After three weeks of
doing the tourist track in Istanbul it was time to leave.
Notwithstanding the occasional trip out to sea, either to anchor for
a few days in the Princes Islands or to cruise the eastern end of the
Sea of Marmara, after three separate visitors and three tours of the
sights I had had enough; that said Istanbul is a fantastic city and I
would leap at the chance to come back again but I fear it will be a
few years before that happens.
|
Kurukulla alongside a trawler in Cakilkoy |
We departed from
Yalova marina a day later than planned to allow Jayson the
opportunity to reach the boat easily without trekking around half of
Turkey to join us. On departure we were three onboard with Stephen
due to leave a day later. Our day of departure was brilliant sunshine
but windless! In fact we motored much of the way from Yalova to
Kakilkoy; a small, sleepy, fishing port some 50 miles west. On
arrival it was evident that there were no med moor berths available
for us, let alone alongside as a result we dropped Stephen on one of
the fishing trawlers and left him to go research transport from
Kakilkoy to Bandirma, from where he was to catch his ferry back to
Istanbul the next morning. Within ten minutes he had found a suitable
taxi and also agreed with the owner of the trawler, where we had
dropped him off, that we could remain alongside all night; they were
not going to sea; only later did we find out that none of the
trawlers go to sea during Ramadan. At eight that night the taxi
turned up to take him to the ferry port, the only minor problem was
that he was not due to leave until eight the next morning!
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Marmara north coast, one big marble hole in the ground. |
Language
difficulties. In the event the taxi driver pointed him in the
direction of a dolmus (Minibus) which was due to leave for Bandirma
at 0830 the next morning, a very generous gesture which cost the taxi
driver money but saved it for Stephen.
Next morning Jayson
and I waved him off and then set sail for the Pasalimani Islands to
spend the next three days cruising the islands and doing a
circumnavigation of the island of Marmara. After that it was a visit
to Erdek again to re-victual and water and then a final night in the
Pasalimani Islands before setting off west for the entrance to the
Dardanelles.
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Jayson at Pasalimani |
Our passage from Pasalimani west was originally intended
to take us to Karabiga but in the event we made such good speed
downwind under “Solent Rig” (Genoa only) that we pressed on to
Kemer, inside the Dardanelles, and anchored to the south of the
harbour for a quiet night onboard before pressing on to Canakkale the
next morning. The passage to Canakkale was rapid to say the least;
with up to 4 kts of current assisting us and a 25 to 30kt
north-easterly pushing us along we made the passage in record time.
|
Jayson and I taking a coffee at Erdek |
By 1400 we were berthed in the marina and Jayson was preparing to
depart for the backpacking part of his Turkish adventure.
My crew from Canakkale
onwards was Nick who arrived at 0100 the following morning having
flown in from Gatwick via Oslo and Istanbul, a tortuous flight but
economic and all went well.
|
Pasalimani |
The forecast for the next day was not
good, N gusting 37kts plus and so we decided to spend the day
victualling the boat, sightseeing in Canakkale, completing the exit
formalities for Turkey and then to make an early departure the next
day. For the exit formalities I decided to use an agent, he duly
arrived and agreed a price of 200YTL for the task which would take
him three hours; at 1500 he would have all the papers back with us
and we would be free to leave at sunrise the next day.
|
Supper at Kemer |
Suffice to say
it was 1730 when the papers arrived back in the hands of an
assistant, duly completed, and the price had strangely gone from
200YTL to €200, i.e. trebled! After a slightly heated debate we
settled on €120, but I still felt as though I had been “ripped
off” as our agreement had been quite clearly understood; they were
trying to compensate for the additional time it had taken them but
that was their bad judgement.
Next morning, at 0600,
we set sail from Canakkale Marina and crossed the Dardanelles to the
western side before sailing downwind, at 10kts (overground, by GPS),
|
Turkish memorial at Gallipoli |
south westwards out of the Dardanelles past the Turkish and British
memorials on the southern tip of the Gallipoli peninsula. From here
it was a brisk reach 50 miles westwards to Limnos where we had
decided to anchor for the first night just south Ak Mourtzeflos, the
NW tip of the island.
So taken were we with
this remote and unspoilt anchorage we stayed a second night before
moving on to Mirina, the capital of the island, where we were due to
enter Greece officially. Limnos is beautiful and I immediately fell
in love with the island. Not overpopulated, nor crowded with
tourists, but lively and full of character nonetheless.
|
Anchorage NW Limnos |
On going stern to in
the port of Mirina the first task was to enter Greece and the EU
officially. A trip to the local Port Police achieved all of the
bureaucratic actions in one fell swoop, never before have I had the
pleasure of such efficient service, no running around three different
offices and the young official who I dealt with knew all the latest
rules, a real pleasure; but, the stamp needed to stamp my cruising
permit was in use elsewhere and so I would have to come back at 2000
to collect the paperwork. No problem, after such good service it was
a small price to pay. Sadly the same official was not present on my
return; not only did his relief not want to give me back my
paperwork, he had to summon a female colleague to interpret for him
as he spoke little or no English.
|
Myrina, Limnos |
His female colleague agreed that I
should take my papers but then insisted that I come back the next day
for an exit stamp, I explained that as an EU registered yacht I
needed stamps on the permit only on entry and exit to Greece, or once
per year if still in Greece. She disagreed and suggested that if I
departed Mirina without a stamp she would call ahead to Thessaloniki
and “cause trouble for me there”! I called back in the office
next day and explained why I was not going to have my documents
stamped before departure and the official on duty agreed that my
understanding of the new rules was correct. I invited him to re-brief
his colleague and suggest to her that “if you are unsure of the
regulations it is better to stay quiet and have people think you are
stupid than to open your mouth and prove it beyond all reasonable
doubt”.
|
Mirina waterfront, Limnos |
He smiled!
That afternoon the
wind was blowing 20 to 25kts from the east, right along the line of
the jetty to which we were berthed, all of the yachts were leaning
against each other and it was not going to be long before someone's
anchor dragged and the whole row of boats would find themselves
grating against the jetty. We decided to get out before it happened
and move round to the next bay south which was a large open bay with
plenty of room to swing at anchor. After delaying until 1700 for the
harbour office to open to enable us to pay our harbour dues (in fact,
after waiting until 1715 and then consulting the Port Police, I was
informed that man responsible for the harbour office had decided not
to re-open again today as no new boats would arrive in these high
winds; we were officially given a free stay!) we got underway.
|
Mirina castle, Limnos |
Despite the surprise
of our two neighbours, who thought it was too windy to leave harbour,
we exited our berth without mishap and motored round to Ornos Plati
arriving 30 minutes later. The anchor was somewhat reluctant to
penetrate the weed, which was much more extensive than the pilot
suggested, but after three attempts we got it to hold. Despite
veering 50m of cable and being in only 8m depth it was not to last
the night, At 2330, with the wind still rising, the anchor drag alarm
went off and we had to reset the anchor in the pitch black.
Successfully achieved, further towards the eastern end of the bay,
and now with 60m of cable out, we settled down for the night. Next
morning we were awoken by the coxswain of the rescue boat from the
Mark Warner, Limnos Bay Hotel, water-sports centre informing us that
we were in the middle of their sailing area.
|
Sun setting over Mount Athos, from Ormos Plati |
He advised us it was not
a problem for them but that we would have numerous sailing craft
around us most of the day. In fact because of the wind strength it
was to provide us with considerable entertainment throughout the day
watching the various craft capsize and right themselves or be
rescued. Because of the weather we, on the other hand, decided not to
go round to Ormos Moudhrou, the bay from which the British Gallipoli
campaign was waged and supported, but to leave for Khalkidhiki from
Ormos Plati at daybreak the next morning.
The sail across to
Mount Athos and into the Gulf of Singitik was a fast reach all the
way, averaging 8 kts. Only after we turned into the gulf, south of
Mount Athos, did we lose some of the wind and drop in speed. Soon
after arriving in the Gulf we were challenged by a Coast-Guard RIB (I
think they were going to complain about our attire, or lack of it; we
rectified the problem before their arrival!).
|
Mount Athos |
In the event, when they
came alongside, they initially limited themselves to informing us
that we were not allowed closer than 500m from the sacred shoreline
(we were a mile offshore) after which a second, older member of the
crew questioned our ensign, not believing it was a British ensign
(Kurukulla wears blue ensign, not red, by virtue of my membership of
the Royal Naval Sailing Association) that explained he then demanded
to know where our Greek courtesy flag was, pointing at the RNSA
burgee on the port halyard; there ensued another explanation that it
was in the senior position on the starboard halyard, where tradition
dictates it should be, and if he looked between the genoa and
mainsail he would see it there! By this time his colleagues were
sufficiently embarrassed by his lack of knowledge that they
accelerated and turned away, before he could put his foot in his
mouth again, giving us a cheery wave and a broad smile as they
departed! Despite this brief interlude we had a very pleasant sail
up the gulf to Nisos Amouliani, where we anchored in the bay on the
western side for the night. I had anchored here in 2011 and knew it
to be a pleasant, if touristy, spot.
Next morning, after
breakfast and a leisurely swim we set off for the anchorage inside
Nisis Dhiaporos, on the opposite side of the gulf.
|
Nisis Dhiaporos |
It was a close
fetch across and a great sail. On arrival we entered through the
southern entrance into the sound between the island and the mainland
shore and then chose a quiet and unspoilt anchorage on the island
shore at Ormos Mesopanayia. A quiet night here was followed by
motoring out next morning through the northern entrance and a brief
visit to Panayia town, to get some fresh victuals, a useful stop and
where there is now a small marina as well as the town quay. After
sending Nick ashore, with me pottering about the bay, I picked him up
again and we set off for Ormos Sikias, near the southern tip of the
Sinthonia (middle) peninsula. After a beat to windward, the whole
way, we entered the bay at Ormos Sikias at 1700 and anchored in the
SW corner, in 5m on pure golden sand. Idyllic!
|
Athos in the early morning from Ormos Sikias |
Next morning we
watched the sun rise over mount Athos before taking a leisurely swim
and then getting underway for the passage to Nea Skioni, the next
destination. In the event the wind died away in the later part of the
afternoon and as a consequence we anchored off the shoreline a mile
or two short of the town, in a flat calm. It stayed that way for the
rest of the night and most of the following day resulting in a
frustrating days motoring to get to Ak Epanomi, where again we
anchored off the vast sandy beach in a flat calm. The next day we had
to be in Thessaloniki for Nick's departure early the following
morning; the windless morning did not get the day off to a promising
start however by 1400 a south-westerly breeze had established itself
and by 1600 we were enjoying a great spinnaker run which took us all
the way to Thessaloniki Marina.
|
Ormos Sikias |
A great finish for Nick. It also
served to remind me that I really must get a new spinnaker! This one
still has the remains of the Italian sail number carried by Kurukulla
when she was raced under her first name, Noefra. Anyone know of a
good condition, second-hand, spinnaker, suited to a Grand Soleil 39,
Swan 40, or similar which is available to purchase?
Arrival in
Thessaloniki Marina was fairly easy but it has a quite run down air
about it. Two thirds of the berths are empty. We tried two berths
before finding a berth with holding off lines of sufficient length
and the electric and water connections are looking very tired. That
said the lady who is the office manager is a star and exceptionally
helpful.
|
Anchorage just south of Skioni |
The marina is run by the local council and is therefore low
cost but it sticks to the regime of charging from midnight to
midnight therefore for one night you have to pay for two days. This
is laid down in the regulations governing town quays in some obscure
piece government legislation but I have only seen it applied in two
places, Mykonos Marina and Thessaloniki.
My major task whilst
in Thessaloniki was to replace the three 100Ah domestic batteries
which were failing rapidly.
|
My rather tired spinnaker |
In Greece's second largest city you would
think that might be easy. It was not, but I eventually succeeded with
the assistance of “Marineshop” an exceedingly helpful chandler on
the road just above the marina. €580 later it was all fixed! Not
too bad.......
More when I
leave.......