the Dodecanese to Turkey
6th - 18th August Kos, Simi and into Turkey at Datca
It has been quite a spell since the last rant, a lot has happened as many of you know. We start this rant in Kos, Greece where we set off in good sailing conditions, especially just off the point when we thought we might even have to put less sail up, and just after the point it died and we had to, eventually, get the engine going to help progress. We rounded a point which belonged to Turkey, but we were still headed to Simi in Greece. Simi was a beautiful little harbor, chaotic, but beautiful. It was windy with a strong crosswind, and hard to put much chain out, because in this fairly narrow harbor boats were anchoring on both sides. Plenty of scope for crossed anchor mayhem. We went for a walk up to the chora first thing in the morning, a dear little walking village with a big church, with a wonderful view of the harbor full of boats and yachts below. I was able to video skype sister Rachael who was sitting with my mother who was not so well at the time, so that is a moment I will treasure for ever. When we got back down most of the boats around us had departed, so we also checked out of Greece with the Port Police without incident, and went our 11 miles to Datca, in Turkey where checking in was a very simple process, it is compulsory to use an agent, and we used a very nice agent, all done for us for a fee gladly paid. 2 hours later we returned to retrieve our passports and new cruising log, easy. Our first impressions of Turkey in this town were very favorable. They seem to be so friendly, and very efficient, and the town was very tidy. It blew very hard here, which must be normal, as it is well known for its water sports like windsurfing, and the hill is plastered with wind machines.
We then had a small journey to Kurubuku, swing anchoring. It was a big bay, lined with trees, and very still, and had quite a number of boats around us. I was due to skype Rachael from here, but when the phone rang at 6am, (not a text to tell me to skype now) I knew the news wasn’t going to be good, and indeed as I climbed up the companionway, I received the sad news that my mother had slipped away peacefully in the afternoon back home, in her own bed and without pain. So whilst I was happy for her, turning 89 in a month’s time, and not having a long illness and just quietly wearing out, it is quite a final moment, and from the other side of the world it feels a long way away. We discussed my returning home, and my sisters were encouraging me to do so, and I really felt I needed a little time with family to help me also, so plans were made where to leave Joe and Wrighteau.
We discovered the most beautiful deep and cozy bay near Marti Marine where we had our last night at anchor and then moved into Marti Marina, which is a most picturesque spot, lots of Cyprus type trees, come pines, cicadas, pool and pool bar/restaurant. It looked ideal, but for a week perhaps a little more to bear. I set off on my big journey, from getting into the taxi to Sarah collecting me in Wellington I was 48 hrs. It was wonderful to see her at the other end and catch up with Rachael and the cousins and friends. All and all we gave Margie a wonderful funeral, celebrating her life to the full, and then for the long trip home, which had a touch and go start as the big winter blizzard hit. It is a long way to go for a funeral, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
So back to poor old Joe who had suffered his boredom and loneliness in my absence. In the morning we dropped the mooring lines and set off to the most idyllic island in the gulf of Bozburun, where the water, as often is, was turquoise, and transparent, we could clearly see from our dinghy that an anchor was just holding on by a sniff. It was so beautiful we stayed 2 nights.
The next bay, only 10 or so miles away, Buzubuku, was a bigger bay, we chose the middle restaurants buoys, and after a walk on land, it was unbelievable that a Dutch yacht anchored right beside us, we being on a buoy didn’t have the swinging room we needed to keep out of their way, so this was a most unsatisfactory situation. When we returned from our meal it became untenable, the wind was strong, and we tried to get their attention by any which way, hollering, whistling, the only thing in the end to work was the spot light fixed on their windows. There were words of course, all they had to do, and did do after a lot of puff and whistle, was let more chain out to stop a certain collision. That was out of character for here, people seem to be polite and responsible in large. We also enjoyed two nights here, and on the second night we listened to the All Blacks game against Sth Africa which was disastrous, and completely dampened our appetite, so we ate on board with a touch of glumness.
That brings us to the present very enclosed bay, whose name escapes me, where the restaurant owner came to attach us to his buoy and tie our stern to the rocks, very organized and helpful, followed quickly by a rather handicapped character paddling his wooden boat selling figs and almonds, and on his heels, a carpet seller who was extremely tricky to shake off. It is 35 degrees, so feeling the heat today. The Turkish people are very friendly and helpful, we are enjoying Turkey a lot.
So there it is for this rant, much sadness, also happiness. We flew the flag at half mast until after the funeral, and it is again at half mast as we sadly farewell an old cricketing friend of ours, Rod Wealleans. And next week it will be at half mast again for Debs my old friend a year after her grizzly demise, (and that of her father) at the hands of her husband. A very confused flag.
Until next time Bye all
It has been quite a spell since the last rant, a lot has happened as many of you know. We start this rant in Kos, where we set off in good sailing conditions, especially just off the point when we thought we might even have to put less sail up, and just after the point it died and we had to, eventually, get the engine going to help progress. We rounded a point which belonged to Turkey, but we were still headed to Simi in Greece. Simi was a beautiful little harbor, chaotic, but beautiful. It was windy with a strong crosswind, and hard to put much chain out, because in this fairly narrow harbor boats were anchoring on both sides. Plenty of scope for crossed anchor mayhem. We went for a walk up to the chora first thing in the morning, a dear little walking village with a big church, with a wonderful view of the harbor full of boats and yachts below. I was able to video skype sister who was sitting with my mother who was not so well at the time, so that is a moment I will treasure. When we got back down most of the boats around us had departed, so we also checked out of Greece with the Port Police without incident, and went our 11 miles to Datca, in Turkey where checking in was a very simple process, it is compulsory to use an agent, and we used a very nice agent, all done for us for a fee gladly paid. 2 hours later we returned to retrieve our passports and new cruising log, easy. Our first impressions of Turkey in this town were very favorable. They seem to be so friendly, and very efficient, and the town was very tidy. It blew very hard here, which must be normal, as it is well known for its water sports like windsurfing, and the hill is plastered with wind machines.
We then had a small journey to Kurubuku, swing anchoring. It was a big bay, lined with trees, and very still, and had quite a number of boats around us. I was due to skype Rachael from here, but when the phone rang at 6am, (not a text to tell me to skype now) I knew the news wasn’t going to be good, and indeed as I climbed up the companionway, I received the sad news that my mother had slipped away peacefully in the afternoon back home, in her own bed and without pain. So whilst I was happy for her, turning 89 in a month’s time, and not having a long illness and just quietly wearing out, it is quite a final moment, and from the other side of the world it feels a long way away. We discussed my returning home, and my sisters were encouraging me to do so, and I really felt I needed a little time with family to help me also, so plans were made where to leave Joe and Wrighteau.
We discovered the most beautiful deep and cozy bay near Marti Marine where we had our last night at anchor and then moved into Marti Marina, which is a most picturesque spot, lots of Cyprus type trees, come pines, cicadas, pool and pool bar/restaurant. It looked ideal, but for a week perhaps a little more to bear. I set off on my big journey, from getting into the taxi to Sarah collecting me in Wellington I was 48 hrs. It was wonderful to see her at the other end and catch up with Rachael and the cousins and friends. All and all we gave Margie a wonderful funeral, celebrating her life to the full, and then for the long trip home, which had a touch and go start as the big winter blizzard hit. It is a long way to go for a funeral, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
So back to poor old Joe who had suffered his boredom and loneliness in my absence. In the morning we dropped the mooring lines and set off to the most idyllic island in the gulf of Bozburun, where the water, as often is, was turquoise, and transparent, we could clearly see from our dinghy that an anchor was just holding on by a sniff. It was so beautiful we stayed 2 nights.
The next bay, only 10 or so miles away, Buzubuku, was a bigger bay, we chose the middle restaurants buoys, and after a walk on land, it was unbelievable that a Dutch yacht anchored right beside us, we being on a buoy didn’t have the swinging room they needed, so this was a most unsatisfactory situation. When we returned from our meal it became untenable, the wind was strong, and we tried to get their attention by any which way, hollering, whistling, the only thing in the end to work was the spot light fixed on their windows. There were words of course, all they had to do, and did do after a lot of puff and whistle, was let more chain out to stop a certain collision. That was out of character for here, people seem to be polite and responsible in large.
That brings us to the present very enclosed bay, whose name escapes me, where the restaurant owner came to attach us to his buoy and tie our stern to the rocks, very organized and helpful, followed quickly by a rather handicapped character paddling his wooden boat selling figs and almonds, and on his heels, a carpet seller who was extremely tricky to shake off. It is 35 degrees, so feeling the heat today.
So there it is for this rant, much sadness, also happiness. We flew the flag at half mast until after the funeral, and it is again at half mast as we sadly farewell an old cricketing friend of ours, Rod Wealleans. And next week it will be at half mast again for Debs my old friend a year after her grizzly demise, (and that of her father) at the hands of her husband. A very confused flag.
We then had a small journey to Kurubuku, swing anchoring. It was a big bay, lined with trees, and very still, and had quite a number of boats around us. I was due to skype Rachael from here, but when the phone rang at 6am, (not a text to tell me to skype now) I knew the news wasn’t going to be good, and indeed as I climbed up the companionway, I received the sad news that my mother had slipped away peacefully in the afternoon back home, in her own bed and without pain. So whilst I was happy for her, turning 89 in a month’s time, and not having a long illness and just quietly wearing out, it is quite a final moment, and from the other side of the world it feels a long way away. We discussed my returning home, and my sisters were encouraging me to do so, and I really felt I needed a little time with family to help me also, so plans were made where to leave Joe and Wrighteau.
We discovered the most beautiful deep and cozy bay near Marti Marine where we had our last night at anchor and then moved into Marti Marina, which is a most picturesque spot, lots of Cyprus type trees, come pines, cicadas, pool and pool bar/restaurant. It looked ideal, but for a week perhaps a little more to bear. I set off on my big journey, from getting into the taxi to Sarah collecting me in Wellington I was 48 hrs. It was wonderful to see her at the other end and catch up with Rachael and the cousins and friends. All and all we gave Margie a wonderful funeral, celebrating her life to the full, and then for the long trip home, which had a touch and go start as the big winter blizzard hit. It is a long way to go for a funeral, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
So back to poor old Joe who had suffered his boredom and loneliness in my absence. In the morning we dropped the mooring lines and set off to the most idyllic island in the gulf of Bozburun, where the water, as often is, was turquoise, and transparent, we could clearly see from our dinghy that an anchor was just holding on by a sniff. It was so beautiful we stayed 2 nights.
The next bay, only 10 or so miles away, Buzubuku, was a bigger bay, we chose the middle restaurants buoys, and after a walk on land, it was unbelievable that a Dutch yacht anchored right beside us, we being on a buoy didn’t have the swinging room we needed to keep out of their way, so this was a most unsatisfactory situation. When we returned from our meal it became untenable, the wind was strong, and we tried to get their attention by any which way, hollering, whistling, the only thing in the end to work was the spot light fixed on their windows. There were words of course, all they had to do, and did do after a lot of puff and whistle, was let more chain out to stop a certain collision. That was out of character for here, people seem to be polite and responsible in large. We also enjoyed two nights here, and on the second night we listened to the All Blacks game against Sth Africa which was disastrous, and completely dampened our appetite, so we ate on board with a touch of glumness.
That brings us to the present very enclosed bay, whose name escapes me, where the restaurant owner came to attach us to his buoy and tie our stern to the rocks, very organized and helpful, followed quickly by a rather handicapped character paddling his wooden boat selling figs and almonds, and on his heels, a carpet seller who was extremely tricky to shake off. It is 35 degrees, so feeling the heat today. The Turkish people are very friendly and helpful, we are enjoying Turkey a lot.
So there it is for this rant, much sadness, also happiness. We flew the flag at half mast until after the funeral, and it is again at half mast as we sadly farewell an old cricketing friend of ours, Rod Wealleans. And next week it will be at half mast again for Debs my old friend a year after her grizzly demise, (and that of her father) at the hands of her husband. A very confused flag.
Until next time Bye all
It has been quite a spell since the last rant, a lot has happened as many of you know. We start this rant in Kos, where we set off in good sailing conditions, especially just off the point when we thought we might even have to put less sail up, and just after the point it died and we had to, eventually, get the engine going to help progress. We rounded a point which belonged to Turkey, but we were still headed to Simi in Greece. Simi was a beautiful little harbor, chaotic, but beautiful. It was windy with a strong crosswind, and hard to put much chain out, because in this fairly narrow harbor boats were anchoring on both sides. Plenty of scope for crossed anchor mayhem. We went for a walk up to the chora first thing in the morning, a dear little walking village with a big church, with a wonderful view of the harbor full of boats and yachts below. I was able to video skype sister who was sitting with my mother who was not so well at the time, so that is a moment I will treasure. When we got back down most of the boats around us had departed, so we also checked out of Greece with the Port Police without incident, and went our 11 miles to Datca, in Turkey where checking in was a very simple process, it is compulsory to use an agent, and we used a very nice agent, all done for us for a fee gladly paid. 2 hours later we returned to retrieve our passports and new cruising log, easy. Our first impressions of Turkey in this town were very favorable. They seem to be so friendly, and very efficient, and the town was very tidy. It blew very hard here, which must be normal, as it is well known for its water sports like windsurfing, and the hill is plastered with wind machines.
We then had a small journey to Kurubuku, swing anchoring. It was a big bay, lined with trees, and very still, and had quite a number of boats around us. I was due to skype Rachael from here, but when the phone rang at 6am, (not a text to tell me to skype now) I knew the news wasn’t going to be good, and indeed as I climbed up the companionway, I received the sad news that my mother had slipped away peacefully in the afternoon back home, in her own bed and without pain. So whilst I was happy for her, turning 89 in a month’s time, and not having a long illness and just quietly wearing out, it is quite a final moment, and from the other side of the world it feels a long way away. We discussed my returning home, and my sisters were encouraging me to do so, and I really felt I needed a little time with family to help me also, so plans were made where to leave Joe and Wrighteau.
We discovered the most beautiful deep and cozy bay near Marti Marine where we had our last night at anchor and then moved into Marti Marina, which is a most picturesque spot, lots of Cyprus type trees, come pines, cicadas, pool and pool bar/restaurant. It looked ideal, but for a week perhaps a little more to bear. I set off on my big journey, from getting into the taxi to Sarah collecting me in Wellington I was 48 hrs. It was wonderful to see her at the other end and catch up with Rachael and the cousins and friends. All and all we gave Margie a wonderful funeral, celebrating her life to the full, and then for the long trip home, which had a touch and go start as the big winter blizzard hit. It is a long way to go for a funeral, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
So back to poor old Joe who had suffered his boredom and loneliness in my absence. In the morning we dropped the mooring lines and set off to the most idyllic island in the gulf of Bozburun, where the water, as often is, was turquoise, and transparent, we could clearly see from our dinghy that an anchor was just holding on by a sniff. It was so beautiful we stayed 2 nights.
The next bay, only 10 or so miles away, Buzubuku, was a bigger bay, we chose the middle restaurants buoys, and after a walk on land, it was unbelievable that a Dutch yacht anchored right beside us, we being on a buoy didn’t have the swinging room they needed, so this was a most unsatisfactory situation. When we returned from our meal it became untenable, the wind was strong, and we tried to get their attention by any which way, hollering, whistling, the only thing in the end to work was the spot light fixed on their windows. There were words of course, all they had to do, and did do after a lot of puff and whistle, was let more chain out to stop a certain collision. That was out of character for here, people seem to be polite and responsible in large.
That brings us to the present very enclosed bay, whose name escapes me, where the restaurant owner came to attach us to his buoy and tie our stern to the rocks, very organized and helpful, followed quickly by a rather handicapped character paddling his wooden boat selling figs and almonds, and on his heels, a carpet seller who was extremely tricky to shake off. It is 35 degrees, so feeling the heat today.
So there it is for this rant, much sadness, also happiness. We flew the flag at half mast until after the funeral, and it is again at half mast as we sadly farewell an old cricketing friend of ours, Rod Wealleans. And next week it will be at half mast again for Debs my old friend a year after her grizzly demise, (and that of her father) at the hands of her husband. A very confused flag.
