Eastern Peloponnisos
Órmos Fokianós
Tuesday May 2 - Wednesday 3 19nm, 3hrs 20min
Tuesday May 2 - Wednesday 3 19nm, 3hrs 20min
The drizzle increased to light rain as we headed to shore, so we sheltered in Drougas Bakery and had to have coffee and bougátsa again. Awful shame.
The boardwalks in town are always interesting, and today we learned how to tenderise octopus, the Greek way, as we passed a fisherman repeatedly raising one above his head then slamming it down on the concrete. Mmmmm. Tender as.
The Port Authority official was almost pleasant when we checked out, and following a quick top up of provisions it was time to head south and explore new territory. On the seas by 1150 we motored all the way to Fokianas, with a couple of hours of wind assisted mainsail.
I don’t remember who told me about the podcast “My Dad Wrote a Porno”, but we listened to it whilst travelling and it kept us well amused.
Approaching Órmos Fokianas the light rain recommenced, and we anchored with just one other boat in the bay. It was sufficiently chilly and wet to put on the wet-weather pants and jacket, and I even put my thermals on later in the evening. Layers. That’s the ticket when you have limited space and weight to pack a multitude of cold and warm weather outfits.
The rain continued and the wind outside the bay picked up, creating a swell that gathered momentum throughout the night. I was rocked to sleep by the gentle motion, and a sound like a wooden spoon across a metal washboard as the boom swung back and forth emptying water across the fibro deck.
Click images to enlarge
The boardwalks in town are always interesting, and today we learned how to tenderise octopus, the Greek way, as we passed a fisherman repeatedly raising one above his head then slamming it down on the concrete. Mmmmm. Tender as.
The Port Authority official was almost pleasant when we checked out, and following a quick top up of provisions it was time to head south and explore new territory. On the seas by 1150 we motored all the way to Fokianas, with a couple of hours of wind assisted mainsail.
I don’t remember who told me about the podcast “My Dad Wrote a Porno”, but we listened to it whilst travelling and it kept us well amused.
Approaching Órmos Fokianas the light rain recommenced, and we anchored with just one other boat in the bay. It was sufficiently chilly and wet to put on the wet-weather pants and jacket, and I even put my thermals on later in the evening. Layers. That’s the ticket when you have limited space and weight to pack a multitude of cold and warm weather outfits.
The rain continued and the wind outside the bay picked up, creating a swell that gathered momentum throughout the night. I was rocked to sleep by the gentle motion, and a sound like a wooden spoon across a metal washboard as the boom swung back and forth emptying water across the fibro deck.
Click images to enlarge
Limáni Gérakas (Gérakas Port)
Wednesday May 3 - Sunday 7 19nm, 3hrs 30min
Wednesday May 3 - Sunday 7 19nm, 3hrs 30min
Wednesday 3
The cruising guide mentioned there could be “confused seas” entering the Port of Gérakas, and we wondered what the bloody hell we’d been in for the last three hours if not confused seas!!
Thankfully the waters flattened when we entered the port, and the Swiss crew of a catamaran helped us moor up next to them on the old ferry pier. They were doing a delivery of a friend’s boat and heading to Kilada.
There seemed only one place to eat in town, and we strolled in rather early for Greece, at around 1900, because we were tired and hungry. We couldn’t tell if the man at the table inside was staff, but when I conversed with the cat about whether it should be allowed in with us he gave a noise of discouragement. I answered “No?” in Greek, shut the door on the cat, and he invited us to sit down. The cat was undeterred, however, and slipped into the restaurant via the outside balcony, dangling 10’ over the street as it did so. The man kinda just rolled his eyes. It seemed he was really quite fond of the cheeky creature, later throwing it a prawn from the kitchen.
This friendly man chatted to us in English, but some of the story details were a little unclear, but I’m never going to criticise anyone who speaks a second language, and he brought us a complimentary delicious dessert made by his wife.
There was no rocking to sleep this night, but the gusts of wind were pushing us onto the jetty so there was the sound of a fender having the life squeezed out of it by an eight tonne boat. I shut my cabin door and windows to dull the racket.
Thursday 4
The streets are so narrow in Gérakas that it’s near on impossible for cars to turn around, so they all drive down to the pier to do a U-turn. At first we wondered what all the traffic was about, and Colin was sure the Port Authority would be arriving any moment to collect fees so he was keeping a look out. They never did though.
Our Swiss friends left to head north and we walked to the acropolis and ruins of the ancient city of Zárakas. It looked pretty breezy outside the bay so we were happy to be staying put. I took a lot of close-up photos of plants. I mean a lot.
Either the water warmed up or our bodies were sufficiently hot after hiking that a swim was not too torturous at all, and really quite refreshing.
Friday 5
Upon waking the skies opened up, and didn’t really shut again the whole day. The wise captain thought better of our plans to head south to Monemvasía, knowing it would be a cold, wet trip and possibly a rocky, rolly night on anchor. Although we hoped to avoid the strong northerly blow, known as a meltémi, by coming earlier in the season, no-one told the meltémis that and we seemed to be in the middle of one.
As the swell picked up Colin tightened the ropes to the pier, and even more so when a charter boat moved from the town boardwalk to beside us. They had a few attempts at going stern to, but the swell was side on so when they finally tied up and they lowered the passerelle (or gangplank) they were unable to traverse it as it was moving around too much. I was nudging Colin to suggest to them to go side on, like we were, but he thought it was not his business to tell another skipper how to moor. He eventually did though, because they were going to have no fun being stern to, and leaving their boat was a dangerous (and probably wet) proposition. They were grateful for the suggestion and the help, and said it was their first time mooring like that.
By evening the wind and swell were so strong I was becoming rather alarmed, despite Colin’s reassurances that we would be safe and the boat would not be smashed against the pier. It certainly felt like it though. The boat was jerking violently with each surge, and the noise and the motion were frightening. Because of the state I was in the concerned captain went out to see if there was anything he could do to improve matters, and found that by loosening off the bow line the boat was able to move more freely with the surges and so the jerking eased off substantially. Thank goodness! I guess the super tight ropes had worked when we were caught in a cyclone in Geraldton, but then we were tied up on both sides plus at the stern and bow. Anyway, I went from thinking I was going to get no rest to sleeping the night through. Thank you Captain Colin.
Saturday 6
The wind wasn’t dying and the swell wasn’t easing so we decided to play it safe and stay another night. To reassure ourselves it was the right move we hiked again to the acropolis to look out over the sea. Yup, we made the right decision. Our German friends needed to go though, as they have limited time on their charter boat, so they left around 1500 once the wind ‘died down’. Died down my sweet backside! Anyway, them’s the breaks when you only have a couple of weeks to swan around on a yacht.
Today we braved the ‘beach’ for a swim, which was actually just a concrete platform with a ladder into the ocean. We thought it the polite thing to do, instead of descending the ladder at the back of the boat, since we were stern to stern on the jetty with our neighbours and they were eating lunch in their cockpit at the time. To our delight we discovered a warm outdoor fresh water shower (more a water spout) next to the swimming hole, and a wooden cubicle that served as a change room.
Dinner had to be at Taverna To Remetzo since we knew they had fresh octopus; we’d seen it drying on our way through town. The couple who ran the place were gorgeous, and so friendly and warm that I wanted to stay another week and eat there every night. We ordered the octopus, of course, and although 'boiled in vinegar' doesn’t sound that appetising it really is the best way to have it; tender and swimming in olive oil. Devine! We also had something special to this area, saïtia, which is basically like a flat spinach pie. I was familiar with it because I’d had it for lunch next door after our hike.
A few cats were standing by looking hopeful, and I foolishly made eye contact with one. It took this as an invitation, and I soon had a warm body against my leg and some sharp little claws digging into my lap. I told it ‘no way octopus’, and had to prise it’s talons from my only top that prior to dinner had no holes in it. Sigh.
Declining an offer of an after dinner liqueur we were brought what we identified from Klio’s Honey Farm as a ‘spoon treat’, glyká tou koutalioú. We recognised it as made from quince, and confirmed this with our lovely hostess and chef.
Photos by Nic and Colin. Click images to enlarge
The cruising guide mentioned there could be “confused seas” entering the Port of Gérakas, and we wondered what the bloody hell we’d been in for the last three hours if not confused seas!!
Thankfully the waters flattened when we entered the port, and the Swiss crew of a catamaran helped us moor up next to them on the old ferry pier. They were doing a delivery of a friend’s boat and heading to Kilada.
There seemed only one place to eat in town, and we strolled in rather early for Greece, at around 1900, because we were tired and hungry. We couldn’t tell if the man at the table inside was staff, but when I conversed with the cat about whether it should be allowed in with us he gave a noise of discouragement. I answered “No?” in Greek, shut the door on the cat, and he invited us to sit down. The cat was undeterred, however, and slipped into the restaurant via the outside balcony, dangling 10’ over the street as it did so. The man kinda just rolled his eyes. It seemed he was really quite fond of the cheeky creature, later throwing it a prawn from the kitchen.
This friendly man chatted to us in English, but some of the story details were a little unclear, but I’m never going to criticise anyone who speaks a second language, and he brought us a complimentary delicious dessert made by his wife.
There was no rocking to sleep this night, but the gusts of wind were pushing us onto the jetty so there was the sound of a fender having the life squeezed out of it by an eight tonne boat. I shut my cabin door and windows to dull the racket.
Thursday 4
The streets are so narrow in Gérakas that it’s near on impossible for cars to turn around, so they all drive down to the pier to do a U-turn. At first we wondered what all the traffic was about, and Colin was sure the Port Authority would be arriving any moment to collect fees so he was keeping a look out. They never did though.
Our Swiss friends left to head north and we walked to the acropolis and ruins of the ancient city of Zárakas. It looked pretty breezy outside the bay so we were happy to be staying put. I took a lot of close-up photos of plants. I mean a lot.
Either the water warmed up or our bodies were sufficiently hot after hiking that a swim was not too torturous at all, and really quite refreshing.
Friday 5
Upon waking the skies opened up, and didn’t really shut again the whole day. The wise captain thought better of our plans to head south to Monemvasía, knowing it would be a cold, wet trip and possibly a rocky, rolly night on anchor. Although we hoped to avoid the strong northerly blow, known as a meltémi, by coming earlier in the season, no-one told the meltémis that and we seemed to be in the middle of one.
As the swell picked up Colin tightened the ropes to the pier, and even more so when a charter boat moved from the town boardwalk to beside us. They had a few attempts at going stern to, but the swell was side on so when they finally tied up and they lowered the passerelle (or gangplank) they were unable to traverse it as it was moving around too much. I was nudging Colin to suggest to them to go side on, like we were, but he thought it was not his business to tell another skipper how to moor. He eventually did though, because they were going to have no fun being stern to, and leaving their boat was a dangerous (and probably wet) proposition. They were grateful for the suggestion and the help, and said it was their first time mooring like that.
By evening the wind and swell were so strong I was becoming rather alarmed, despite Colin’s reassurances that we would be safe and the boat would not be smashed against the pier. It certainly felt like it though. The boat was jerking violently with each surge, and the noise and the motion were frightening. Because of the state I was in the concerned captain went out to see if there was anything he could do to improve matters, and found that by loosening off the bow line the boat was able to move more freely with the surges and so the jerking eased off substantially. Thank goodness! I guess the super tight ropes had worked when we were caught in a cyclone in Geraldton, but then we were tied up on both sides plus at the stern and bow. Anyway, I went from thinking I was going to get no rest to sleeping the night through. Thank you Captain Colin.
Saturday 6
The wind wasn’t dying and the swell wasn’t easing so we decided to play it safe and stay another night. To reassure ourselves it was the right move we hiked again to the acropolis to look out over the sea. Yup, we made the right decision. Our German friends needed to go though, as they have limited time on their charter boat, so they left around 1500 once the wind ‘died down’. Died down my sweet backside! Anyway, them’s the breaks when you only have a couple of weeks to swan around on a yacht.
Today we braved the ‘beach’ for a swim, which was actually just a concrete platform with a ladder into the ocean. We thought it the polite thing to do, instead of descending the ladder at the back of the boat, since we were stern to stern on the jetty with our neighbours and they were eating lunch in their cockpit at the time. To our delight we discovered a warm outdoor fresh water shower (more a water spout) next to the swimming hole, and a wooden cubicle that served as a change room.
Dinner had to be at Taverna To Remetzo since we knew they had fresh octopus; we’d seen it drying on our way through town. The couple who ran the place were gorgeous, and so friendly and warm that I wanted to stay another week and eat there every night. We ordered the octopus, of course, and although 'boiled in vinegar' doesn’t sound that appetising it really is the best way to have it; tender and swimming in olive oil. Devine! We also had something special to this area, saïtia, which is basically like a flat spinach pie. I was familiar with it because I’d had it for lunch next door after our hike.
A few cats were standing by looking hopeful, and I foolishly made eye contact with one. It took this as an invitation, and I soon had a warm body against my leg and some sharp little claws digging into my lap. I told it ‘no way octopus’, and had to prise it’s talons from my only top that prior to dinner had no holes in it. Sigh.
Declining an offer of an after dinner liqueur we were brought what we identified from Klio’s Honey Farm as a ‘spoon treat’, glyká tou koutalioú. We recognised it as made from quince, and confirmed this with our lovely hostess and chef.
Photos by Nic and Colin. Click images to enlarge
Spoon Sweets
Greek spoon sweets are fruits preserved in syrup. They are called spoon sweets because traditionally, they are served in the amount of a tablespoon. It's an old-fashioned sweet delicacy that used to be in every Greek home to treat each guest that came to visit. Along with a cup of Greek coffee (or Turkish it's the same thing).
Taken from Greek Spoon Sweets
Taken from Greek Spoon Sweets
Roadside Shrines
Known as kandylakia the roadside shrines are usually made of wood, stone, metal or concrete. Clearly visible on the edges of the narrow winding mountainous roads, they commemorate the lives both lost and saved.
Although road accidents are mostly the reason for placing these shrines, on numerous occasions they are placed as a promise and a gesture of thankfulness. They celebrate miracles and those who survived dedicate a kandylaki to their patron saint. Another reason for these shrines is a way to indicate that there is a monastery or church in vicinity especially in less populated areas where the church might be completely out of sight.
Taken from The Roadside Shrines in Greece
Although road accidents are mostly the reason for placing these shrines, on numerous occasions they are placed as a promise and a gesture of thankfulness. They celebrate miracles and those who survived dedicate a kandylaki to their patron saint. Another reason for these shrines is a way to indicate that there is a monastery or church in vicinity especially in less populated areas where the church might be completely out of sight.
Taken from The Roadside Shrines in Greece
Monemvasía
Sunday May 7 - Monday 8 9nm, 2hrs
Sunday May 7 - Monday 8 9nm, 2hrs
Monemvasiá is one of the most important medieval fortress-cities of Greece. It is also one of the most beautiful castles in the world.
Its area consists mostly of a large plateau some 100 metres above sea level, up to 300 m wide and 1 km long, the site of a powerful medieval fortress. The town walls and many Byzantine churches remain from the medieval period.
Taken from Kastrologos: Castles of Greece
Its area consists mostly of a large plateau some 100 metres above sea level, up to 300 m wide and 1 km long, the site of a powerful medieval fortress. The town walls and many Byzantine churches remain from the medieval period.
Taken from Kastrologos: Castles of Greece
Sunday 7
Leaving Gérakas was quite an adventure. The wind was blowing us onto the jetty so Colin ‘walked’ the boat to the end then I sprung off the bow. It all went smoothly, though the walk involved trying to push an eight tonne boat off the jetty using leg and arm power - My legs, Colin's arms. I felt it, but I expect I’ll feel it even more tomorrow.
The seas were as reported at the heads, confused, and they stayed that way until we neared Monemvasiá. We were lucky enough to see a turtle up for air as we sailed. Always exciting.
Monemvasiá loomed large like a sleeping dragon, and we dropped anchor outside the harbour in the shelter of the causeway and the island, as suggested by the Swiss folk we met.
Entering the harbour in the dinghy we saw there was no space to moor anyway, partly because four charter vessels were moored alongside the outer pier, taking up the space of eight that could have moored stern to. Colin thought they may have done that in the blow yesterday because there can be poor holding in the harbour in a strong northerly wind.
Monday 8
The gentle swell that becomes ‘not so gentle’ when you’re side on to it, doesn’t bother me as much as the bloody mosquitoes. I didn’t wake to the first one, but to the itch of its bite. I thought “I’ll just scratch it and go back to sleep”. I can’t count how many times I thought that before I finally got up to find the “stop itch”. Alas, no sooner had I stopped the itch and dozed back off to sleep when I heard that “zzzzzzzzZZZZZ” in my ear. I had learned, though, and only tried the “just throw the sheet over my head” method two or three times before getting up for the spray. It was out on the table, which means Colin had already been up to squirt the little pests. Needless to say I didn’t have a great night’s sleep, but we still woke early to beat the crowds and the heat to Monemvasiá.
The excessive amount of photos of Monemvasiá speak for themselves.
This area must have a pretty good turtle population as we saw two more today, one on the shallows of the harbour, which ducked under just before a hooning dinghy took it out, and one near the boat.
Click images to enlarge
Leaving Gérakas was quite an adventure. The wind was blowing us onto the jetty so Colin ‘walked’ the boat to the end then I sprung off the bow. It all went smoothly, though the walk involved trying to push an eight tonne boat off the jetty using leg and arm power - My legs, Colin's arms. I felt it, but I expect I’ll feel it even more tomorrow.
The seas were as reported at the heads, confused, and they stayed that way until we neared Monemvasiá. We were lucky enough to see a turtle up for air as we sailed. Always exciting.
Monemvasiá loomed large like a sleeping dragon, and we dropped anchor outside the harbour in the shelter of the causeway and the island, as suggested by the Swiss folk we met.
Entering the harbour in the dinghy we saw there was no space to moor anyway, partly because four charter vessels were moored alongside the outer pier, taking up the space of eight that could have moored stern to. Colin thought they may have done that in the blow yesterday because there can be poor holding in the harbour in a strong northerly wind.
Monday 8
The gentle swell that becomes ‘not so gentle’ when you’re side on to it, doesn’t bother me as much as the bloody mosquitoes. I didn’t wake to the first one, but to the itch of its bite. I thought “I’ll just scratch it and go back to sleep”. I can’t count how many times I thought that before I finally got up to find the “stop itch”. Alas, no sooner had I stopped the itch and dozed back off to sleep when I heard that “zzzzzzzzZZZZZ” in my ear. I had learned, though, and only tried the “just throw the sheet over my head” method two or three times before getting up for the spray. It was out on the table, which means Colin had already been up to squirt the little pests. Needless to say I didn’t have a great night’s sleep, but we still woke early to beat the crowds and the heat to Monemvasiá.
The excessive amount of photos of Monemvasiá speak for themselves.
This area must have a pretty good turtle population as we saw two more today, one on the shallows of the harbour, which ducked under just before a hooning dinghy took it out, and one near the boat.
Click images to enlarge
Kyparíssi
Monday May 8 - Tuesday 9 20nm, 3hrs 40min
Monday May 8 - Tuesday 9 20nm, 3hrs 40min
Kiparíssi was pretty unremarkable other than seeing people camping, swimming in the cold water, and sunning themselves on the rocky beach.
We anchored in the northeastern bay, and when we dropped the pick it seemed to skip along the flat rock bottom a little way before grabbing, but luckily it didn’t get wedged in (the captain checked) and pulled up easily the next day.
Click images to enlarge
We anchored in the northeastern bay, and when we dropped the pick it seemed to skip along the flat rock bottom a little way before grabbing, but luckily it didn’t get wedged in (the captain checked) and pulled up easily the next day.
Click images to enlarge