We've not been blogging nearly a fortnight due to having little or no Internet connectivity. There's been plenty of adventure, which we'll summarise over the next few entries. As usual, more photographs can be found under "Voyage Pictures" on your right.
We rounded the bottom of the Mani peninsula on Thursday 21st. There were light winds in the morning, "on the nose", and we had to travel quite a distance, so we motored most of the way. The wind picked up and backed to an Easterly as we passed Cape Grosso, allowing us to sail. We could see a lot of white water at the corner (Tainaro Point), and reaching it, we found this was mainly due to a large swell.
The remaining three miles into Porto Kayio was pretty rolly, and when we finally turned left and shot downhill towards the narrow entrance to the bay, I was praying that the shelter was as good as Rod Heikell (the author of the local pilot guides, and minor deity of Mediterranean cruising) claimed. We spent a comfortable night in the north cove, along with a small German yacht. There was a slight swell - of the type that Rod invariably refers to as "More uncomfortable than dangerous". That phrase rang in my ears for the next week.
Porto Kayio bay is stunning, with rugged scenery and sturdy Manoite forts and monasteries. We quite happily decided to take a lay day, and spent the next afternoon drunk in the south of the bay.
On Saturday we drifted up to Yithion, and stayed there through the Easter weekend. We were the only voyaging yacht there, and tried to squeeze Grace in amongst the local boats. The first attempt was aborted due to a line across the space we hadn't seen. Unfortunately, it wasn't without cost and I fished up a heavy Fisherman's anchor with our lightweight Fortress. We were then helped onto a lazy line by some locals, and a couple of ours later the "owner" of the spot turned up and wanted to use it, so we moved again. I wasn't going to disturb the peace by pointing out that it was a public quay. With a little creativity, we made our own space and spent the night bows-to, and I went to the Port Police to do the paper work. On Sunday, a different Port Police shift turned up and asked that we move the boat because it was "a danger to the one next to it". I couldn't see this myself - the vessel in question was an abandoned Spanish-flagged yacht, with a gaping hole in the side which had been used to bring in "Illegals"
and been impounded. Anyway, in the interests of the peace, we filled up with water moved again - safely tucked up alongside the quay where we perhaps should have been from the start.
To Greeks, Easter is their principal annual festival. The main thing I recall about the celebrations is the noise. Young men are given free rain to set off fire crackers whenever and wherever they like. There was a candlelight procession, and chanted prayer, and on the Sunday there was plenty of evidence of family meals, with the patriarch invariably cooking lamb on a spit. To us, it meant that none of the useful shops were open. What's Greek for "Bah, Humbug"?
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