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: