Middle Kykládes - Despotikó, Sífnos, Sérifos
Nísos Despotikó
Órmos Despotikó
Thursday June 8 - Saturday 10 3hrs 45min, 21nm
Anchored in 5m. Good holding, sandy bottom
Thursday June 8 - Saturday 10 3hrs 45min, 21nm
Anchored in 5m. Good holding, sandy bottom
Thursday the wind didn’t stay calm for long, but was again blowing in our favour and we enjoyed a leisurely sail, only having to motor the last few miles. Colin loved the wide, roomy bay between Antíparos and Despotikó as you could anchor anywhere and people were spread out. Much less chance of someone anchoring on top of us.
Colin swam out to check the anchor and didn’t seem to be aware he was on a collision course with a fishing boat. I stood on the bow waving at the boat and pointing at Colin, and yelling at Colin to no avail as he had his head down in the water. He finally heard me when he stopped, and started swimming back. I was terrified he’d get hit by the boat, not because of the injuries, but because he was naked and I know he'd be embarrassed.
Friday was not as windy as forecast by the consistently unreliable PredictWind, but we don’t mind errors in our favour so we weren’t complaining. We attempted a visit to the archaic sanctuary being excavated and reconstructed on the unpopulated island of Despotikó, but it was not open to the public until much later in the day. We opted instead for coffee on Antíparos. With free cafe wi-fi we were able to translate messages from our provider, Cosmote, that we had run out of data, hence our inability to connect to the internet since yesterday afternoon when we suddenly lost it. Oops. Colin activated his roaming at a mere $10/day yielding a massive 1GB of data, which frankly disappeared in a moment without even trying! Since there are no islands on our itinerary that have a Cosmote shop, unless we wanted to return 15nm to Paroikiá on Páros, which we didn’t, we just had to suck up the expense and be more conservative with our usage. Tricky stuff for internet researchers like us.
Click images to enlarge
Colin swam out to check the anchor and didn’t seem to be aware he was on a collision course with a fishing boat. I stood on the bow waving at the boat and pointing at Colin, and yelling at Colin to no avail as he had his head down in the water. He finally heard me when he stopped, and started swimming back. I was terrified he’d get hit by the boat, not because of the injuries, but because he was naked and I know he'd be embarrassed.
Friday was not as windy as forecast by the consistently unreliable PredictWind, but we don’t mind errors in our favour so we weren’t complaining. We attempted a visit to the archaic sanctuary being excavated and reconstructed on the unpopulated island of Despotikó, but it was not open to the public until much later in the day. We opted instead for coffee on Antíparos. With free cafe wi-fi we were able to translate messages from our provider, Cosmote, that we had run out of data, hence our inability to connect to the internet since yesterday afternoon when we suddenly lost it. Oops. Colin activated his roaming at a mere $10/day yielding a massive 1GB of data, which frankly disappeared in a moment without even trying! Since there are no islands on our itinerary that have a Cosmote shop, unless we wanted to return 15nm to Paroikiá on Páros, which we didn’t, we just had to suck up the expense and be more conservative with our usage. Tricky stuff for internet researchers like us.
Click images to enlarge
Nísos Sífnos, (Νήσος Σίφνος)
Órmos Vathí (Óρμος Βαθύ)
0845 - 15-20min
Saturday June 10 - Monday 12 21nm, 3hrs 30min
Anchored in 5m. The bottom is reportedly rocks, sand, and weed but we held firm in the NE corner
0845 - 15-20min
Saturday June 10 - Monday 12 21nm, 3hrs 30min
Anchored in 5m. The bottom is reportedly rocks, sand, and weed but we held firm in the NE corner
Saturday Colin had to do a considerable amount of ‘weeding’ as we lifted the anchor. Now's no time for weeding, I said. Get the anchor up!
Before heading to Sífnos we stopped at the bottom of Antíparos to check out some caves. Well we thought they were caves, but they were really just crevices and indents. Interesting rock walls though. The dinghy motor made some rough sounds on the way back to the boat, but luckily it didn’t conk out while we were downwind of a building breeze.
With light winds we motor-sailed to Vathí on the west coast of Sífnos.
The first thing Colin did after lunch was take the lid off the dinghy outboard motor, only to find the pull start recoil mechanism in a state beyond repair, by him anyway. Thinking ahead he called Vasílis in Galatás, near Póros, who serviced the motor and the outboard for us this year, to see if he might have or be able to order a spare part, meanwhile thinking through the logistics of getting around with only oars for propulsion until we reached Póros, which is perfectly reasonable if it’s not windy.
Vasílis asked where we were because he has mechanic friends on some of the islands. Fortunately for us his friend, George, an outboard mechanic, lives on Sífnos and had a spare used part. The original plan was for Colin to call George around 1000hrs on Sunday as he was at a wedding on the Saturday. I don’t know what changed but Vasílis called us back around 2000hrs saying George would meeting us around 2000 (umm, that’s now) or 2030 at the latest, and gave explicit instructions to meet him at the bus stop as George wouldn't be able to get any further into town than that. Colin jumped in the dinghy and briskly rowed ashore, asking the first local he encountered where the bus stop was, and promptly found his way there. George turned up at 2030 on the dot and gave Colin the part for €70. Colin was full of the joys upon his return, and we praised the generosity of Vasílis and George who went out of their way on a Saturday night to help us out.
Sunday Colin woke up with the solution to fixing the broken outboard part, having summoned his inner MacGyver during the night. So not only did he fix the outboard with the part from George, he excelled (and somewhat surprised) himself by also fixing the original broken part. If only he’d thought to summon MacGyver earlier last night.
Vathí was charming with a real holiday feel. To our delight there were no roads to or along the waterfront, so all access was via the beach. A short walk down an alley is the bus stop and a parking area, and this is how tourists get to town. Then they have to walk along the waterfront to access their accomodation and any restaurants, and when I say waterfront I’m not talking about a path along the shoreline, I mean the sand where the water is lapping. As we sat drinking coffee on the waterfront we saw a line of tourists pass in front of us, fresh off the bus, and we even saw a man make two trips laden with bags of fresh greens, bread, and fresh produce. Later we found him in a chef’s uniform, proudly showing a customer photos of his garden and talking about his impressive harvest. We decided we would go there for dinner, although this lovely man said we were welcome to come, he wanted us to know he had a large booking that would take up all the waterfront tables. We didn’t mind. The prices were very reasonable and we knew the produce was fresh.
The water temperature and the weather are now so much warmer, and swimming to shore that the afternoon the sandy ocean floor was glinting like the sparkling rocks we’d seen (and sometimes collected) containing crystals that glitter and shine when they catch the sun. It seemed quite magical.
Before retiring for the night I finally convinced Colin to come for an evening dip, luring him in with the promise of bioluminescence. I always tell him he’ll feel better for it, and strangely he believes me, but he was in and out of the water so fast he didn’t have time to even see the bioluminescence.
Clink images to enlarge
Before heading to Sífnos we stopped at the bottom of Antíparos to check out some caves. Well we thought they were caves, but they were really just crevices and indents. Interesting rock walls though. The dinghy motor made some rough sounds on the way back to the boat, but luckily it didn’t conk out while we were downwind of a building breeze.
With light winds we motor-sailed to Vathí on the west coast of Sífnos.
The first thing Colin did after lunch was take the lid off the dinghy outboard motor, only to find the pull start recoil mechanism in a state beyond repair, by him anyway. Thinking ahead he called Vasílis in Galatás, near Póros, who serviced the motor and the outboard for us this year, to see if he might have or be able to order a spare part, meanwhile thinking through the logistics of getting around with only oars for propulsion until we reached Póros, which is perfectly reasonable if it’s not windy.
Vasílis asked where we were because he has mechanic friends on some of the islands. Fortunately for us his friend, George, an outboard mechanic, lives on Sífnos and had a spare used part. The original plan was for Colin to call George around 1000hrs on Sunday as he was at a wedding on the Saturday. I don’t know what changed but Vasílis called us back around 2000hrs saying George would meeting us around 2000 (umm, that’s now) or 2030 at the latest, and gave explicit instructions to meet him at the bus stop as George wouldn't be able to get any further into town than that. Colin jumped in the dinghy and briskly rowed ashore, asking the first local he encountered where the bus stop was, and promptly found his way there. George turned up at 2030 on the dot and gave Colin the part for €70. Colin was full of the joys upon his return, and we praised the generosity of Vasílis and George who went out of their way on a Saturday night to help us out.
Sunday Colin woke up with the solution to fixing the broken outboard part, having summoned his inner MacGyver during the night. So not only did he fix the outboard with the part from George, he excelled (and somewhat surprised) himself by also fixing the original broken part. If only he’d thought to summon MacGyver earlier last night.
Vathí was charming with a real holiday feel. To our delight there were no roads to or along the waterfront, so all access was via the beach. A short walk down an alley is the bus stop and a parking area, and this is how tourists get to town. Then they have to walk along the waterfront to access their accomodation and any restaurants, and when I say waterfront I’m not talking about a path along the shoreline, I mean the sand where the water is lapping. As we sat drinking coffee on the waterfront we saw a line of tourists pass in front of us, fresh off the bus, and we even saw a man make two trips laden with bags of fresh greens, bread, and fresh produce. Later we found him in a chef’s uniform, proudly showing a customer photos of his garden and talking about his impressive harvest. We decided we would go there for dinner, although this lovely man said we were welcome to come, he wanted us to know he had a large booking that would take up all the waterfront tables. We didn’t mind. The prices were very reasonable and we knew the produce was fresh.
The water temperature and the weather are now so much warmer, and swimming to shore that the afternoon the sandy ocean floor was glinting like the sparkling rocks we’d seen (and sometimes collected) containing crystals that glitter and shine when they catch the sun. It seemed quite magical.
Before retiring for the night I finally convinced Colin to come for an evening dip, luring him in with the promise of bioluminescence. I always tell him he’ll feel better for it, and strangely he believes me, but he was in and out of the water so fast he didn’t have time to even see the bioluminescence.
Clink images to enlarge
Nísos Sérifos
Órmos Livádhi
Monday June 12 - Wednesday 14 16nm, 3hrs
Anchored in 5m, sandy bottom
Monday June 12 - Wednesday 14 16nm, 3hrs
Anchored in 5m, sandy bottom
Monday in the wee small hours of Monday I was rudely awakened, twice, by such a cracking clap of thunder I cried out with shock, but when Colin finally heard the pitter patter of tiny raindrops (which he’s been listening out for) I was in such a deep sleep I couldn’t rouse myself to close my hatches like I normally would, so Colin bravely crawled out of bed with the thunder cracking and lightening striking all around us, searched for his wet weather gear but couldn’t find it, emerged onto the deck naked against the elements, enduring the howling winds and being lashed by the torrential rain, took down my bathers from the line and stacked them away safely, then closed all the hatches and went back to bed. Or so he says. It didn’t sound that bad to me.
Arriving in the bay of Livádhi on Sérifos around 1300hrs we beat the rush and were able to find a sandy bit amongst the weed to drop the pick. This bay is notoriously difficult to anchor in due to weed, so we were lucky. Others, however, were not so lucky, and made several attempts before holding fast. Amazingly it was non-stop action from around 1400hrs, and the bay went from a few of us to 30 boats in a minute! No end of fun for the captain, watching the activities from the cockpit.
Meanwhile, and without us noticing, someone swam out from the beach and dropped orange buoys in a spaced sequence around 30m from shore. We noticed when one of them started banging on the hull though, and Colin went for a swim and quietly moved it further away.
The foreshore is jam-packed with restaurants, all with a piece of waterfront for dining. Feeling a little overwhelmed we opted for a good ol’ gyros at “Tootsie Grill”. Not waterfront, but away from the bustling restaurant strip. I spied something very interesting on the menu, Kokorétsi*, and decided I had to come back and have it tomorrow night. Colin’s first reaction was “Err yuk!” until I presented him with the fact it sounds exactly the same as haggis. Being the good Scotsman that he is he had to concede it might be okay. Unfortunately when I said we’d be back tomorrow to try it, the waiter said they won’t have it until next month.
*(Seasoned pieces of lamb or goat offal (sweetbread, hearts, lungs, or kidneys), skewered on a spit and wrapped with lamb or goat caul fat and intestines)
Tuesday we woke to the alarm at 0600, planning to beat the heat to the chora, a 2.5km climb to the top of the town at an elevation of 300m. The wind had whipped up and when Colin popped his head into the cockpit to see if anyone was moving he saw a catamaran drifting at a steady pace. He figured the crew would soon wake up and take control of the situation so he tended to his morning ablutions. He was surprised to find they were still drifting when he’d finished. Debating a rescue, he saw another yacht weighing anchor and figured they would alert the poor unsuspecting passengers as they headed out, but they went on their merry way without any such courtesy, so Colin headed over in the dinghy. As he approached the crew were finally on deck so he turned back and left them to it. They must have drifted at least half a mile and I’m sure they would have been rather shocked to see where they were upon awakening.
As we dinghied into town, a little later than planned due to first ensuring we were anchored firmly and no-one was drifting our way, I remarked that the bay had emptied out a bit since a few boats had drifted out to sea. Colin laughed and commented that it was just those of us who know how to anchor that remained. Oh to be so wise and clever.
Finding the “1a” trail to the chora we started our climb. Chora means "Town" in Greek, and is often used as the name of the main town on an island, following the common practice in Greece of the name of the island being the same as the name of the principal town. Unfortunately for us the chora of Serifos “cascades down the summit of a rocky hill above Livadi”, as described in the Lonely Planet guide, though it does afford some fabulous views.
Click images to enlarge
Arriving in the bay of Livádhi on Sérifos around 1300hrs we beat the rush and were able to find a sandy bit amongst the weed to drop the pick. This bay is notoriously difficult to anchor in due to weed, so we were lucky. Others, however, were not so lucky, and made several attempts before holding fast. Amazingly it was non-stop action from around 1400hrs, and the bay went from a few of us to 30 boats in a minute! No end of fun for the captain, watching the activities from the cockpit.
Meanwhile, and without us noticing, someone swam out from the beach and dropped orange buoys in a spaced sequence around 30m from shore. We noticed when one of them started banging on the hull though, and Colin went for a swim and quietly moved it further away.
The foreshore is jam-packed with restaurants, all with a piece of waterfront for dining. Feeling a little overwhelmed we opted for a good ol’ gyros at “Tootsie Grill”. Not waterfront, but away from the bustling restaurant strip. I spied something very interesting on the menu, Kokorétsi*, and decided I had to come back and have it tomorrow night. Colin’s first reaction was “Err yuk!” until I presented him with the fact it sounds exactly the same as haggis. Being the good Scotsman that he is he had to concede it might be okay. Unfortunately when I said we’d be back tomorrow to try it, the waiter said they won’t have it until next month.
*(Seasoned pieces of lamb or goat offal (sweetbread, hearts, lungs, or kidneys), skewered on a spit and wrapped with lamb or goat caul fat and intestines)
Tuesday we woke to the alarm at 0600, planning to beat the heat to the chora, a 2.5km climb to the top of the town at an elevation of 300m. The wind had whipped up and when Colin popped his head into the cockpit to see if anyone was moving he saw a catamaran drifting at a steady pace. He figured the crew would soon wake up and take control of the situation so he tended to his morning ablutions. He was surprised to find they were still drifting when he’d finished. Debating a rescue, he saw another yacht weighing anchor and figured they would alert the poor unsuspecting passengers as they headed out, but they went on their merry way without any such courtesy, so Colin headed over in the dinghy. As he approached the crew were finally on deck so he turned back and left them to it. They must have drifted at least half a mile and I’m sure they would have been rather shocked to see where they were upon awakening.
As we dinghied into town, a little later than planned due to first ensuring we were anchored firmly and no-one was drifting our way, I remarked that the bay had emptied out a bit since a few boats had drifted out to sea. Colin laughed and commented that it was just those of us who know how to anchor that remained. Oh to be so wise and clever.
Finding the “1a” trail to the chora we started our climb. Chora means "Town" in Greek, and is often used as the name of the main town on an island, following the common practice in Greece of the name of the island being the same as the name of the principal town. Unfortunately for us the chora of Serifos “cascades down the summit of a rocky hill above Livadi”, as described in the Lonely Planet guide, though it does afford some fabulous views.
Click images to enlarge
Street Art Project
Órmos Koutalás
Wednesday June 14 - Thursday 15 7nm, 1hr, 30min
Anchored in 10m, sandy bottom
Wednesday June 14 - Thursday 15 7nm, 1hr, 30min
Anchored in 10m, sandy bottom
The wind didn’t allow us to go north, as we'd planned, so after a quick bakery breakfast we settled for moving approximately 6nm west to the bay of Koutalás. The boats came in continuously throughout the afternoon until the bay was comfortably full. The charter season seems well underway now, and we're seeing a lot more people in the water swimming and snorkelling as it has warmed up a degree to two. We also see a fair amount of people swimming nude, as do we, but what we don’t see a lot of is live porn on the top decks of catamarans. In fact it’s a first. Colin heard music and looked out to see a woman dancing naked on the front deck of a 50’ cat, then he noticed there were actually four women. His observations were as follows: One was dancing naked with a glass of wine in her hand, one was in a bikini jiggling her breasts in time to the music, one was topless and dancing with the naked girl, and one was clothed but writhing around in a rather erotic fashion. Enter the large Greek man who is escorted to the top deck by two of the ladies who then started performing fellatio on him. I probably don’t need to spell out what happened next. We felt sorry for the people on the boat next to them, who were what I would consider uncomfortably close, and I found it quite disturbing that a man thinks it's okay to do that in public.
Click images to enlarge
Click images to enlarge