Our little ship sails on the alley-alley oh!

The end of of our sailing season, and trip home to see our family and await the arrival of baby Kanoa, was fast approaching.  With good advice from new friends we had made the decision some months earlier to leave Kirrikie in North Cyprus/TRNC* while we returned to Australia.  The marina at Karpaz Gate is relatively new with good facilities, and quite a few people we knew would be staying on site, so it was an easy decision for us to go there. 

The distance we needed to cover was 240 nautical miles as the seagull flies. If we averaged 5 nautical miles per hour,  we expected to take about 48hours, given the conditions forecast. We had enough fuel to motor approximately 200nm if needed,  but that is expensive, boring and noisy. And the biggie for us was that this would be our first, proper overnight sail. Or two nights. A very fast night sail over to Rottnest a couple of years ago, purely a training exercise, could not really be considered a true night passage. So this trip was something I had been looking forward to, and was also nervous about. For Mike of course it was the big ticket item he had been waiting impatiently for all year. 

The only deadlines we had were our flight from Istanbul on the 8th of September, and the availability of our winter berth in Karpaz Gate from 1st September. This gave us a really good opportunity to pick our departure times, and where to leave from. We had been leisurely making our way back east since celebrating Mike's birthday in Kusadasi in July, and at the last minute decided to forgo returning to Finike, and leave from Kas instead. This would add about 30 nms to our trip, but a rare combination of Blue Moon and Supermoon was due to occur on August 30th -31st, and this would be an amazing way to experience our first nights on the ocean, so we decided not to miss that opportunity.

Checking out of a country is a bit different to buying chips in the supermarket, or dare I say it, a grabbing a book in the library, but in Turkiye you need to pay an agent to get you through the paperwork. Having decided to checkout on Thursday, Mike went off to discuss what was required with our agent. Came back to me happily informing that it was all sorted, we would move to the customs dock and checkout first thing on Wednesday morning. Say what??? A full 24 hours before what was agreed?  I mean, I had shopping to do! After some "discussion" we decided to stick to this arrangement, and therefore we had a hurried day getting all our ducks in row.

Next morning we followed our jetty neighbours, who were heading to Israel, to the customs and fuel dock, where other boats were gathering. Thinking we had a wait to come, we were waved in ahead and escorted by the marinaros to a clear spot on the dock. Seems our lazy,  'we'll hire the first agent we see' approach was a good one. The agent went through our paperwork again, found a problem, got it sorted while we waited for the customs officer to arrive. Tick tick tick...  he finally sauntered in wearing casual clothes and spent quite a while making all his stamps were set and inked. Bang Bang bang. It seems that all Turkish officials are wanna-be pre-1980s librarians in disguise. But then it was a quick procedure for stamp-stamping our documents, and suddenly, we were no longer living in Turkiye.  Then it was time for a fuel top-up, and farewell to the Aussies on their way to Israel and get out of town...

... and sail 17nm down the coast to Kekova where we planned to really really cross our hearts leave the next day. There was a small risk that a coast guard boat might possibly stop by and question why we were not making our way out of Turkish waters. I of course decided that it was okay for us to go ashore to have our last dinner out, Mike was fully convinced this was madness and did I want to hear about the birth of our grandson while I was in a Turkish jail cell????

We had dinner onshore,  at Hassan's.  

Our final night in Turkiye

Sailor's hats decorating Hassan's restaurant 

One more for the collection

It was all going well, and I was just about to say to Mike, see you were worried about nothing, and Woop Woop the coast guard boat appeared outside the jetty area. Round it went around the bay, and then came in - I was seriously contemplating what was our best escape route - back through the kitchen, would Hassan cover for us, would our dinghy tied up in front of the restaurant give us away?? Luckily, it was Victory Day in Turkiye. The guards had celebrations to go to, so checked out the rah-rah boat that was playing the victory day song, secured their vessel, turned off the lights and departed. Thank you Allah.

We were the only boat in the anchorage and so we spent a leisurely morning swimming in between preparing Kirrikie for our adventure, feeling very relaxed and privileged to have such a nice last day in Turkiye.

Farewell Turkiye - gliding past Simena Kalesi

We departed earlier than originally planned, about 1pm, hoping to motor out and be in the right area when a 15kn westerly wind would hit our starboard quarter (you can hear Mike telling me this, can't you)  and blow us east-south-east to Cyprus. It sort of worked, but the wind turned out to be 25kn which produced a larger side-on swell, making for a wilder ride than we would have liked as the sun set. I kept 'enquiring' as to the height of the waves, with Mike informing me that they were 1-2 metres only. Mike did admit finally that some were now close to 3 metres, and perhaps the earlier ones were higher than he'd thought. Fortunately though, as the light faded the wind dropped and the conditions eased.

Kirrikie was handling the conditions well, we were safe, and that was the main thing. We worked out what shifts would work for us - no, you can't stop and anchor for the night - with me doing 10pm to 2am, and Mike doing 2am to 6am, and swapping again. We would try to get some short sleep each before then, and again throughout the day.

The first night, from my perspective, did not go well.  Mike had reefed both sails, secured the boom to prevent an accidental gybe, and the genoa was set to portside. Despite managing to travel 6-7knots the wind was fickle; everytime the boat rocked with the swell, the genoa would lose a bit of air, deflate a little, fill up and so on, causing the lines to slacken and tighten with an oomph smacking noise. Drove me insane. But it was lovely being out on the water, with the moon up, checking around for other marine traffic or shipping containers every 10 minutes or so, listening to a podcast and knowing we were on our way way, however slowly with the reducing wind strength. 

I was just starting to yawn when Mike relieved me, having slept fitfully during my shift. Him, I mean. Aahhh I said as I lay down in the rocking rear portside berth. 4 hours sleep  to come. And Bang Bang, the oomph smack noise was now a banging sound inside the boat. I gritted my teeth and tried to sleep. I was just about there, when Mike came in and told me the batteries needed for the navigation equipment might need topping up and he was going to motor for a couple of hours. Turn on the engine. Right next to my head. I think I said something rude. 

I relocated to the half size saloon table seat and rolled around on that for 1 1/2 hours. The engine went off, and I finally crawled back into the berth. And then Mike told me the wind had dropped off so much the engine had to go back on. I was so exhausted I muttered something appropriate and actually went to sleep.

Up I bounded 2 hours later in a zesty mood at 6am! Not. But I did report for duty satisfied we had made it through our first night in one piece, no murder had been committed, and ready to appreciate the lovely day to come.

We now encountered very light winds for the rest of the trip, requiring much Jibeing (like a tack but wind behind you) backwards and forth. But the swell had lessened to a more comfortable pattern and we could play with different sail settings. Much to our delight we raised our spinnaker, perfect for the light winds we were experiencing and gradually closed the gap between us and Karpaz Gate Marina. 

Interrupting our serenity was the Pan Pan call put out periodically by the Cypriot Coast Guard over the VHF radio. Sometime during our first night there had been a collision between 2 vessels, and a man was lost overboard. During that day and the next, we could hear the coast guard contacting "all vessels" in the area, asking them to keep a lookout. We were outside the nominated search area for most of the trip,  but as we approached Cyprus, we crossed the northern extent of the search area. As the Pan Pan calls were ongoing, we increased our lookout but nothing was sighted except for a plastic drum on Mike's watch. (Pan Pan is one level down from Mayday Mayday; Pan Pan is urgent but not life-threatening, Mayday is for life-threatening situations).

We had travelled about two thirds of the way when our second night approached. It had taken us longer due to the zig-zag path we had had to adopt to chase the wind, refusing to motor. Our second night was a vastly different experience. We had furled our mainsail, allowing the genoa (headsail) to catch as much breeze as possible, it was easier for me to adjust and tack as required while Mike was off-shift. The sun set behind us, the full moon continued hung like a beacon in the sky, the slight breeze was warm, the motion of the ocean was comfortable.... perfection. 

Our second day was beautiful. We continued our attempts to travel by sail alone. We stopped briefly for a swim in 2000 feet of water with nothing around us at all. Apart from the black shape swimming towards me just as a I got in, with Mike yelling .... it was a black plastic bag, but definitely an uncomfortable way to check your heart is working.

Finally, after may hours of watching the coastline of Cyprus get closer and then further as we gybed and gybed again, we capitulated and put away the sails and turned the motor on. Just in time, as the marina staff contacted us -  when were we arriving? the customs staff were due to go home as it was a Saturday. With a sense of achievement we lowered the Turkish flag and raised the new flag of TRNC. Not long later we turned Kirrikie left, behind the marina wall and our adventure was over.

But what an arrival. Three or four staff were waiting, shouting  "Welcome welcome" as we got closer, guiding us to the customs dock. Incredibly friendly and solicitous, guiding us through the check-in and legalities in the hot sun, before we untied and moved to Kirrikie's winter berth. The Manager then greeted us and oversaw the marinaros while adjusting the dockside cleats, moving a boat next to us to improve the gap between the two hulls, checking everything was ok before finally clocking off for the day. 

As for us, it all felt a bit unreal in a good way. We said hi to our pontoon neighbours, the lovely Tina and Dave, ex-Finikians who new the marina well, and who quickly told us when happy hour was. Excellent.

After tidying up we went to check out the facilities. As we discovered these facilities included several blissful things, and I'm not sure what was best - the washing and drying machines, the indoor coolwater lap pool, the beach club and outdoor pool, or the 3 hour happy hour, every night with a great restaurant about 100 metres from our boat. So after tidying up Kirrikie we cooled off in the indoor pool and headed off to happy 'hour'. What a fantastic way to arrive in another country. 

We had another 4 days at Karpaz Gate preparing the boat so it would be safe and hopefully cockroach free while we are absent,  before flying to Istanbul for 2 nights, then it was off back home to hug our family. And start rocking a baby. But first, I watched Kanoa being born.... amazing. Waaay better than a Supermoon... 💖

*North Cyprus is actually the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, or TRNC.  The history is somewhat contentious:  inhabited by both Greeks and Turks, in 1974 Greece attempted to annexe the island. Turkey appealed to the international community for help, without effect, so they decided to invade. This resulted in the eviction of Greek Cypriots from the north, and with Turkish Cypriots fleeing from the south, and the island became divided. A neutral buffer zone controlled by the United Nations still separates the island. In 1983 the north declared its independence, but as it is not recognised by any other nation it relies heavily on Turkey for economic and military support. Crossing the border can be be complicated if you are not a Cypriot national. Point in case, a Turkish Cypriot can cross and return without problem, but a Turkish resident cannot. From our perspective, it may be a safe haven but it's also a no-man's land - we cannot sail on from TRNC without checking back into Turkey first, and we definitely cannot go into Greek waters from TRNC - as far as they are concerned we will have been in occupied territory.