Go West Young Man

After saying a fond goodbye to our first charter group, we set our sails west to explore more of this enchanted island. We anchor out in a quiet bay with steep cliffs on both sides and sandy beaches on our way to Rethymno. At Rethymno, there is a very small Venetian harbor that has been expanded to hold both ferries, freight and cruising yachts. We tie up alongside the quay, wander around the Venetian fortress and narrow streets of this once prosperous Venetian port town. It has a very charming old town district surrounded by the hustle of a modern city that didn’t pay much attention to architecture.

The next morning we rented a car to explore the far western province of Hanai, also spelled Chani, also spent Hkanai. Like most of Greece, standard spelling of islands and cities seem to be a ways away. The car allowed us to have more time to explore this part of the island. We simply did not have enough time to sail to all of the places we wanted to see. The first day we drove to the northwestern tip of Crete to visit the famous pink beach lagoon of Falasarna. The pink sand comes from a rare coral reef right off the coast. It is a wide and shallow bay with long expanses of sand. The turquoise water looks more like it is from the Caribbean than the cobalt waters of Greece.

From there we thread our way along mountain roads and deep gorges to the southwestern part of Crete. We drive through charming villages with only a few tavernas overlooking the natural beauty of the mountain valleys and stunning coastline mark the beginning and ending of a town. We stop at one taverna and order a traditional Dakos. It is made from hearty bread that has been toasted crunchy and covered with shredded tomatoes with mizithra cheese sprinkled on top.
We then head further south to the famous Elafonsis Islet with its white sand and knee deep blue turquoise water that creates a tropical paradise. This time of year, the beaches are still peaceful.

The evening takes us back to the city of Hanai. Of all of the cities that we have visited on Crete, Hanai is by far the most Italian in look and feel. The port area has crumbling Venetian buildings still in use that have aged well and testify of its prosperity during that time. As I walk through the web of narrow streets, I actually catch myself saying good evening in Italian a couple of times. We stayed the night in a hotel that was built during the Venetian occupation. It could not have been more charming.

At the crack of dawn my alarm goes off and we stumble to the bus station to catch a local bus to the not to be missed Samari Gorge. This 16km walk through steep and rocky terrain is not for the lighthearted. It takes about 5 hours and your feet get a pounding walking on rough rock, riverbeds and steep switchbacks before finally ending at the open sea. Since it is mostly downhill the entire way, the hike is not taxing, but it does take a lot of tenacity. Believe me, the site of the ocean was a welcomed site in the late afternoon.

Whole Lot of Shaken Going On. And That Wave Didn’t Help Matters.

Our next stop is Iraklio. It is the capital of Crete and a bit of a noisy overgrown city. We docked the boat in the shadows of an ancient Venetian castle like boats have done for centuries. Just outside of the city are the famous Minoan ruins of Knosos. The ancient palace built with limestone and alabaster over 5000 years ago is still amazing in its structure and beauty. It is hard to believe that BC 3000 a people could live in such prosperity, comfort and intellectual harmony. The palace has no fortifications because there were no wars back then. Women were treated with respect and equality. Everyone worked together in harmony to make everyone’s lives prosper. This five-story palace had running water, flushing toilets big stone baths and stunning art. Its size is more of a small city.

Everything was going just great until Santorini blew its stack causing one of the biggest volcanic explosions in modern times and sending a tsunami tidal wave that some estimate at over 100 feet tall to wipe this incredible civilization off the face of the earth. The people disappeared, but their ideals were picked up by the ancient Greeks to give the world democracy.

It’s the Pits

After the storm broke we continue south to our first stop in Crete. This small resort town of Vai is unique because palm trees cover the area. The legend goes that the Roman soldiers returning from Egypt stopped over in the tranquil bay and ate dates. The pits left behind sprouted into the date grove that is there today. Oddly enough, the trees do date back to around that time. While the legend certainly adds charm to this beautiful bay, it is the natural beauty of the area that makes it so appealing. We anchored out in the bay and took the dingy into shore for a nice lunch at the restaurant on the hill. And if this was not already a piece of paradise, we found a beautiful pond teaming with pollywogs and small frogs. Thinking it would be the perfect place for Runaway, we asked around to make sure the pond didn’t dry up during the summer. We were told it was fed by a natural spring that kept it wet throughout the dry season. So we went back to the boat to get our little turtle stowaway to set him free. The little children on the beach saw what we had and soon it was like the Pied Piper leading a line of children and curious parents down to the ponds edge with the waiters from the restaurant chanting “Free Willy”. After a brief speech some photos, well wishes and the rest of a can of sardines, we let Runaway go. He knew just what to do. After a look and maybe wink to us, he dove into the water and buried himself in the algae. It was sad to see him leave us, but in our hearts, we knew it was what he really wanted. Free and safe at last. May he have a happy and prosperous life.

Fruit of the Spoon on Karpathos

Sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them. We were heading south from Rhodes and planned to do an overnight stop on the narrow island of Karpathos, which is about half way to Crete. But Mother Nature had other plans. A big storm was coming in. The weather sites predicted 30-knot winds and waves over 9 feet. The storm made it a good day to stay in port. Even the fishermen in the village pulled their small fishing boats out of the water to a safer place on land for this storm. That is a pretty good sign that something big is going to happen.

The first night we were in the main harbor of Panaghia. But it was not a very protected harbor and the waves were pounding at our boat all night. So we asked around and managed to move to a much smaller harbor built for the local fishermen that was better protected. We navigated through a nest of buoys and squeezed in between the colorful boats. It looked like we were the mother ship amongst the smaller boats. But it made all the difference in the world. Much better protected.

What was going to be a one nights stay stretched into a 4-night stay. And it couldn’t have been more delightful. This somewhat sleepy little fishing village had some of the friendliest people we have ever spent time with. They don’t get many Americans so we were the town celebrities. By the time we left, we couldn’t walk through town without a dozen people wishing us a “kaliméra” nice day.

One evening we went to a local taverna for a traditional Greek meal. The food was amazingly good and the waitress became more than our order taker. We were the only ones in the restaurant so she ended up sitting down and asking a hundred questions about our lives. After the meal, she gave us all a dessert called “fruit of the spoon”. It was candied figs and pickles on top of a dish of traditional Greek yogurt. I have to say, even with the candied pickle, it was quite delightful.

The next day we rented a car and drove around to some of the most beautiful beaches in the Mediterranean. With the inclement weather, we just looked, but it would be a beautiful place with warmer days. Along the roadside, we spotted a very old church. We stopped and were rewarded with incredible Byzantine icons painted on the walls. The church was built in front of a cave that went further back into the mountain. We explored deep inside the mountain using that wonderful technology, cell phones, to light the way.

The center of the island is quite rugged with steep mountain roads and remote villages. The northern half of the island is still pretty inaccessible and we are told the people still wear the traditional Greek clothing. It sounded fascinating, but the trip takes a sturdy Jeep to make it through the rough pot holed dirt road.

Lindos Lower Now

The next day we head to the small town of Lindos, a couple of hours sail down the east coast of the island. Lindos has a huge fortress on the top of the hill and a charming whitewashed town cascading down the side of the mountain. We anchored out in quiet St. Paul’s bay where Paul the apostle landed here in about AD 58. In the evening, we took the dingy to shore for a fine Greek meal at a taverna that was recommended to us. The food was amazing.

A couple of days later, we were going through our photographs and noticed something in the water in one of the shots. I think it is a dolphin. What do you think it is??? Just a chance shot. We didn’t see anything when taking the photo.

On the Rhodes Again

After spending way to much time getting ready, we punched, stamped and signed out of Turkey and headed to Rhodes, Greece. The winds were perfect for the first poking of our nose out of the marina and we managed to get up to over 12 knots on our way to this medieval island city. I have been to Rhodes several times before and always love visiting.

We planned a few days to take care of the paperwork to enter Greece and do a little stocking up of fresh local fruits and veggies. And of course, we have to visit our favorite Gyro hangout. What can I say, I love Greek Gyros. Gyros are shaved meat usually chicken, pork or lamb that have been stacked on a long skewer and cooked by roasting against vertical burners. The cooked meet is then shaved in thin slices and wrapped in pita bread with hot French fries, tomatoes, a cucumber sauce that can only be described as the secret ingredient. Hummm so good. I miss them.

Our first charter guests of the summer arrive and spend a day wandering around the city crusading knights once ruled and defended. It is a beautiful city where it is easy to transport yourself back centuries ago when stone walls and valiant knights kept the population safe from danger. Not a lot has changed. Somehow I think even back then storekeepers were hawking their latest wares to newly arrived visitors. Though most of it was probably not made in China.

Run, Run, Runaway

We were headed to the bus stop to catch the dolmish into town to do a major stock up of supplies. Food in Turkey is much cheaper than in Greece. So we planned to buy all we could that will store well for the summer. On our way to the bus stop, Steve just happens to glance down and sees, walking on the pavement, right in front of the restaurant in the marina, a red ear slider turtle. The turtle seemed to be in a hurry to go nowhere fast. We were worried that someone would step on him and we didn’t have time to figure out what to do with him, so Steve put him in a little three-tiered fountain just outside the restaurant. That night when we got back from our shopping, we went back to the fountain and there our little rescue turtle was, still swimming around. We asked around the marina to try and figure out where he came from but no one had any idea. There really aren’t any fresh water ponds near the marina. We decided to rescue our little friend and bring him on the boat until we could find a safe place to let him go. So we have a little stowaway on the boat. We named him Runaway since he seemed to be running from something. I tried feeding it cilantro, but he just didn’t seem interested. It wasn’t until we found a can of sardines that someone left on the boat that Runaway get excited. He would eat right off the fork and hold on so tight we could lift him out of the water. He seems to like his new home.

Turkish Delight

The minute you step off the plane, you know you are somewhere special. The energy on the streets of Turkey is amazing. Everyone is engaged, doing something to earn a living. This is the country of entrepreneurs. Businesses spill into the street. Everyone has something to tear the lira out of your wallet. The smells of spices and cooked food waffle in the air. Mosques are liberally scattered throughout the neighborhoods. And we hear the first call to prayer that permeates throughout the street at 6:30 in the morning, sometimes overlapping and competing with another nearby mosque. It is a kind of singsong whining cry that brings the faithful to the domed places of worship. Each of them have a minuet reaching to the sky much like steeples on Christian churches reminding worshipers of where their prayers are directed. You can feel the energy of Turkish life.


We flew into the very Turkish town of Izmir. It isn’t a tourist town. There are no postcard racks or silk-screened tee shirts with Bob Marley pictures on the stores. It is a big city that sprawls over a rolling terrain.

After dropping our bags at a local hotel, we wander the streets absorbing the sights and sounds. We decide to head to a nearby harman for a traditional Turkish bath which have been used for centuries as places of relaxation and social gathering spots. Most of the harmans have seen better days. They are a bit ragged, but with enough architectural structure there that you can see the grandeur of a former time. Most of them are built around a star-domed central room that has a large marble stone slab in the center. The slab is heated from underneath radiating warmth through it that when you lie on it, your bones feel its healing therapy. Surrounding the marble slab are small rooms with marble basins. Warm water flows continuously to these basins and you sit beside them scooping up the warm water with metal bowls, poring the soothing water over your head and letting it cascade over your body. The corner rooms provided the most privacy. Guys would take off their towels that are more like cotton plaid table cloths given to wrap around their bodies to drape over the entryway. Straight guys and gay guys seemed to blend together for a little sex in the corner. I mean what straight Turk doesn’t mind his dick being sucked by a talented gay man willing to take it. While the sex is not out in the open, it is often understood by all those present what is going on.

We decide to have a traditional scrub. This is done by lying on the warm marble slab in the center of the room. A burly Turk comes in and after first rinsing your body with bowls of warm water, proceeds to scrub you down with what feels like a green Brillo scrub pad. This is not a gentle process. Your skin feels raw as his powerful hands push down on the skin revealing fresh layers beneath the old skin. After the scrubbing, more rinsing takes place and then a sponge that is about a foot square and 6” thick is rubbed all over. It feels more like a car wash than a bath. Then his powerful hands start kneading your muscles to the bone like no other back rub you have had. This is not a back rub for sissies. This is serious business. He uses his considerable weight and strength to dig deep into the muscle tissue. The manhandling does not last long fortunately and just when you are about to cry uncle and give up, more rinsing is done. As tortuous as the process is, you feel amazingly refreshed and tingly all over. It is like all that new skin that has been exposed is ready to take its place on the outer layer of your body. It is a perfect treatment for the long hours on the plane from the trip over here.

The Salt of Salzburg

We took the 2-hour train ride to a place where the hills are actually alive with the sound of music. Yes, this is where the Sound of Music was filmed. The famous Von Trapp family lived not far from the center of town. As you stroll around you can still pick out many of the backdrops for scenes immortally captured on film. For some strange reason I couldn’t get “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria” out of my head all day.

Salzburg is a city that is more the size of a large hamlet than a town. It is nestled where the Alps thrust up along with church spires from the verdant landscape at the border between Germany and Austria. Towering over this town is a huge white castle that is white as salt. Its importance is in the strategic controlling of salt during the Middle Ages. And this fortress is where the name of the town comes from Saltz (salt) Burg (fortress). It was built by the Catholic Church around 1077 as a fortress to protect both the town people and the precious salt that is mined near by. If you had salt in those days you had something that could preserve food. Salt was valuable enough to require a fortress that was so fortified that this fortress was never breached. Many tried but none were successful. For decades this secure fortress was added on to and expanded until it not only covered the mountaintop, it also draped down the extremely steep cliffs. With walls over 100 feet high, the fortress would last for centuries until it was voluntarily handed to Napoleon in the 1800’s.

In the evening we head back to Munich hitching a ride from Roberts boyfriend, Roland who teaches music in Salzburg during the week, and spends his weekends with Robert in Munich. We stop on the way home at a huge lake resort. The weather is brisk with occasional rain showers. But that doesn’t dissuade us from walking along the lakeshore. As twilight sets in, we head for a restaurant on the waters edge for some traditional German dishes before heading back to Munich. The weather went from rain showers to rain, so we spent the next day visiting museums and trying to stay dry. I was excited to see a special exhibit of Vermeer paintings. But as it turns out there was only one Vermeer painting. The rest of exhibit were various painting collected in the 1800’s by Bavarian kings. Still a nice exhibit despite the let down of seeing just one Vermeer.

The Magic of Munich

Usually when we fly back and forth from Europe we go through London. This time we decided to visit our friend Robert in Munich. It was the first time I stayed in Munich longer than a connection flight at the airport. This Bavarian gem dazzles you with copper domed churches, grand stone architecture and city halls that have cuckoo clocks that are 4 stories high. Every 15 minutes the doors open and German florlines are chased by young dashing German mechanical boys. Motion on the street stops as people gaze at the huge display that would fit right in at Disneyland’s Small World ride. It is all ceremonial and wonderful.

Robert has three bikes so we spent the first day peddling around the city, visiting vast parks that were once international flower festivals and rivers where even in late March sun worshipers were prepping their tans for summer. Across the bridge and further up the river we stopped to see a bunch of surfers surfing the narrow river. Yeah you read that right. They surf in Munich. There is a section of the river that steadily flows under the bridge and as it comes out it crests into a constant wave. City signs forbid swimming because of the current. But surfing has become an acclaimed event that regularly happens and the cautions are ignored. We continued on to even bigger city parks, in fact the biggest park found in any city in the world is in Munich. There are open squares where kings once lived and circled plazas where people hang out in the afternoon sun. The architecture is beautiful old world built at a time when buildings were built of stone to last the centuries, not the decades. It is a very livable city that anyone would find charming and enchanting.

Winter in San Francisco

After getting the boat repairs started and winterizing everything we left Turkey and headed back to San Francisco for the winter. We arrived right before Thanksgiving. It is nice to be home but the weather has already turned cool. We already miss the lingering warmth of Southern Turkey. We spent the holidays with family and friends and filled our time with winter projects and renewing friendships. Time seemed to fly by and on March 23rd we found ourselves once again, crammed aboard British Airways, heading back to the Mediterranean.

Things That Go Bump in the Day

We have a favorite port just as you round the tip about half way down the coast of Turkey. It is the old Roman harbor of Kindos. We have stayed there several times before. The afternoon winds were so strong, we once again took shelter. While we were hunkering down against the strong winds, other sailboats eased in as well. One sailboat was not so lucky. With the strong winds, their anchor did not hold and they found themselves shoved up against the rocks, pinned down by the gusty winds. We jumped in our dingy to help them out. Another dingy from one of the other sailboats joined us. The husband was standing on one of the rocks desperately trying to push the boat away from the damaging rocks. I could tell that his wife was pretty clueless about what to do. We tied our two dinghies to the boat and tried to pull it off the rocks. But the wind was no match for the two small outboard motors. It was going to take something bigger. I jumped aboard to help the bewildered woman. One of the other sailboats came over and I tied a long line to the boat and told the woman to feed the line through the bracket designed to hold the rope while I went up front to use the anchor to pull the bow of the boat away. I guess the woman did not understand the significants of how important it was for the line to stay in the bracket, because when the sailboat started pulling on the line that by now had slipped out of the bracket, it pulled off ever single stanyon on that side of the boat. We did manage to get the boat off the rocks and in a safe place for the night.

The next morning we motored out of the harbor under much more favorable winds. When we were a safe distance from the harbor and shore we raised our mainsail. Just as we were turning into the wind, the boat came to a jarring stop. We hit a rock in what was suppose to be 60 feet of water. Yikes. One of the hulls was cracked all the way through and a small amount of water was coming into the bulge. The automatic pump kicked in and managed to keep the water pumped out of the boat. But with that damage, we were forced to head to Marmaris Turkey, which was about 7 hours away, and have the boat hauled out for repairs. Fortunately this is one of the best-equipped marinas in the Mediterranean. Over the next couple of weeks we got estimates, talked to the insurance company and arranged for repair work to be done. Our navigation system electronically tracks exactly where the boat goes. When the insurance appraiser came on to the boat, we showed him the navigation records along with the pilot book that normally has those kinds of obstacles carefully plotted. Evidently we were privileged to be the first ones to discover a previously uncharted rock just below the waterline. Great huh. I wonder if they will let us name the rock?

Looking for Warmer Weather

After coming back from Burning Man, the weather in the Ionians cooled dramatically. We originally planned to sail north to Croatia. With the cooling weather, we decided instead to head south to Southern Turkey. We figured that we could sail for a couple of months more in that area where summer lingers longer into fall. So off to Turkey we head, through the Corinthian Channel and back to the Aegean Sea.

Burning Man, a Parallel Universe

A lot has been written about Burning Man. And a lot of photographs have been taken of this event. But to capture what Burning Man is all about, you simply have to attend, and probably more than once.

This extraordinary event takes place in the Nevada desert, on a dry lake bed literally in the middle of nowhere. It seems to morph from beneath the dusty playa one week a year to become the third largest city in Nevada. Roads appear, city blocks are defined, street lamps lit, DMV, bars and discos emerge, health spas, training centers, art instillations and virtually every element of a city spring to life. But it is more a city of the future or maybe a city only imagined. It is more something out of Alice in Wonderland than a city with any normal bearings.

I knew I was in the land of the mad hatter when my first trip into the city after setting up camp, I was following a moving gazebo full of people having a grand time as it motored down the street past a man playing a tuba that was on fire. Yeah this gazebo was not in someone’s back yard where it should be, but rather someone’s imagined mode of transportation. In fact there are absolutely no vehicles that resemble a car or motorbike. During the week I saw full scale pirate ships, metal oversized ducks, a butterfly with a wing span of 20 feet wafting down the street, entire homes complete with trailing outhouse, a peacock that would raise or lower its colorful plumed tail at will and much more. There was even a 1920’s dinner serving grilled cheese sandwiches, coffee and cheesecake. Literally hundreds of these fanciful vehicles constantly flowed down the street. It is not unusual to see a flamingo whose neck rose 50 feet into the air. There were, of course, such mundane concepts as riding a fish down the street, dragons, gigantic grasshoppers and anything else you can possibly imagine. These “art cars” are all for public use. If they are headed where you are headed, then jump aboard. And at night they are all lit up with neon like lighting and flashing colored bulbs that would make Las Vegas envious.

Art seems to emerge from the dust itself. I am not talking about a few small experimental pieces; I am talking about pieces that would be a prized possession of any city that could display them. There are playful, interactive pieces that spew fire but never burn. There are pieces that defy gravity in grace and beauty. Cast bronze pieces you can climb in, around and through that tower over the city. Perhaps the centerpiece of the art pieces was a beautiful lady in an articulated dancing pose with only the tip of her foot balancing on the desert playa. No small piece, this graceful lady towered over 4 stories tall, and glowed with light from within itself. It seemed to defy gravity with no guide wires or other visible means of support to hold it up in the harsh desert winds that can easily exceed 50 mps in an afternoon. The engineering of the piece itself was a work of art.

While this city has something for everyone, what it doesn’t have is money. Once you step foot inside the city gates, you pack your wallet away. Everything is gifted by others. Whether it is waffles, crepes and pancakes in the morning or root beer floats, snow cones, ice cream in the afternoon, it is all given freely to anyone who shows up.

Classes and seminars are offered from dawn yoga to way into the dawn of the next day disco parties. Some of the biggest dance venues with video and sound systems that rival any rock star concert pulsate with deep base and energetic crowds. As the setting sun pushes its last beams of light through the cotton clouds, the city lights up from one end to the other. I climbed one of the tall towers and saw this metropolis spread out before me. It is a vast panorama that stretches for miles. No wonder it is impossible to see even a fraction of what this city has to offer in a short week.

To be sure, it is a harsh environment out on this dry lakebed. Winds can come up at any time and whip the fine sand into frenzy so strong that you can’t see 3 feet in front of you. These whiteout storms can last for minutes or days. Fortunately this week was relatively calm with only a scattering of dust storms and twisters. But the harsh storms are all softened by the generosity and warmth of the human spirit that is often not found in the shadows of modern life outside the city gates. Humanity is embraced in abundance. As I rode my bike down the street, complete strangers would offer me some bacon and eggs for breakfast or mist me with a cooling spray of water in the hot afternoon sun, offered food, music, companionship, jewelry often referred on the playa as swag and a place to hang out during a storm.

There is one more element about this event that I have to explain. What ever you need for the week you bring it in yourself. Since nothing is for sell in this city, if you forget something, you have to rely on someone else gifting it to you. That can be problematic for things like a forgotten toothbrush. (No, I remembered mine.) The call it radical self-reliance. And just as important, everything you pack in, you have to pack out. Yes everything. There are no garbage cans at Burning Man. No littered wasteland after this event. Every scrap of paper, every stray thread, every torn tissue, everything is taken back. They call it MOOT, matter out of place. Camps are scoured for the finest microtrash. Even tire marks from sitting cars are carefully erased. When this city disappears at the end of the week, any signs of it also disappear. The only thing left on the playa is fine dry sand and the heat of the desert.

With this feeble description of Burning Man comes a disclaimer. If you think I have given you a sense of what is out there on the dry lakebed, I haven’t. Simply put, to understand Burning Man, you have to experience it yourself. It is something that “burners” have to come back year after year, to breath in the spirit of Burning Man.

Lovely Levkas

I have been to Levkas 3 times before. My favorite part of the island is the west coast. The beaches are some of the most spectacular in all of Europe. The terrain is steep and plunge just as deep into the blue sea. Many of the beaches are only accessible by boat. So even during August, there are a lot of deserted beaches. The weather was calm so we once again anchored out on the west side of the island at the gay nude beach. The shore dropped quite quickly so our boat was pretty close to shore. It didn’t take long before a couple of guys swam out to the boat. One of the guys was Greek and the other was from Switzerland. Then now live in Athens and come to Lefkas during the month of August. Later that day a couple of other guys came aboard. Sometimes having a nice sailboat on a naked gay beach is just the perfect place to meet some very fun guys.

Magnificent Meganisi

This Rorschach blot shaped island has more inlets and jagged coast line than any other of the Ionians. The top is especially well suited for deep anchorages. But the bays are deep and you need a lot of anchor chain to stay in the middle. So the boats are mostly anchored near the shore with a tie line to shore to keep them from swinging. We however did find a shallow enough spot right in the middle to spend the night. It is a big bay and when the night covered the bay, the stars blossomed in the sky. And all around us was a circle of mooring lights on the top of the masts of the other sailboats encircling us like a lite up lasso with us in the center. The water was like glass and little breeze all night. You could not help but jump into the inviting waters of this majestic bay.