Shakedown sail - Finike to Marmaris

 At approximately 7.30pm on Sunday 7th May, Sulyman the Magnificent sealed the last zipper on our shade and summer enclosure. We clapped, and grinned at each other. At last we could leave Finike. At least til we return in June...

For those not familiar, a shakedown sail or cruise is the one where you venture out to test your boat repairs/additions so that you can make final tweaks. We had always planned to head to Marmaris, approximately 112nm from Finike, as soon as we could to get some assistance with rigging, sails and other work not achievable, or too expensive, in Finike. Marmaris is one of THE places to go in the Med to fix, modify, purchase anything for boats (as long as you don't want to import anything, in which case, give up). But first, we had to get there. We had one working sail, a dodgy engine, or propeller (not sure), and a loo and a bilge pump that were causing us some angst to put it mildly, but in Mike's infamous words, what could possibly go wrong. 

We left on Monday 8th, on time (!!) heading for Kekova, the area we had stayed at before 19nm's away. We had given ourselves a week to reach Marmaris so we could explore a few new areas, and take shelter from strong winds later in the week. To head from east along this coastline means mostly motoring because there's no wind or right on the nose winds. As we had unpleasant weather ahead, we had to use the 'iron sail' most of the trip to keep on track, but it was pleasant enough to be out, and inititally, the prop seemed to be working ok.

Kirrikie in Kekova, UK flag on the back, Turkish flag starboard, and Aussie flag on the portside. Sunshades on the side and back can be rolled up.

(Note: we have a Gori folding prop, which can be the bees knees but also a bit tricky. Don't ask me to explain it properly, but it can be put into 'overdrive' so that it pushes the boat further for less fuel, but ours was playing up. Mike has dived on it cleaned it, manipulated it and replaced anodes, and it seemed to be ok when we left....)

Info on our propeller

The area around Kekova has been described as the Turkish Whitsundays, and it is. Except with castles, ruins, small restaurants and the pushy we'll-pretend-you're-not-there tourist gullets. The sun was shining, and it was a beautiful day to be gliding past Simena Kalesi, or castle, before entering the inlet to the sheltered bay near Kaleucagiz, our first stop. As is our norm, we bickered about where to put the anchor, which is pathetic as there was plenty of room with no boats close to the end of the bay.  

Simena Kalesi. No sign of any dragons..

We might have been a little tense, as during the day the bloody bilge pump kept going off. The problem was, once the float was activated it wouldn't re-set, so this required us pulling apart the seat near the table, lifting the small floorboard, grabbing the float tool nearby - a pair of metal tongs - and folding myself in half to reach down and give the bloody thing a good talking to while tapping the float so it bobbed up. It got quite repetitive after a while. The other issue was that it was fresh water in the bilge. Where was it coming from?? It has been a problem for a while, which we were expecting to fix in Marmaris, but now it was a more serious issue as the pump was going off more reguarly. To make it even worse, we couldn't get water from the starboard water tank - had we just lost 300l (50% of our water supply)?

Well, this is fun...

Where did I put that thingy?

Water tanks under our bed

  So here we were in paradise, pulling the boat apart including our bed, following all the hoses, checking for leaks. Opening up the inspection hatch on the starboard water tank expecting to see dregs at the bottom we discovered it was completely full. 

  What The?? The impossible was happening, we were generating our own water, which was draining into the bilge... I would have preferred it to be wine filling the fridge. Mystery unsolved, bed and boat put back into place, bilge pump temporarily asleep, we escaped and headed off to the nearby village for a drink. Or two. 

  We headed into one of the few places we could leave a dinghy, in front of Hassan's restaurant. Tucked into small bays along the coastline are family run restaurants that help with mooring and docking, with the understanding that you will have a meal in their restaurant. Hassan the Gallant, waved us in, and helped haul me out of the dinghy. I think Mike had ordered his drink before placing a foot on solid ground. We blew the budget on a excellent meal of meze, calamari, sea bream and prawns, chatted to Bjorn who we knew from Finike, solved all the problems of the world except ours, before exploring the tiny village and returning to Kirrikie for a great nights sleep.

Punctuated by jumping up to swear and attack the bilge...

Bjorn advising...

The next day we headed to the town of Kas (pronounced Kash), a small distance of 16nm, where we ignored the beckoning marina, motored around the corner and put the anchor down in the early afternoon at Bilal's Beach.  It. Was. Stunning. It was the first time we really couldn't believe "we are HERE"!  There were nearby small restaurants and accommodation that were still gearing up for 'the season', lots of cleaning, welding, drilling going on - and hell to health and safety - but none of that took away the magic we felt that afternoon. We went ashore to explore, thinking we would investigate some tombs in the cliffs above us, but a) Mike was in thongs, the footwear type, b) I am heat and slope advserse unless I have my walking poles with me and c) there were cool drinks to be had in the bar.  So we piked out.

On our way back we headed over to SV Ula for a very welcome cuppa and chat with Dee and Kev, other ex-Finikieans, with the luxury of no fixed plans and plenty of time. And working water-maker and loos. Perfect.

The thing about Kas that amazes me is that it is one of the places where the Greek/Turkish border is very close to mainland Turkey. Part of our route planning was to ensure we went the correct side of rocks to avoid crossing into Greek Territory. The Greek island of Kastellorizo, where we shall be meeting up with my sister and brother-in-law in a few weeks, is closer to Kas than Rottnest Island is to Perth. Mind blowing.

While we were tempted to stay longer, we pointed Kirrikie back out to sea again on Wednesday morning, to make the longer journey of 53nms to Fethiye. It was indeed a longer day, our 3rd with the engine on, and while I appreciated this meant hot water showers, I was a little grumbly about not putting the sail up. We tried several times, in conditions which were not favourable, only succeeding at the end of the day for about 20 minutes before we rounded the headland and headed for the anchorage of Fethiye South Bay. Very well protected, this was to be our sanctuary for 3 days, while outside strong winds from the west howled, preventing us from moving further.

I'm gonna be straight up - I loved Fethiye. A very pretty town/city much larger than I expected, quite touristy, but in my mind just lovely. I had recently finished reading 'Birds without Wings' by Louis de Bernieres (thank you Betty x) which is set in this area of Turkey, covering the collapse of the Ottoman empire, including the battles at Gallipoli. I can't recommend it highy enough. Many towns or cities are referred to by the name they were before the country was, as described elsewhere, torn apart by "the twin scourges of religion and nationalism". The author often referred to a city called Telmessos, which is now known as Fethiye. As legend tells it, Telmessos is the son (or sons, just to throw in a dollop of legendary confusion) of the God Apollo. Telmessos means land of lights. Sadly this name was replaced in the 10th century by the greek Makri or Mekri, which became Megri until 1934, when it was renamed Fethiye in honour of one of the first Turkish pilots, Captain Fethi Bey, who died in 1914 when his plane crashed during at attempt to fly from Istanbul to Cairo. 

Fethiye has also experienced a few disastrous earthquakes, in 1957 when 90% of the city was destroyed, and two more in 1969 and 2011. Poor Turkey. 

We filled our days exploring the town, watching the antics of other boats and the massive pirate-themed gullets, relaxing just bit and taking advantage of the facilities of the nearby marina. Bluntly, if the shower doors ain't locked, I'm gunna use 'em. And the toilets, because it had become clear to us that our loo with the blackwater tank just wasn't working properly. Now, you can get help from marine electricians, riggers, carpenters, engineers, sailmakers, upholsterers, refridgerator and airconditioning experts, stainless steel workers.... anything but a marine plumber. No money in the world is worth taking that one on. So we, or in reality Mike, were alone with this one. Unfortunately for you, more on that to come later.

While floating around near Fethiye Mike had a brainwave. After pulling apart the back half of the boat, he finally found a slow but persistent leak coming from a fitting to the water heater. Ahhh-Ha!! he shouted. This leak wound it's way under the engine to a small hose not in the boat schematics, that led to the bilge. Our freshwater leak. Or at least, part of of it. We added that to the growing list of items that we needed to fix when we got to Marmaris. Since we had moved onto the boat there seemed to a never ending issue with pumps and leaks.

Finally, on Sunday morning, the weather outside improved as predicted, we up anchored - crossing our fingers that we hadn't become snagged on the long anchor chain of a gullet, like two boats we had seen do, and made the slow journey to Marmaris, 49nm away. And it was slow. We had to be at Marmaris to move into the Setur Marina next day, so no pottering or sailing for fun. The goring prop was playing up badly, clanking and shuddering underfoot, refusing to change out of overdrive, while at the same time reaching a maximum of 1100rpms and but only a speed of 3.4 knots, often dropping to less than 2knots, so basically not making any headway against building winds and waves. We decided we could try tacking across the open water closer to Marmaris, away from an island and military zone. Up went our one sail, with some brute force at the front from Mike as it wouldn't come all the way out without help - another problem on the list. As I tried to helm as close as I could to the wind in 22 knots without going too far away from where we were trying to be, I had to admit this was my come-uppance for wanting to sail. Tack back. The the wind started to change direction and die away, and it became a challenge between me and the dwindling wind to try to inch forward, with the help of our lagging engine. There were no other places to shelter in the conditions we had, we had to get to Marmaris. We finally reached the smaller bay between towering hills that was the beginning of the final approach to Marmaris. Time to put the sail away, motor on, we're almost there. 

And bingo, a howling 34 knots on the nose, trying to push us backwards. We struggled on, finally getting up to 3 knots again, just enough to make slow progress. Marmaris is set in a huge picturesque round bay, and once we passed through the small entrance, all became peaceful and welcoming. At 7.50pm we let down our anchor close to the marina, sighed with relief, and reached for the beer and gin.

We had a great week, but now we looked forward to a week of fixing things with the help of some professionals. Phew!

The lights of Kas

Part 2 - The Ancient City of Olympos

 After ascending and descending Mt Olympos to view the Eternal Flames, it was on to lunch at the seaside village of Cirali and then the ruins of Olympos.

Eucalyptus to make us homesick

Malia aka Betty showing me how to train local cats

Cirali reminded me very much of the small seaside towns in Victoria and NSW, with many services shut and waiting for the summer influx of tourists. As Cirali is located in the Beydaglari Coastal National Park, nestled next to beach and surrounding hills, there are development limitiations, so no big tourist resorts or buildings, but many small BnB and bunglows planted in windy dirt roads. Plenty of cafes, tour operators and small shops. Perfect for backpackers and families wanting some down time with the option of land or sea-based activities (I should be getting paid for this..). 

An important part of the national park is the 3 kilometre long beach, which is an important breeding ground for Caretta caretta - loggerhead sea turtles. Ecological tourism helps protect these turtles, and the beach is punctuated by large poles, marking out turtle nests.

After our lunch in a small cafe, we drove half way up the beach and naively I suggested we could walk from there to the southern end of the beach to see Olympos, ignoring Ian's comments that we would have to cross a small stream. How hard could it be?

The sand of this beach is described somewhere as fine-grained sand. Pffff - the 'walk' was mostly a case of ankle wrenching wobbles over course-grained sand held in place by large pebbles evolving into small rocks. Very Crunchy. We came to small stream coursing out of the hills and onto the beach. In reality it wasn't that bad, but certainly there was no way around getting your feet wet - if you're 5 foot nothing. As I tackled this part, a very helpful dog came bounding and therefore splashing up to me to give me encouragement. Wonderful. Why didn't I listen to Ian, and we drive around the village a couple of Ks to get to the site the correct way??

But it was worth it. Walking along we looked along the beautiful beach, imagining a moored boat in the corner, and then spying a castle on the cliffs above us. I was suitably impressed, thinking this was Olympos itself. I was wrong - again.

The Acropolis/Castle - full points to Malia for getting this shot looking up into the sun in poor light

Passing the cliff we turned right onto a boardwalk next to the Akcay Stream and immediately ooohed and ahhed over some sarcophagi in the rock next to us.

Detail of the tomb of Captain Eudomos

The City of Olympos has a varied and chequered history, and to be honest, I'm not sure how to sum it up. Olympos is situated in a small valley between towering hills next to a small river/stream. It was re-discovered only relatively recently, and at times we were aware we were wandering on uneven pathways which were without doubt on undiscovered buldings or tombs. In fact there is no record of Olympos after the 15th century, it was left to succumb to the forces of nature and became overgrown.

Looking up at the Acropolis from within the site

It is thought The City was founded in the 3rd century, with a sarcophogus and wall dated idenitifed as 4th century BC. It became an important city of the Lycian League - one of the big six -  and minted it's own coins at the end of the 2nd century BC. Then it became so big it started minting it's own coins, separate from the league.  And this is because the city had become a city of pirates ... there's the plot twist you were waiting for.

Due to it's sheltered position, the pirate Zekenites had taken control of the City and was the scourge of the Mediterrean for quite a while. His reign came to an end in 78BC, when it was captured by the Roman commander, Servilius Isauricis and his off-sider, Julius Caesar. Death was better than capture though, so Zekenites set fire to his own house and perished in the flames.

Olympos then became part of the Roman Empire, at one time re-named Hadrianopolis after a visit by the Emperor Hadrian. The remains include a theatre, acropolis, roman walls, a bath house and many sarcophogi.  Mike was particuarly interested in one attributed to Marcus Aurelius, until Ian informed us that Marcus Aurelius was a very common name, and it might as well have been Bill Smith. 

PS I pinched these photos from Malia

Sometime in the 3rd century, Olympos became a bishopry, so some of the ancient ruins include Christian buildings and churches. Although no longer a residential bishopry Olympos is still registered as a titular see. Apparently that means it is a dead diocese. I would have thought it's time to let it go...

The Australian Tax Office is everywhere 

Fortified window of the ruins of a chapel

What is left of a bathhouse, tantilising unaccessible over the river

It was such a full day, we finally left in the dying hours of the day, and since my phone camera battery was simply exhausted, I have pinched a couple of Malia's photos - she with a real camera, 2 phones and some talent - including this one of the bathhouse, and the one below of an old crone left behind by a previous civilisation. If you're interested in a better explanation and photos, please read Malia's blog of the same outing.

Sailing Longo Mai