basically they lived harmoniously. Ignoring the massacres of Christians, Armenians and many other nationalities that occurred throughout history. After the defeat of Greece in the Greco-Turkish War the leaders of Turkey and Greece, Kemal and Venizelos, agreed to the 1922 Treaty of Lausanne, and to a forced population exchange of Christians and  Muslims. This exchange was not based on ethnicity but religious identity. But basically, it was a form of ethinc cleansing. 

Figures are hard to establish. Before 1914 between 1.8 and 2.1 million Greeks lived in Turkey. After 1923, it was estimated to be 300,000. 

Villagers from places like Kayakoy were given a few days notice, and then marched away from their homes, handing over house keys to their Muslim neighbours, asking them to look after their homes until they returned, weeping over who would look after the tombs of their loved ones. Many of these instant refugees died on the way. When the survivors arrived in Greece, they were not welcomed. The villages were now stripped of services and occupations handed down from one generation to the next, impacting the economic and social fabric of the village. And who could write for them now, the scholars who wrote Greek?

The national leaders had a vision that the recent arrivals would be welcomed and move into homes vacated by those who had been expelled. But the hillsides of Kayakoy are a ghostly, silent monument to the ridiculousness of national policies. 

At the base of the surrounding hills around Kayakoy you will find modern Turkish families, cafes, tourist attractions and expansive farms. But look up, and it's a startlingly different place. Hundreds of old crumbling houses and buildings rise upwards, paths and and streets now overgrown by 101 years of neglect. As we made our way upwards  we came across remnants of the past, fig trees and herbs. Some buildings features remained showing which had been inhabited by the wealthy, or just simple dwellings. It was very easy to imagine people calling out to their neighbours, walking these streets to conduct business or to the martkets.  We finally came across a road that has been cleared and repaired, and so Mike climbed up the hill to the Church (known as the High Church, as there is a smaller, well preserved church at the base of the village) on the peak, overlooking the village, while I sat in the shade and fanned myself, listening to the breeze ruffling the trees imagining this place alive. It was sad, but also very beautiful.

The Village of Kayakoy:

After finally getting the outboard back, visiting the chandlery, losing my hat, finding my hat, and being a a prisoner on board for 3 days after injuring my ribs (no dinghy trips for me), we waved goodbye to Chris and Sonia from Cut n Run and departed Fethiye as if we were on prisoner release. Please allow a little exaggeration... We pointed the bow in the direction of the Gocek Bays more than ready to really start our 2024 'season'.

To be correct, Gocek is a town across the Bay of Fethiye, but the area below that is loosely referred to by boaties as Gocek as well. This area is one of the outstanding sailing areas of Turkey, and I think possibly the Mediterranean. Like the Whitsundays, with many bays and islands to choose from, high sided hills plunging onto azure blue water, but without the sharks.

When we visited last year, we did not, unfortunately, have a very good time. We arrived just at the same time as the everlasting heatwave, also bringing with it our first wasps and man or woman-eating flies. The main drawback, as far as we are concerned, is that most the inlets and bays require 'lines ashore' anchoring, where an anchor is lowered at the front but a minimum of 2 lines are required to tie the back of the boat to bollards or rocks on shore. Some people are good at this, even fewer even like this arrangement, but in our case we'd rather not. To be polite. Our marriage isn't that strong, plus it ususally means being closer to the heat of the land and not able to have any cool breeze blow through your hatches.

This year we were determined to turn this around. We hunted for bays that we could anchor/swing free.  Plus the weather was much more kinder, the flies still asleep and the wasps not quite so alarming.

We stayed 2 nights at Inlice Halk Plaji (Beach). A big wide bay, with gray 'sand', beach umbrellas and deck chairs planted along the shore by the restaurant (a very loose description) ready for the summer's tourists. However, the wind was going to be picking up, so we needed to find a more protected spot. 

Luckily for us our friends Dave and Kate from SV Vakated who we met in Bozburun last year were in the area and suggested we meet up in Kapi Cove, where we could dock on a restaurant jetty. Oh, it was heaven on a stick! One of the prettiest bays we have seen. Dave and Kate have lived and sailed in Turkey for years, have almost the same boat as us,  and their knowledge of both have proven invaluable to us. They are also counted as friends by the proprietors of Kapi Creek, so we benefited from their connections while we were there. In the end, with Chris and Sonia also tied along side, we stayed 2 decadent nights, blame the weather. 

When we arrived Ismail claimed Kate as his second wife, them being ole friends n'all. Somehow on our second evening he promoted me from 3rd wife to first wife. I don't know how that happened but I was quick to tell him he wouldn't want me, I'm a bad cook and lazy in the mornings. I think he thought I was joking. We also managed a smallish walk over to the other side of the island, past the small village and the smallest mosque we have seen, to take in the amazing view over the sea.

My Turkish husband, Ismail

Ismail, Dave, Mike and Kate. 

Kapi Cove

Then the weather calmed down, and with water tanks full, boat washed down, we had no more excuses, so we left mini-paradise and decided to attempt lines ashore in a bay not far from Ruin Bay, to see some underwater ruins - perhaps the most sought after site in Gocek. Our 2 attempts to do so in cross winds were, to say the least, unsuccessful, so we found a good anchorage in Kille Koyu, a bay with playgrounds, beach activities and restaurant on shore. Dave and Kate had already arrived, and they explained that when they first visited this bay, none of the infrastructure existed,  it was all completely natural. Kinda blew my mind.

Kille Koyu

Cut N Run in Kille Koyu

During these hedonistic days, we kept up with the family back home. Jess was finally scheduled for 2 medical procedures she'd been waiting a long time for, but there was no way she would be able to manage with an 8 month old baby. So it was decided that I needed to return to Perth to help for a couple of weeks.  We planned a day's sail up to Marmaris, then I could catch a bus to Dalaman Airport.  Or sail to Gocek, so I could catch catch a bus to Dalaman Airport ... wait, that's just crazy, there must be a better way. The Dalaman airport is just over the hills from where we are. The Mayor and Mayoress (D&K) came to our rescue again with their knowledge of the area and a better plan was hatched. So we had a lovely sail around to Sarsala Kucuk, another perfect jetty location, with an expensive restaurant.

Stunning Sarsala Kucuk

I finished packing my bag, had dinner in preparation for my journey next day. At 9.30am the restaurant owner arrived in his tender, loaded us up and zoomed around the corner to Sarsala Bay, where a taxi (I'm sure this was a relative) was waiting to take me over the hills to the airport - a mere 20 minute drive. As I held on for dear life while we careened around the switchback road hoping I didn't crack even more ribs, I looked down at the receding bay to see Mike whizzing back to the boat to continue on without me. 1 boat, 1 taxi and 3 planes later I arrived back in Perth, and ended up staying for a month.

As I looked back over Gocek, Mike disappeared round the first point on the right

On the other side, a freshwater lake

Mike stayed an extra night at Sarsala Kucuk and then his solo adventure began, firstly a day's sail to Marmaris, the boat-works capital of Turkey. There he made some serious upgrades to Kirrikie; the first biggie was changing our batteries to lithium with a new inverter. This has made a huge difference to life onboard, not having to run the engine to back up the solar input. Mike facetimed me to show off - look, I can turn on the toaster! And the kettle, annnnndddd the microwave!  Next was having a custom-made boom tent - basically an awning that goes over the boom and is secured to the boat, to provide shade. This has also greatly  improved our life, it can be up to 10 degrees cooler with it up. 

Kirrikie's new cooler, hipper look

Mike kept himself busy, occasionally catching up with friends who sailed into the bay, but it was a lonely time. While he was waiting for works to be completed he revisited some old haunts such as Ciftlik Koyu and Bozzukale where he dealt with strong winds and idiots in other boats, plus new places such as the Cliffs of Amos. 

Cliffs of Amos, and, Bozzukale

It takes a new set of skills to handle a boat without any assistance, lowering or raising the anchor or docking without someone helping with steering or throwing lines. And while I appreciated the mild winter temperatures in a carpeted home, Mike was dealing with the first heatwave of the year, getting above 40 degrees. No wonder it took me a month to return (and oh, Kanoa is so darn cute, it was a wrench to leave).

Mike catching up with mates...

... and me with my Buddy

But finally I did return, it was a mere 37 degrees when I arrived, loving what he had achieved and both of us itching to get going, check out of Turkey and sail into Greek waters.

Our Journey in this blog: