Track us via the YOTREPS gadget or www.shiptrak.org call sign N4KS
To read about our early years, go to: www.tripsailor.com/kstuber
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Images of places we’ve recently been
Friday, May 23, 2014
Island hopping
On our final morning in Astakos, Ken noticed an older gentleman standing on the rocks, busily bashing a couple of unfortunate octopi to death by whacking the heck out of them on the rocks. Although brutal to watch, we'd seen this before, and it appears to be the standard Greek method of dispatching these creatures. What happened next was new, though. A sea lion swam up to the man, who tossed the octopi to him, as if he were feeding a pet. The sea lion eagerly gobbled this breakfast, then turned and swam back out to the bay. Figuring that it was doubtful that we'd see anything to top that, we weighed anchor and set sail for tiny One House Bay on the eastern shore of Atoko Island.
At the end of a sunny 13-mile motor-sail, we anchored in crystal-clear turquoise water, so pristine that it reminded us of stunning Phi Phi Le in Thailand. We dropped our new anchor in white sand among patches of weed, and had the bonus of being able to check its set simply by looking down.
One House Bay has (you guessed it) one house, but also one small chapel. Both were empty, but icons still hung in the chapel, and the spicy fragrance of long-gone incense still lingered in the air. The path to the house was overgrown, but Ken pushed through the bushes to check it out anyway, while arachnophobic Katie waited on the beach, unwilling to bushwhack past the numerous webs. There was nothing much else to see here, so after briefly sunning ourselves on the warm pebbly beach, we returned to SD, with Ken braving the chilly water to swim both ways. (Katie wimped out and rowed the dinghy.)
The following morning we sailed for the island of Kastos, a mere seven miles to the north. Motor-sailing at first, we were actually able to kill the engine after a bit and sail on a nice beam reach. We entered Port Kastos' tiny harbor and tied up bow-on to the quay among a half-dozen other yachts. Med-mooring, as this type of docking is called, can be a pretty tricky maneuver. However, SD's captain coaxed her in with a skilled and tender touch to within 18 inches of the quay, so "spot-on" that the crew, standing on the bow roller, was able to simply step ashore and tie her up.
This tiny place is a popular charter boat stop, with a handful of tavernas in a quiet idyllic setting. We got a couple of cold beers, did a bit of WiFi, and in the evening spent a leisurely visit over a glass of wine with our "next-door" neighbor, Serge, a French Canadian single-hander. We set out the following sunny morning for a hike in the hills above the harbor. The island is charmingly pastoral, with a small herd of sheep and goats grazing in a field near the waterfront. Our walk took us past a ruined windmill, and along groves of gnarly old trees, with the only sounds being the hum of summer insects and a bit of occasional bird-song. Scents of sage, thyme, and eucalyptus drifted on the warm air. We saw a couple of guys working on a house, and waved to one old farmer watering something, but otherwise our walk was solitary, with gorgeous views of the Ionian Sea far below, and of Nisos Kalamos (tomorrow's destination) across the channel.
Cheers! K&K
SandDollar_N4KS@yahoo.com
To track us, click on the YOTREPS gadget or go to: www.shiptrak.org - call sign N4KS
At the end of a sunny 13-mile motor-sail, we anchored in crystal-clear turquoise water, so pristine that it reminded us of stunning Phi Phi Le in Thailand. We dropped our new anchor in white sand among patches of weed, and had the bonus of being able to check its set simply by looking down.
One House Bay has (you guessed it) one house, but also one small chapel. Both were empty, but icons still hung in the chapel, and the spicy fragrance of long-gone incense still lingered in the air. The path to the house was overgrown, but Ken pushed through the bushes to check it out anyway, while arachnophobic Katie waited on the beach, unwilling to bushwhack past the numerous webs. There was nothing much else to see here, so after briefly sunning ourselves on the warm pebbly beach, we returned to SD, with Ken braving the chilly water to swim both ways. (Katie wimped out and rowed the dinghy.)
The following morning we sailed for the island of Kastos, a mere seven miles to the north. Motor-sailing at first, we were actually able to kill the engine after a bit and sail on a nice beam reach. We entered Port Kastos' tiny harbor and tied up bow-on to the quay among a half-dozen other yachts. Med-mooring, as this type of docking is called, can be a pretty tricky maneuver. However, SD's captain coaxed her in with a skilled and tender touch to within 18 inches of the quay, so "spot-on" that the crew, standing on the bow roller, was able to simply step ashore and tie her up.
This tiny place is a popular charter boat stop, with a handful of tavernas in a quiet idyllic setting. We got a couple of cold beers, did a bit of WiFi, and in the evening spent a leisurely visit over a glass of wine with our "next-door" neighbor, Serge, a French Canadian single-hander. We set out the following sunny morning for a hike in the hills above the harbor. The island is charmingly pastoral, with a small herd of sheep and goats grazing in a field near the waterfront. Our walk took us past a ruined windmill, and along groves of gnarly old trees, with the only sounds being the hum of summer insects and a bit of occasional bird-song. Scents of sage, thyme, and eucalyptus drifted on the warm air. We saw a couple of guys working on a house, and waved to one old farmer watering something, but otherwise our walk was solitary, with gorgeous views of the Ionian Sea far below, and of Nisos Kalamos (tomorrow's destination) across the channel.
Cheers! K&K
SandDollar_N4KS@yahoo.com
To track us, click on the YOTREPS gadget or go to: www.shiptrak.org - call sign N4KS
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Astakos (mainland) Greece
We made a Monday morning post-coffee departure from quiet Petalas Bay for a 2-hour motor-sail under overcast skies, and dropped anchor off the beach at the town of Astakos. A decidedly un-touristy town, the tiny harbor is occupied by a handful of fishing boats and other workboats. There are only a few signs in English, but we managed to find WiFi and a cold beer, so we feel that we’re living large!
Ken found sweet fresh water on the quay, which we used for a bit of wash-up for SD and a bucket of hand laundry. Solar showers are full for the crew to clean up. Today has been warm and sunny, but our nights are still chilly enough for the captain to be sleeping under the down sleeping bag. (Crew is comfy with two light blankets.) We still find an occasional spider, but otherwise it’s a been a bug-free cruise. We do see a random honeybee, staggering around, sluggish with the spring chill. These pose no problem other than requiring that we watch our step on deck. lest we step on one, which would be painful for us, and no picnic for the bee, either.
Despite the aforementioned chill, which of course includes the water, we see intrepid swimmers paddling around with apparent nonchalance. What a bunch of troupers! This has been a great stop, with our position a few yards off the town beach affording us great people-watching opportunities from the cockpit. The town buildings rise up a steep hill, and cascades of bougainvillea drape the balconies. We had lunch in the shady courtyard of a local café, where a few tables of locals chatted and one woman in particular, obviously strong in her convictions, loudly proclaimed to neighboring patrons in rapid-fire Greek about Lord knows what. Even though we were clueless, it was great fun to watch. We sail tomorrow for a little bay called One House Bay on the island of Atoko a few miles east of Ithaka (yes, that Ithaka). Ciao for now! K&K
Images of Astakos:
Local, fishing with a hand line next to SD.
Anchorages don’t get much better than this!
The local produce can’t be beat!
Click on the YOTREPS gadget to see where we are, or go to www.shiptrak.org - call sign N4KS
Sunday, May 18, 2014
And so it begins.....
After her long winter "on the hard", SD's "splash day" dawned bright and sunny. The boatyard crew arrived mid-morning with a trailer to tow SD to the water, and they began positioning the trailer skids under her hull so that the jack-stands could be removed. Ken had put a fresh coat of paint on her bottom over the past few days, and she was looking pretty darn spiffy, and now he had the opportunity to touch up the bits where she'd perched on the stands. As he hurried from spot to spot with his roller and paint, the yard crew busily worked at positioning the trailer and pulling the jack-stands, amid excited cries to each other of "Opa! Opa!". This Greek word, sometimes a toast, sometimes a cheer, is evidently a multi-purpose exclamation, and we were told by locals that in this case, it meant "slowly", or something similar.
Meanwhile, Katie, still on deck, high above the action, scurried fore and aft, lowering solar panels, hanging fenders, and rigging dock-lines. Despite her best attempts at speed, she was apparently working too "opa" for the crew, as heavily accented Greek voices began calling up, "Lady! Come down!". Ken, watching from the ground, remarked at this point that although a hurry-up approach was indeed desirable, treading lightly on deck was probably a good idea, as the arrangements below were looking none too stable. Hearing this, the lady was only too happy to come down, after which the boarding ladder was removed, and SD was trundled off to water's edge. There, amid a fresh chorus of "Opa! Opa!" from the workers, a crane gently lifted her from her cradle, and into the water she went. Easy peasy. Or, as Ken's friend Mike ("the Puck") says, "Dink, dink,.....and dink.".
We climbed aboard and motored off to an outer pontoon a comfy distance from the crowded marina docks. Ken had scoped out this scenic little spot on a reconnaissance walk, and in the spirit of "it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission", we simply enacted squatter's rights and tied up there. No one ever came to evict us from our berth, and we enjoyed our quiet private spot, with its nice view of the nearby meadow and the Missalonghi channel.
Occasionally a departing yacht would stray beyond the channel and run aground in the mud, thereby suffering the embarrassment of making a VHF radio call for a tow. Chatting up one of these unfortunate captains, who'd returned to the marina following his rescue, Ken found out that such a mishap is more than just embarrassing, it's ridiculously expensive. Evidently, if a boat runs aground in Greece, the Port Police get involved, the boat must be dived on and its bottom inspected (which alone costs 400 Euros, or about $530.00 US), and the whole ordeal runs additional significant fees, a.k.a. "rip-offs". Ouch.
We passed the next 10 days at the dock in a series of boat projects: polishing, cleaning, waxing, sewing, washing, repairing, and provisioning with food, water, and diesel. We serviced the winches, replaced old lines, and climbed into the coffin-like (and incredibly uncomfortable) lazarettes to run coax for our AIS GPS antenna and for Ken to check the prop shaft alignment and to service the steering system. Ken also spent the better part of a morning at the Port Police, sorting out our paperwork and ponying up a painful number of Euros for confusing taxes and fees. Not only was it confusing for Ken, it was evidently just as confusing to the officials, as he'd be directed from one office to another, with the new office asking Ken what the other office wanted. (Katie asked Ken if he'd answered, "It's all Greek to me!", but, alas, he hadn't.) Back and forth he obediently trotted, until one helpful girl took pity on him and wrote something on a Post-It before sending Ken off again to the Office of Cluelessness.
As departure day approached, the weather took a dump, and our warm sunny days deteriorated into cold windy ones, with intermittent showers and thunderstorms. Finally,on Saturday, May 17, we woke to a perfect morning. So with full lockers (and empty pockets) we tossed off the dock-lines and motor-sailed down the three-mile Missalonghi Channel to the Gulf of Patras. After heading west and exiting the Gulf, we turned SD's bows north into the Ionian Sea, and eventually dropped anchor in a little bay behind Nisis Petalas (Island Petalas). We had the bay to ourselves, and the silence of the surrounding scrub-covered hills was broken only by the occasional cry of a sea-bird. We were back in cruising mode, and we celebrated "swizzle time" in the cockpit that evening to cap a glorious day.
The following morning, enjoying our coffee in the cockpit, we could hear the distant bells of goats on the nearby hills and eventually spied a small group with our binoculars. The beauty and serenity of this peaceful little bay moved us to stay another day, but tomorrow we'll weigh anchor and continue north to the fishing town of Astakos, whose name means "lobster".
Til next time, Cheers! K&K
This post is courtesy of the Ham Radio Winlink System www.winlink.org
Meanwhile, Katie, still on deck, high above the action, scurried fore and aft, lowering solar panels, hanging fenders, and rigging dock-lines. Despite her best attempts at speed, she was apparently working too "opa" for the crew, as heavily accented Greek voices began calling up, "Lady! Come down!". Ken, watching from the ground, remarked at this point that although a hurry-up approach was indeed desirable, treading lightly on deck was probably a good idea, as the arrangements below were looking none too stable. Hearing this, the lady was only too happy to come down, after which the boarding ladder was removed, and SD was trundled off to water's edge. There, amid a fresh chorus of "Opa! Opa!" from the workers, a crane gently lifted her from her cradle, and into the water she went. Easy peasy. Or, as Ken's friend Mike ("the Puck") says, "Dink, dink,.....and dink.".
We climbed aboard and motored off to an outer pontoon a comfy distance from the crowded marina docks. Ken had scoped out this scenic little spot on a reconnaissance walk, and in the spirit of "it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission", we simply enacted squatter's rights and tied up there. No one ever came to evict us from our berth, and we enjoyed our quiet private spot, with its nice view of the nearby meadow and the Missalonghi channel.
Occasionally a departing yacht would stray beyond the channel and run aground in the mud, thereby suffering the embarrassment of making a VHF radio call for a tow. Chatting up one of these unfortunate captains, who'd returned to the marina following his rescue, Ken found out that such a mishap is more than just embarrassing, it's ridiculously expensive. Evidently, if a boat runs aground in Greece, the Port Police get involved, the boat must be dived on and its bottom inspected (which alone costs 400 Euros, or about $530.00 US), and the whole ordeal runs additional significant fees, a.k.a. "rip-offs". Ouch.
We passed the next 10 days at the dock in a series of boat projects: polishing, cleaning, waxing, sewing, washing, repairing, and provisioning with food, water, and diesel. We serviced the winches, replaced old lines, and climbed into the coffin-like (and incredibly uncomfortable) lazarettes to run coax for our AIS GPS antenna and for Ken to check the prop shaft alignment and to service the steering system. Ken also spent the better part of a morning at the Port Police, sorting out our paperwork and ponying up a painful number of Euros for confusing taxes and fees. Not only was it confusing for Ken, it was evidently just as confusing to the officials, as he'd be directed from one office to another, with the new office asking Ken what the other office wanted. (Katie asked Ken if he'd answered, "It's all Greek to me!", but, alas, he hadn't.) Back and forth he obediently trotted, until one helpful girl took pity on him and wrote something on a Post-It before sending Ken off again to the Office of Cluelessness.
As departure day approached, the weather took a dump, and our warm sunny days deteriorated into cold windy ones, with intermittent showers and thunderstorms. Finally,on Saturday, May 17, we woke to a perfect morning. So with full lockers (and empty pockets) we tossed off the dock-lines and motor-sailed down the three-mile Missalonghi Channel to the Gulf of Patras. After heading west and exiting the Gulf, we turned SD's bows north into the Ionian Sea, and eventually dropped anchor in a little bay behind Nisis Petalas (Island Petalas). We had the bay to ourselves, and the silence of the surrounding scrub-covered hills was broken only by the occasional cry of a sea-bird. We were back in cruising mode, and we celebrated "swizzle time" in the cockpit that evening to cap a glorious day.
The following morning, enjoying our coffee in the cockpit, we could hear the distant bells of goats on the nearby hills and eventually spied a small group with our binoculars. The beauty and serenity of this peaceful little bay moved us to stay another day, but tomorrow we'll weigh anchor and continue north to the fishing town of Astakos, whose name means "lobster".
Til next time, Cheers! K&K
This post is courtesy of the Ham Radio Winlink System www.winlink.org
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Back in the Saddle… again
We made the most of our time in America, spending time with friends and family, enjoying all the holidays, and taking lots of motorcycle rides, including excellent road trips to Key West and to Florida's Panhandle. Finally, after seven wonderful months in our homeland, we boarded a plane to return to our little ship on the night of April 30, 2014.
The journey began with a drive to Orlando Airport in a gully-washer of a rainstorm, with severe weather alerts that resulted in the delay of multiple flights, ours included. The additional several hours spent in the airport turned out to be a blessing in disguise, since by the time we arrived in Frankfurt we'd missed our connection to Athens. Lemons became lemonade, as we were given meal vouchers by the Lufthansa staff, and our trip was now divided into more comfortable segments with a later flight to Athens. (Instead of 12 hours in Athens airport, we'd only need to hang out for five.)
We landed in Athens at 0100, had a few naps and some wonderful coffee, boarded a bus at 0600 to the city center, and from there caught one more bus for the three-hour ride to Messolonghi and our marina.
We felt grungy and jet-lagged, but were thrilled to see our Sand Dollar perched high atop her jackstands “on the hard”, having apparently behaved herself during our absence. (The dinghy, however, must have gotten a little frisky one windy day, as she'd been been blown to one side of the foredeck, despite having been tied and tethered.) Ken wasted no time in snatching a nearby ladder to prop against SD's hull, and we were quickly back aboard, anxious to see how the cabin had fared. We were delighted to see that she looked exactly as we'd left her, which was a nice surprise after past years, when we'd left her in the tropics and returned to musty smells and moldy surfaces.
With hose and brushes and soapy water we cleaned her decks, and rousted out the handful of spiders who'd taken up residence in the rigging. I took care of the spiders, as Ken maintains that they aren't bothering anybody. Wrong. They were bothering me. He has no clue how to kill one, as when it plays possum he believes that it's dead. I, on the other hand, am on to their tricks, and prefer to bang
them with the back a long-handled brush until they are dismembered.
We've been tackling a few boat projects each day, and hope to have SD “splashed” by next week. We should be able to get underway in 10 days or so, by which time the weather will hopefully have warmed up a little. There's still a bit of chill here, as late spring segues into early summer. Days are warm, but at night we definitely need to sleep under our blankies.
But we are happy to report that all is well. Days are sunny for the most part, the little marina shop has good wine, cold beer, and delicious fresh bread and Greek yogurt, and the showers have lots of hot water. Ken is doing his part to support the local economy, as by the time we'd been back for three hours, he'd already checked out the marina chandlery and bought us a brand-new anchor. Little by little, we're all getting back into cruising mode, so our next post will be from “somewhere out there”!
To see where we are, click on the “YOTREPS” gadget.
To read about our early years, go to: www.tripsailor.com/kstuber
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