Paxos fisherman cleaning his nets
We departed Preveza on the first of July, motor-sailing in an annoying six-foot swell, which thankfully petered out to a light chop in the afternoon. We anchored 28 miles later in peaceful, undeveloped Ioannis Bay, and left the next morning for another short motor-sail, 15 miles west to the island of Paxos.
Paxos (aka Paxi) is a jewel of an island, with turquoise waters, lush green countryside, quaint villages, and outstanding beaches. Added to this is the traditional Greek hospitality, making it quite the popular vacation destination. We entered at the harbor town of Gaios, where the ferries and yachts squeeze past each other in the narrow channel, and the quay is crowded with dozens of boats. We chose to anchor at a quiet spot near the entrance, but the bottom proved to have very poor holding, so we moved a mile south to tiny Mongonissi Bay. With just a single taverna and one small beach bar, the main attraction is the little white sand beach where bathers can cool off in the clear emerald-green water. There are no shops here; just terraced olive groves, bordered by low stone walls, on the hills above the taverna. Paxos is famous for its olive oil, and there are trees on the island that are a thousand years old.
The beautiful Paxos Olive oil is stored in big vats: we treated ourselves to a bottle of this famous local product.
A couple of days after our arrival we met Will, the young skipper of a small flotilla of charter yachts that had tied to the quay. We chatted for an hour, sitting in the shade of an olive tree near a collection of anchors and assorted ground tackle available for borrowing, while a local fisherman arrived in his boat and unloaded a big swordfish and an 80-pound headless yellowfin tuna, which disappeared into the taverna’s kitchen, destined for the grill that evening.
Gale-force winds were forecast for the day, and were certainly honking by the time we rowed back to SD. Ken happened to be sitting on our bow when he noticed that a neighboring yacht, with no crew aboard, was dragging anchor, the gusty 40-knot winds pushing her closer and closer to the rocky bottom of the nearby shallows. He hopped into our motor-less dinghy and rowed like hell toward the pile of loaner anchors ashore, where he snatched up an anchor with its chain and rope, and headed back to the runaway.
On the way, he encountered Will, who joined the rescue effort in his big inflatable. Crew from another yacht had boarded the dragging boat, and as Ken passed the anchor line up to that guy, Will used his dinghy as a tugboat to push the yacht out of harm’s way. Ken rowed the kedge anchor out and dropped it, the guy on board the yacht hauled the slack out of the line, and all was finally secure. Outstanding teamwork in those Force 8 winds!
Will’s dinghy doubles as a tugboat.
All hands pitch in to save the day!
That evening for dinner we joined Will and his merry group of about 20 people: children, teens, and adults, all from the UK, making for easy conversation. Our fresh fish was first-class, and at meal’s end the Greek dancing began on the covered flagstone patio.
Will and Katie – Cheers!
Will’s co-skipper, Sally, at the head of the table.
The succulent grilled tuna on my plate was swimming in the Ionian Sea earlier that same day!
Having retired his old sunglasses to his shirt front, Ken is stylin’ in some high-fashion eyewear!
A young Greek couple danced several graceful traditional Greek dances, followed by an energetic young man whirling and leaping his way through the flames of ignited alcohol which the staff splashed on the flagstones. Once the flames had subsided (the taverna is probably not insured for combustion of the clientele), the original dancers and the taverna staff began urging the diners up onto the floor to join in. A few reluctant guests (read: Ken) had to be actually bullied into dancing, but pretty soon everyone was involved, holding hands and snaking around the columns of the patio, our steps fast and furious. We’ll remember this evening as one of our very favorites of our cruising years.
The gale blew itself out after a couple of days, and we put the outboard on the dinghy and motored a mile back up the coast to Gaios for a little shopping, a little sight-seeing, and a final souvlaki before we leave Greece in our wake.
Approaching Gaios’ waterfront in our dinghy.
The town square at Gaios, and the church of the Agioi Apostoli. (means something like “Blessed Apostles”)
Beautiful detailed iconostasis (icon screen), candelabra, and hanging censers (incense burners) in the church.
We met a friend who asked (begged) to share our souvlaki. She also liked the French fries.
Mongonissi has been the perfect final chapter to our Greek cruising odyssey, as it embodies all that we’ve loved about Greece: the smiling, generous, outgoing people, the stunning and varied landscapes, the clear emerald and azure waters, and, oh yeah……the food! We made lots of new friends, visited colorful towns and villages, and had some excellent sailing, even though we got our butts kicked by the meltemi wind in the Aegean. The song says it well: We had the time of our lives!
K&K
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