Lastrygonians, part two

About the 5th August, the days all blend into one so forgive me...

Having extracted ourselves from the nightmare port of Frikas, we went south down the east coast of Ithaca towards Vathi, the capital port town of Ithaca and home town of Odysseus. The contrary winds had long blown themselves out and we were forced to motor most of the way. The natural harbour is surrounded by high mountains and so mostly protected from large waves but sadly not from high winds. We dropped anchor north of all the other yachts so as not to be run down by any of them should they drag their anchor during the night. Paranoid? No, just used to Italian anchoring techniques. The flotilla groups love this place as they have a long sea wall right near the tavernas that they reverse up to. We were happy to be well away from the noise and the smell of fresh chips making us feel hungry.

We took the dinghy ashore and did our usual sweaty walk of the seafront to check which bars have wifi (one of the downsides of being far out in the bay is that we can’t skank free internet.) The town was an attractive place but not so different from all the others, lined with restaurants and bars, tacky souvenir shops and fishermen’s houses that were converted into apartments. The money had been spent, that was plain to see. Much of the infrastructure had been restored, new pavements, street lights and a fancy plaza. They must have been given a blank cheque from Brussels and told to smarten the place up. As a transient yacht tourist, we see the same improvements in all the ports. What it was like ten years ago is hard to fathom but they seem to have preserved most of the charm. We made plans to come back and have dinner the next day at a real Greek food restaurant that we found. The dishes were fantastic and as we had not been out to eat since the expensive pizza in Stromboli, it was time we did.

The following morning we decided to get out of the bay and go and find a quiet anchorage so we could do some snorkelling. As most yachts discharge their shit straight into the sea (we have a holding tank) it’s better to swim in places they don’t congregate. Just outside the bay we dropped our anchor in 7m, just off a pinnacle island that was unspoilt and had crystal clear water all round it. Lovely.

Having had a swim and tried out the new underwater camera we motored the boat around the bay to find another quiet spot for lunch. Only two other boats were in the bay, one a huge Spanish motor yacht and a local doing some fishing. By the time we had got to the bottom of the bay the wind had started up again and it was not practical to try and anchor near the cliffs. We aborted lunch and went back to the original bay so we could anchor early and get a quiet spot. This time we went nearer the shore on the north side, only a very presentable ketch was near to us so we were safe. The wind strength got up to 20kn again and we were being jostled by the waves, not uncomfortable but annoying all the same. True to form, before long an Italian decided to drop his anchor right in front of us and finished up sat on top of our anchor, despite us having Wilson out to defend us from these cretins. I called them up on the radio and told them that we would be leaving and they would have to move forward so we could extract our anchor. Luckily an American voice assured us they would move. The next spot we chose to anchor was well out in the bay and in front of all the others as before. Only a big catamaran was further north. The wind was still blowing and it made it impossible for us to go ashore and have our much needed dinner as the dingy won't row very well in waves and has a tendency to fill with water and soak the occupants.



We stayed aboard and watched a film instead or at least we tried to. At 10.30 we were visited from the Port Police and told to move as we were too far up the bay and the delivery ship needed room to swing round when it arrives at midnight. It seemed a bit ridiculous as we were miles from the other side where we had seen the ship dock but it was pointless trying to argue. We put our gloves back on and raised the anchor for the fourth time that day. As the wind was still blowing like stink it was not good to be close to the shore but all the available space was full further inside the bay. The only spot was just off the fuel dock but still in front of the other yachts, in 5 metres. We grabbed it and got the hook well stuck in the mud, just to be safe. The big Cat also had to move and had to be told twice, he eventually left altogether as space was tight though he could easily have got in close to the noisy tavernas as he was only 18’’ deep? We went to bed, the remainder of the film would have to wait.

The delivery ship arrived again just after midnight and woke us from our restless sleep. Were we ever going to have a good night? No, it was not to be, we left with the masses the next morning, having decided that the Laistrygonians did not want us in Ithaca. It had not been good to us and we had wasted our days, time to finally leave the Ionians and make for the Gulf of Corinth to continue our journey east and south towards the canal and finally the Aegean sea.

Picture shows the mouth of the bay, west of Vathi. We have to turn right and right again to head off to our next anchorage near Nisis Oxia, 20m east, the entrance to the Gulf of Patras. For those who have an interest in sea battles, Oxia was the place that the Turks got a good pasting in the battle of Lepanto. It was the last sea battle that Galleys were used, rowed by slaves and put an end to Turkish control of the sea. Byron also hid here to evade the Turks, prior to their demise. The poet died in Messalonghi, just up the coast on 19th April 1824. History lesson over.

Laistrygonians, Cyclops, and wild Poseidon

Constantino Cavafis, who appears to be well read on Greek philosophy and the passages of ancient mariners, advises taking a lifetime to reach Ithaca so, having made all the great discoveries along the way, one cannot be fooled by what these Ithakas mean. To understand the full meaning of what he implies, one has to read and absorb the advice in the right context. Setting out on a voyage to unknown lands, seeking new pleasures and a fortune for life, Phoenician trading stations, Arab markets full of spices, precious goods and treasures from foreign lands, all sound like the stuff of a ‘Boy’s Own’ annual from the fifties. With nothing but the wind to take you, it can be (and often was) a disaster waiting to happen but still a great adventure!

Despite the luxury of computer generated weather mapping and barometers in our watches, we are still none the wiser as to what will be thrown at us as we make our slow and determined way through the dramatically un-molested Ionian Islands. Like the weather beaten sailors from time immemorial we have to take our chances and learn from the experience, if we are fortunate we will not be blown by an unexpected gale onto a lee shore to be smashed to pieces with all lives lost? Sinking the yacht around here would be most unwise also as the boats depth gauge is usually right off the scale. It is only now, using highly specialised undersea search equipment that the true scale of ‘total losses’ are becoming apparent. The sea bed is scattered with wrecks from pre-Christian times, lost in a 200+ metre void of blackness, in a timeless place, far below the modern world.

To explain the losses, mariners of old would talk of upsetting the ‘Gods of the Sea’ and great homage was paid to these powerful forces that could suck a ship from the surface of this great, heaving blue mass. To venture into the unknown was not for the faint-hearted but for many they didn’t have a choice. We have chosen, like the hundreds of other yachtsmen that are currently here, to make passage and enjoy anchoring in the crystal clear waters that grip Ithaca with a mother’s hand or on occasion, a wrestler’s armpit.

Our passage took us back past the Onassis island of Skorpios and down the western side of Meganissi, between the steep green slopes of Lefkas and the tranquil beaches of the island. We were only one of the many that had decided that this was the route for today and as soon as the wind filled in we were having our own little race to windward with them all. Ketches, Sloops, Schooners all pressing hard on the wind, full of sail, heading south.


It was refreshing to see so many sailing boats going to windward, all of them pointing higher than Christina and we were soon left in their wake. Within a couple of hours we had left the erratic winds falling off the slopes of Lefkas and were in a fresh breeze coming straight off the open sea. Now we would make up time! With 20 knots our little ship comes into her own, she points higher (sails closer to the apparent wind) and sits nice and stable in the now gradually building sea. We decided that Ithaca was easier to get to and we could make it on the next tack. I left it till we could go about with two other yachts heading in the same direction on starboard tack, could we then match them for speed and pointing ability? Six knots boat speed was fine to stick with the other yachts but as the wind went up to 23+kn I decided a reef would be good as we were being over powered. Problem number one, the roller furler decided to jam so we were stuck with full genoa and lots of wind, shit!

Gay did not mention at this stage that she had a bad feeling about Ithaca? With a lot of swearing and brute strength I managed to manually roll the sail up and we sailed the rest of the way with just the mizzen and main. It was fine as the wind was still building the nearer we got to the mythical isle and any more sail would have been to much. We were warned that strong gusts were to be expected, howling down off the mountains and racing across the sea looking for unsuspecting yachts. They were easy to spot and following our Corfu experience I was trying to avoid getting caught out twice. With sun getting lower in the sky we headed for a small anchorage in the lee of the mountain where we could see other yachts at anchor.

Following a small detour to avoid the unmarked rocks near a small island we dropped anchor in five metres. The problem was still the strong gusts making the bow blow sideways and yanking the anchor chain. Another larger wooden ketch was very lucky to be alerted by his neighbour when his anchor started to drag. He was very close to the rocks round the small island before he got his engine started and he made his escape! I don’t think he had enough chain out, a common mistake we have noticed but not normally with such dramatic results.

Having got fed-up with flailing about on our 40m of chain, I decided that we would have to go stern too against the shore like most of the other yachts had done, leaving our anchor our in the bay with about 80m of chain to our bow. A carefully planned military operation and an argument with one of our Italian neighbours who was trying to steal our slot and we were off! I took Wilson and the kedge rope in the dinghy and made it fast to the rocks. Leaving Wilson to bob about marking our eventual place, we had to reverse back, Gay working the anchor windlass, till we could pick up Wilson and tie off the rope. The kedge rope was not as long as I would have liked but rather than change it for our long line, we just kept going back and back, getting shallower and shallower till we could grab Wilson and fix ourselves to the shore. It all went to plan thankfully and we did not get blown into any other yachts or hit the bottom. I dug out the other long line as well and we made fast to another rock 100ft from the other so we had sectioned off our own little piece of beach behind us. We were now fixed in three places and only had to deal with the fear of others getting blown into our little spot. I dived under the boat to check the hazards and found none, we were at least one metre off the sea grass and all was good. See above pic, Italians all rafted together just waiting to drag?

We stayed for two nights, but we got little sleep either night. The wind was dropping off the mountain and bombing the anchorage with 30 knot blasts. They normally stop soon after the sun sets but not on this occasion. It was a pity as it was a great spot to chill out and not too busy. Frikes was round the corner so we decided to go there and stay on the wall where we might get some sleep? The place was jammed with charter boats rafted up six abreast along the wall. We managed to go stern too on the other side of the port, our anchor out in the middle of the harbour with 40m of chain. It was only mid day so we walked round to the centre of the village to find the internet and get an idea of the layout of the place. It was very quaint but so full of boats it spoilt the atmosphere. We were gone about 90 min and during this time a little yacht that came in after us and was moored alongside, decided to leave. In the process he lifted our anchor we were then free to come back and smash into the wall, which we did. I noticed the boat at a strange angle so hurried back to find that we had lost some more gelcote from the boarding platform as it had hit the wall but luckily the English chap next to us had managed to get a fender between us and the wall to prevent further mashing of our transom. We had to go back out and lay our anchor again as it could not get a decent bite when I tried to pull it in. Even after re-laying the anchor, we still had a weak fix to the sea bed but a kind Danish man in a motor boat offered to run a line to his boat to stop our bow being blown sideways by the ever-present gusts. That very night a large vessel out in the open sea sent into the bay a long swell that picked up our boat and all the others next to us and set up a huge rocking motion. I leapt out of bed as fast as a lover with the husband on the stairs but was too late to stop us being thrown back against the wall again, this time with so much force I though the back of the boat was going to be smashed off. It was a wonder our mast did not smash into the mast of the boat next to us, the rocking was so bad. Now I was not best pleased! It was my fault as I should have pulled us further off the wall before we went to bed but I never imagined such a thing would happen and so quickly. Another lesson learned. Now we had a badly mashed scoop and bent boarding ladders.

We decided it was time to go to Vathi so we could be back on anchor and safer.................?