Feeling Sorry for Myself

It has been very wet

I’m on bedrest.

I was already a bit stir crazy from the, shall we say, inclement weather of the last couple of days. So when it brightened up this morning I was actually looking forward to the short walk into town and a bit of a shop to top up our diminishing food supplies. I got as far as the footbridge out of the marina.

More concerned about puddles and the distinct possibility of more rain, the bridge didn’t strike me as any sort of hazard. The next thing I knew, though, my left foot was sliding forward and my posterior heading for the floor with my right leg twisted under me. The pain even cancelled out the embarrassment and soggy bottom.

My ankle bone isn’t normally that size!

When the endorphins kicked in Neil helped me up and back to the boat. Pretty confident that  nothing is broken, I’m still watching the foot swell up and it’s probably​ going to develop pretty colours over the next few days. Getting on and off the boat is now a non starter. Just as it’s brightening up.

 

 

 

 

 

Grubbing About on Board

I didn’t write much once we returned to Spain in January or at all during the month we spent back in the UK afterwards. There just didn’t seem to be very much to say, to be honest. But now we’re back on the boat I thought I’d better get my finger out.

A very welcome site to wake up to – view from our hotel room

It was only this morning that we came aboard, having indulged in the luxury of a night in a hotel. Neither of us begrudge it, though. The thought of having to somehow access a bed on the boat after a late arrival and a long day of traveling was beyond daunting. You see, when a boat is “put away” for the winter, left to cope with the inevitable bad weather and potential consequences, a lot of work is involved.

Anything that the wind could get hold of – sails, dinghy,  bimini (provides shade in the summer) as well all the loose items like buckets, brushes and soft furnishings have to be stowed below. A cold, unventilated interior is asking to be affected by damp so anything that might go mouldy needs to be protected, usually by wrapping them in plastic bags, and moved away from the walls. These all have to go somewhere and every bit of space is utilised including the floor of the heads (bathroom) and the beds.

If the boat is to be lifted out onto the land every item that might either break or cause damage has to be secured in some way. Electricity is disconnected, water tanks emptied and the toilet flushed through with chemicals to clean the pipes and holding tank.

Neil let’s down the bathing platform so we can board from the pontoon

From all this you can probably gather that the boat is pretty much uninhabitable without a lot of work to put it all back together. Mostly dirty, back-breaking work at that. Bruises, cuts and​ broken fingernails are all par for the course. Even doing the minimum late at night is not to be recommended.

 

So that has been our day today. There’s still a lot of cleaning and provisioning to be done but we’ve both had enough for the time being. It’s T-shirt weather, at least for now, and it’s wonderful to ditch the shoes and get out the flip flops. Plus a little drink is called for. 

The “Top End” of Kefalonia

With settled weather forecast for the next few days, we took the chance to go to the small harbour of Assos. Not many cruising boats go in there, mainly because it is open to the prevailing wind and can easily become untenable. Even with light winds a noticeable swell came in. The other problem is the quay’s rocky galaxy that prevents most sailing boats from mooring close enough in to get ashore without the using their dinghy.

Having said all that, Assos may well be the prettiest location in the Ionian. A ruined castle guards the entrance with a delightful paved and shady walk up to it. From here the narrow bridge-like strip of land that is all that separates the harbour from the open sea is clearly visible and the beautiful little village sparkles in the morning light, glows as the sun goes down. With limited space for tourists to stay, it still attracts those with cars from other resorts on the island so the quality tavernas flourish in season. Long may it stay that way but I have my doubts.

Neil, visiting some 30 years ago once called our next stop, Fiscardo, the prettiest place he’d ever soon. Even a few years ago it used to be a firm favourite of ours despite being generally more expensive than even the touristic prices of other Ionian resorts. Then, we used to prefer to tie long lines to the shore opposite the quay and away from the mania that would develop as the popularity of the harbour soared. That ended when we returned on Desi to experience the late arrivals dropping dragging anchors between narrow spaces and with only enough rope to take one line ashore. The inevitable result was them leaning on us putting pressure on our own anchor before ploughing it up completely if the wind got up.

Still, hearing that the quay tended to be quieter at the weekend, we thought we’d give that a go. Despite a flotilla now having made it it their base and monopolising swaithes of the quay, we were still able to get on in quite a good location. Yes, the massive tripper boats all came racing in at lunchtime, the loudest just one space away from us but they didn’t stay long and the regular ferries weren’t a problem.

No, it was that single space that became a problem along with the one on the other side of us when the flotilla went out the following day. Into these spaces came the Skippered Charters With the exception of catamarans these are among the biggest sailing boats out there, all usually with a single skipper doing everything himself while the passengers largely stand by unable or unwilling to help. These skippers are also among the most arrogant sailors it has been our misfortune to come across. They expect every other boat to make room for them yet are reluctant to budge an inch themselves when another obnoxious ****  comes ramming in.

I admit I lost it. I got so worked up it can’t have been good for my blood pressure as poor little Desi was being squeezed between them as one in particular, attached to the flotilla, refused to wait a minute longer as everyone was trying to move over. I’ve been left with the overwhelming feeling that I never want to go to Fiscardo again. Neil is more forgiving so we’ll see.

East Coast of Kefalonia

We didn’t get the planned meal out that night in Ay Eufemia. With more rain forecast and the outboard’s unproven reliability we just didn’t want to take the risk. Maybe we’ll give it another go later in the season. Maybe.

You see we much preferred our next stop of Sami. The harbour master was friendly and efficient, cycling around the full length of the harbour to make sure he was there to direct crews to where he wanted them to go and to help them in. He’d even advise about where to drop the anchor although some preferred to take no notice – yes, I’m talking about you Mr Skippered Charter!

And there was none of this business of reserving whole stretches of quay for the flotillas. It was first come first served. Those arriving later were likely to end up on the less than ideal outer section where the wind and swell, not to mention the regular arrival and departure of ferries. Inside, however, made the strong breeze extremely pleasant and the swell was virtually non existent. There’s a charge, of course, but not unreasonable.

Sami bay in the early morning light.

The town itself also proved to be welcoming with a couple of excellent (for Greece) and decently priced supermarkets as well as a good selection of tavernas and bars. We also found ourselves walking along the quiet roads roads shortly after sunrise to be greeted by views over the bay as well as the scant remains of a castle. There’s also an acropolis signposted but I don’t think we ever found it. I say “think” as there isn’t much left of that either but it was very pleasant searching.

Not much else left of the castle

The next stop down the coast is Poros and that was where we headed next. We’d attempted to go there in Seren Môr but had made a swift exit when the depth gage showed the non-existent water under her keel. We were more confident with Desi’s shallower draft and the fact that friends had made it without difficulty. We needn’t have worried, though, as the harbour has obviously been dredged and much bigger boats than ours came in. Like last time, though, there was virtually no one around to assist us in. We were very fortunate that a shore-based couple with a bit of sailing experience happened to be passing otherwise it would have been ‘The Leap of Death’ on to the high quayside. Of the harbour master there was no sign. Until he wanted his money that evening, of course.

I only got to see the main area of Poros before the sun got too high or after it set .

Poros isn’t a resort that has sprung up around the harbour. The main tourist area is alongside the beach, accessed along a short but fairly steep road (with a noteworthy pavement) followed  by steps down to the promenade. We didn’t get to see it during the day, however as the most memorable thing about our stay for me was the heat that just seemed to hit you as soon as the engine was turned off, radiating up from the concrete expanse outside the cockpit. This is an access road for the ferry traffic which the lorries wanting to board often take at speed, as though they’re going to leap onto the ferry before the ramp is lowered.

All in all, an anchorage seemed like a good idea after that. We’d spotted a bay which had appealed on the way to Poros but ended up in a completely different one. This beach at this one was completely inaccessible by road but still had a small drinks shack. As, again, one by one all the other boats disappeared, the owners boarded their own, leaving us alone. Alone, that is, until the tripper boat turned up. Thankfully, they didn’t stay long. A late arrival that tied onto the rocks a short distance away meant we still didn’t get the bay completely to ourselves but a pretty good result.

Heading home

Outboards

Are outboards ​the bain of every liveaboard’s lifestyle? Certainly, I’ve read several blog posts bemoaning them and they all too frequently become the subject of cockpit discussions​. The dinghy is such an essential part of our boating existence, the car of the dirt dweller but with a far less reliable engine. Not only that, the engine has to be heaved on and off the boat, a task that is either back breaking or involves some sort of, often precarious, pulley system.

We thought we’d cracked it though. When we bought Desi a lovely little dinghy was included along with its outboard which happened to be electric. We’d never actually seen an electric outboard before and had certainly not considered buying one. A little wary at first, we were rapidly converted. Light to handle and with more than enough power, it also had the advantage of being rechargeable via either the mains electricity in the marinar or using the solar panels – free power! No more reliance on smelly petrol or carrying/storing noxious containers. Win, win. Until now.

Our little beauty has developed an aversion to water. You might well say that, of course, electricity and water don’t mix. But this is an outboard motor, engineered by those clever Germans, and designed to be in water as the basic function of its being. Now ours doesn’t like a bit of dew. Connections have duly been cleaned and sprayed with the German equivalent of WD-40. But a few days at anchor and we’ve had to resort to rowing ashore. And back.

Damingly, it always seems to start on testing, even happily taking us for a night out. Sorted, we thought. But no. Ironically, just as we were returning to the dinghy we got chatting to another owner, only the second we’d met, singing the praises of the motor. As we both inserted the magnetic key his started immediately. Ours – nothing. The other guy, who happened to be German himself, volunteered​ to give us a tow, saying that he felt a responsibility for his country’s engineering. We were very happy to take him up on the offer, our rowing not being the most efficient at the best of times let alone after a big meal and several drinks.

At the time of writing, cleaned and sprayed yet again, it seems to be working. Until we come to use it again?