Bernadette Seymour

ORPHEUS ODYSSEY

AUSTIN
Copyright Bernadette Seymour

MACAULEY

The right of Bernadette Seymour to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers. Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library. ISBN 978 1 84963 088 7

www.austinmacauley.com First Published (2012) Austin & Macauley Publishers Ltd. 25 Canada Square Canary Wharf London E14 5LB

Printed & Bound in Great Britain

Sleep in peace with God Harry, we love and miss you so very much. RIP 21.8.93 14.12.08 The quote from 'Oh Danny Boy' was written by Frederick Weatherly in 1910.

CHAPTER ONE
PASSAGE TO PATRA

After a yearlong search for a yacht and a joint decision to leave England, my husband Dudley and I took a giant step and left the rat race to become liveaboard yachties. The impetus for us making this decision had been Admetus a 32 foot Sadler based in the Ionian. Dudley and I had spent very happy holidays on board her in the company of her Captain named Pete. Not having sailed before and having a great fear of the sea meant that it was a surprise to everyone when I returned from the first holiday totally smitten. Living on board full time turned out to be very different from our two week holidays and our first 18 months on board had proved to be a massive learning curve. These first few months had been filled with a lot of soul searching and troubles but finally we were ready to take our first steps into the unknown. Orpheus, our 40 ft Dromor Apollo Plus, was on the move and we were about to face our first sailing challenges in unknown territory. We had deliberately spent our first year sailing waters that were familiar to us to give ourselves a chance to settle into our new life and to become acquainted with the yacht. Orpheus and her crew felt they were ready to begin their own odyssey, or were they? During these first few months I had grown extremely fond of the Ionian, Levkas in particular, so when the morning came for our departure I was naturally very upset. Our friends stood waving on the quayside and although I had managed to stay dry eyed through the hugs and kisses the minute we cast off the tears fell. I cried through the final farewells, through the waving and indeed the full length of the Levkas canal! I was absolutely positive that there would be nowhere in the world to rival the beautiful island of Lefkada. I remembered all the happy times we had spent on holidays with our Captain Pete around the islands and I remembered all the wonderful people we had met. The temptation to turn back was very great as each memory gave way to another flood of tears. Harry, our little West Highland White, sat on my lap looking up at me with love in his eyes obviously wondering why I was so upset and Dud was

clearly torn between impatience and love. He had told me time and time again that this was why we had come to live aboard a yacht. We had come to travel, to see places and have adventures. Is that not what we wanted? he asked me in an uncertain and pleading way, as he could clearly see I was very upset. I simply couldnt answer his question. Somewhere between the southern end of the Levkas Canal and Palairos on the mainland I managed to stop crying and tried my hardest to look forward to what was to come. Dudley was right, there was so much to see and a part of me wanted to visit these new places but my heart was very heavy that night as we sat moored in the harbour at Palairos. Dudley had taken off on foot to Vounaki, the neighbouring village, to collect a second-hand spinnaker pole that was for sale for 20 euros. He had always insisted we needed one and this was such a bargain he had decided we should make the short trip to collect it on our first day out. This meant that not only could he collect the pole but could also ensure everything on board was working correctly prior to taking ourselves off into unknown territory. Whilst Dud was away Harry and I settled down at the chart table and started what was to be the first of many evenings deciding where the next stop should be, what weather conditions were reported and what co-ordinates I would need to programme into the GPS. Dudley had made it clear that he was happy for me to undertake all the navigational duties and for me to decide where we went, he really didnt mind where we headed as long as we were on the move. Having spoken to many people about their experiences in the Aegean and asked their advice I had a rough plan in mind of the direction I wished to travel. I had not found it very helpful when the majority of people, when asked about the Aegean, would shake their heads and say through an intake of breath Oh, the Aegean, its windy there, you dont want to go there. Well yes we did want to go there and that was why we were asking! Finally we were given a very sensible answer Get as far north and east as you can before the beginning of the Meltemi. The Meltemi is the strong but predictable prevailing wind that blows in the Aegean through the summer months, July and August bringing the worst winds. At last I had something to work with and something constructive to base my passage planning on. We had left Levkas early May and my rough plan took us through the Corinth Canal, up the inland sea between the Greek mainland and the big island of Evia and across the northern Aegean. I knew I didnt want to undertake long sailing days and we also knew that whilst we were on

passage we wanted to see as many places as we could along the way. My inexperience of passage planning led me into a false sense of security in that I had not researched such things as currents and local winds in the Aegean. I soon found out, once we were underway, that the Aegean had lots of both and I had not taken account of any of these whilst planning our direction of travel. Having said that we didnt experience too many problems as a result of this. Dud returned with his spinnaker pole and I announced that having consulted the pilot book I thought we should make another short hop moving southwards to Astakos a village tucked just inside a small chain of islands known as the Dragoneras. Astakos means Lobster in Greek so we were fully expecting to find a fishing port and village but this knowledge did not prepare us for the reality. The sailing had been light and easy but when we reached the cluster of small islands with rocky reefs to avoid I was not so keen to keep sailing. We motored our way through the islands following the GPS waypoints I had entered and arrived safely at the harbour without hitting a thing I was so very pleased with myself. This was only day one and the responsibility of navigating in strange waters was already starting to make me worry and wonder if I was cut out for the task. I had heard people talk of Astakos in glowing terms and yet after we moored safely for the night and I had a chance to look around, whilst taking Harry for his evening constitutional, I wondered what it was they had seen. It was, as I had expected, quite a commercial place with only a few houses by the harbour. The village up the hill undoubtedly offered a wonderful view for the residents but down at the harbour all there seemed to be were restaurants. By the sheer number of tables laid out on the quayside it was obvious they did get very busy which I took to be an accolade for the food they served but somehow the place left me cold and wanting more. An evening of quick contemplation led to the decision to travel a little further the following day and round the headland into the Gulf of Patra. We had been sailing around the Ionian on and off for approximately five years and had lived on board for 18 months, yet this would be the furthest away from Levkada we had ever been. To us, at this time, it seemed as though the following days journey was to be the first of many big adventures; Orpheus was starting her Odyssey and I was praying for help and guidance to see us through the days ahead. Whilst planning the following days trip I had to check to see if water

and provisioning would be available at Messolonghi, our next port of call. We had made the decision before leaving not to stock the boat with too much food as we planned to be making day hops and presumed we would be able to purchase what we needed on a daily basis. It appeared the harbour we were headed for was quite a distance outside the shopping area at Messolonghi so before we left Astakos we decided to purchase the necessary fresh foods such as bread, vegetables and meat. Dud went into the butchers as I waited outside with Harry, he seemed to take a very long time inside which allowed me a quiet moment of contemplation for the forthcoming trip. He came out with empty arms and relayed the story that the very unhelpful butcher with an extremely brisk attitude had replied Oxi, (no) to his request for minced beef and a tut with a nod (which also meant no) to his request for chicken fillet. This body language reply was closely followed by You have whole chicken, at which point Dud had thanked him politely and left with nothing. I wasnt too disappointed as I could remember the day he would have taken the whole chicken just to be polite instead of standing up for himself. I was pleased that he had become more assertive in his dealings with the locals as something told me we were going to need him to be strong. Harry, grateful for the extra walk, jogged along beside us until we finally found another butcher who couldnt have been more friendly and told us we could have whatever we wanted. We soon found that there were plenty of shops to choose from and found everything we wanted and were soon back on Orpheus ready to pull up anchor and be under way. I would be lying if I said I was looking forward to the trip with enthusiasm in mind. It was with trepidation that I walked to the bow and indicated the lay of the anchor chain to Dudley and made ready to pull it up. Once again we motored through the Dragoneras and passed the island of Oxia. Once clear of land we realised that there was insufficient wind to sail and continued motoring our way southwards and around the headland turning into the Gulf of Patra. As we entered the Gulf I noticed a marked difference in the sea state. There had been no wind to speak of yet the sea state had suddenly turned very lumpy with a swell of 1.5 to 2 metres. This concept of sea swell but no wind was a new phenomenon to us but something we would come to live with through the months that followed. Trusting to my navigation, as nothing could be seen of the buoyed channel into Messolonghi, we headed directly for the waypoint I had set just outside. As we neared the point the buoys came into view and we entered the channel. It was such a pleasant surprise to find that unlike the Levkas canal we were greeted with the aroma of wild herbs and flowers growing along the

banks. As we motored the length of the channel we saw little white buildings down at the waters edge with rickety pontoons and jetties. Shallow marshland at the sides of the channel housed shy birds that we could hear but not see; it reminded me of the Norfolk Broads that lay on the east coast of England. It wasnt as green and beautiful as the Broads of our own home county of Norfolk but it was quaint and eye catching in every way with bursts of colourful wild flowers growing everywhere. As we neared the end of the channel, Dud started making ready with the fenders and lines and concentrated on looking where we were to moor. Unfortunately our pilot book didnt show the new pontoons that were before us and in amongst the confusion, whilst I was again at the helm, we nudged into the shallow sandy edge of the channel and were aground. I started to feel like I was under some kind of curse, this was the third time we had been aground since living on board and I had been at the helm every time! Id like to be able to say that there were mitigating circumstances in each case. I would like to insist I was actually inside the markers at the edge of the channel when we went aground, which we were, but the simple fact is if I had been looking where we were going instead of trying to work out where to head for, I would have avoided the situation we now found ourselves in. Dud put the engine in reverse and Orpheus quickly drifted off the sand without much ado. With a glare he took the helm and said nothing about the incident until after we had come alongside the new concrete pontoons in the harbour. He looked at me with eyes that could melt butter and magnanimously said, Dont worry, its all ok, we got off and were here now. I hate it when hes so reasonable, had it been the other way around I would have given him a right earful! For the benefit of those who have not read Orpheus is Another World I should explain my character. I was born and bred in Norfolk, the East coast County of England. Im very proud to have a Norfolk accent and have some very peculiar sayings to go with it. Dudley having been born in Suffolk moved to Norfolk in the sixties and enjoys regaling friends with stories relating to the slowness of Norfolk folk. Anyway, Im blunt and to the point and will tell you what I think if invited; in fact my directness can sometimes put me in awkward situations when the brain doesnt engage first. Im hoping this is explanation enough for expressions used, such as the one above! A peaceful night followed in the harbour at Messolonghi. We didnt have bikes on board at this time and the town was just too far to walk to with Harry. Harry had ruptured his cruciate ligament when he was one year old and now his legs were not as good as they should be for a ten year old. Since

leaving England he simply would not be left on board alone so this evening we had to settle for a walk around the harbour. As we walked we were treated to more glorious wildlife in the form of flowers and birds but Harry was to have a special treat as he had his first introduction to masses of tiny baby frogs. The harbour environment at first glance wasnt much to look at but once you took yourself beyond the immediate area there were many wonderful things to be found. That evening as I considered my navigation for the following day I decided we would head further eastwards to Navpaktos which was situated just the other side of the Patra Bridge. Morning arrived for us early as we heard a yacht nearby running their engine and making to leave, it was only 6am! We went back to sleep not realising the relevance of an early start to the day and awoke later, prepared ourselves and made ready to leave around 9am, which we considered a more reasonable time of day to start sailing. Our innocence in the ways of Aegean sailing would have been obvious to any experienced sailor but we were blindly feeling our way. We exited the Messolonghi Channel and passed a yacht heading in, who shouted over to us Go back, go back, the waves are too high. Not sure what was happening we continued on our way into a flat calm sea, not a ripple, not a whiff of wind. I suggested to Dud that I might have misheard what was shouted or perhaps they were having a joke with us; the conditions were so calm. Either way we found ourselves a little confused and somewhat apprehensive about the comment. We continued heading towards the Patra Bridge and just as it was coming into view in the distance we noticed a southern cardinal buoy, I only remember this cardinal so well because it was around this area that we turned a slight bend around the land mass and wham! The wind came out of nowhere increasing faster than you could say Father Christmas. From nothing the wind rose up to a force 6 and the flat sea state turned into a running choppy 3 metre swell that was forcing breaking waves over the bow. The engine couldnt cope with the force of the water and we were making only 2 knots speed against it so Dud suggested we get the sails out and try to sail with it. The distance we had left to go that day and a quick calculation of hours worth of tacking to make way, not taking account of the force of the current against us, I said through tightened lips Not on your giddy aunt, get me out of here! Now I know I come from seafaring Caister stock, one of my ancestors being Solomon Brown one of the brave Caister lifeboat men who stand by their motto Caister men never turn back, but I was definitely not going to sail through that.

Dud turned the yacht around so we had the wind and swell behind us, we pulled out the genoa and sailed back past the cardinal heading once again towards Messolonghi. Even with a full genoa we couldnt outrun the waves, the force and speed of the water being pushed through the two landmasses either side meant that it simply rolled up our sugar scoop and over the helm seat. I was not amused and this being my first real encounter with big seas on Orpheus I was somewhat anxious to get back into the protected basin at the end of the buoyed channel. As we rounded the bend at the cardinal the waters became calm and the wind died away, so much so we had to motor the rest of the distance back into Messolonghi. Not long after mooring up again the yacht that had left at 6am came back into the harbour. We later found out that he had managed to get within two miles of the bridge when the wind struck and no matter what he did he couldnt make any ground to close the gap on the bridge, they had been forced to turn back! Obviously their knowledge of the winds in the area had given them the benefit of knowing they needed an early start but sadly they had misjudged by only one hour. The lady who had initially warned us about the sea state came past to let us know that tomorrows weather would be good and this would be a better day to try to pass the bridge; we resigned ourselves to another day in harbour. Spotting some old aircraft at the far side of the harbour Dud, being very keen to see what they were, decided we should take a walk. Dud has flown for over 30 years from the right hand seat of private light aircraft and at the age of 60 finally gained his PPL as a result of a gift from his children. His knowledge of aircraft is extensive so it was no surprise to me when he reported that along with two missiles, four tanks and a land mobile there had been a Thunderstreak, T32 Shooting Star Trainer, Northrop F5, Talon and an F104 Starfighter! We learned from other yachties in the harbour that it was a good 25 minute walk into town and we knew Harry could never make that distance so we settled down for an early night. Having learned from the days experiences we realised that tomorrow would be an early morning start. At 6.15am I was the one trying to convince Dud to get up and get under way. Anyone who knows me well will know that I love my sleep, so much so I am positive I could win a gold medal for England in this discipline! I learned within these first few days that when I am sailing my nerves take over and my body goes into survival mode, if this meant getting up early

then that is what I would do. I knew what awaited us around the corner and I wanted to be under the bridge before the afternoon wind kicked in. Knowing what the wind and sea state could be like I was very keen not only to pass the bridge but to be well clear of the waters around it. I decided to bypass Navpaktos and to head straight for Trizonia, a place we had heard much about. At 7am we were off, along with a few other yachts that had been sitting out the bad weather. Again we passed the south cardinal and I stilled myself for what was to come, the slight bend negotiated, the bridge came into view and off we went again. The wind rose from nothing to 23 knots in a blink, the sea state became choppy but was only 1 metre at this time. The wind and swell were directly on the bow and we still had 11 nautical miles to go to the bridge, I wasnt sure we could make it but Dud decided we could. We ploughed and heaved our way through the swell as Harry sat looking at me with the saddest expression. He could barely stand and found it impossible to sit as he slithered around the deck as every wave crashed up the bow. I picked him up, hunkered down and prepared myself for a long journey. Dud helmed as I cuddled Harry and the conditions slightly worsened but slowly we made ground on the bridge and at three miles out Dud called up the bridge on VHF channel 11 asking permission to pass. They asked for our vessel name and length and told us to pass South Channel keeping three pillars to the left. We had to call up again to confirm when one mile out. This seemed to be the first positive action during the day and gave us both quite a boost, we still had three miles to go but we were getting there. At one mile out we were given the all clear to pass and approached the bridge leaving the required three pillars to the left. As we got closer and closer I looked up the mast and then at the bridge. I checked again and again until I couldnt stay quiet any longer and I blurted out I dont think we can get under, how tall is the mast? At this point we were almost committed to passing under and Id spooked Dud enough that he turned a sharp circle away from the bridge and stood off for a second. I dont know, came the reply. We sat looking at the bridge, up the mast and then at each other with a lump in our throats. This is silly, I said with a new-found bravado I didnt feel Other yachts bigger than us go under here and they wouldnt tell us to go under if we couldnt clear it would they? Dud agreed and very slowly we crept forward watching the top of the mast every inch of the way. The bow passed under the bridge and as we inched forward we held our breath

and watched as the mast slid underneath the structure. I swear there couldnt have been more than four to five inches gap between the mast top and the bottom of the bridge. Without mishap we cleared the other side with a whoop of joy, our lungs glad to be working again as we had held our breath so long passing underneath. Harry barked his glee joining in and gave a tail quiver, never being a dog that went for a full wag, and we congratulated ourselves on a successful passing of the Gulf of Patra and headed forwards into the Gulf of Corinth.

CHAPTER TWO
CUTTING THROUGH CORINTHIA

Having passed under the Patra Bridge our heart rates returned to normal we were pleasantly surprised to find that the wind being channelled around the land had turned to slightly fore of the beam and was now a constant 21 knots. We pulled out all the sails and in one long tack from the bridge we headed towards Trizonia. Slowly the sea state calmed and five miles out from Trizonia the wind died away completely and we had to motor the remaining distance into the harbour. All in all it had been quite a day which was rounded off very nicely as we entered the harbour by a dolphin lazing around the shallows. It didnt seem to give us a second thought as we passed by. Once inside we were greeted with a harbour full of what appeared to be abandoned boats and were forced to moor alongside the outer wall. Before leaving Levkas we had been told by many people that if nothing else we were to make sure we went to Trizonia. People had raved about the wondrous little island in the Gulf of Corinth. We had heard many tales about the yacht club there and were encouraged to visit Alison the owner who made it all worth the visit. We had even read a book about the island paradise written by a lady who had made it her home many years ago. Such was the hype about this place that when we arrived and saw nothing but abandoned yachts and rust-bucket ships left to rot we looked at each other both saying Is this it? Never being people to rush into early judgement we decided to settle the boat for the night and take a walk around the harbour. Walking from the pontoon we were greeted with a pyramid of trash sat on top of a bed of ash. Obviously this was where the locals had decided to burn their rubbish, right at the end of the harbour; lovely we thought. We continued around the quayside to find houses and shops and were very pleasantly surprised when we found at the far side of the platia (town square) another stretch of coastline that overlooked the mainland. It struck us that this little village was very pretty, very quiet and clean and appeared to

be a very safe anchorage. Still we didnt seem to be struck with the Oooos and Ahhhhhs that everyone else had experienced. Dud had discovered a slight water leak in the engine during his regular daily checks so we decided to stay here for a day whilst he tried to locate the leak and fix it. We also had a problem with one of Harrys ears. Some time before leaving Levkas I had assisted the local vet in piercing a blood sac in Harrys right ear. For some unknown reason his left ear, over the last two days, had developed a blood sac the same. There were no vets on Trizonia at the time but I was happy, having seen the procedure first hand, that I could treat him if we could just let him rest for the day. This may all be sounding rather dramatic to the reader and I would have felt the same had I not been away from England for some time. Since living in Greece I had taken Harry to the vet several times to have little lumps removed and for general check-ups and had come to accept and embrace their ways. The first time I took Harry it had been quite a shock to be expected to assist but thereafter I thought it an excellent idea from the animals point of view. I noticed from the outset that Harry was less stressed by the treatment if I was present; he seemed so much more trusting and receptive. Three experiences at the surgery table meant that I had hardened myself to carrying out minor procedures and was ready to help heal my little boy again. Dudley cleaned and sterilised a surgical knife and I prepared clean cotton wool and antiseptic spray. I thought that my love was great enough that I could cut the puffy sack myself. Laid down with the bad ear uppermost I held on to the cold steel knife in my right hand, the ear in my left and prepared to cut.. my mind said move, my heart said you have to do it yet my arm remained still. I swallowed hard began to sweat and the hand began to shake and I knew there was absolutely no way I could do it. I pleaded with Dud telling him he would have to do it; it couldnt be left we had no idea where the next vet would be found. If it kept growing I wasnt sure what other damage would be done internally and I was certain it would be better for Harry to have the pressure released as soon as possible. I laid out the towels and cotton wool, the antiseptic spray was at hand and I explained to Dud all he had to do was slightly nick the skin making it deep enough to penetrate the sac to release the blood. I emphasised for good measure that he shouldnt worry about pain just make sure the first stab was the only one for Harrys sake. Dud looked calm enough, the knife now in his hand looked steady, everything prepared I laid Harrys head on my lap and offered up his ear.

Dud took one deep breath and made the incision, I held onto Harry as the nick was made with quick precision and a yelp of pain from my little boy. This would have been ok if it wasnt for the fact that having made the cut Dud turned a whiter shade of pale and started flapping all my nicely prepared pieces of towelling around the cockpit in minor panic. So much was his distress at what he had done and the pain he had caused he really didnt know what to do with himself. I shouted at him to leave it and sit down as I started clearing the blood from Harrys ear. The sac immediately deflated and cleared, it was a good clean cut so once bathed in antiseptic spray Harry walked away looking nothing more than a little bemused but quite happy. It was almost as though he could feel that what we had done was for his own good. The traumatic experience over I found Dud sitting in the cockpit still looking a little shaken. I told him how well he had done; I took a treat for him to give to Harry who came over the same as always with love and kisses. He took the treat, ate it and laid on Duds lap for a cuddle; it was only then that the colour returned to Duds face and he realised that what he had done was for the best. That evening the ear became slightly swollen but with bathing and antiseptic spray the wound healed in two days and by four you could barely see we had touched him. It truly is amazing how quickly dogs heal and how quickly they forget the pain we inflict on them. That evening, as had been suggested to us, we walked up to the Yacht Club and met the owner, Alison. We sat on a picturesque wooden balcony that reminded me of an old colonial wooden porch surrounded by flowers. We were greeted by the lovely Alison who was a vision in a flowing dress that seemed to fit in with the surroundings. A cold beer and a wonderfully presented meal put all three of us in a more relaxed mood after the days events. The evening passed with a quiet stillness that in itself made Trizonia beautiful. No motorcycles roaring up and down, no discos, no dogs, bars or flotillas. I decided that had Trizonia not been given such a highly perfect must see recommendation from so many people I would have seen it in a different light. I would have overlooked the dump and imperfections and seen the true peaceful, harmonious beauty of the place. Maybe I had expected too much because of what others had said. To me there were many places around the Ionian just as good as this little island but it had to be said, it did have something to offer. When we left Trizonia the following day I vowed never again to listen to what others had to say. One mans heaven is another mans hell. From that day forth I would learn from others but only judge on my own experiences

because obviously my thoughts had been completely different to those that had passed through Trizonia before us. Live and learn, look and leave or love and lament! It would not be fair for me to move on with our tales to tell without taking the time, especially for those who knew Alison, to show our respects in her memory. Sadly two years after our visit to her yacht club Alison was taken ill and passed from this world into the next. People with character always leave a big hole when they are taken from us and many people within the yachting community mourned her passing. We had known her for only a short time and still we were part of those saddened and left feeling very mortal for she was taken from us at such an early age. Our thoughts, prayers and condolences go to all those that love and remember her. The morning forecast indicated the wind to be SE6 turning to a W7, this was one of the highest wind forecasts that we had experienced thus far and I was unsure whether we should be leaving or staying another day. The forecast nearer the Corinth Canal indicated VRB 3 (variable force 3) so I made the judgement we were perhaps headed away from the weather and we could take the chance. We had a wonderful close-hauled sail most of the way to Galaxidhi, the average wind being 14 kts that decreased resulting in our motoring to the harbour. The days sailing had been exhilarating but now we had arrived the nerves started to kick in. The approach to the harbour appeared, according to the pilot book, to be strewn with isolated rocks and reefs. My inexperience got the better of me and I was totally convinced that we were going to run aground again. My eyes never left the depth meter as Dud helmed us through the route I had planned taking account of the rocks and reefs. By the time we had finished our mooring process, again alongside, I was having a navigational nervous breakdown! The quayside was quite busy but we had managed to get a mooring alongside a concrete jetty that looked newly built and paved. We were sure at the time that a taverna would take over the space for seating as a little temple structure had been built for decoration, however, we have been told that this jetty was destroyed in a severe winter storm and no longer exists. Calming down from the approach I took a look at our surroundings and enjoyed everything my eyes settled on. This place was indicative of everything I considered a Greek port should be. It housed an ornate church, brightly painted and colourful fishing boats, a windmill overlooked the bay high on a hill of lush green trees. The mountainside was stepped in plateaus holding various crops and the local men were fishing along the quayside.

I suddenly felt so very lucky to be able to be in such a beautiful place and to be able to be part of it all whilst being sat in the cockpit of my own boat, my own home. I was completely enamoured with Galaxidhi, I found it much more appealing than Trizonia which reinforced my plan not to expect anything from anywhere and just make up my own mind once Id had a chance to experience it. As the days sunshine began to cool we took Harry for his evening stroll around the village. As with most Greek villages there was a small park area around the Platia with shops for all needs. We followed a cobbled path that led up to the heart of the village and enjoyed the quaint houses and views. After we descended we walked around to the other side of the harbour and both made our minds up that this was a very pleasant and clean place. I was amused to see they had a floating duck house that Im sure was a ploy to ensure that the ducks left their deposits there and not on the local fishing boats. We filled with water and fuel with the first of what was to be many little Greek men offering this service on the quaysides everywhere. We asked if we could also wash the boat down as it was covered in red rain and crusty salt and he said this would be okay. We always like to ask as some places have serious water shortages and it somehow doesnt seem right to us to use water unnecessarily in these circumstances. As we chatted with this friendly man we gleaned information about where we could catch the local bus to Delphi as we had plans to take a trip there the following day. My early morning walk with Harry was filled with further delights of Galaxidi as I discovered just past the duck house a mini childrens fairground that encouraged people to love the forest and support a tree. This was one of the most radical, modern and hip things I had ever witnessed in Greece. I was further surprised to see a painting on the side of a building showing children of all colours and creeds holding hands. This beautiful village portraying all the old-time customs and ways of the Greek people had managed to merge the past with the future and were embracing all steps forwards. They had managed to find a perfect middle ground that still held local values and yet held hope for the future without spoiling anything and without making the statements too political. I was very taken with Galaxidi and could see why the Athenians chose it as a holiday location. The only downside, as Dud pointed out, was the limited mooring space for visiting yachts. We had been lucky enough to get alongside the concrete jetty that had room for four other yachts and felt this

beautiful place was worth every bit of my worry navigating the reefs and shallows to get to see it. Having warned our neighbours that we were going out for the day, we left Harry to bark. He hated to be left alone. In England he had always been left during the day as we both worked but since leaving England and living on the boat he would not be left, he hated it. When left we had been told by many that he barked incessantly and so we tried not to leave him except for emergency situations. Dud had argued that we should not visit Delphi because of Harry and I argued that I had sailed all this way and there was not even the slightest chance that I should be this close and not visit the site. I won the argument and so apologised in advance to our neighbours knowing what a noisy day they had ahead. We caught the bus from the main square and were treated to a ride through mountainous scenery with spectacular views. The bushes were obviously in some sort of spring glory as it was now the middle of May and they were displaying yellow, orange and red leaves that could be mistaken for Autumnal colours. We rounded two sand quarries and found ourselves in Ita where we had time to kill so we walked around the new marina. The pontoons were in place but facilities had not been connected, as the marina was still incomplete. We are led to believe that it is still the same today because the pontoons were built with European funding and once it was gone no further work has been carried out. This we were to find over the next few years was not a strange phenomenon in Greece. 15 minutes later we picked up the connecting bus that took us to Delphi and again the views were breathtaking. The visibility was so clear we could see all the way across the bay to Galaxidi, I gave an involuntary shudder as this high up I could clearly see the reefs that we would have to renegotiate when we left. At Delphi, Dud and I decided to visit the museum first and as we walked around we found it hard to even start to comprehend the culture they had all those thousands of years ago. One particular statue of a small child with a cherub face stopped me in my tracks; I simply stood and stared and wondered how the creator could make such a small face look so realistic. The more I looked the more detail I noticed. She was made of marble and yet they had managed to make her tiny ears so delicate. Not only did she have tiny lobes but also the tiny holes in them indicated they were pierced. Her skin was smoothed to perfection and her eyes, although totally white marble looked into mine with feeling. A truly talented sculptor had created her and I appreciated the chance to look at her all those years later.

As we walked around the museum we were aware that there were four tour groups being taken around at the same time and Dud became very grateful for the museum being so well organised and well laid out. Crowds were not the best thing to help enjoy such things as the Sphinx, the twins and the wall murals but we did. We were unhindered by the crowds and managed to see everything in a relaxed way and after consulting the Oracle we took ourselves out to walk around the archaeological site. Delphi was the first archaeological site Dudley and I had visited together. Since this time we have enjoyed many sites and always we walk them in wonder and awe. We looked at mosaics depicting all kinds of animals, fish and birds; it made us feel humble to be able to be at such a place. The history books never really prepare you for the power of the place. To think they stood here, they had the same animals we have now they used similar utensils and yet the thousands of years spanning between are just incomprehensible. Dud found the site incredible and was very surprised at the number of structures that were there to view. He was even more astounded when he discovered that the Temple of Apollo that we were looking at, built 500 BC actually stood on the same site as the temple that had been built 2,000 years earlier!! How can the modern human mind even start to relate to a time so long ago and yet here it all was before us to enjoy. On the bus journey back we compared the price of entry into Delphi to that of the Acropolis and decided that our days trip had been a hundred times more enjoyable and certainly much better value. Now we had enjoyed ourselves it was time to rush back to Harry and face the music with the neighbours. We arrived back early afternoon and were told that our little dog must have the stamina of a bull as he had barked all day. They remarked how amazing it was that he could bark that long and not lose his voice! In amongst my apologies they said We hope everything is okay because for about five minutes he went very quiet and we thought he may have hurt himself but he started up again so we figured he was alright. As I entered the boat my little boy went very quiet and sat on his bed looking very innocent. The gentle waft of dog excrement met my nose and I looked down to see that Harry had left his protest all over the cabin floor. Now we knew what he had been up to when he went quiet for five minutes! Taking advantage of our water supply I washed the boat floor and our dusty clothes and spent the evening wondering where to go next. The

weather forecast for Korinthiakos seemed somewhat vague. It had been some time since I had received an accurate weather forecast on the Navtex and I was beginning to think we were in a no-mans-land for weather. It seemed as though some days we had the south Ionian weather others Aegean weather, so hoping for the best I decided to head across the Gulf for a town named Kiato. We had already set off that morning into a calm sea state when we received the morning forecast indicating NW 6 near gale 7 for the South Ionian. Would we get that or wouldnt we? Should we go back or shouldnt we? The responsibility of making all the decisions alone concerning weather and navigation were beginning to take a toll. I wanted Dud to join in but he simply said he would do whatever I thought. I decided we might as well chance it and see what would happen; I wished that I hadnt. The actual sailing was not difficult at all and we started out with just a genoa on a beam reach that looked to be taking us straight to Kiato. Unfortunately the wind gradually increased and turned slightly to the aft quarter, when it reached 18 knots we reefed down to half a genoa. This turned out to be a very good thing to do as within no time at all we had 27 knots of wind constant with gusts of more and were doing 7.5 knots with just our half genoa. The sea state started to build quickly and was a good two metres when I was helming. I misjudged a rogue wave that hit us on the beam at the same time as a gust and was aghast to see not only the toe-rail disappearing under the water but half the running board as well. Dud seemed to lose a little faith in my helming ability and asked if I wanted him to take over. Out of sheer stubbornness I wanted to say no, I can do it but then I looked down and saw the look on Harrys face and decided my place was sitting in the cockpit taking care of my dog who was again slithering everywhere on his unsteady legs. His legs were not the best these days; we had started giving him a small dose of glucasome sulphate a human herbal remedy for joints. The vet had said that as it was herbal it could do no harm and it seemed to improve him somewhat but in the current sea state he was clearly struggling. The sea continued tossing us all over the place for the remainder of the journey and the sky darkened and threatened rain. Dud helmed us there and Harry and I sat cuddling in the cockpit as warm as could be out of the wind and sharing our body heat. At Kiato we found a very large and open harbour awaiting us and once around the outer breakwater we found shelter from the swell and wind and moored alongside the quay wall. It was completely empty. We didnt know

whether it was because of the weather conditions or because it was still early in the year for people to be sailing. Either way we had the huge harbour to ourselves except for a few fishing boats. Once we had settled in our mooring I took a look around the landscape and saw a huge church dominating the town. It was so big it made me wonder how on earth we had managed to come into moor without my noticing it straight away. It made me realise how worried, nervous and focused I was becoming as we approached these new and unknown harbours. Wanting a closer look at this magnificent structure I grabbed the binoculars to zoom in and then handed them to Dud for a look but he seemed more interested in something else on the outer edge of town. Guess what I can see? he said with a big smile and giving me no opportunity to guess he said A Lidl Supermarket. We had already begun to realise that the cheap supermarkets were few and far between and when the opportunity arose we took full advantage of them. Our food budget had almost doubled since leaving Levkas having to purchase everyday items from local village supermarkets that marked their prices higher. The luxury of a Lidl meant that we would be taking a walk around the harbour to stock up, this meant we would have to leave Harry to bark once again and as the harbour was empty we decided there was no time like the present with no neighbours to disturb! That evening a Dutch yacht came alongside behind us and it was only when we heard a bit of a ruckus that we went out to enquire if there was a problem. Apparently they had dropped their keys overboard. Dud had just eaten a big evening meal and was not prepared to go into the water with a setting sun and a full stomach but said he would try diving for them in the morning. The man thanked him saying he didnt know how they had sunk because he had them on a floatable key ring. When asked how many keys were on the ring he said seven or eight!! That was a lesson learned for us and we immediately went back to our key rings and checked that the weight of the keys didnt exceed the buoyancy of the ring. The following morning Dud dived to recover the key ring but in 10 metres of depth with murky water and visibility almost zero he didnt stand a chance. He felt around and tried his best but failed. He came back on board very dejected that he hadnt been successful and again reminded me of the benefits of having a scuba system on board. This had been a long-standing dispute between us as Dud wanted the equipment and although I understood the benefits I questioned where we would store it. The argument remains unsettled as I said then and am saying now, If you can find somewhere to store it, you can have it.

Whilst I stowed our purchases from the previous day and prepared the navigation for the following days sail Dud went off into town to explore. From what I had seen walking through I had gained the impression that it was a functional place but unfeeling despite having a very ornate church. When Dud came back he told me he had found hardware stores, boutiques, a pedestrian street with childrens shops, pharmacies, hot food take-aways, restaurants and tavernas. He said there was simply everything a person would need so why did I feel nothing when I looked at this compact town that had everything? No time to ponder as we had a big day ahead. The following morning we were to make our last stop before passing through the Corinth Canal. After breakfast we were off and eager to get to this final destination as once we were through the Canal we would be, for the first time, in the Aegean.

CHAPTER THREE
IMMERSED IN THE INLAND SEA

We set off into a still morning, a total contrast from the previous two windy days. A windless day meant we had to motor all the way to the Yacht Harbour just outside the entrance to the western side of the Corinth Canal. As with the normal stresses of arriving somewhere unknown one never knew what to expect. The pilot book gave a good indication of suggested depths and layouts but so far we had found most of these in our book to be outdated. We had grown accustomed to tentatively edging into these harbours to see the lay of the pontoons and quays, to look at what other yachts were doing such as stern-to or alongside. We would look to see if there were any rings or bollards for us to tie to. So many things for us to think about at once so we would look, assess and then stand off whilst we made final decisions where to moor and how. We had decided to moor alongside the end of a floating pontoon, which on first glance appeared to be the only space available. As we were on the approach a man started to whistle and shout indicating we should moor tucked in a corner. I told Dud to ignore him that we had made our minds up to go alongside the pontoon. As usual Dud chose to ignore me and ended up putting us in a totally awkward situation. He followed the man waving and came alongside a high stone wall. Unfortunately we were on a right-angled corner and would have damaged the bow if we went any further. Where is he putting us? I questioned, Dud said nothing and did nothing. The man indicated he wanted our line so I threw it to him, I didnt realise that was just so we couldnt go anywhere. I was already busy trying to lift our fenders, as they were much too low for the stone wall, they had been set for a low pontoon. As I was doing this the man started to pull on a stanchion and walk us round into a mooring that would be impossible to get out of in the morning when we wanted to get an early start. No way! I shouted, the man ignored me and kept pulling. I looked at the stern just as the man was causing it to scrape along the right-angled

corner What are you doing? I shouted, Stop it and fend you silly man you are damaging our boat. Dud still just stood there doing nothing which only went a very long way to inflaming my desire to do someone some serious damage. I yanked on the line and glared You are damaging our yacht, stop NOW!! Ok lady, you are in now, was all he had to say. After Dud had come alive again to tie off our rope the man stood there looking at us with his hand out saying Money, I help you in. Dud went below to get some money to give him and I ran down after him saying Dont you dare! I went back up and looked the man straight in the eyes and said First you force me to moor where I dont want to, you put me in a position where I cant get out in the morning, youve damaged my boat and now you think Im going to pay you? WELL THINK AGAIN. NO, NO WAY! Dud looked at me totally aghast as this strangers face changed from innocent, poor and feed me to murderous. I went back down below to sort out the boat after the days travel only to become aware that the man was still standing there, staring hands on hips in a very offensive and threatening way. I stormed up on the side deck and squared up to him mirroring his stance, I continually made the Greek gesture meaning no, which is an eye movements upwards to the left with a slight movement of the head. He finally got the drift that he was getting nothing from us and sloped away. The minute he left I told Dud we were moving. Amongst his protests we gently walked ourselves out of the impossible mooring and took ourselves alongside the pontoon as originally planned. After re-settling ourselves I told Dud very forcefully NEVER to do that to me again. He had caused the problem and yet he had found it impossible to sort it out, the whole situation marred what was to be a wonderful experience. Barking dogs and a very bad swell kept me awake most of the night so I was not in the best frame of mind when I had to take Harry for his morning constitutional at 0600 hours. As I watched the sunrise, sauntering along the quay, I rounded the end to be confronted with three dogs, obviously the night-time howlers. All three spying Harry came running towards me with hackles raised, bared teeth and barking. Without thinking I picked Harry up into my arms and whacked at the dogs with the hard handle of his wander lead, luckily a local Greek chap seeing what had happened came and shouted at the dogs and they backed away. I slunk back to the boat and relayed the experience to Dud who, as always, said gentle things and hugged us both and made the nightmare go away. Still my experience in this place had been such a bad one that I would

be in no rush to come back here and if I did I would be sure to stick to my guns when it came to the mooring process, even if I had to wrestle the helm off Dud to do so. We radioed the Canal office requesting an estimated time of opening and we were told 30 minutes. The anticipation was almost tangible, it was clearly obvious which yachts were waiting to traverse the canal into the Aegean. We all sat on deck, VHF radios on, waiting and waiting; nodding at each other in recognition of the task we had in common. When the time came we all filtered out of the harbour and stood off at the Canal entrance. When the call came to pass, monster sized iron gates dropped to the seabed allowing us clear passage through as we all moved forward in a very gentlemanly and orderly fashion. At first I was totally unimpressed and wondered what all the fuss had been about. The land mass on either side was quite low and sloping and didnt appear to be any more inspiring than the Messolonghi canal that we had left only a few days before. It wasnt as pretty and the colours and magnificence that I had seen in pictures didnt ring true to the reality. Slowly as we motored through the full glory unfolded, the further we entered the canal the heights intensified the colours came to life and finally we found ourselves speechless. When we were midway the engineering genius of the canal became apparent. The cliff edges were at right angles to the water and as we looked we questioned what it had taken to achieve this engineering feat. We didnt have to wait long to find answers to our questions as the officers working at the port office receiving payment for the passage were more than willing to talk about it. There were posters showing original photographs and lots of literature to explain all. Our fee paid we immediately set off in a WNW wind blowing a reasonable force 3 to 4, which allowed us to sail at 6.4 knots on just the genoa within seven miles of Aigina. Having motored into the harbour and moored stern to the quay I felt very glad to be away from the yacht harbour we had left that morning. What I didnt know at this time was how noisy the night was going to be. All through the night and through the following day there was traffic, dogs, ferries, cruise ships and hydrofoils. Dud kept jumping up and down coordinating mooring yachts and complaining about the surge caused by the ferries. Whilst all this was going on I was trying to catch up with diary entries when we heard an AHHH, splash! We both jumped up to see that a rather large gentleman had stumbled and fallen off his boarding plank. His

three shipmates managed to get him back on board after some effort and lots of laughter. It transpired that he had had too much to drink and they thought this rather funny. Dud and I looked at each other with the unspoken words Utter plonkers. Did they not know the dangers, did they not realise he could have been seriously injured and for what? One drink too many! Dont mistake my pious words, Dud and I both enjoy a drink as many will vouch but we do try to stay sober enough to get back on board our own yacht. When we took our papers to the Port Police for the formalities we were told not to worry as we were leaving the following day! Our obligations to book in completed we walked along the quay front of tavernas and shops. It was a very busy town for the time of year with a great many cars and motorcycles causing the traffic noise pollution during the evening. My heart did give a leap for joy as I heard the jingle jangle of bells and the clip clop of hooves; a horse drawn hackney cab passed by. During the day we saw many of these which led me to the conclusion this was why the flower gardens were so pretty! The town had an extensive shopping area and being true to yachtie form we noticed two chandlers within easy reach of the quay. They had a very extensive fresh fish market and restaurants galore. We were told that during the weekends the Athenians came en masse to the harbour in their big motor cruisers and bedlam followed with many crossed anchors. We became glad we had arrived on a Monday. We tried to enjoy a peaceful evening meal in the cockpit as the evenings were now drawing out and night-times were getting warmer but alas the traffic noise was just too much. The ferry horns and surging swells didnt help to make the atmosphere relaxed and when these died down monster gnats came out and started biting so we were forced to retire below disappointed. A point of note be it of interest or not is that over the years of living aboard both Dudley and I have become somewhat immune to the gnats, they still bite and it still itches but neither of us seem to swell up in huge bumps like we did those first two years. A new marina had been built just outside the town at Aigina and we could have moored there in quieter surroundings but on a budget we couldnt afford to keep paying for marina fees. We accepted there was an option, which was a plus for the island, and we felt that it had some charm but it had been spoilt. The noise pollution was too much and the waters around the harbour were a pleasant pea green. We hadnt been enticed into the water for a swim off the seaweed-covered beach, nor did we want to stay another day.

At this point I was starting to long for the crystal blue waters of Milos beach on the island of Lefkada. We were awoken at 6.15am by the first horns of a manoeuvring ferry and then came the screaming schoolchildren and then the traffic crescendo became a roar. It was worse than anything we had experienced in Greece in all the years we had been visiting. It made me question, if this is where the Athenians come to get away from it all what on earth had they left behind? We left Aigina considering it a nice place to visit to experience the buzz but for us we preferred somewhere quieter. A variable 3 to 4 wind meant that we left with the wind behind us and we had a pleasant downwind sail straight to Poros. Again the wind died off towards the end of the journey and for the last six miles we had to motor. We were beginning to see a weather pattern. Usually after this midday lull the wind would pick up again until the sun set. We had been advised that if we planned to reach our days destination by approximately 2pm we would be safely out of the way of any Meltemi weather. It was still too early in the year for the Meltemi but we were sticking to this advice and so far we had experienced some wonderful sailing. My bad habit of getting rather stressed-out on approaches to these strange harbours surfaced again as we negotiated the shallow waters to the entrance to Poros. We became aware we were being chased into harbour by a hydrofoil so stood clear and let it pass. Once out of the way of the hydrofoil we had to dodge a car ferry that was crossing in front of our bow; it was starting to feel like this mooring process was turning into a nightmare. We finally arrived at the section of quay we wanted to moor at, which in itself had been stressful as the pilot book had indicated laid chains and possible sites of anchor fouling. Once clear of those we lined up to drop our anchor, Dud concentrated on helming us astern and I watched him awaiting the indication to drop anchor. Our focus so concentrated we almost jumped out of our skins when another hydrofoil appeared out of nowhere honking once to indicate he was passing us to starboard. Dud quickly aborted any attempt to moor until he had passed and waited to once again line up to moor. With an already quickened heart rate, breaths coming in short pants and my blood pressure feeling like it was about to go through the roof I was not best pleased when we tried to moor again and found ourselves impeded by a yacht at the quayside starting to pull up their anchor blocking our approach.

Just drifting waiting for this yacht to leave I realised we were getting closer and closer to the buoyed shallow waters opposite the quay. My stomach started to knot and I became tight chested, my mind began its process of panic and worry that we were going to run aground and the more Dud told me not to worry the more I did. The yacht cleared and I tried to breathe deeply, we were nearly there then I could relax. We lined up again to drop anchor only to be charged at by a fishing boat hacking along the fairway. When we finally had clear water and managed to drop the anchor we found ourselves short of the quay by two metres of chain! The result of this was we had to pull up anchor and relay. Happily this time there were no additional distractions and we laid the anchor without mishap and were finally safely moored quayside. What a palaver that had been, it was the worst place then and remains the worst place now that we have ever tried to moor in. The only way I could describe how it felt to a non-yachting person would be to draw the comparison of a learner driver being asked to drive through Piccadilly Circus in London! That evening we took Harry out to explore. He was starting to thoroughly enjoy his evenings ashore as each day he was finding himself somewhere new. I was also coming to enjoy the experience of visiting new places and hoped that I would gain more confidence with regard to the navigation and responsibilities I undertook on board, Dud was taking it all in his stride but at times his calmness just made me feel worse. At first sight Poros reminded me of a larger version of a pretty village named Gaos on the island of Paxos. I had taken a serious fall there two years before and it had become a slightly cursed place for us but it was oh so beautiful with very friendly locals. Along Poros quayside we found lovely flower beds and squares and organised parking for motorcycles, instead of the usual system of stopping the engine and leaving it abandoned just anywhere. The mountainous backdrop was covered in village houses all topped by a church; it was very pleasing to the eye yet it was not the paradise it seemed. We presumed it was the closeness to Athens that again made this place so noisy. It was filled with traffic, ferries, hydrofoils and trippers zooming backwards and forwards through the small fairway around the islands harbour. However, I do have one fond memory of this place albeit a strange one: their wheelie bins. Having spent two days walking around the quayside with Harry I never

once realised that the whole quayside was lined with wheelie bins. The reason I hadnt noticed them was because they were encased in a surround that had a gate to get the bin in and out and topping the surround were flowerbeds. The centre was free to allow the lid to be opened to insert waste but to walk past along the quay front all you saw were flowers. I take my hat off to who ever thought of that idea and to the gardener that produced the most beautiful displays. Although storms had been forecast for the following day we decided to leave but not until we had managed to free our anchor. When mooring we had laid our chain slightly offset to port; the yacht to our starboard side had somehow managed to cross our chain! Dud rose to the challenge and I was very pleased when he managed to free our anchor without having to enter the unhealthy looking green water. I was especially relieved because I did not want him swimming in an area with so much traffic zooming up and down. No sooner had we left Poros the skies decided to empty. As I was at the helm when it decided to rain I remained there long enough for Dud to don his wet weather gear. Standing looking out over the water it struck me how strange it was the way the sea had changed colour; no longer pea green or clear blue but an ominous aqua that reminded me of snow clouds. The light had taken on a strange hue that reflected in the water and although there was sufficient wind to sail there were no waves, these were being flattened with the sheer weight of the rain falling onto it. Once kitted out for the conditions Dud relieved me at the helm and I went below to dry off and change into my protective clothing. As I went back out on deck the rain lessened but the conditions did not, we were treated to thunder and lightning which was worse than the rain as with this came the wind. We reefed both sails and managed to sail quite comfortably under the circumstances until the sea state began to build. With 23 knots of wind we were almost racing along and we made the decision to further reef the sails and not to overstress the rigging. The storm passed over and we continued on our way in a three metre sea until we could see yet another storm approaching. We didnt know at the time but this was what we would face for the next seven hours. Approximately five storms passed overhead, each one giving us a good soaking prior to hitting us with severely gusting winds. In between each storm we would let the foresail out to keep speed and then reef again as the storms passed. The extra exercise was all there was to keep us warm apart from Harry. Whichever one of us wasnt at the helm sat on the top step of the companionway holding Harry trying to keep him warm, dry and safe. He never was a dog to be scared of storms but when the thunderclaps were right

above us he would bark at the sky with a terrifying anger. We arrived at Sounio that evening very tired, cold and damp to the core. Orpheus did not have a sprayhood so we had been very open to the weather. Through the past winter I had sewn some blue canvas spray dodgers that we had fitted to the side rails prior to leaving Levkas. We were happy to see that they had saved us somewhat from the sea spray that had developed along with the swell. The happiness faded when we went below to see if our belongings had remained stowed. We had been living and sailing aboard Orpheus for nearly two years and we had made her very comfortable to live in. The deep bucket shelves had served us well but now they were being tested to the limit with the sea states we were experiencing in the Aegean. She is a very strong and comfortable yacht and she had stood up well to her initiation into the Aegean weather, nothing had fallen from the shelves in fact you would never know we had been at sea. All smugness disappeared as I went forward to our bunk in the forepeak to check the situation there, I found it drenched with seawater. I immediately checked to see if we had left the hatch open but it was firmly shut, quite clearly there was a problem somewhere. We had shipped a lot of water over the bow and decks during our journey, obviously there was a weakness on the upper deck and we would have to find it quickly. Things were not going to get any better that evening as we sat at anchor in the bay at Sounio being overlooked by the Temple of Poseidon. Harry was glaring at us to go ashore but the conditions were too rough. This in itself would not have been too bad if it wasnt for the gastric problem he had developed. Every time we had sailed in a rough sea it appeared to upset his stomach resulting in diarrhoea. I had attributed this to his nervous fright of the conditions and who could blame him. We had only just begun our adventures and I was beginning to feel like Id had enough of the big seas. As if this wasnt enough for us all to be coping with, we had to face more torment. Our anchor was well laid and was holding fast in the worsening wind conditions. A yacht came into the bay at dusk and began trying to lay an anchor. After the fourth attempt they decided to lay right in front of us. I asked Dud to politely tell them they had laid to close and they were over our anchor to which they replied, Do you think so, we dont. I called up to Dud from below Ask them if they have insurance because they may need it. Five minutes later they decided they would move. Round and round the bay they went, which is a rather sizeable stretch of

water that only had a few yachts at anchor in it. They were spoilt for choice for anchorage space but still they seemed incapable of finding a suitable spot so they came back in front of us! Again they laid their anchor directly in front of us putting Orpheus at risk. This time I decided I would tackle them, I can be a little more blunt than Dudley and I told them straight, You are too close, you have laid dangerously near our anchor. We have 50 metres of chain out and if the wind changes we are likely to hit you. No reply, not even a shrug, I gave up and went below to make up our beds for the evening. The last thing we needed was a sleepless night after what we had just been through so we slept on the saloon bunk which was a little cramped for two let alone three where else would Harry sleep! With every gust through the night I awoke waiting to hear our anchor drag, waiting to hear the yachts anchor in front drag. Dud got up and down with every bad noise checking all was ok. In the morning we awoke very tired and bleary eyed. Harry looked longingly ashore but as the wind was still very bad he was going to have to go on the side deck. He simply would not let go, he stood sniffing at the air looking at the land that was so close and yet so far and held on with dogged determination. The days forecast showed that the NNE 5/6 wind should soon turn to the south and increase in strength to become a 6/7; we made the decision to leave Sounio as it was very open to the south and I felt it could actually become untenable. We agreed we would go further into the Inland Sea to Porto Rafti. The Inland Sea is a stretch of water that lays between mainland Greece and the big island of Evvia. We didnt know what to expect but we hoped the sea state would be less than we had experienced thus far. We emptied our forepeak bunk and laid paper everywhere in an attempt to locate where the water had seeped in as Dud had tried to find a leak but nothing was obvious. We readied ourselves and made to pull up the anchor. With Dud at the helm and myself on the bow I began pulling up the chain with the electric windlass. It was becoming increasingly clear to me that the yacht that had anchored in front of us had definitely moored too close. As we came ever nearer the yacht the occupants appeared and began grabbing fenders ready to prevent the inevitable collision as we lifted our anchor. Just as we were coming dangerously close I could see that our anchor had lifted from the bottom and was coming straight up, there was half a metre to spare between us and the other yacht. I indicated to Dud we were clear to turn away and took great delight in standing on our bow looking into their shocked and worried faces saying Next time someone tries to tell you that you are too close maybe you should listen!

We set off northerly into the Inland Sea and discovered that our hopes for a lessened sea state were not to be. There was a three metre swell and 21 knots of wind on the bow. We tried to sail but what we made on the starboard tack we more than lost on the port tack. We were suffering a hard days sail to simply stay still in the water, at times it seemed we were even moving backwards because the swell was shoving at us so hard. The engine was put on and we crabbed our way up into Porto Rafti only to find it full of empty motorboats. Tired and hungry we were forced to anchor in the bay at Markopoulos, which meant poor Harry was again not going to get ashore. We discovered that the forepeak had once again been doused with seawater and still we couldnt make out where the water was coming in. One of us was going to have to stay in the bunk whilst sailing to be able to locate the leak; this was a good theory but with the sea state the way it was it would not be an easy task to carry out. Our tired state and darkened mood became slightly lightened when finally the inevitable happened and Harry managed to relieve himself on board. With his relief came mine as I worried so much about the cruelty of the situation when we were at sea like this. We decided theres nothing like a good chilli and a pint of beer to cast our troubles away and finally, from sheer exhaustion, we slept. At breakfast in the rising sun we took the opportunity to enjoy the surroundings. Markopoulos was a very large bay surrounded by houses and hotels. Every sheltered corner seemed to have buildings spewing out of it. Fishing boats and smaller motorboats had laid moorings scattered around the shallowest waters, which slightly hindered the availability of space to a visiting yachtie. Being mindful of my need to be as far north and east of the Aegean as we could before the end of June we pushed ever onwards. The end of May approached and the weather indicated a NW 4, ideal to take us to Alverion I thought; I should have known better but inexperience allowed for innocence. We left Porto Rafti and immediately tried to sail our way up to Alverion but again the wind was directly on the nose and the swell considerable. Not only was the wind NOT north-west but it also wasnt a force four, we were experiencing a force five from the north-east! As we heaved and lunged our way up the Inland Sea I took myself below to try to locate the leak in the forepeak bunk. Every wave that smashed over the bow sounded like it was going to split a huge hole in the hull. It sounded

terrible from inside the boat and with each smash I convinced myself we were never going to get across the Aegean in one piece. As I stood feet wedged in the doorway of our bunk, hands gripping at the frame riding up and down like a rodeo clown I could clearly see where the problem lay. As each wave crashed over the bow, even though the hatch was shut, water cascaded underneath and like a waterfall fell gracefully to our bunk! Obviously the catch wasnt tight enough to stop water being pushed under the frame with the force of each wave. Half way through the day whilst Dud helmed, I found myself drifting off into a sea of self-pity. I sat in the cockpit holding onto Harry thinking of the cruelty we were putting him through. We had dragged him from his comfortable house and garden, which he had known for 10 years, and forced him to live in a confined space, with no trips ashore in terrible seas the whole situation had to surely be wrong. I then began to feel sorry not only for him but also for myself. I hadnt had a shower in four days because the weather conditions had been so bad and cold. Not having a calorifier we had no hot water and the sun hadnt been out at all to heat our solar shower bags. I was totally miserable, depressed and fed up with sailing completely - and we had only just begun. This was not the way I had envisioned our adventures to be. I could have sat and cried but the irony of more salt water on board soon stopped me!! As we approached Alverion we saw a big tugboat alongside the quay and thought to ourselves oh no not another night at anchor, but luckily there was one space left for us to squeeze into. The quay was quite high for our yacht but we didnt care, we were grateful simply for the chance to stop and take Harry ashore. It gave us the opportunity to fill up with water, take a shower and do some washing. Even better, the following day was Sunday and we were able to stay here and have a day of rest. Having been at anchor and listened to the wind howl and creak around the anchor chain it felt so good to go to bed that evening safe in a harbour. After eleven hours of uninterrupted sleep I awoke as fresh as a daisy in the morning dew. Even though it was supposed to be my day of rest a womans work is never done. With the chance of water I began washing down the boat and washing out the salt-crusted bunk. Harry had a bath and a clean up and by lunchtime I was starting to feel better about the world. Alverion seemed as though it used to be quite a busy place and may have been at one time very popular but now it seemed almost unwanted, signs of a previous life remained untouched and decaying. One side of the harbour was busy with tavernas and the other a huge cement factory; this may put some yachties off coming here but I barely noticed it unless I wanted to know in which direction the wind was blowing and then I found the chimney very useful! At night the chimney could be described as almost pretty shining its

lights across the water of the bay but then some things easily please me. We were unable to purchase diesel here and there were only two shops immediately available to us. By far the best feature about this town was the absence of ferry traffic; there was no surge, no swell and no noise. Even the tugboats that changed round during the night never disturbed us. The brightly painted tavernas and fishing boats gave colour to the village, as did the beautiful church painted white with blue trim that had red tiled arches hung with golden lanterns. The local people were very friendly and helpful to us and both Dudley and I found this a charming place to be, but tomorrow was another day. Dud tried to tighten the hatch handle over our bunk but as he did so the lug that tightens down the hatch broke off. When he examined the handle he could clearly see the problem. It had been cracked for some time and had finally fatigued enough to no longer be effective. He swapped it with one of the rear cabin hatch handles and after giving it a good dose of water Dud proclaimed triumphantly The problem is cured! At last we could all go back to sleeping in comfort. We took ourselves to bed early in preparation for the following days travel. We were headed for Khalkis where we would navigate through a lifting bridge taking us out of the North end of the Inland Sea and into the north-west Aegean to the chain of islands known as the Sporades.