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.................?
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