Kólpos Ídras
Mandraki Bay, Nísos Ídra
Thursday September 15 - Saturday 17 15nm, 3hrs
Free anchorage - stern lines to shore
Note:
On the Greek Island of Ídra all cars, bikes and mopeds are banned and transport relies on mules, donkeys and horses
Ídra (or Hydra), is a serpentine water monster in Greek and Roman mythology
Thursday September 15 - Saturday 17 15nm, 3hrs
Free anchorage - stern lines to shore
Note:
On the Greek Island of Ídra all cars, bikes and mopeds are banned and transport relies on mules, donkeys and horses
Ídra (or Hydra), is a serpentine water monster in Greek and Roman mythology
We chose the right day to come to Nisós Ídra. Over a dozen boats, including a flotilla of seven, left Mandraki Bay as we were entering. It’s worth noting for the future; come to Ídra on a Thursday, Friday, or Saturday when the charter boats are unlikely to be here. We moored easily in Mediterranean style, and by evening the boats either side of us had also gone. After lunch we took the coast road to Ídra Harbour, a 25 minute jaunt that took twice that long due to capturing images of the stunning vistas and the magnificent Apollo Wind Spinner.*
Ídra Harbour was a thrumming little village with many cute shops, and even cuter donkeys. Wandering the harbour-side walkway we were gobsmacked at the number of yachts packed in here, sometimes moored three deep on the pier, and this is a quiet day! We were treated to the sight of a bride on a donkey, followed by her entourage, being led through the town to a reception at the Sunset Bar. She looked absolutely radiant. “Nice ass,” Colin said.
Hot and hungry after walking back to Mandraki Bay we ate at the one and only restaurant before returning to the boat. Dinner was delicious, and we ordered orange pie for dessert. It had a unique flavour that was not like other orange pie I’ve tasted, and I’ve tasted plenty. I put it down to the ice cream and asked our waiter, who said it was Vanilla Kaïmáki, aka Mastic. Aha, I know all about it. It’s that resin from an evergreen tree native to the island of Chios, that is a bit chewy and has a flavour I can’t describe. SBS Food managed to describe it, however, as having an earthy, musky, vanilla-like flavour, quite woody, strong aroma, and a somewhat 'acquired taste'. I’m working on acquiring it.
Despite our insistence we don’t drink alcohol, two shot glasses were placed in front of us after dinner, with the claim the stuff in them contained very little alcohol and was good for digestion. I don’t know about that, but after sniffing it I do think it would have stripped paint.
*The Apollo Wind Spinner (2020–2022), a 9.1 meter (30-foot) wide reflective wind spinner with the face of Apollo, is part of a solo exhibition by Jeff Koons, on view at DESTE’s Project Space at the old Slaughterhouse in Hydra from June 21 to October 31, 2022.
Click images to enlarge
Ídra Harbour was a thrumming little village with many cute shops, and even cuter donkeys. Wandering the harbour-side walkway we were gobsmacked at the number of yachts packed in here, sometimes moored three deep on the pier, and this is a quiet day! We were treated to the sight of a bride on a donkey, followed by her entourage, being led through the town to a reception at the Sunset Bar. She looked absolutely radiant. “Nice ass,” Colin said.
Hot and hungry after walking back to Mandraki Bay we ate at the one and only restaurant before returning to the boat. Dinner was delicious, and we ordered orange pie for dessert. It had a unique flavour that was not like other orange pie I’ve tasted, and I’ve tasted plenty. I put it down to the ice cream and asked our waiter, who said it was Vanilla Kaïmáki, aka Mastic. Aha, I know all about it. It’s that resin from an evergreen tree native to the island of Chios, that is a bit chewy and has a flavour I can’t describe. SBS Food managed to describe it, however, as having an earthy, musky, vanilla-like flavour, quite woody, strong aroma, and a somewhat 'acquired taste'. I’m working on acquiring it.
Despite our insistence we don’t drink alcohol, two shot glasses were placed in front of us after dinner, with the claim the stuff in them contained very little alcohol and was good for digestion. I don’t know about that, but after sniffing it I do think it would have stripped paint.
*The Apollo Wind Spinner (2020–2022), a 9.1 meter (30-foot) wide reflective wind spinner with the face of Apollo, is part of a solo exhibition by Jeff Koons, on view at DESTE’s Project Space at the old Slaughterhouse in Hydra from June 21 to October 31, 2022.
Click images to enlarge
Friday morning there was a flurry of activity when a free-swinging monohull in the middle of the bay tried to leave, only to find they had been anchored over by SV Plan B, a huge catamaran that had let out 100m of chain from one side of the bay to the other. There was a lot of shouting, trying to wake the crew of Plan B. We thought it was our neighbour they were trying to wake, so Colin got his bagpipe chanter and blew it, loudly, three times, repeatedly (so we do have a horn on the boat), and he even offered the captain a lift in the dinghy to wake the crew. It was then he was told it was the cat the other side of - and blocked from view by - our neighbour who was involved, and they were already awake. Oops.
During yesterday’s walk we had seen some beautiful bays, so we paddled around for a closer look at them and the Apollo Wind Spinner. We were lucky enough to see it spinning as we entered Mandraki Bay on Thursday, but the morning was too still for it to move.
Returning to the boat in time for Colin to listen to the AFL preliminary final, he was disappointed by the thrashing the Geelong Cats gave Brisbane Lions, and we realised that with the constant traffic of water taxis, ferries and luxury liners passing or entering and all creating swell, the boat was in a constant state of rock ‘n’ roll, one of my least favourite 'states of being' on a boat. We hadn’t realised on the previous day because we barely spent any time on the boat, and the traffic settles down in the evening. We did have an ‘apartment block’ anchor either side of us, stinky things that they are, with their generators on all night so they can run their underwater lights, air-con, and wide-screen TV, but who am I to judge how others enjoy the marvels of nature?
Click images to enlarge
During yesterday’s walk we had seen some beautiful bays, so we paddled around for a closer look at them and the Apollo Wind Spinner. We were lucky enough to see it spinning as we entered Mandraki Bay on Thursday, but the morning was too still for it to move.
Returning to the boat in time for Colin to listen to the AFL preliminary final, he was disappointed by the thrashing the Geelong Cats gave Brisbane Lions, and we realised that with the constant traffic of water taxis, ferries and luxury liners passing or entering and all creating swell, the boat was in a constant state of rock ‘n’ roll, one of my least favourite 'states of being' on a boat. We hadn’t realised on the previous day because we barely spent any time on the boat, and the traffic settles down in the evening. We did have an ‘apartment block’ anchor either side of us, stinky things that they are, with their generators on all night so they can run their underwater lights, air-con, and wide-screen TV, but who am I to judge how others enjoy the marvels of nature?
Click images to enlarge
Ermioni
Saturday September 17 - Monday 19 11nm, 3hrs
Free anchorage
Saturday September 17 - Monday 19 11nm, 3hrs
Free anchorage
Executing a perfect exit was assisted by the wind direction which held us in place while Colin collected the stern lines from shore. Our Fun Seeking neighbours on the port side, who had anchored unnecessarily close, motored forward to give us a clear run, and not up their rear end which was very close to our bow. Kind of them.
The wind meant we got to see the Apollo Wind Spinner spinning again, and I managed to get a movie of it. Made of steel, bronze, and two motors, and 1393.3 x 914.4 x 260.8 cm in size, it’s certainly an impressive work of art. Wind also meant Colin put sails up, since he so rarely gets the chance, but after making only a couple of miles in as many hours he thought we’d better have motor assistance to get to Ermioni before dark.
I didn’t think there were any big fish left in the Med, but as we sailed along we saw a sizeable swordfish jumping out of the water repeatedly, right until I got my camera. Another impressive sight.
There was only one other boat in the bay when we anchored, but a few more came in as the afternoon wore on. We ventured into town for dinner and had the best feta with sesame and honey that we’ve had. Absolutely divine!
Ermioni looks such a quiet place but the evening was loud, starting with a wedding and cars beeping their horns as the procession drives through town to the church, then a broadcast of the ceremony over loud speaker, then later we heard motorbikes doing burnouts and backfiring, and rather bad music coming from the nightclub on shore. It’s all about which way the wind’s blowing.
The next day the wind blew up, as predicted, but not from the direction expected. Boats just kept coming all day, anchoring all around us. This was of no end of interest to Colin, who loves to watch the good, the bad and the ugly anchoring techniques. He stayed in the cockpit on medium alert because there was a catamaran in front of us that was unnervingly close. If it were to drag it would’ve been on top of us in seconds, but Colin had seen them anchor (one of the good ones) so he wasn’t too worried.
In the afternoon Colin saw a couple of guys trying (unsuccessfully) to row their dinghy to shore, so he went to offer help. As he approached, a man on the nearby yacht laughed let them die. Colin went to see if the guys, who had jumped into the water from the dinghy, were okay before bowing out. They said they were fine, and Colin thinks they might have been just a touch intoxicated.
It wasn’t until around 20:00 that the winds died sufficiently for us to comfortably leave the boat to go into town. We tried for the delicious feta dish at the same restaurant but they said it was finished. How do you run out of feta, phyllo and honey, I ask you? So dinner was very ordinary, but we found Kaïmáki ice cream with sour cherries. As I’m still working on acquiring a taste for it this was excellent news. I think I’m getting there.
In the morning we shot into town to get some photos of fishing boats and buy a few things. There was plastic upon plastic upon plastic in the harbour water, which is always so frightful. We did our best to pick some up and bin it.
Click images to enlarge
The wind meant we got to see the Apollo Wind Spinner spinning again, and I managed to get a movie of it. Made of steel, bronze, and two motors, and 1393.3 x 914.4 x 260.8 cm in size, it’s certainly an impressive work of art. Wind also meant Colin put sails up, since he so rarely gets the chance, but after making only a couple of miles in as many hours he thought we’d better have motor assistance to get to Ermioni before dark.
I didn’t think there were any big fish left in the Med, but as we sailed along we saw a sizeable swordfish jumping out of the water repeatedly, right until I got my camera. Another impressive sight.
There was only one other boat in the bay when we anchored, but a few more came in as the afternoon wore on. We ventured into town for dinner and had the best feta with sesame and honey that we’ve had. Absolutely divine!
Ermioni looks such a quiet place but the evening was loud, starting with a wedding and cars beeping their horns as the procession drives through town to the church, then a broadcast of the ceremony over loud speaker, then later we heard motorbikes doing burnouts and backfiring, and rather bad music coming from the nightclub on shore. It’s all about which way the wind’s blowing.
The next day the wind blew up, as predicted, but not from the direction expected. Boats just kept coming all day, anchoring all around us. This was of no end of interest to Colin, who loves to watch the good, the bad and the ugly anchoring techniques. He stayed in the cockpit on medium alert because there was a catamaran in front of us that was unnervingly close. If it were to drag it would’ve been on top of us in seconds, but Colin had seen them anchor (one of the good ones) so he wasn’t too worried.
In the afternoon Colin saw a couple of guys trying (unsuccessfully) to row their dinghy to shore, so he went to offer help. As he approached, a man on the nearby yacht laughed let them die. Colin went to see if the guys, who had jumped into the water from the dinghy, were okay before bowing out. They said they were fine, and Colin thinks they might have been just a touch intoxicated.
It wasn’t until around 20:00 that the winds died sufficiently for us to comfortably leave the boat to go into town. We tried for the delicious feta dish at the same restaurant but they said it was finished. How do you run out of feta, phyllo and honey, I ask you? So dinner was very ordinary, but we found Kaïmáki ice cream with sour cherries. As I’m still working on acquiring a taste for it this was excellent news. I think I’m getting there.
In the morning we shot into town to get some photos of fishing boats and buy a few things. There was plastic upon plastic upon plastic in the harbour water, which is always so frightful. We did our best to pick some up and bin it.
Click images to enlarge