Shenjin, Our Last Albania Port

Our last port in Albania is Shenjin. This Asian sounding town is named after St. George. It is really a very small village that happens to have a small port mostly for commercial fishermen. We decide to anchor our in a nearby bay and avoid the congested port. Just about dusk, Steve notices a guy waving to get our attention on shore. It ends up being the harbormaster. Over the VHF radio he tells us we are required to go into the harbor to do paperwork. When we get there, we are informed we have to pay 100 euro to the port authority even if we are not staying at the harbor. I am pretty sure this is not legal but the harbormaster and agent insist. We end up spending the night tied up to a tugboat. There wasn’t even a berth for us to stay in. As we are leaving I tell them I will pay the 100 euro but I am also reporting this to the tourist ministry. I then pull out my camera to take the picture of the two guys. The harbormaster turns away. Yeah I think they totally were just trying to get a fee out of us. It is sad that our last port in Albania would leave such a bad taste in our mouths. I am ready to move on to Montenegro.

North to Durres

We sail north to Durres, which is about 8 hours sail. The coast offers no safe shelter in between. The weather was nice and the ocean calm so it made for an enjoyable day out to sea. The port of Durres is the largest port in Albania. It is where all of the importing and exporting of goods change hands. Large cranes surround the harbor and high cement frame the docks. This port is really not set up for visiting yachts, but are glad to accommodate us. The town itself is also pretty industrial. This is not a town for vacationers. Tall residential apartment blocks ascend into the sky creating canyons to the streets below. The architecture is at least an attempt to do something more than square refrigerator type housing, and often are quite successful. But the abundance of tall building still gives the city a no nonsense industrial feel. In the early evening, the harbormaster boarded our boat. He is a happy guy in his late 50’s with gold braiding on his sleeve advertising his rank and authority. As it turns out he just wants to chat with us. So we discuss life with someone who has lived through the communist period and is now still working for the government. He talks of his two children, a boy and a girl going to university and his wife working as a teacher. He is obviously much better off financially than most of his fellow citizens. But it was not always so. He also talks of those dark days of communism when all food and gas was rationed if you could even get it; Of waking up at 3 in the morning to stand in line in hopes of getting some milk and still being turned away when the days allotment was gone. Very few people had any kind of refrigeration. So the neighbors would plead with those few who had such a convenience if they could store their meat, or other perishables. The refrigerator barons would do what they could but often there was never enough room for everyone’s needs. “Come back tomorrow maybe someone will eat their meat tonight and there will be room” was often heard. Now the food is better, and plenty of goods are available. But the wages are still very low. Average wage seems to be around $450 a month. Workers tell us they can’t afford to buy coffee in a café that sells for only a dollar. Families rarely can move out of mom and dads, so generations pull together to make things work.

Dressed to the Nines

This is certainly a city where what you put on in the morning is important and well though out. It is not unusual to see women in stiletto high heels walking down the street during the day in tight jeans or very short shorts. Their shoes and purse precisely match what they are wearing. Colors are strong and fashionable. Absolutely nothing looks just thrown on. This may be a Muslin country, but there is not a trace of Muslin influence on what is worn on the streets. The guys attention to their attire is the same. Hair coiffure, just the right pair of jeans, tailored shirts ironed and starched and expensive shoes. People wear clothes that fit them. There are no baggy pants hanging down past their butts, hardly any shorts on the guys, and no sloppy sweatshirts thrown on to run to the store. I decided I needed a new pair of jeans, so did a little shopping. The pricing was not cheap and the selection was very upscale designer type of choices. The most amazing thing to me is the size range was from 29” waist to 32” waist. That was their entire size range. As you look around it was all the size needed. Hardly anyone even has a soft stomach. Both the women and men are extremely fit. Even the old people stay in pretty good shape. This is a culture that prides itself in taking care of themselves and looking good. Oddly enough, it is also the first place in Europe where it has been a bit difficult finding any diet drinks. While they may be neat and tidy in their clothing, their telephone lines are a mess. There are wires everywhere in some neighborhood. If you want to add a new phone line, I think you just do it yourself.

Fabulous Food

The restaurants are incredibly inexpensive. It was not difficult to have a nice lunch for less than 500 lek, (only about 5 dollars) a huge dinner with appetizers and all the trimmings still only ran about 1000 to 1200 lek ($10-$12). Typical main courses were about 400 lek ($4) We tried lots of the local cosine and loved the mixing of unusual flavors with simmered sauces and oven-baked meat. Lamb is probably the most common meat served in Albania. Pork not so much since this is a predominately Muslin country. Our favorite was a fried white cheese with a blackberry sauce. Wow, my mouth loved that combination.

Tirana, The Capital

We took a packed mini bus into Tirana, the capital of Albania. It is about a two and a half hour trip of being tossed, bounced, jostled and bumped some more along heavily potted and rutted roads connecting smooth highways through a verdant countryside sprinkled with small family farms. The city itself is quite large with grand boulevards and spacious parks at the center of town. You can feel the eastern block Soviet influence in the government buildings. But any sign of communist rule has been scrubbed clean. Albania is boldly trying to push themselves into the modern world. For me, the most exciting place to visit was the Art History Museum. I love socialist propaganda art with its workers of the world as heroic figures. Massive arms pounding iron with hammers big enough to demolish a house and women charging into battle with rifles in hand wearing angelic faces fighting for glory. It is a style that eastern block countries perfected and Albania had some astonishing examples of this genre. I loved it. We stayed at a old stone hotel near the center of town that was reasonably priced and convenient. The hotel had an inviting restaurant attached to it right off the lobby. While we were checking in, I noticed one of the waiters walking his eyes all over us. He especially would just stare at my crotch. My gadar was pinging but, hey it is Albania and there are no gays in Albania.(lol) A couple of nights later we ended up eating at the hotel restaurant and the same guy was our waiter for the evening. He numbly broached the subject asking us where we were both from. When we said we were from San Francisco, he asked us if we lived together, then confessed to us in a hardly audible voice that he was gay. He wanted to talk to us but was terrified to do it at the restaurant. If anyone found out, he would be instantly fired. So our new best friend came up with a plan. After we were done eating he told us to order coffee be brought up to our room. We went up to our room and in a couple of minutes he brought in a tray of coffee. The waiter was still as jumpy as popcorn in hot oil, and was scared to stay more than a minute, but so wanted to talk to us. He said that he got off work at 11:30 and asked if we could wait for him at the end of the block far from the restaurant. Intrigued by the plot of a spy novel unfolding, we rendezvoused at the coded spot. We ended up walking around town with him as he spilled his story and life of a gay man in Albania. He had actually never been with a guy before. Our buddy was married and recently became a father of a baby girl. It is what you have to do if you are gay in Albania, and he was resigned to playing the part society dictates. There was really no place he felt comfortable being gay. No bars, no dance clubs, even the internet seemed too risky for him. My mind regressed back to my own life when I also thought the course was laid out for me what was expected. Maybe in 30 years, things will change.

The Bunkers of Albania

As you sail up the coast of this country, the one thing that is impossible to ignore are the concrete bunkers that look like they are out of a scene from an old WWII movie. They are strung out along the seashore like a cement strand of pearls. It is difficult to gaze at the landscape without it being interrupted by a round domed concrete bunker. The communist leader of Albania, Enver Hoxha, who was in power from the end of WWII until 1985 feared an invasion of his country from the west so decided to fortify it the way it was done in the war. He built over 750,000 of these bunkers. They are not only on the coast but are scattered throughout the country like buckshot. You see them in residential neighborhoods, plowed around on farm acreage and on city roads. With a population of just over 3 million, if there were two people in each bunker, they would fit about half of the population of the entire country. It is kind of sad to see how much effort and money was spent on something so useless when this country needs its resources going to much better causes. But then I could make that statement about most countries and the waste that is spent on fear of war.

Things You Notice in Albania

We tied the boat up in Orikum, the only tourist marina in Albania. It is about half way up the coast in an area that wants to be a tourist destination. Long pebbled beaches punctuated by small family-owned resorts surround the large bay. For a couple of months a year the locals tell us it is very busy. The rest of the year, hotels stay pretty empty and beaches deserted. In the middle of May, there were still a lot of very new hotels that haven’t even bothered to open yet. We were about the only tourists in the small town. And everyone knew we were foreigners. They were all a bit shy, but very friendly. The next morning we hear some loud explosions out near the harbor entrance. It turns out the way to fish in Albania is to drop dynamite over the edge of the boat. The explosion stuns the fish and a guy using a snorkel gathers up the fish stuffing them in his Speedo, surfacing to throw them into the boat. And yeah, the fish are stunned but still alive. We asked a local guy if this was legal and he said no, but who is going to do anything about it? If someone complains, they just throw a couple of dollars their way.

Arriving in Albania

Our first port for the summer is Saranda on the coast of Albania about 2 hours sail from Crofu. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was expecting from this country that time has passed by. We have heard wild rumors telling of misadventures, thievery, pirates, and bribes as well as friendly people, beautiful unspoiled coastal cities that welcomed visitors with open arms. Fortunately, it was the latter that welcomed us. Agimi, the port commissioner, met us when we were throwing our lines to the cleats and helped us secure the boat as well as the immigration papers and official entry stamps. This former Communist block country has settled into democracy and has quickly adapted to the western culture. We walked around the town for the first afternoon. Since it was May Day and an official holiday, not much was opened. But we managed to find a pleasant restaurant playing Mick Jagger’s classic “Satisfaction” and young Albanians sharing the afternoon with each other in Levis and tee shirts. Though this is a predominately Muslin country there was not much sign of it. What I did notice is lots of young boys wandering around, going to the beach and hanging out with each other. Very few young girls were anywhere to be seen. It is definitely a culture where the males rule the roost. We relaxed for the afternoon at a local restaurant, settling in with the free wifi signal and a soft drink. The next day we rented a car and drove to the impressive Roman ruins of Butrint. Butrint was already a bustling port city when Julius Caesar charged through with his army while chasing Pompeii around the countryside. Later when Augusta Caesar rose to power, he poured wealth into this ancient Roman city to make it a first class resort. The most prominent villa was built by one of the Senators of the time. There is a beautiful amphitheater that is surrounded with water and hundreds of turtles that sun themselves on the ancient stones. Somewhere along the way, the seas silted, time swept over the city and it crumbled in the jungle for a couple dozen centuries. It wasn’t until the 1930’s that archeologist dug and dusted off what was left of the crumbling stone to reveal what was once lost.

We then headed in the other direction to “Blue Eyes”, a natural underground spring. On the way we got a little lost. But we had fun with the locals as we use hand gestures, a few words of English that may or may not be the correct words to use and smiles to finally figure out where we made a wrong turn. But it was all worth it to see this incredible natural underground spring that penetrates deep into the earth. Divers have gone down over 200 feet and still not found the bottom. What comes out is crystal clear cool water that gushes enough to form its own river. The color of the hole ranges from turquoise fading to a deep cobalt blue. And the river that flows from it is also crystal clear since there is no silt from rainwater washing into it. The spring and river are both beautiful and amazing to see.

Cleaning in Corfu

We have a couple of weeks to get the boat ready to sail for the summer season. Sails have to be put back in place, the tender has to be pumped back up, supplies need to be bought, bikes have to be lubed and adjusted, but above all the boat needs to be scoured clean. After a winter moored at this island that has heavy rains all winter, we had a lot of scrubbing to do. We scrubbed, and washed and sprayed and polished and then started all over again until the decks are as sparkly white as a Donny Osmond smile. We also decided to redo our bedding. I talked Steve into sewing new duvet covers for all the berths. They look great. A couple of the local Greek guys that I have come to know over the years visited us on the boat. They are always eager to spend some more time with us and we have fun seeing them.

On to Athens

We caught a fast plane and flew directly to Athens with a very brief layover in London. Our plane arrived in London late because of delays in taking off. As we got off the plane, there was someone from the airport to greet us and shuffle us quickly to our plane taking us to the plane flying us to Athens. We wouldn’t have made it without his help as he whisked us through security and maze of Heathrow. We left San Francisco on Friday afternoon and didn’t make it to Athens until 6pm Saturday night. Of course there were some time zone changes in there, but I have to say, it feels like a very long day. We are pretty casual travelers and didn’t bother booking a hotel or our flight to Corfu. But everything worked out. The next day was the Greek Orthodox Easter, a week later from the one we celebrate, so the city should be buttoned up pretty tight. We decided to stay a few days to celebrate their Easter and then see the new National Museum on Monday. I haven’t been there since Greece opened the new one up, and I have wanted to see it the last couple of times I have been in Athens. But when we arrived early Monday morning, we found out it was closed for the day. After two days of hanging around Athens to visit the museum was enough. We got on our plane to Corfu that evening and made our way to our floating home. The museum will have to wait for another trip through. It is so nice being back.

For Sale in San Francisco

Once more we spent the winter in San Francisco sharing our time with family and friends. In December, Larry, who owned the beautiful Victorian on Page Street with Steve announced that he was retiring and moving to Palm Springs. The house sold in one day with multiple offers before it even made it to multiple listings. So for the past couple of months Steve has been selling, giving away, and storing 23 years worth of too many items he has collected in his way to much storage space of a garage. It was a lot of work and we are happy to have it all behind us as we look forward to this summer in the Mediterranean. We got to the airport in plenty of time to check bags, shuffle things between our pieces of luggage so they would weigh the right amount and go through security. It was the first time I have been through a full body scanner. I was surprised at how fast it was. I think it was faster than walking through the standard metal detector. Steve went right through but when I got to the other side, the authority pulled me aside and asked me to empty my right pocket. I pulled the pocket inside out and there was nothing in it. He says to me, “What do you have in there a wad of money?” Then he puts his hand on my dick and squeezes it to see what it was. He just looks up at me and says, “oh”. I just smiled at him and proceeded to the gate without further incident.

Back Early for Burning Man

We came back to the states at the end of August just in time to jump in the truck and head to Burning Man. Burning Man is really one of the most fun things we do each year. The theme this year was “Rites of Passage”. Since our camp is mostly a gay camp, we decided to celebrate this year’s theme with that event in everyone’s life when they come out. I am not talking about just coming out gay. I am talking about coming out as anything you want. We had a tea dance where people could come out however or for whatever they wanted to. Some came out as a rock star, some as a Catholic schoolgirl, some as a Birtney Spears wanta be, some came out as Republican. It was all in good fun and our camp did a wonderful job of décor to build on the theme and enjoy the event. For the first time I was invited to participate in the fire conclave. Before the “Man” is burned, they have a huge fire show where a couple hundred fire spinners put on a show at the base of the man. There is all kinds of fire being thrown, blown, spun, twirled or whatever. Since Steve and I were not here all summer to practice with the group, we only acted as fire safety in case someone’s clothes started on fire. It was still fun being in the center of all the activity and actually putting out a couple of people’s costumes. After the performance, we were allowed to stay in the center circle just far enough away from the burning man to be safe. What a site. We ended up staying home rather than going back to Europe. There are so many events in San Francisco that we miss doing in the fall when the weather is at its best. It certainly was fun connecting with friends, participating in the concerts, taking some classes and enjoying the City.

Corinth Cannel

The next morning we continue west. Rather than having to sail all the way around the Peloponnese, we are able to take a short cut through the Corinth Cannel. The cannel is about a 3.2-mile stretch that connects the Gulf of Corinth with the Aegean Sea. Nero first started digging the cannel back in Roman times using 6000 Jewish slaves, but never finished it. It seems a little uprising in Gaul distracted him from the project. Octavia tried to bridge the gap by building a road and dragging his boats across this narrow stretch of lands. The remains of that road can still be seen. It wasn’t until 1893 that the cannel was finally cut through the limestone. In its day, it was quite the engineering feat. A hundred plus years later, it is almost outdated. Too narrow and too shallow to really function for commercial ships, the cannel is used mostly for private boats like ours taking a shortcut to the Gulf of Patras. As we pass through we can still see many of the original stonework used to hold up the limestone walls on both sides.

So Long from Salamis

The week has flown by and we find ourselves on the historical island of Salamis for their last night on the boat. We choose a quiet private bay where we are the only boat to anchor out for the evening to spend the last night together. I fixed a Thai dish of lemon chicken and stir fry vegetables for dinner that we have on the front of the boat complete with linen tablecloth and napkins. It has been a full week that seems some how less than 7 days. In the sun breaking light of morning we take the group to the Athens marina so they can catch their flights. Fortunately our trip is not over and we choose to go back to Salamis for another night anchored this time on the southern coast. This summer I read a historical book about the rise to greatness that Athens obtained before Christ’s birth redated the calendar. The island of Salamis played a major role in fighting off the Persian king Xerxes from taking control of the Athenian empire. Through trickery and strategic maneuvering, they trapped the Persian navy in the narrow waterways between Salamais and the mainland. It is actually this same invasion that the famous 300 Spartans held the Persians at the pass. They all died in battle, but their bravery became legendary for centuries. Through their bravery, Persia was unable to reinforce their navy with ground troops. The battle off of Salamis so destroyed the Xerxes’s navy that the Persians were forced to give up their goal of ruling this part of the Mediterranean. One of the things I have enjoyed about spending so much time in the Mediterranean is learning more European history and having it come to life as we visit these important pivotal places where a nations fate hung in the balance.

Kea Without the I or the Furniture

We arrive early in the day to the island of Kea and the town quay is practically empty. So we drop our anchor and back up, securing our stern lines to the iron rings embedded into the concrete quay. It is so lovely that we wonder why there are so few of visitors here. As the afternoon progressed, it took little time for other boats to arrive. A bigger boat arrives and wiggles in between only to be outdone by an even bigger arrival until the entire quay was bumper to bumper full. Ok, it was not quite an undiscovered paradise that we thought it was. The tempo of the little town increased and it takes on an entirely different vibe. There are plenty of traditional Greek restaurants, art galleries and shops selling just what you need to remember your time in this charming little village.

Kithnos

Like most of Greece the history of this island goes back millenniums ago when it was famous for producing the lyrical poets Simonides and Bacchlides and the physician Erasistratos. Those names are long in the dustbin of history, but in their day their fame brought world travelers to these shores. Now it is the quiet bays, whitewashed houses with bright blue shutters, old Greek women dressed in black. picking their way down narrow stone streets, and shops selling locally made items crafted with care that bring the travelers. We choose an anchorage that is well protected from the sea and has a sandy beach connecting a smaller island to the main island. This is a bay where no lights from even a village penetrate. When the sun sets, the inky night skies are punctured with a dazzling show of nighttime pricks of light. The nights and the waters are warm enough to dive off the boat and just float looking up and dreaming of another more ancient time. I some how feel connected to a civilization that extends back so far in history who also looked at that spectacular sky. While the world has changed dramatically from their days of glory, the one thing that remains a constant is the night sky. The gang hikes to the small village at the far end of the bay for a night of exploring. When everyone returns back to the boat at around 2am they share tales of hitchhiking in the back of a pickup, renting motor scooters, more amazing food and unlocking the magic of this Greek island. There is plenty of time for napping in the sun on the front of the boat while we travel to the next island adventure in the morning.

Siros, Syros, or just Seriously Beautiful

The Greeks have yet to decide how to spell the names of the islands. Almost all of the Islands have two or three spellings. Some have completely different names that are used simultaneously. Santorini for example is also known as Thera. But however you spell it, we head to Siros, the capital of the Cyclades. We avoid the main port and instead choose two secluded bays to hang out in. Our guests rented motor scooters and crawled all over the island making sure they didn’t miss anything. When they came back to the boat in the wee hours of the morning, they raved about the amazing food at a restaurant on the top of the hill, the crimson skies of Greece at sunset and small villages tucked away in the tops of the hills of this rugged island.

A New Crew, and New Fun

We pick up a group of 6 friends on Mykonos who plan to sail with us to Athens. These are friends who have dreamed of a Greek island sailing adventure. Their special talent is making the most fun they possibly can as often as they can. Fortunately the winds have calmed down and the aggressive Etesian winds have dissipated. We have a week of smooth sailing and calm waters. Before we leave Mykonos, the gang does some exploring and visits the sacred nearby island of Delos. The next day we head for Syros. There is nothing like unfurling the majestic white sails as they grab the wind. You feel the power in nature take over as we shut off the engines. Blue skies and even bluer seas set the scene for a perfect course to the next island. And if that setting was not enough perfection we are rewarded with a brief visit from a playful dolphin that seems intent on making sure the gangs first visit to Greece is as magical as they envisioned it to be.

Aquatic Rodeo in Mykonos

The new Mykonos harbor was built by EU money and left for the Greeks to finish. So of course it has never been finished. There is water and electricity on the quay, but none of it is turned on. Mooring lines have been laid in some places, but despite the fact that they were laid only last year, they are still in a state of disrepair. With all of the dysfunction of this port, the main problem is that there is little to no protection from the strong Meltomi winds. When we came into the marina the winds were 25 knots. That strong of winds does not make landing a boat safely to the quay an easy job. To do it without incident requires a lot of experience and sometimes just plain luck. We call it harbor theater. Or sometimes harbor drama. One couple referred to it as Aquatic Rodeo. It is both entertaining and horrifying in a car wreck kind of way. Because Mykonos is only a couple day sail from Athens it gets a lot of sailors who sail maybe every couple of years renting boats for the week to have a holiday in the Greek islands. Mix that with forceful winds and you have a combination that can only be spelled d-i-s-a-s-t-e-r. One by one we saw boats running into the quay at full speed knocking chunks of fiberglass off their hulls, anchor chains crossing in an unbelievable tangled mess and boats being blown sideways into the bows of other boats. I would estimate that 80% of the boats in the marina were either the battering rams or the receiving end of the out of control boats. It was so bad, we felt uncomfortable to leave the boat to go do anything. We were more than happy to leave the marina after a couple of days of stress and wind. It is here also that we leave Carlos and Felix. It has been really fun having them along. We enjoyed their company and getting to know each other better. It was fun spending the evenings dining at the local tavernas, discussing European politics and playing games. Felix ended up being crowned best game player on the boat. We will miss them both and hope they come back sometime for another adventure with us.

Oh My Gosh, Armorgos

As we pass the narrow coastline of Armogos, the winds plunge down the steep cliff walls to reach gusts of over 35 knots. But it is the waves that continue to be the most punishing. We reef the sails down and make our way around the island. There is a small protected bay on the west side of the island that will be a safe place for the night. Along the bays edge, restaurants hang their octopus out to dry like newly laundered clothing and streetlights create a necklace that twinkles around the harbor as night falls. There are three other boats also anchored out. We bob up and down together in sync with the rolling waves that dwindle in strength. By the time they reach us the waves are no more than a gentle rocking. We should sleep well tonight. It is so peaceful in this lazy bay that we decide to stay a couple of days. We rent a car the next day with Carlos and Felix to visit places not reached by boat. The “you gotta see” thing on Amorgos is the Greek Orthodox monastery that clings to the face of a sheer cliff. Its whitewashed walls look more like a waterfall than something that was met for living in. There are shallow caves that extend no more than 5 meters into the cliff and the monastery façade in front of these caves tower 8 stories high. The wonder is how they managed to get the building materials up the steep sides and how were they planning to support this monastery once it was inhabited.. You have to wonder why they chose this cliff almost 1000 feet above the sea in a sheer cliff. Well the legend goes like this. In the 9th century numerous icons were destroyed in Jerusalem. The icon known as “the Dark-eyed Mary was broken in half and thrown into the sea by an old woman that thought it was safer than being burned by the heretics. One half of the sacred icon drifted to the shores of Amorgos where a chapel was build at the end of the 11th century. Later, the chapel was replaced by this monastery. But what of the other half of the icon? 
It drifted to the island of Patmos where another monastery was built. The two islands are therefore connected by the icon of Panagia Hozoviotissa. The two halves of the icon were reunited and… miraculously sealed together. We climbed up the steep stairs to this impressive fortress of a monastery and crouched through the tiny 4-foot door that would have been home to Alice in Wonderland. More steep steps in a narrow passage only reinforced its fictional feel of any real place. At the top of the stairs there is a small chapel with solid silver dragons used to support candles to light the chapel. Byzantine icons line the walls. Silver chandeliers with iconic dragons hold candles that illuminate the chapel. And if you look closely to the left of the alter, you will find a wooden box with a glass lid containing a bone from Saint George. I take it that is why the chandelier was of dragons. Then we head for some beach fun to soak up that famous Mediterranean sun. We stop at a few really beautiful beaches. Felix hears about a terrific nude beach just a couple of villages away. So we get back in the car and head for the promised beach. It turns out to be a wonderful sandy beach with a small group of people hanging out in the afternoon sun.

Fluttering through the Islands

We spend a night on Kos in a quiet well-protected bay. Then on to Astipalaia, the butterfly shaped island. Where the two wings touch together there is secure anchorage with strong protection. The winds continue to be strong and the waves seem to rise and fall in front of us like liquid fortresses. Sometimes they dissolve right in front of us like cotton candy on a rainy day and other times we crash through them with saltwater scrubbing our decks like a washing machine in its rinse cycle.

Castles in the Air

We skip through the islands with Carlos and Felix like a smooth rock thrown against the glassy surface of still waters. Yet the water is not even close to being smooth. As we come in to Simi, windsurfers are skirting back and forth at speeds that are nothing short of amazing. These are islands that we have visited before. Some we remember more than others. Simi is the island with the castle built at the top of a high peak surrounded by white squared houses that from a distance look like sugar cubes holding up the castle that served as its protection for so many years. Now the castle is in ruin and the economic difficulties of Greece are no match to the stonewalls that once could repel her enemies. The young people grow up and move away to the more prosperous cities like Athens, leaving the old to click their canes through the narrow streets and settle into café chairs to contemplate their past glory. What is left behind is a small village with tasty restaurants and decaying windmills on the hill that no longer grind the village wheat into flour. What time cannot take away from this island are the beautiful beaches, clear sapphire water and deep bays that still protect the boats that come to visit the shops and eat at the restaurants.

Meltimi is Upon Us

A couple of guys from Spain join us for this part of our journey. And things start off with a lot of excitement. This part of the Aegean Sea can have some of the strongest winds in Europe during the summer months. July and August can be particularly ferocious. And this week the Aegean delivered on its promise of these annual northerly winds. It is these winds that my boat gets her name. The winds are the results of a high-pressure system lying over the Balkan/Hungary area and a relatively low-pressure system over Turkey. You can tell when the winds are starting to form because the dew quits appearing in the morning and the boat deck is dry. As the week progresses, so does the wind strength. And where there are strong winds, big waves follow. We can reef down the sails to accommodate the increase in wind speed, but there is not much to do about the mounting waves. Given the right conditions these winds can strengthen even further on the leeward side of some islands. We watched on Amorgos as the winds plunged straight down the cliffs into the sea. A circle of wind would radiate out and within less than a mile form large waves. Fortunately the catamaran handles the winds and the waves very well. And when the waves get too rough we can go inside the salon area and literally sail the boat from in there using the automatic pilot.