Saronic Gulf and Eastern Peloponnisos
Saronic Gulf
Nísos Póros
Sunday September 4 - Monday 5 25nm, 4hrs 20min
Free anchorage in Navy Bay
Sunday September 4 - Monday 5 25nm, 4hrs 20min
Free anchorage in Navy Bay
Lamenting the impending northerly wind, Colin said the weather we’d had for the last week was glamour! I looked questioningly at him. Glamour? In 14 years I had never heard him use that expression. I immediately enhanced it with 100%, a term I’ve been hearing a lot recently, and now have 100% glamour in my vocabulary arsenal.
Returning to Navy Bay it was absolutely chock-a-block, but we found a lovely spot to anchor in 5m, close to shore and next to SV Feisty. However, when the wind changed we drifted a little too close to one of our neighbours. I suggested we move a few metres to port, but Colin insisted we head out to the deep, and again we ended up in 14m with 60m of chain out. Colin told me I couldn’t swim nude because there was a boat parked right up our rear, and I agreed I didn’t want some to be flashing my Kólpos* to unknown yachties.
I asked Jackie if she’d ever seen so many boats in the bay and she replied never, and that they had been on watch most of the night. Someone had anchored in the dark, right in the middle of everyone. Fortunately it was a quiet night and that boat left in the morning. Jackie also reported there was a back up of charters waiting to anchor at the docks, and that lines were getting picked up as boats moved in and out. Quite a sight she said. Craziness.
The next morning, as a storm front came in, we had ring-side seats to watch boats moving across the bay with nobody aboard. Crews left their boats and went into town for breakfast, obviously without being securely anchored, so when the wind gusted 25+ knots they dragged. One monohull dragged about 20m before coming to a stop quite close to another boat, and a catamaran drifted 100m and smacked into the bow of a monohull. The catamaran’s crew came screaming out from shore in their rubber duck and wedged themselves between the two boats, foolishly one might think. I wouldn’t be wedging myself in a rubber duck between two 10 tonne boats, that’s for sure. When telling this story to my cousin later I asked Colin how he would describe that crew. Stupid, he replied. Yes, I said. That sums it up nicely. The two boats seemed to dance around each other for awhile, so we wondered if their anchor chains were crossed, but eventually the monohull weighed anchor and relocated. Kinda freaky and a little bit scary watching yachts weaving in and out of the place looking desperately for somewhere to anchor.
In the morning we were just about to get off the boat to join Jackie and Mel in town for coffee when the port authority, in a water taxi, told us to move closer to shore. I thought it was because of the storm that was coming, like happened in Croatia once, but it was because of the car ferry that was coming. There were many dozens of boats anchored all across the bay, and despite the fact we were well out of the way of the ferry (anchored in exactly the same spot yesterday when it came through) we were one of few boats with crew on board and we had to move. It must be pretty damn frustrating for ferry captains to have their passage so obstructed by boats.
*Colin looked up the word “Kólpos” because it is used frequently in navigational charts. It has several meanings: Bay, Gulf, Basin, Loch, Vagina.
Click images to enlarge
Returning to Navy Bay it was absolutely chock-a-block, but we found a lovely spot to anchor in 5m, close to shore and next to SV Feisty. However, when the wind changed we drifted a little too close to one of our neighbours. I suggested we move a few metres to port, but Colin insisted we head out to the deep, and again we ended up in 14m with 60m of chain out. Colin told me I couldn’t swim nude because there was a boat parked right up our rear, and I agreed I didn’t want some to be flashing my Kólpos* to unknown yachties.
I asked Jackie if she’d ever seen so many boats in the bay and she replied never, and that they had been on watch most of the night. Someone had anchored in the dark, right in the middle of everyone. Fortunately it was a quiet night and that boat left in the morning. Jackie also reported there was a back up of charters waiting to anchor at the docks, and that lines were getting picked up as boats moved in and out. Quite a sight she said. Craziness.
The next morning, as a storm front came in, we had ring-side seats to watch boats moving across the bay with nobody aboard. Crews left their boats and went into town for breakfast, obviously without being securely anchored, so when the wind gusted 25+ knots they dragged. One monohull dragged about 20m before coming to a stop quite close to another boat, and a catamaran drifted 100m and smacked into the bow of a monohull. The catamaran’s crew came screaming out from shore in their rubber duck and wedged themselves between the two boats, foolishly one might think. I wouldn’t be wedging myself in a rubber duck between two 10 tonne boats, that’s for sure. When telling this story to my cousin later I asked Colin how he would describe that crew. Stupid, he replied. Yes, I said. That sums it up nicely. The two boats seemed to dance around each other for awhile, so we wondered if their anchor chains were crossed, but eventually the monohull weighed anchor and relocated. Kinda freaky and a little bit scary watching yachts weaving in and out of the place looking desperately for somewhere to anchor.
In the morning we were just about to get off the boat to join Jackie and Mel in town for coffee when the port authority, in a water taxi, told us to move closer to shore. I thought it was because of the storm that was coming, like happened in Croatia once, but it was because of the car ferry that was coming. There were many dozens of boats anchored all across the bay, and despite the fact we were well out of the way of the ferry (anchored in exactly the same spot yesterday when it came through) we were one of few boats with crew on board and we had to move. It must be pretty damn frustrating for ferry captains to have their passage so obstructed by boats.
*Colin looked up the word “Kólpos” because it is used frequently in navigational charts. It has several meanings: Bay, Gulf, Basin, Loch, Vagina.
Click images to enlarge
Órmos Vidhi
Monday September 5 - Tuesday 6 3.5nm, 40min
Free anchorage
Monday September 5 - Tuesday 6 3.5nm, 40min
Free anchorage
After trying to anchor closer to shore but not feeling comfortable we anchored in the next bay west of Poros, but again didn’t feel we could let out enough chain to feel secure. Running out of options we motored to Órmos Vidhi where we knew we would find safe harbour. The only annoying thing about Órmos Vidhi - other than dickheads drifting onto us whilst dragging their anchor and trying to tie back to the shore against a 30kn wind from an impractical distance - was water skiers zipping in and out amongst the yachts creating wakes. It has to be against the rules, but who’s there to police it? One yacht sounded their horn (yachts have a horn?) and yelled at them every time they sped through, but they either couldn’t hear above the noise of their motor or couldn’t care less!
Late in the evening, around 23:30, a water taxi came screaming into the bay and stopped awfully close to our bow. I realised he was checking the name of our vessel, looking for the correct one to drop his passengers on, and he moved on to drop them on a catamaran two boats along. I assume the passengers had been brought from Poros. Good fare for the water taxi captain!
Click images to enlarge
Late in the evening, around 23:30, a water taxi came screaming into the bay and stopped awfully close to our bow. I realised he was checking the name of our vessel, looking for the correct one to drop his passengers on, and he moved on to drop them on a catamaran two boats along. I assume the passengers had been brought from Poros. Good fare for the water taxi captain!
Click images to enlarge
Nísos Póros
Tuesday September 6 - Wednesday 7 3.5nm, 1hr
Free anchorage
Tuesday September 6 - Wednesday 7 3.5nm, 1hr
Free anchorage
Heading back to Póros we found a safe anchorage at the furthest possible point from town without being in the next bay, not because we wanted to but because it was the only place we felt we could let out sufficient chain to hold us, and where it was unlikely someone would anchor in front of us. It was choppy and gusty, but Colin felt confident we could leave the Lass to go to a restaurant for dinner.
Around 18:00 our guests arrived via catamaran from Piraeus, and returning to the boat two of us, in the front of the dinghy (myself and Suzanne), got rather wet when the wind gusted. Not a particularly polite way to greet guests. Colin did a much better job keeping us dry getting to the White Cat restaurant, not that wind gusts are entirely his fault.
I love going back to the same restaurants and getting to know the staff. We were greeted so warmly, and after the bill had been settled the owner asked us to wait as he wanted to give us something. As he knows we don’t drink alcohol we were given lemon sorbet. I love that kind of special service.
The wind had died significantly during the evening but it picked up again, and at 03:30 Colin heard a motor. He looked out to see a catamaran circling, trying to anchor. The boat next to us shone a spotlight on the cat and yelled, “Go away!”... and it did. Who tries to drop a pick at that ungodly hour, other than perhaps someone who has dragged on anchor?
Click images to enlarge
Around 18:00 our guests arrived via catamaran from Piraeus, and returning to the boat two of us, in the front of the dinghy (myself and Suzanne), got rather wet when the wind gusted. Not a particularly polite way to greet guests. Colin did a much better job keeping us dry getting to the White Cat restaurant, not that wind gusts are entirely his fault.
I love going back to the same restaurants and getting to know the staff. We were greeted so warmly, and after the bill had been settled the owner asked us to wait as he wanted to give us something. As he knows we don’t drink alcohol we were given lemon sorbet. I love that kind of special service.
The wind had died significantly during the evening but it picked up again, and at 03:30 Colin heard a motor. He looked out to see a catamaran circling, trying to anchor. The boat next to us shone a spotlight on the cat and yelled, “Go away!”... and it did. Who tries to drop a pick at that ungodly hour, other than perhaps someone who has dragged on anchor?
Click images to enlarge
Eastern Peloponnisos
Pórto Héli
Wednesday September 7 - Friday 9 30nm, 5hrs 20min
Free anchorage
Wednesday September 7 - Friday 9 30nm, 5hrs 20min
Free anchorage
Given the wind was up again, and we didn’t think it kind to get our guests wet (again) going into town, we departed for Pórto Héli at 10:00. Arriving mid afternoon we were pleased to see it wasn’t a mob scene like Póros lots. Someone in a nearby boat stuck their head out the front hatch and watched while we anchored. I waved, thinking, “You can’t sugar bowl someone, mate, if they can’t see your hands on your hips.”
Naturally we dined at Salt and Pepper as we wanted our guests to experience the wonderful food and service, and they were suitably impressed. Colin hadn’t been eating much since his cold, and only has a dried fig for breakfast, sometimes two. I told Suzanne he’s on a supermodel diet, though he always orders fries with dinner. He says he loves his French food. We introduced ourselves to the staff, whose names we have never previously asked. Dimitri is the owner, and Ismini is his daughter. One of the specials of the day was the delicious Eggplant Imam. Curious to find out the origins of the dish, given an Imam is the prayer leader of a mosque, we did some research and discovered that although originating in Turkey the dish, called Imam Bayildi* (translating to the imam fainted), became popular throughout the region and even in Greece.
Thursday it was revealed why our neighbour was so interested in our anchoring. He was leaving and thought we might have anchored over his chain. Colin said he would have had to have 100m of chain out for us to be over it, and we were only in 5m of water. Still, we did the right thing and said we’d return to the boat before they were due to leave. However, when Colin and Mike went back the boat had already hauled anchor and scarpered. It gave me and Suzanne a chance to go shopping though, and shop we did! We both bought some beautiful things, and some drek (confirmed later by Jackie), and Suzanne even bought ’schmatta’. We had delightful encounters with shop staff, and learned from the lovely lady in Μουσείο (Museum) that there is a local vodka made from olives. Apparently even Daniel Craig knows of it, and whilst on location in Spétses recently, filming the Knives Out sequel, asked for it specially.
Returning to Μουσείο to buy some ceramics after finishing our other shopping, we had an interesting encounter. I let a British woman make her purchases before me because she was in a hurry to meet someone, and she asked me if I was here from the USA for long. I said I was from Australia, and asked her about where she was holidaying from. A long conversation ensued, during which we learned she had a summer house in Spain (Marbella, no less), as she pointed to a second hanging ornament she needed for the second hallway in her summer house. As the owner climbed the ladder to retrieve it, the woman said she’d spent so much her husband would be mad at her, to which I replied, “That’s why I don’t have one.” The owner was laughing so hard she had to climb back down the ladder and compose herself before fetching the ornament. Unfortunately it created an opening for the woman with two houses to tell us about her two weddings, spread over two nights because of Covid restrictions, at the Shelbourne, so she could have her hundred guests. Now, I wouldn’t know the Shelbourne from a hole in the wall, but Suze and Mike both noticed the name drop. Turns out it’s a world-famous, timeless, 5-star luxury hotel landmark in the heart of Dublin, overlooking the magnificent St. Stephen's Green, where the rich and famous stay, and have weddings. Geez, if I’d known that I could have acted suitably impressed!
*A folktale that surrounds the imam bayıldı dish goes back many years to when an elderly imam, or Islamic cleric, marries the daughter of an olive oil merchant, who gives the imam 12 casks of prized oil as a wedding gift. The newly wedded wife uses this oil to make a delectable eggplant dish that is so good, the imam asks her to cook it every day. But on the 13th day, she did not make the eggplant dish, and he asks why. She replies that she had used up all the olive oil, causing the imam to faint in disbelief. Some say that’s how the dish got its name, imam bayıldı, which translates to the “imam fainted.” Others say the imam “swooned” with pleasure at the flavour of this dish, or that he fainted upon hearing the cost of the ingredients.
Click images to enlarge
Naturally we dined at Salt and Pepper as we wanted our guests to experience the wonderful food and service, and they were suitably impressed. Colin hadn’t been eating much since his cold, and only has a dried fig for breakfast, sometimes two. I told Suzanne he’s on a supermodel diet, though he always orders fries with dinner. He says he loves his French food. We introduced ourselves to the staff, whose names we have never previously asked. Dimitri is the owner, and Ismini is his daughter. One of the specials of the day was the delicious Eggplant Imam. Curious to find out the origins of the dish, given an Imam is the prayer leader of a mosque, we did some research and discovered that although originating in Turkey the dish, called Imam Bayildi* (translating to the imam fainted), became popular throughout the region and even in Greece.
Thursday it was revealed why our neighbour was so interested in our anchoring. He was leaving and thought we might have anchored over his chain. Colin said he would have had to have 100m of chain out for us to be over it, and we were only in 5m of water. Still, we did the right thing and said we’d return to the boat before they were due to leave. However, when Colin and Mike went back the boat had already hauled anchor and scarpered. It gave me and Suzanne a chance to go shopping though, and shop we did! We both bought some beautiful things, and some drek (confirmed later by Jackie), and Suzanne even bought ’schmatta’. We had delightful encounters with shop staff, and learned from the lovely lady in Μουσείο (Museum) that there is a local vodka made from olives. Apparently even Daniel Craig knows of it, and whilst on location in Spétses recently, filming the Knives Out sequel, asked for it specially.
Returning to Μουσείο to buy some ceramics after finishing our other shopping, we had an interesting encounter. I let a British woman make her purchases before me because she was in a hurry to meet someone, and she asked me if I was here from the USA for long. I said I was from Australia, and asked her about where she was holidaying from. A long conversation ensued, during which we learned she had a summer house in Spain (Marbella, no less), as she pointed to a second hanging ornament she needed for the second hallway in her summer house. As the owner climbed the ladder to retrieve it, the woman said she’d spent so much her husband would be mad at her, to which I replied, “That’s why I don’t have one.” The owner was laughing so hard she had to climb back down the ladder and compose herself before fetching the ornament. Unfortunately it created an opening for the woman with two houses to tell us about her two weddings, spread over two nights because of Covid restrictions, at the Shelbourne, so she could have her hundred guests. Now, I wouldn’t know the Shelbourne from a hole in the wall, but Suze and Mike both noticed the name drop. Turns out it’s a world-famous, timeless, 5-star luxury hotel landmark in the heart of Dublin, overlooking the magnificent St. Stephen's Green, where the rich and famous stay, and have weddings. Geez, if I’d known that I could have acted suitably impressed!
*A folktale that surrounds the imam bayıldı dish goes back many years to when an elderly imam, or Islamic cleric, marries the daughter of an olive oil merchant, who gives the imam 12 casks of prized oil as a wedding gift. The newly wedded wife uses this oil to make a delectable eggplant dish that is so good, the imam asks her to cook it every day. But on the 13th day, she did not make the eggplant dish, and he asks why. She replies that she had used up all the olive oil, causing the imam to faint in disbelief. Some say that’s how the dish got its name, imam bayıldı, which translates to the “imam fainted.” Others say the imam “swooned” with pleasure at the flavour of this dish, or that he fainted upon hearing the cost of the ingredients.
Click images to enlarge
Nisís Dokós
Friday September 9 - Saturday 10 14nm, 2hrs 30min
Free anchorage
Friday September 9 - Saturday 10 14nm, 2hrs 30min
Free anchorage
Dokós, in the bay of Skindo, is part of the municipality of Ídra and home of the legendary hag stone, of which I returned many and took only one; a beautiful teardrop shaped stone that was just made for Suzanne.
We have been blessed to see turtles appear in every bay we’ve stayed in, often popping their heads up just as we arrive, and Órmos Skindo was no exception. Whilst searching for hag stones Suzanne and I collected as much soft plastic as we could to try and help these magnificent creatures.
Returning from our foraging expedition we swung over to a catamaran flying an Aussie flag, SV Itchy Feet, and met Jan and David from Mooloolaba. We waved the boys over and they came promptly in the dinghy to join us.
Suzanne claimed Mike to be the king of removing stains, but I had bought a product, on Zig’s recommendation, that was supposed to work miracles. I was rather amused by the Google translation of the name, and what I first thought were the ingredients but were in fact the stains it removes (see photos). It worked on blood; I haven’t tried it on the other stains yet.
Colin cooked up a feast of lamb cutlets on the Webber Kettle. The rack was kindly donated by Lulu, brought all the way from NYC where it was imported from Australia. Thank you Lulu for your generosity, and your impeccable taste in meat.
Click images to enlarge
We have been blessed to see turtles appear in every bay we’ve stayed in, often popping their heads up just as we arrive, and Órmos Skindo was no exception. Whilst searching for hag stones Suzanne and I collected as much soft plastic as we could to try and help these magnificent creatures.
Returning from our foraging expedition we swung over to a catamaran flying an Aussie flag, SV Itchy Feet, and met Jan and David from Mooloolaba. We waved the boys over and they came promptly in the dinghy to join us.
Suzanne claimed Mike to be the king of removing stains, but I had bought a product, on Zig’s recommendation, that was supposed to work miracles. I was rather amused by the Google translation of the name, and what I first thought were the ingredients but were in fact the stains it removes (see photos). It worked on blood; I haven’t tried it on the other stains yet.
Colin cooked up a feast of lamb cutlets on the Webber Kettle. The rack was kindly donated by Lulu, brought all the way from NYC where it was imported from Australia. Thank you Lulu for your generosity, and your impeccable taste in meat.
Click images to enlarge
Hag Stones
Saronic Gulf
Nísos Póros (via Nísos Ídra)
Saturday September 10 - Tuesday 13 19m, 3hrs 30min
Free anchorage in Navy Bay
Saturday September 10 - Tuesday 13 19m, 3hrs 30min
Free anchorage in Navy Bay
Many have we heard rave about Ídra, so we took a peek on our way back to Póros. The harbour town of Ídra was as described; gorgeous, but tricky for mooring. It very much reminded us of Sími where the boats tie back opposite each other, and having had our line crossed once we had no desire to repeat the experience. The Cruising Guide mentioned Mandraki Bay, less than a mile east, as an alternate anchorage. On approach it looked ghastly, but once through the heads it was quite delightful…if you ignore the ugly resort and mining machinery.
Leaving the Ídra Gulf we passed through the narrow channel where we were at the mercy of the massive motor boats that power through without any regard for the wake they create and its impact on smaller boats. The first motor boat wake just spilled all our coffees as we crashed head on into it, but the second one sent a massive wave over the bow. The hatches were all open because It had been so calm, and it wasn’t until later that I realised the front mattresses and floors were wet. I had planned to go into town with Suzanne and Mike once anchored, and climb to the Clock Tower, but they zipped in on their own while Colin and I mopped up and put the mattresses and other bedding out to dry. Luckily nothing was too wet, and by crikey it was hot, so everything dried in record time. Suzanne and Mike made it up to the Clock Tower, despite the heat, and saw the magnificent views of the bay.
For another culinary treat we dined at Primasera, followed by the best ice cream in Greece at Vessalá.
Sunday the moon was still bright in the sky when we took Suzanne and Mike in to catch the 08:00 ferry. After such a gorgeous time together it was too sad to say goodbye, so we said until next time…
That evening we joined the crews of SV Pen Azen and SV Feisty for dinner at Geiá mas. Judy and Ian from SV Pen Azen had popped by earlier to introduce themselves (they are also Ocean Cruising Club members and had seen our burgee) and they have been friends of the Feisty and Lulu crews for years. It was interesting to hear tales of their many adventures.
Monday Jackie and Mel wanted to make up for the lousy dinner the night before. It wasn’t actually lousy for Colin and I because we didn’t order the almost inedible lamb chops the others had. After lots of garlic bread, appetisers, and imam, Colin and I were full.
After dinner Jackie and Mel waited on their back deck and finally heard Colin playing the bagpipes. Previously they had been too far away, or the wind was in the wrong direction, or they were inside and couldn’t hear him. The hour was late, but we’d been woken plenty of times in the wee small hours by people hootin' and hollerin', so we didn’t lose sleep over it. Pun intended.
Tuesday in preparation for a few nights away from restaurants we provisioned at the Kritikos supermarket, and also popped into Kontogianni Angeliki, the home goods store that seems to have everything! I was very excited to find many things we'd wanted, such as isopropyl alcohol (to make ear drops which we haven't been able to find in the Med), another silicon ice block tray, a toilet brush, a fine metal strainer, and finally, my white zip (that I ordered a month ago) had arrived. No more do I have to ask for “fermouár áspro”. To finish our excursion I got myself an Espresso Freddo from Skipper Café, and described our expedition as very successful, at which Colin looked at me quizzically. Well it was!
I’m not sure whether it was Lulu or Jackie who introduced me to the Yiddish word schmutz*, but when we offered to help Jackie and Mel lift their dinghy, as Jackie had put her back out a few days earlier, we had no idea the kind of schmutz that would be under it. In a later conversation with Lulu I said there was a little forest under there. Interesting, and just a little bit smelly. I had asked Jackie the Yiddish word for “honking”, but she didn’t know, so Lulu looked it up for me and said it was a doozy… farshtunken. Literally, 'stinking’. She was impressed by the photos of the farshtunken schmutz, considering all they had under their dinghy was a couple of schmutzy stains. I knew it would stink - ours did after only being in the water a couple of days - so I suggested we try and get some of the schmutz off before lifting the dinghy onto the deck. I thought an oar would do the trick and got started from the deck, but Colin soon took over from underneath and cleaned off most of the muck. I suggested he work from upwind so he didn’t get covered in farshtunken schmutz himself. He was a real hero, and Jackie and Mel were so thankful for the help. They plied us with gifts (including some of their favourite New York pretzels), which we didn’t want to take because we were just happy to help, but they insisted. I suggested to Jackie she pretend the smell was seaweed salad or marinara sauce. It worked for me.
*Schmutz (pronounced SHMUTS, with a u as in put), also spelled shmutz. It means "dirt," "filth," "grime," or "rubbish."
Click images to enlarge
Leaving the Ídra Gulf we passed through the narrow channel where we were at the mercy of the massive motor boats that power through without any regard for the wake they create and its impact on smaller boats. The first motor boat wake just spilled all our coffees as we crashed head on into it, but the second one sent a massive wave over the bow. The hatches were all open because It had been so calm, and it wasn’t until later that I realised the front mattresses and floors were wet. I had planned to go into town with Suzanne and Mike once anchored, and climb to the Clock Tower, but they zipped in on their own while Colin and I mopped up and put the mattresses and other bedding out to dry. Luckily nothing was too wet, and by crikey it was hot, so everything dried in record time. Suzanne and Mike made it up to the Clock Tower, despite the heat, and saw the magnificent views of the bay.
For another culinary treat we dined at Primasera, followed by the best ice cream in Greece at Vessalá.
Sunday the moon was still bright in the sky when we took Suzanne and Mike in to catch the 08:00 ferry. After such a gorgeous time together it was too sad to say goodbye, so we said until next time…
That evening we joined the crews of SV Pen Azen and SV Feisty for dinner at Geiá mas. Judy and Ian from SV Pen Azen had popped by earlier to introduce themselves (they are also Ocean Cruising Club members and had seen our burgee) and they have been friends of the Feisty and Lulu crews for years. It was interesting to hear tales of their many adventures.
Monday Jackie and Mel wanted to make up for the lousy dinner the night before. It wasn’t actually lousy for Colin and I because we didn’t order the almost inedible lamb chops the others had. After lots of garlic bread, appetisers, and imam, Colin and I were full.
After dinner Jackie and Mel waited on their back deck and finally heard Colin playing the bagpipes. Previously they had been too far away, or the wind was in the wrong direction, or they were inside and couldn’t hear him. The hour was late, but we’d been woken plenty of times in the wee small hours by people hootin' and hollerin', so we didn’t lose sleep over it. Pun intended.
Tuesday in preparation for a few nights away from restaurants we provisioned at the Kritikos supermarket, and also popped into Kontogianni Angeliki, the home goods store that seems to have everything! I was very excited to find many things we'd wanted, such as isopropyl alcohol (to make ear drops which we haven't been able to find in the Med), another silicon ice block tray, a toilet brush, a fine metal strainer, and finally, my white zip (that I ordered a month ago) had arrived. No more do I have to ask for “fermouár áspro”. To finish our excursion I got myself an Espresso Freddo from Skipper Café, and described our expedition as very successful, at which Colin looked at me quizzically. Well it was!
I’m not sure whether it was Lulu or Jackie who introduced me to the Yiddish word schmutz*, but when we offered to help Jackie and Mel lift their dinghy, as Jackie had put her back out a few days earlier, we had no idea the kind of schmutz that would be under it. In a later conversation with Lulu I said there was a little forest under there. Interesting, and just a little bit smelly. I had asked Jackie the Yiddish word for “honking”, but she didn’t know, so Lulu looked it up for me and said it was a doozy… farshtunken. Literally, 'stinking’. She was impressed by the photos of the farshtunken schmutz, considering all they had under their dinghy was a couple of schmutzy stains. I knew it would stink - ours did after only being in the water a couple of days - so I suggested we try and get some of the schmutz off before lifting the dinghy onto the deck. I thought an oar would do the trick and got started from the deck, but Colin soon took over from underneath and cleaned off most of the muck. I suggested he work from upwind so he didn’t get covered in farshtunken schmutz himself. He was a real hero, and Jackie and Mel were so thankful for the help. They plied us with gifts (including some of their favourite New York pretzels), which we didn’t want to take because we were just happy to help, but they insisted. I suggested to Jackie she pretend the smell was seaweed salad or marinara sauce. It worked for me.
*Schmutz (pronounced SHMUTS, with a u as in put), also spelled shmutz. It means "dirt," "filth," "grime," or "rubbish."
Click images to enlarge
Nísos Ídra (Eastern Peloponnisos) - Limín Ídras (Ídra Harbour) and Mandraki Bay
Nísos Póros
Órmos Vidhi
Tuesday September 13 - Thursday 15 3nm, 1hr
Free anchorage
Tuesday September 13 - Thursday 15 3nm, 1hr
Free anchorage
Around 16:30 we headed to peaceful Órmos Vidhi where we anchored away from other boats and had a lovely quiet evening, the only sound being the dulcet tones (dulcet?) of Colin playing the bagpipes.
Because of charter boat rotations we decided to stay a second day and not rush to Ídra. I’d say it was peaceful, but Colin appeared to be sick of his lungs and kept trying to cough them up while he cleaned the boat. Far be it for me to say, “I told you we should have bought an expectorant.” I just suggested (strongly) he stop cleaning, and put on loud music in an effort to drown him out.
Click images to enlarge
Because of charter boat rotations we decided to stay a second day and not rush to Ídra. I’d say it was peaceful, but Colin appeared to be sick of his lungs and kept trying to cough them up while he cleaned the boat. Far be it for me to say, “I told you we should have bought an expectorant.” I just suggested (strongly) he stop cleaning, and put on loud music in an effort to drown him out.
Click images to enlarge