deepblueyonder

Race Crew - Antigua January 2012

2012-02-01T08:13:00.000-08:00

Sailing is a passion … and here in Antigua I have racecrewed on a variety of yachts. Single-hander dinghy Laser, 34 foot racer /cruiser Seal, 34 foot racing yacht High Tension and 141 foot Spirit ofTradition Superyacht “This is Us”. A good cross-section of yachts then. A cross-section of crew and skippers too!

Two weekends ago was the Round-the-Island race. Last year Isailed a very eventful race on Seal with William Allen. Unfortunately we onlygot a ¼ way round due to having to help a yacht in distress. This year it waseventful for a different reason.

Seal wasn’t racing so I needed to find another boat to sailon. At the briefing Chinese Bernie (adentist on the island) needed a crew for High Tension and, as I was the onlyvolunteer, I was on. I am ashamed to say I have no idea of hermake, except she is a racing 34foot yacht with a CSA rating of 0.934. She was last years winnerso we were defending her place. We were a very international crew. Rasta manfrom Antigua, Michael from Trinidad, JoeCanadian, Matthew French, Colin white American father and black Antiguan mother… just see the picture.

It was a very exciting race at times. Two ripped sails (sotwo sail changes), the main pulley lostits nuts and pulled out of the deck and lost us 20 minutes, squalls with coldrain, burning sunshine, high seas with water breaking over us all, FrenchmanMatthew and I took over foredeck (no one else seemed to be up for it ..and tobe honest I am too old for foredeck) while Bernie would not relinquish most ofthe other jobs – including fishing with two catches en-route. At one point hewas steering, doing mainsheet AND sorting his fishline at the same time andwould not accept help!! On the rail we chatted and argued about race, colour,religion, fishing, food …. One day Iwill try to write it all down but it was a fun day! We came 9^th –which, given the conditions and events on board, wasn’t bad!

This weekend Andy and I have been race crew on “This is Us”for the Superyacht Challenge in Antigua. We are very privileged to be invitedback as race crew by the owner every regatta but this time I really felt Iearned my race stripes. They are black and blue and they are all over my body!

We raced over four days – day 1 practice with the new bigBIG spinnaker and new big main stay sail. Over the next 3 days we raced fourraces. The 13 yachts (the smallest 80 feet – up to Adele coming in at 180 feet)start in pursuit fashion with the aim of a spectacular finish with all crossingthe line at more or less the same time. They achieved this result and we hadsome photo finishes!

Andy and I do Port and Starboard front runner winch andrelease of back runner preventer. The forces on all halyards and sheets areenormous on these Superyachts and “This Is Us” (http://www.charterworld.com/index.html?sub=yacht-charter&charter=sailing-schooner-skylge-1060)coming in at 141 feet is no exception.

Saturday – race 2 (1^st race on Saturday) we wereshort-handed on the foredeck so I found myself on staysail halyard and big-spinnakerbucket-line as well. Andy was on foredeck helping with the grunt stuff. Bigspinnaker up – bloody fast broad reach 15 knots or so - buoy close – Bucket down. I was told to feed the line from thewinch (being worked by T) back to the bucket. Not hard. Shout from foredeck,need help with last bit of spinnaker not going in bucket. T leaves stationtaking bucket line off winch… bucket starts to scream up the spinnaker… linewhips around me and takes me along the deck with it – I bump into every winchand cleat on way towards the mast . …. S….t I am going to go up the mast “HELPME!!!”. Many hands untangle me, I scrabble out of the way and lick my wounds.Feeling sick, faint … no time, “TACKING”, “RUNNERS!!”

As I say .. I earned my stripes. Apparently a photographerhas it all on camera and she was surprised I did not end up in hospital. I wasvery very lucky. Dan lost the tip of his finger and two guys broke their legs. Bruisesare expected but mine are spectacular and extensive – see the pictures.

Despite my bruises and subsequent stiffness it was abrilliant weekend and the crew on This is Us are fantastic. I have learnt mylesson and will ensure that I could not possibly get myself in that positionagain – I was sitting in the wrong place. The owner is always concerned aboutour safety as number 1 priority, boat number 2 and he is always noticing me dostuff and forever asking me if I am safe. Fortunately he did not see this incident!

I have had another exciting adventure which I cannot say toomuch about but involves Pete “Who??” Townshend, a phone call (from him - he hasmy number!), a 2 hour meeting and akiss!!

So our rock and roll life continues!!

Crete with Richard and Pippa, Tilos and back to Turkey

2011-08-31T09:57:00.000-07:00

Warning - the following picture may be distressing!

Still the Summer meltemi wind trapped us. Shocking though it seems, B’s practical solution to preserving hair and makeup for the wavey trip ashore for our full moon party night at Ak Zakros still at the eastern extremity of Crete – at last the wind died enough to sail the next day!...

... after one night in Sitia to replenish our now almost empty water tanks, we arrived at Agios Nikolaos, still in the east of Crete. ‘Ag Nik’ is mainly renowned for its ‘bottomless’, but picturesque small lake in the middle of town – actually a volcanic crater 67m deep. The town is OK but quite full of tourists.

A Banksie lookalike graffiti artist appears on the walls of Ag Nik.

We parked Deep Blue for 6 nights in Ag Nik marina and took a bus to the capital, Heraklion (to be avoided mostly) where we were met by our dear cruising friends, Pippy and Richard from NZ.

We did the obligatory visit to the largest Minoan settlement of Knossos. The 19^th Century archaeologist, Sir Arthur Evans rather over restored (with liberal use of concrete) the excavated remains of this grand palace surrounded by a town of maybe 12,000. Purported to be the home of King Minos, keeper of the legendary Minatour in the labyrinthan palace.

Sir Arthur thus gave the name ‘Minoan’ to this most ancient of Mediterranean, highly developed people. We’ll never know what they knew themselves as!

It was great to be guests on P&R’s 42’ Beneteau Matelot in the marina at Rethymno – Richard has a good singing voice, is known to break into song and turns out to be OK at the Ukele too – is there no end to this man’s talent?!

Day 2 touring together we visited the lovely town of Hania, the capital before modern Heraklion.

The mix of Venetian (‘Venice of the East’) ...

...and Turkish influences are preserved most attractively in the narrow streets around the old port and Venetian fortifications.

We then headed to the extreme west to Falassarna – a fabulous beach with crystal clear water where you can see the whole island has been tipped up about 6.6m from the old tide line.

Even more interestingly is the site at the top of the bay where a large, fortified, Minoan settlement is being excavated; at its peak between 4^th and 1^st centuries BC it was “...destroyed by the Romans, most probably because it turned to piracy and its harbour went out of use. Destroyed finally by the earthquake of 365AD, which raised the land, simultaneously sinking (we suppose) the ancient port at Ak. Zakros in the East where we had first landed.

A 3500 year old mooring? Amazing to stand of the ancient quay and see the mooring holes cut from stone... imagining the ancient mariners lined up in port.

Next day we drove to the south and took a ferry to the start of the huge Samaria Gorge to hike up it.

The ‘Iron Gates’ are only 3m wide, but the gorge towers 300m overhead.

The scale (and the heat) were awesome! We saw the unqiue, indigiinous ‘Kri Kri’ goat in the gorge.

Back in Rethymno with R&P for a simple dinner out together, we found a vast migratory flock of swallows resting for the night overhead.

Sad to say goodby to Pippa and Richard, back on Deep Blue we left Ag Nik for the short motor up to Spinalonga Island and lagoon.

The vastly strong Venetian fort was modified over the centuries as warfare evolved...

...from bow and arrow, to cannon

From 1903 the island was turned into a leper colony where lepers, who are also people lived, fell in love, got married, had lives and of course died (this is the cemetery), though we learnt the treatment of this horrific disease improved greatly over the decades.

This chap (note the hands, in 1961) Epaminondas Remoundakis was only 21 when banished to the colony, where he fought passionately for better living conditions for lepers until the colony closed in 1957. The Island remains uninhabited.

Man! It is windy here though!! So I had planned to go windsurfing for several days – sadly my mast snapped in two within minutes of this shot; osmosis from lying on the deck and in the sun too long!

The light on these magnificent mountains viewed down the lagoon to a narrow entrance was superb every evening. We understand why this place has become a favourite for the stars these days.

Dieter, the 67 year old inflatable canoeist – “Crazy, but not stupid!” he proudly proclaimed. Such a lovely man and so interesting! Not a Luddite, but just "homo sapiens, not homo digitalis!" (no e-mail address).

Time to leave Crete. After an overnight passage NE and 115nm, we arrived at small Greek Island of Tilos; Livadhia, the main port...

... is incredibly busy!

The birdlife of the island is protected and we saw a good amount – here is a Mediterranean Shag.

Our 3 hours walk in the heat took us to the town of Mikro Chorio, abandoned just after WW2 – several of these olive presses remain among the ruins. Would you want to live in a house here?...

...or run a night club here? Bit of a 'horror movie set'

Sooo, we just had to take a look!

At the port earlier, we had witnessed a ‘cultural event’ which largely comprised some quite nice costumes and the slowest dancing I think I have ever seen.

However, the whole town seemed to be enjoying the event, of all ages and sizes. A real thriving community with recently established schools on the island. Great!

Next day, Sunday, we took the vertiginous bus trip up to the splendid monastery of St.Pandeleimon on the west coast; actually what we had come to Tilos for! (Nisiros at distant left) Some debate about when first established, but probably 15^th century (by Jonas?).

Though clearly well built and well tended with a dozen monks cells...

... only the abbot remains here – the small church is full of artwork and fine murals from the centuries.

The abbot was very friendly and welcoming, asking for no money; though we paid for and lit a candle each for friends who have lost children.

The best water on the island is up here

– the monastery could not have ever been viable without this sweet water.

Back to the megayacht Deep Blue, with a smaller, Russian one just behind (joke!). We prepare to leave to return to ‘home’ in Turkey...

And here we are - our last morning at anchor, in Gerbekse Cove near Marmaris, for how long? Not sure!

A small shoal of cuttlefish were intrigued by our anchor...

As we weighed for the last time, their large eyes observed me curiously - "when are you coming back?"

Watch this space!

Tilos Rocks and so does Crete!

2011-08-28T11:54:00.000-07:00

28-August 2011
We have found all the yachts! They are on the tiny speck of an island called Tilos – near the Turkish mainland between Cos and Rhodes. What a fab place this is and not surprisingly the Superyachts have discovered Tilos too.

Clear sea water to swim in, beautiful coves, beaches, drinking water on the island, a mayor who has spent his EC money wisely, and a friendly hard working population of 500. A viable island now we have been told, because there are new schools all the way to 18yrs so the young families do not leave. A serene monastery with one monk, the abandoned village of Mikro Horio with one occupied house – a night club and, best of all, the island is a specially protected area under the European Birds directive which means the Greeks ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SHOOT! Hurrah! Greek men do not feel macho unless they are shooting small birds so this is a big achievement. And you can tell – you see and hear birds on this island when walking the wonderful ancient footpaths – a novelty in Greece.

We arrived here from Crete two nights ago after a two week stay and loved it too. The people were lovely even though the tourist trade seems fairly healthy there – their attitude differs from Rhodes. After a wonderful time on the East end of Crete in a garden of paradise where we ate at the same restaurant every day, the food grown and cooked by an extended family was so good and so good value for money we could not resist. A first for us in all our travels. By the time we were able to leave (the Meltemi kept us pinned down) we had run out of food, water and clean clothes. There was no possibility of getting any in Kato Zakros as there were no shops and we had to ride the tender ashore in our swim wear with our clothes wrapped in waterproof bags due to the sea state and wind. One night it was full moon and there was a beach party. I wanted my hair and makeup to look OK so I put a plastic bag over it all to stay dry! Well it worked and it gave the fishermen anchored near us something to look at – they must have wondered what those mad British would get up to next.

Eventually we made it to Sitia Port which we thought would be OK from the pilot but when we arrived the whole EC funded harbour was full of silly little pleasure boats (apparently none pay) so the visiting yachts had nowhere to go and no chance of accessing the power and water points the EC had funded to attract yachts. The concrete laid in Sitia has to be seen to be believed – a huge and expensive port project next to the harbour with only a rusting dredger tied up and walls too high for a yacht. So despite protests from Frenchy who seemed to be a permanent resident yacht and the Port Police, we squeezed in to a spot where we could reach water in the harbour but which trapped the Coast Guard boat. After smiling sweetly and asking, the Port Police relented and said we could stay the night. It was a bank holiday the next day and the wind was high so the boat would not be leaving that evening after all.

Next day was a frantic morning of filling water tanks, washing clothes, shopping and then moving to a marina the other side of the large bay in Ayios Nikolaos. The pilot said this place was noisy and touristy but we did not find that at all. We actually liked the place – though I think the holiday makers have abandoned it this year. It was very empty. We left Deep Blue in a great little marina, got the bus and went West to Rethymno to meet up with our dear NZ friends Pippy and Richard and stay on Matelot for a few days. So great to see them and we explored the west of the island together in a rented car. What a wonderful time we had – we visited the beautiful town of Hania, went right to the end of the island and swam in glorious sea below a pre historic Hellenistic harbour which has been lifted 6-9 metres above sea-level by an earthquake in Falassama, and walked along one of the longest and deepest Gorge in Europe – the Samaria Gorge - with hoards of other people but still very worthwhile.

Crete is a magnificent island – the biggest in the med, with mountains to match in scale the Alps and fertile plains that feed much of Greece. We found the people of Crete generous and friendly, perhaps like the rest of the Greeks used to be before tourism tainted them.

We left Pippy and Richard to continue their sail west while we sailed a couple of miles North of Agios Nikolalaos to Spinalonga and Elounda. The island of Spinalonga used to be a leper colony (like The Island by Victoria Hyslop) but previously was a Venetian fortress built in 1579. Over the years it has been occupied by Venetians, Turks and then the Lepers until 1957. Now it is uninhabited but visited by a continuous stream of tourists. The Lagoon it protects is very shallow and used to be crystal clear but sadly no longer. However we liked it and stayed a few days and it was here we met one of the most interesting people we have ever met.

German Dieter said he was crazy but not stupid, 67 years old he spends his summers exploring the Greek islands by inflatable canoe. He will paddle 60 miles at a time between islands even in high winds, he sleeps in it (occasionally en-route) and carries a little water, a GPS, and a sleeping bag. He has a good pension and eats all his meals out. Replacing the canoe costs him Euro600 every 5 years and he has been paddling for 35 years. He used to paddle in his holidays but since he retired he paddles all summer. He spends the winters in Germany being Grandad and visiting his 6 children.

It was time to leave Crete so after many happy days there we set sail for an overnighter to Tilos where we arrived just after sunrise, anchored, swam and then slept before going ashore to meet another group of friendly locals. Tomorrow, after a wonderful month, we return to Turkey and will spend a week sorting a few jobs that need doing on Deep Blue and laying her up for the winter, and then it is home to Bristol for a weekend with the family before me back to Antibes and Andy (probably) back to Palma.

Aug-11 back on Deep Blue - to Crete!

2011-08-15T23:03:00.000-07:00

Back in Bristol – again – for a lovely few days with Fay who's broken up for the summer from her nursing degree.

Before our summer odyssey aboard Deep Blue – to brave the more desolate part of the southern Aegean: Marmaris, top right, to Crete, bottom left – 180 miles in some pretty serious wind! Our route shown in red.

From Rhodes, we return to Simi: at Panormitis, the exact same place David dislodged his hip on board 2 years ago! All was fine this time.

A long (60nm) tack down to Karpathos, a windswept, rather isolated place, with a lot of beauty, local talent and friendly, colourful people.

After 50+ miles with F5-6, the very high ridge running N-S made for some wicked gale force gusts as we approached Dhiafani harbour (Deep Blue at centre).

We were here also for the high walking – Olymbos perches on the ridge at the north...

Not a hospitable western coast!

Many older women still wear distinctive traditional dress; not just for the tourists (of which there were very few).

Olymbos perched up high against medieval pirate attack. We walked east and upwards to the practically ghost town of Avlona...

...where this charming and friendly restaurateur broke off from preparing for a large party to serve us a delicious, completely homemade meal: bread, artichoke omelette (his own chickens) with fresh herbs, and his own (deliciously mild) goat’s cheese. He gave us some

It still continued to blow back in Dhiafani where the locals where friendly and generous to the only visiting yacht.

Local artists depict current and past scenes of the island supporting itself...

...but there is sadness ... for men departed to the USA to make money there (mostly Baltimore and New York)...

... leaving families behind in an unsustainable island lifestyle. Fortunately the men return, older with decent nest eggs to keep the place looking very respectable and not desolate or run down at all.

After 3 nights on Karpathos, a gap in the winds allows us to sail the 70 miles South then SW to our destination – Crete and the ancient Minoan city/port of Zakros – I especially wanted to see the summer palace complex. The Minoans civilization was snuffed out in 1450BC, most likely by the vast explosion of nearby Santorini (see blog last year!).

The summer palace is very close to the spectacular, macabrely named Dead’s Gorge.

So here we sit, enjoying very friendly and good value local produce from our first Cretans, with the wind blasting over the steep hill to the northwest, gusting over 40kts. Ahh!! The “Meltemi”... NOW we really know why the Greeks and Romans banned commercial shipping crossing the Aegean in July and August... we’re running out of stuff – day 3 at anchor!

Catching up from Antigua - in photos!

2011-08-15T22:46:00.000-07:00

After Antigua, and a few happy days in the UK, work has to begin with B’s new job in Antibes, France – as author of the Superyacht Services guide for the south of France, whilst I tried to find engineering work – very different scene here!

In Cannes we met up with old friends on board the 24m classic Fyfe ‘Mariquita’ who we raced with last year – celebrating the old girl’s 100^th birthday!

For a month in Antibes we had the view of the mountains rather than the sea, which made a change.

I took a break from looking for work (hard!), to help my friend Jonathan move his 50’ classic Cairngorm (1938) to Paris from Falmouth with two other mates, Richard (here) and Nick.

Amusingly (?) we ran out of fuel at the mouth of the river Seine. The lifeboat man, Jean-Claude was a friendly chap, who accepted a beer whilst we were towed into Le Havre.

All fuelled up, the relieved skipper poses for Nick Wood.

Briefly back in Bristol to see Errol Fay’s boyfriend together with Fay – a day trip to Bath (my old Uni. city)...

...and just time to cycle there too along the old railway route – just a short section still working for joyrides...

...before returning to Marmaris, to finish off the lightning damage repair work on Deep Blue and to celebrate our 27^th wedding anniversary!

We made some time to go sailing for a few days, exploring the coast of Turkey SW of Marmaris – this very friendly and cheerful 23 year-old girl spends the winter with her family making things to sell to passing yachts like us; so we bought some gifts.

Couldn’t resist going back to Simi town, (Greece) where we stayed two night next to our friends Manni and Belinda.

(Eventually, we hope to make a path like that back home... when we figure out where that is!)

So good to be back on Deep Blue – we’ve so missed the morning swims!

Too soon we are back in Palma for the next phase of business building for me...

...plus some sightseeing for B – her first time to Palma...

The range of Serrano ham is brilliant – from €29 to > €149 per kilo.

The main reason also for being here is that we are race crew on the 43m schooner, This is Us, for the 3^rd time (perk of the job!). The three day Palma Superyacht Regatta was pretty varied – we were last on the first day!

But first on the last day! – The tactician redeemed himself, to the absolute joy of the owner (centre) and skipper (right). The new cannon (out of shot) requires the wearing of the special uniform. Bloody loud!!

So we had to celebrate.

Next stop for me was Bergen, Norway, to be delivery crew on the 38m classic motor yacht Atlantide (1930) back to Palma.

A Bergen highlight, the Briggen...

A good walk to the top to look back down to our departure direction from the Fjord. (Atlantide is slightly right of centre).

Safety briefing from the first mate – much hilarity, but serious stuff.

Surfer, Montee Coursey, my great watch partner, from Savannah USA

First day south and an auspicious start with a pod of dolphins having fun on my watch.

It was not all fun – the North Sea was grey and windy, then the Bay of Biscay was a pretty steady force 7 Nor’wester (would’ve been really grim on Deep Blue!)

It brightened up again as we turned east along Portugal with Atlantide looking superb.

The sails don’t add much speed, but keep the fuel consumption down a little (<50l/hour at 9.5kts)

Arriving at dawn at Gibraltar, we eventually took on about 8000 litres at lowest cost in the Med.

The much adored (and idle) ship’s cat, Cleo, was the one closest to seasickness on the 11 days at sea.

Finally, in Palma after 2371nm at sea from Bergen, meet the rest of the crew: Bren (Canadian chef, not on trip); me; Tatiana (Russian); Rosie (USA, delivery cook); Piet (SA, first mate); Jason (USA); Justin (Canadian, skipper).

People Watching

2011-03-02T12:07:00.000-08:00

20th February 2010

“I want to be a Billionaire so f…g bad
Buy all the things I never had”
is thumping and everyone is singing along. The black guests are singing the anthem the loudest as they line the dance floor in pairs, the girl moving to the music.. Up and down, her back to her boyfriend, sliding against him as he sways gently, his face expressionless. We are in Abracadabra’s the local outdoor night club where (mainly) young people from all over the world, - yachties, Antiguans, temporary residents and holiday makers mingle in a tight heaving mass on the dance floor every Friday and Saturday night. The girls are dressed in short short dresses. The black girls wear enormous heels, the whites flip-flops. The black hairstyles of both men and women are varied and wonderful, hair extensions, wigs and natural hair piled onto the top of heads or down the back in long long dreads. The whites are more uniform - the girls with long blond hair and the men short back and sides. We all dance side by side, sometimes together, bumping and then apologising with a polite smile, everyone friendly. As the night turns to the early hours the yachties get more drunk and I have to leave… being bumped into and drinks spilt on me is no longer my idea of fun. Andy and I walk home by the light of the full moon … “tonight is going to be a good night ….” ringing in our ears.

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The early morning bus to St Johns is filling up with office workers. Even the pull down seats at the end of each bench seat in the transit style minibus are taken. Seventeen of us tightly packed. The last seat is taken by a tall thin neatly dressed young man with dreadlocks pulled into a neat pony tail and an Antiguan Utilities Authority ID card round his neck. He has his small son with him. His son starts crying .Dad gently pulls his son onto his lap and talks to him quietly, pointing things out to him as the bus drove along. The child is wearing a backpack almost bigger than him and starts playing with a smart toy car. Dad hangs a colourful child’s backpack on the back of the seat in front.

“Bus stop”. We stop in front of a colourful building - a nursery. Dad picks up child and disembarks. I call out - “you have left your bag” but the lady next to me reassures me “he come back”. And sure enough, the bus waits while dad settles his son at school before returning to complete his journey with what is obviously sons cast-off backpack.

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Cloggies and it is bar-b-q night. The food is finished and the disco ramps up the volume. The place suddenly fills with young people, chatting, catching up with fellow crew, comparing notes, networking. I am chatting with Splif, one of the YC sailing instructors who is pretending he is upset with me because I beat him on the water in a Laser the previous evening. I am full of myself because I had been at the front of the fleet for the first time in all 4 races of the evening. Secretly he is pleased with me - just gently teasing. Then I realise there is a uniformed man standing near me. A policeman. I smile and he smiles back so I ask if he is a real policeman .. “yes”. I wonder why a young policeman on duty would be standing in the middle of a dance floor while the drug dealers do there stuff outside. I guess this is the Caribbean.

***********

Bryan seemed very self assured, cocky some would say. 40ish, well tanned, once slim but beginning to show a tum, he was Piers and my diving instructor at Christmas. I was not sure if I liked him at first, he seemed distracted and had his hands full with his very cute but bouncy and chatty small daughter. Not conducive to teaching diving. But over the three days I began to sympathise with his situation - newly separated from his wife and having to live on his dive boat, caring for his daughter when his wife requested. But diving was his passion and he was very sure of his ability.

A month after I qualified with my Open Water I heard that Bryan had had a diving accident. It seems that he had got carried away when diving on a FAD (Fish Attraction Device) placed 300 metres below the surface after the game fishermen on his boat had landed half eaten big, big fish - obviously eaten as they were brought up. There must be big sharks down there. Bryan got his tank on, grabbed his camera and jumped in long before his diving buddy was ready. His buddy waited at the surface for several minutes before diving himself. Visibility was fantastic - he thought at least 25 metres and at 25 metres he could only see bubbles. He decided to surface. Bryan came up suddenly - he had run out of air, distracted by his camera malfunctioning while he continued to fin down and had not been able to stay for his 7 minute safety stop. His dive-watch was alarming but buddy thought this was because he had gone below a preset of 27 metres and Bryan seemed OK. He got himself out of the water and his buddy followed. He found Bryan later self administering oxygen. Buddy asked if they should abort the fishing trip and get back but Bryan has many debts so said no and he got off his bed and went on deck. Later Buddy realised Bryan was nowhere to be seen and went to check on the bunk. Bryan was back on oxygen and was now obviously in a lot of pain. In a moment of clarity Bryan requested that the boat make for home. Buddy checked the watch - maximum depth 90 metres. He called the emergency services. By now Bryan was passing in and out of consciousness and Buddy was worried he was dead at one point.

We are on Antigua. Antigua is a developing country with few medical facilities but within hours Bryan was en-route to one of the French islands and a decompression chamber. By now he was paralysed from the neck down. Over the next few days he started to gain movement above the waist but he will never dive again and may well have to spend the rest of his life in a wheel chair.

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I heard about a swim across Falmouth Bay - a distance of nearly 1 mile and decided I would do it. When I arrived at the start at least half the participants were children from the local swimming club and many were very little. As an oldie I was put with the under 12’s group(!) and found myself next to a tiny boy. I asked him how old he was … eight years old!! We were lined up on a yacht dock, literally shoulder to waist, told to make for a dot of sand in the distance and then put under starters orders. We jumped the 12 feet to the sea en-mass, a seething group all trying to find clear water in which to swim. I was very concerned about the little ones, especially a little girl who could barely swim.

Once in the water I couldn’t see the beach. There was a strong wind blowing off the land taking you out to sea and to cap it all there was a keel boat race taking place. I was so close to one that Errol who was crew and I were able to greet each other!

But we all made it safely to land, no one drowned and I made decent time. In fact I won my group (I was also second and third as I was the only female veteran!)

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I had been queuing in the bank in Nelsons Dockyard for an hour. At last I was out and as I left a lady pounced. “You have mail”. She was “my” post lady and she had obviously seen me go into the bank and had been waiting for me to come out. She was not the sort of post lady that delivers the post as we have no delivery, but the one responsible for the occasional letter that arrives at the small post office and waits until I go and claim it. There are several of these ladies - I guess one for each street or two in the tiny town of English Harbour where we live. My mail was a Christmas card. Over one month late!

Preparing to leave (?) with wonderful memories

2011-02-20T11:16:00.000-08:00

Christmas breakfast has never been like this before!

Fay models a Christmas pressy from us - an apron for her kitchen back home.

We make our way to Nelson's dockyard in party mood

Marisa, one of Fay's best friends from home, is here on Scheherazade

These Italian's are getting into the swing of things on Christmas Day!

Sean used to work with Fay on Windrose - Santa provided the sunnies for Piers!

Exploring the island - the gorgeous beach of Half-Moon Bay...

...Where you have to plaster yourself up with the creamy mud! For amazingly smooth skin afterwards.

It was great having Fay's boyfriend Errol staying with us for 2 weeks too. We approve!

Sadly, the time comes to leave all too soon. Fay + Errol back to Fay's Bristol home...

Piers and Jenni, back to Manchester, then Piers on to Shanghai.

Life continues as normal on our deck...

...And in town shopping for fish. Excellent and good value here in the market.

Our American friend Todd, engineer from Schererazade, owns a Carriacou sloop he built, which we went day sailing on. These are old style working boats which ply the waters between the Caribbean islands with small and varied cargoes.

Kendal is great fun, also from the USA. She seems to have got to know almost everyone on the island since arriving a few weeks ago!

The proud owner, Todd. Not a bad way of spending a Sunday!

We went to see (our first) 20/20 cricket match with Kendal in the Vast (Chinese built) cricket stadium...

We were rooting for Guyana - fielding here - against the Combined Colleges and Campuses (of the Caribbean). A really, incredibly exciting game!

These lads were also very enthusiastic supporters! We were about the only white faces in the stadium ...

Apart from a white, hilarious streaker who ran across the pitch at half time!

The match was decided in the last over: 3 balls to go, Guyana 4 points behind, they hit a six!!! This is the scene as the pitch gets invaded by ecstatic fans!

Up at Shirley heights for our next visitor - this chap is very skillful...

... making the bird for B. He's no longer allowed to work on the beaches and this explains why you do not find any pedlars on the beaches of Antigua in our experience.

Will Allen is our guest - sharing a birthday with B. Such great company!

We threw a great party, including the surprise arrival of the 5 stewardesses!

Steve, Marisa and Todd.

Will seemed to be having a great time!

A couple of days later,Vince seemed to be only one to get the message about the Super-Hero fancy dress at the Round the Island prize-giving at the yacht club! He's such a good sport, he did not seem to be at all perturbed and he, B and William had indeed been heroes! (see blog)

The next day, Paula and Pete arrived by cruise ship so the three simultaneous birthdays can be celebrated!

Paula, next to Will, Pete and B all with birthday on 17th January

Another deck party to celebrate, this time during the day.

The Airds can always be relied upon to swell a party in a fun way! Paula and Pete were friends with Katie (and Jed) in Zimbabwe.

A cold piece of reality - the very high technology carbon mast and then rigging of Salperton V gave way in calm seas and light airs off Guadeloupe, south of here. This is going to be a BIG insurance claim!

Life still goes on ...

Our next bumper crop of visitors: Giles (left) is our long awaited house mate, finally arrives with his lovely girlfriend Nicole (right). Also here are our good friends Suzy and Lee out from England.

The ferry man and his son (really!) bring us back from a great lunch over the other side of English harbour with everyone before Giles and Nicole go home.

More life...

Windrose returns from a shake down sail in preparation for ...

... the third RORC Caribbean 600 race, starts Monday 21st Feb.

And I leave for St. Maarten - to come back to Antigua soon, when my lawyer hopefully has things sorted for me. Fingers crossed for my long awaited, locally sabotaged work permit!!

Andy

A little local difficulty

2011-02-17T08:22:00.000-08:00

17th February

They came in force to take Andy away and I was blissfully unaware. I was on the bus to St Johns with our UK visitors Susie and Lee when I got a text from him, “Miss Murfield, Miss Tomas and Officer Angel are taking me to labour office in town. It appears someone doesn’t like me. Does not look good. Only text me.”

Andy has been calling the labour office every week since we arrived in November - each time told his new work permit was on its way. We have discussed this state of affairs with many ex-pats and all here have periods once a year when they are waiting for work permit renewal. These are people with businesses, people who have lived here for years with no other place to go. They continue to work as they feel protected by the renewal application. Andy also felt protected by the application process and had not made any effort to hide he wanted to work. However after 3 months of waiting our tourist visas were about to expire and we were bracing ourselves for the renewal process.

We arrived at the bustling and confusing bus station, positioned between the meat, fish and vegetable markets - no titivation for the tourists in this part of town - and I abandoned a bemused Susie and Lee to the arms of a noisy bustling crowd to return home on the next bus. Andy needed passports still at home and me back in St John’s to attend the labour office.

Two hours and two bus journeys later Andy was white faced, contrite. Officer Angel explained the situation. My husband had contravened his visa by touting for work and his work visa had now been turned down. Someone had alerted them. Therefore my husband had to leave the country and would not be able to return for 6 months. He apologised and suggested that a work permit would be granted for next season but they “had to act on their intelligence.” After photocopying Andys passport and scribbling our cell phone numbers and my name on the copy he let us go, requesting Andy return the next morning with confirmation of a flight out. When he did, they were surprised to see his flight was to St Maarten and not the UK.

I still had to get my visa extension, I intended to stay on. All I could think of was the pending visit by my parents to celebrate my mothers 80th birthday. There was already a queue at the immigration office at 7am the next morning. There were also people sitting on the railings. Over-dressed black young women with their almond shaped eyes and plated hair pulled hard back into a pony tail; men and women with long, long dreadlocks; a well dressed, bespectacled man with well spoken English; a girl with her tight tee-shirt, headphones singing at the top of her voice; an elderly lady with her husband. I was the only white person. It was not obvious where the queue really was. When the doors eventually opened we organised ourselves according to instructions issued into four queues, spoken to by the Customer Care Officer as if we were stupid not to know where to stand “single file.. I said single file and not in front of this line.” Somehow I ended up at the front of a new queue but was not invited into the building. Instead every other queue filed in and slowly people dispersed. In my impatience I entered the building where I was told off like a school child “I am not ready for you yet.” At 10am I was summoned in, given a form and told to return Monday “early” with it filled in. No amount of persuasion would make her change her mind so Monday I was back again.

In the meantime Andy has found a local solicitor - she came highly recommended - who guaranteed she was able to get a work visa. To our relief she got the 6 month ban on entering the country lifted before Andy left for St Maarten so he booked a return for the same day. While Andy flew off island I returned to the immigration office and its queues. After a 5 hour wait was told to return on Tuesday with my husband. “Didn’t you ask all the things you needed?” I left in tears of frustration.

Tuesday I once again returned to the immigration office - this time with Andy, who had successfully returned home proudly displaying his new three month visa. We decided on a new tactic - arrive late and jump the queue. It worked well. We were summoned together into the Immigration officers office. He was constantly interrupted as it appeared that EVERY decision went through him personally. We witnessed big decisions being made that affected peoples lives while he spoke on the phone, talked to us, made decisions about uniforms … he was so over worked and the decisions seemed to depend on how he felt rather than any system or procedure. He was unable to make a decision about us so called in his boss - the commissioner in charge of immigration.

He commissioner, a well dressed man with an expensive watch told us he was “upset” that we had got a solicitor - when the lawyers step in the barriers go up he told us. He himself had already decided to lift the 6 month ban on Andys return - we had not needed a solicitor for that. “It is written in the law” so we should know what the procedures are for getting work permits…. And so he carried on for 15 minutes - not making much sense - before getting up and leaving everyone baffled about what was to happen next, including his officer. I got my visa anyway but it appears Andy has no choice but to only work off island. Thus no taxes for Antigua and no training for an Antiguan.

We are trying to settle back down to normal life but everything is changed now. I have got back to my fund raising and looking forward to Mum and Dad coming but Andy has to go to St. Maarten and St Lucia to work. The Captains of the yachts have been a fantastic support and they are prepared to move so he can work - they want his services enough. I am very proud of Andy - the support he has shows what a good job he is doing.

Birthdays, parties, rescue at sea and super-yacht regatta

2011-01-31T10:25:00.000-08:00

24th January 2011

The last month has been amazing. Mostly it has been taken up with birthday celebrations though I keep wondering why I would want to celebrate getting older! William, Pete and I run a birthday club. You can only join it if your birthday is 17th January but it does seem to be a good club to be a member of. Will arrived in Antigua on the 15th and his feet have hardly hit the ground since he has been here. Since Will arrived we have had three birthday bar-b-ques (two were ours), a full moon party, an aborted sail around the island, a rescue at sea, an after sailing fancy dress party and the usual Friday night out and today is only day 9 of his visit! Pete dropped in for one day but we made sure he had a birthday celebration to remember!

The 17th was a Monday and after our swim and birthday breakfast table Will and I spent the day taking the bus to St Johns for fish, meat and veggies. Dreadlocked, laidback Jusbos, my fish man, had sold all his fish to my horror and so had all the other fishermen but Jusbos told me not to worry cause he would have some nice fish for me tomorrow. “But Jusbos that is no good. It is my twin and my birthday today and we need some for our celebrations”. “Wait - then in that case I have a birthday present for you”. He went to a cool box and pulled out a bag of prepared fish and gave it to me. There was a lovely mix of fishes and tuna fish (he has a small boat and I feel his tuna is probably OK) and I was very flattered. He turned to Will and said “you must come to my ghetto for a drink” and “knocked hands” in the Antiguan fist to fist way. I slipped him some money to cover the fish and we went in search of vegetables.

That evening our small party went large. The Airds came en-mass and so did the Vicky and Jonty group. Vicky used to be a BA air-hostess and she had a group of girl friends to stay - all very glamorous and wonderfully friendly. Of course… they were all retired air hostesses. They were such fun and the men especially enjoyed the evening! When I first met Vicky I tried to guess what her husbands business was in 20 questions but NO-ONE would ever guess. He makes the machinery that makes concrete railway sleepers and consults companies on building the factories to manufacture sleepers! His Swan sailing yacht is called Sleeper and now we know why!

The round the island race was an absolute must. Unfortunately for William especially it followed a rather late night in Abras and we had to be on the dock at 7am. We were sailing in Seal - Vince’s 35foot cruiser class yacht. I had persuaded him we should sail round the island and not the shortened course. He had spent the previous day scrubbing Seals waterline and was looking forward to the sail. There were just the three of us on board - William, Vince and myself. I think William felt ill before we stepped on Seal and this was not helped by the 3 metre waves and strong winds once out of Falmouth Harbour. I was enjoying myself and we were sailing really well for the two hour upwind leg.

As we approached Green Island, and were starting to ease the sheets we noticed the faster boats ahead were pointing in a direction that appeared to be away from the island so I went below to check the charts (I was navigator). As I pulled out the charts I heard someone faintly on the VHF “This is Elethea. We require urgent assistance, we have lost our rudder, our anchor is dragging and we are on a leeward shore”

I yelled up to Vince. “She is just ahead, I can see her on the reef”. Elethea is a heavily modified First 38 and she had 12 crew! First I tried radioing ABSAR - Antiguans rescue service. No reply. Then I tried phoning ABSAR. They were on Montserrat and would be at least 2 hours. Well we could not sail by. In heavy seas William and I had to get the sails down and secured. I found a heavy line to use as a tow rope and Vince steered very expertly close to Elethea. With great effort we managed to get a line to her and one of the crew - a dreadlocked islander - hung on to the line and managed to attach it through the bow roller onto a cleat. I do not know how he managed to hold that line because Vince and I could not manage to hang onto the line they threw to us. The whole time this was going on our depth alarm was constantly going off. I don’t think William will mind me saying that while all this was going on his seasickness got the better of him and he sat on the coach roof watching the proceedings with a growing horror.

For me the fear set in while we towed Elethea. The tow line was snatching as the two boats were thrown about by the swell. I tried to make sure that Seal was not damaged and that the line did not come off the winch. We towed Elethea for 20 minutes before a couple of guys brought out a ski boat and a rib to take over. Just as they arrived the tow line snapped with a gun like retort at Elethes’s bow and I thought “this is it” as the line came flying towards me like a rocket as the tension was released. It glanced my elbow and suddenly it was my turn to feel ill!

When Vince asked “Shall we continue the race” William and I, almost in unison said “No”. We were both looking forward to getting back to dry land. In the event we had a lovely sail back to Jolly Harbour with me at the helm. Vince was exhausted, William perked up and I began to feel better with the wind behind us as we surfed our way homeward.

31st January 2011

Pete and Paula sailed in on Sunday 23rd on a huge cruise liner and we had another mega barbeque. The lovely Airds were rent a party and so we were at least 15 (I lost count!) for lunch. Champagne and conversation flowed - it was great to see the third member of our birthday club (Pete) and Paula. It was sad to say goodbye to them late afternoon just before the ship left.

So now the whole of January has flown past. The last three days have been spent on a super-yacht called “This is Us” as race crew in the Antiguan Super Yacht challenge. We had a brilliant time sailing in near perfect conditions on a beautiful yacht with a great crew though our performance in the racing was diabolical mainly due to the terrible helming (on one downwind leg the helm - a local white guy - crash gybed the schooner booms three times on the trot - crash, crash, crash). Despite the bad performance we have been invited by the owner to crew the St Barts Bucket which is THE yacht race to go to in the Caribbean. We have accepted . So our Antiguan life continues.

Cricket and Chinese in Antigua

2011-01-15T06:30:00.000-08:00

The more I read about China the more concerned I get about this super-power. Even Antiguan politicians are concerned about the way the Chinese are taking over the economy here and euphoria about the passing Euro Zone crisis should be tempered by the knowledge that the CHINESE bought many of the government bonds in the widely applauded successful bond auction (The Times 12th Jan 2011).

Here in Antigua some in the government are starting to be vocal about the Chinese. We see them driving in government registered cars and brand new 4x4’s with big engines. As we know the Chinese like to be conspicuous about their wealth - hence the growing demand for Shark Fin Soup and other expensive delicacies. When we were in China last year we watched middle class parties in restaurants load their table with expensive food that then does not get eaten or taken in doggie bags. (Apparently the same goes in India - a country with a greater population than China that can barely feed itself - and now food inflation is going through the roof as a result). This is causing unrest.

“The large number of Chinese and Chinese businesses (and I quote Antiguan politician Asot Michael from my daily read, the Daily Observer) and poor quality products (are) taking over the country…..our local business community is being taken over by the Chinese. … my difficulty (with the Chinese) is their unwillingness to integrate and their refusal to share employment and profit making benefits of their operations beyond members of their ethnic group. Chinese immigrants get subsidies, grants and concessionary loan financing for their business operations from government agencies in China, making it difficult for local businesses that are dependent on commercial bank finance to compete. There is also growing concern that Chinese retail operations are under paying taxes and racking up huge profits which the repatriate.”

My take on this is that in exchange for the building projects, loans and agricultural support the Chinese are given easy access to the local market where they under-cut retailers, putting them out of business and thus enabling Chinese products to become the only products available on the island. I already realise to my horror that some of the vegetables I buy here come from China (I thought I was buying local from the market). Do the Antiguans need a very expensive cricket stadium, a multipurpose cultural centre and street lighting through the jungle? Maybe the airport expansion, hospital and power plant are good things but the means by which the Antiguans came by them may not be (soft loans, imported Chinese work force, access by China to the local market and Shark fin fishing rights). This is a tiny island and perhaps illustrates in microcosm how the Chinese can manipulate and outwit African statesmen.

15th January 2011

We had a fantastic evening last night. We went to the afore mentioned cricket stadium to watch a game of cricket - one of a series of games being played be young cricket teams from around the world.
We drove to the cricket ground with James (an engineer of M.Y Siren) and my new girl friend Kendall who we met on Todds Caricu (a wonderful traditional Caribbean sailing boat) when we spent an idyllic day sailing round the island last Sunday. We had heard that the cricket was fun and on a whim decided to go. We had no idea who was playing and Kendall knew NOTHING about cricket.

We were surprised at the number if cars parked haphazardly all around the floodlit stadium. It is certainly an imposing building. People milling around and filing into the ground. Andy went to buy tickets while we parked. When we met up he handed us the 10EC (£2.50) tickets and we read who was playing. The tickets were valid for the earlier Somerset vs Windward Islands and, the one we were going to watch, Combined Colleges of the Caribbean vs. Guyana. We wandered towards the entrance. A flag seller waved his flags on sticks in front of us 10EC each - so we bought four. They were Guyana’s flag - so we were to support Guyana apparently!

We managed to find food and seats. We appeared to be the only white faces in a sea of local men, women and children. It was obviously a big thing to come to the cricket. But despite the huge number of people the GIGANTIC Chinese built stadium was barely ¼ full. Surrounding us were groups of teenagers, many beautiful women in glamorous groups, men congregating to discuss the game ball by ball and apparently unsupervised children running between the seats. The crowd was friendly and obviously enjoying both the cricket and us leaping around with everyone else when a 6 was scored or a ball was caught.

The cricket match was very close. Half way through the second half with our team batting - Guyana were chasing 179 for 3 and the score was 80 for 5 - it looked like Guyana were going to lose. The cricket was brilliant and the CCC team were excellent fielders, though their bowling was not as good as Guyana’s had been. Then suddenly a big cheer erupted from the stands accompanied by howls of laughter and everyone standing up. A WHITE guy was STREAKING across the pitch. We laughed until we cried. At this point Guyana lifted their game. The streaker had told them something! It was a 20 + 20 over game and 19 overs and 3 balls into the second half we still couldn’t tell who was going to win. Our team by now was seriously going for it though and … oh my goodness… they hit a SIX!!!! Our team had won!! The children flooded the pitch, climbing over the wall in front of us and sprinting across the green. The stadium suddenly became a sea of activity.

The four hours in the stadium went so fast. We were the entertainment as well as the entertained. A young kid, obviously dared to do so, came to talk to us, to the hilarity of his large group of teenage friends. He was called Stephen and was 15 years old. He started the conversation by saying “I like white people”! He pointed to girls he was at school with - buxom young ladies with tight low cut tee shirts. Stephen looked 10 years old, dressed in oversized shorts, socks and too large plastic sandals. Kendall teased him that he was showing his “butt” (she is American) and he started to pull up the shorts and tighten his belt. He got all embarrassed. He had obviously been sent to try and get some alcohol from us. We gave him a coke and chatted. Now the game was over we gave him one of our flags. Another child climbed over the wall and grabbed the flag James had dropped, running away with it.

We went home happy, waving our two remaining flags - calling at the bar in Falmouth for a last drink to tell everyone in loud excited voices what a great night we had had.

The only down side of the evening was the state of the stadium. I am not sure how old the stadium is but it is Chinese financed and Chinese built and it is shoddy. My seat was wonky and I kept sliding to one side. I looked carefully at it, and then the rest of the seating around it and realised the seat supports were rusting through - every piece of metal in the place was rusty. Plastic coated rusty metal. I needed to go to the toilet. The doors were falling off their hinges and they wouldn’t flush. I decided to open the cistern to try flushing it but saw that the ball cock and all the workings were crumbled on the bottom of the cistern and no water. The drainage ditches around the outside of the stadium were covered with concrete grates. Except the concrete was crumbling and the had become ankle breakers with great gaps opened up. It made me even more angry about the Chinese here in Antigua.

Today William arrives. We are counting the hours - three hours till touchdown! So excited to be sharing my birthday with my “twin”!!

Antiguan Christmas and New Year

2011-01-05T17:37:00.000-08:00

Christmas has been awesome. We had the whole family for two complete weeks and had such a brilliant time together. We ate, talked, sailed, laughed, learnt to dive, swam, snorkelled, explored and partied. Christmas day was a truly Antiguan experience apart from the visit by Father Christmas! At mid-day we were drinking Bucks Fizz in Nelsons Dockyard along with a large number of locals, dancing to a popular local band. In the afternoon we cooked bar-b-qed fish and steak and after Charades we partied in a local outdoor night club.

Piers and I spent three wonderful days learning to dive in warm water surrounded by a forest of soft corals and shoals of fish - including the beautiful Old Wife we had eaten on Christmas day, large lobsters we intended to eat but couldn’t because the fishermen decided to party instead of fulfil a large order and large Rays. We both felt comfortable 40 feet under and I will be diving again as soon as possible.

On New Years Eve we took the groovy guys to the airport and then got ourselves ready to party. We had an early dinner at Trappers before arriving at Nelsons Dockyard at 9pm - one of the first. By midnight the place was packed and I had been dancing none stop for at least two hours. I do attract quite a bit of attention and have a constant stream of men coming to dance with me. I am loving it but every now and then Andy gets cross with one of them and tells them to “F… off”. Their reaction is always to high five him, followed by knocking fists together followed by hand to heart all with a smile - I am your friend and I know she is your wife, don’t worry but please let me dance with her!! I have quite a long list of dance partners!

At 2am the band finally stopped and we filed out towards Abras - the most popular club where you can dance on the wooden veranda to European music or on sand to reggae. We carried on dancing until 3am when Andy insisted I should sit with him on a sofa overlooking the dance floor. The next thing we both knew was being woken up by a cleaner - the club was empty and it was 5 in the morning! We walked home and slept much of New Years day.

We have been here for 7 weeks and feel very much at home. Everyone is really friendly, we have had no trouble from anyone - in fact very much the opposite (the only exception was the agro on the beach I described before. I can report that the nasty man involved drowned while diving just before Christmas. No one is mourning his death). .The local people are open, accepting and helpful. The incomers are just the same. People make friends very quickly here, there are few cliques, probably because of the transient nature of many people living here.

Since being here I have leant to dive, been on several walks and spent hours watching the birds feed on our veranda. The wildlife is abundant but I have no way of identifying much of it. Antigua is such a beautiful island and I am really enjoying being here.

I sail lasers on a regular basis - the oldest competitor and the only female but the guys are very kind to me! Last night I was out in 25 knots of wind and only capsized twice between races!! It was a very exciting sail. I swim twice a day most days so I am keeping very fit.

Andy is in great demand and so I have decided to be a kept woman but I am helping the Antiguan National Sailing Academy to raise much needed funds - they teach the local kids FREE OF CHARGE to swim and then sail. It is now part of their school day and the academy is teaching 160 children a week. Last year they raised enough funds to buy 12 Oppies and start paying sailing instructors for the lessons and this year their aim is to buy 10 Picos and continue to pay the instructors. The instructors are also home grown so the academy is already helping to pay some salaries. All the other staff are volunteers. It costs $12.50 US per month to teach one child to sail. Any sponsorship gratefully received! Sometimes when surrounded by all the wealth here it is hard to remember that this is a third world country.

I am also involved with a new pressure group just started by the YC to clean up the water in Falmouth Bay. Antiguan Sailors against Sewage! This started because some parents said they wouldn't let their children learn to sail because of the state of the bay. This sort of campaign is right up my street.

Birthday and Christmas Carols

2010-12-29T07:31:00.000-08:00

I am delighted to celebrate my birthday here ...

... the best present of all: To have my wonderful wife and children, plus their nearest and dearest with me!!

Fay and Erol seem so well suited and happy. We're up at Shirley heights to continue the fun...

Our friends Bob, Nigel and Pete from Falmouth UK have just sailed over and helped me celebrate!

er... B seems to be enjoying herself!

Well yes, Piers, Erol is a tall lad ...

... but Fay can still teach him how to sail a dinghy!

The new and the old(ish), from our deck

A Christmas Carols concert from the 'Island Academy' made things a little more Christmassy.

(Did anyone know 'Noell' is how its supposed to be spelt?)

Bus rides, people watching and shopping

2010-12-27T06:03:00.000-08:00

18th Dec 2010

The people here communicate by telepathy. Let me explain. We use the bus to travel to the main town here and are constantly amazed at how the bus driver knows to stop and wait for someone. The buses do not run to a timetable so it is not that the same driver always picks up the same person at the same time. The buses queue and wait in St Johns until it is completely full and then leaves for Falmouth dropping passengers off as they go. Once in Falmouth they drive as fast as possible back again but always keeping an eye open for a prospective passenger. I have known drivers reverse at high speed to pick up a passenger from a side street or wait for several valuable minutes while a girl totters down a rough track to the road where the bus is waiting. A touch on an arm indicates the person next to you wants to get out. Not much talking takes place except the occasional “bus stop” or “make change for 20”.

Paul, a slight man in tatty clothes, comes to clean our plunge pool every Thursday. Last week I walked with him towards the bus stop, “where are you living?” “The other side of St Johns”. When I asked him how he got to the bus station he told me "by bike”. “So you come all the way here just to clean our pool?” “No I do another, big one, over at Cobbs Cross”. “And you walk there?” “Yes but sometimes I get a lift”. Wow. I was thinking this is not a good business model but then he told me that his life was good - he was building himself a house. I asked about children. It turns out he has two with two different mums. Each child lives with her maternal grandmother and he has not seen either child for over a year as they live at home in Guiana. “My life is a little complicated but I am going to visit them and my sick mother this Christmas”.

I am beginning to get used to my life on the island. Andy works and earns the money while I keep house and do the shopping. It is strange because the day just disappears and if you ask me what I have been doing I probably could not tell you. It is too hot to rush around. I did go for a job interview which was a bizarre experience. I read the local paper from cover to cover most days and there was a job advertised which matched my experience exactly so I thought why not? I sent in my CV to KPMG the firm of accountants that had been asked to find a candidate. They called me and asked me to interview. At this point I asked who their client was. They would not tell me or give me any information in case I worked out who the company was. “We may not tell you in the interview either”. OK…

What to wear was a problem as the office workers here wear business suits. I have one but I realised I would sweat profusely in it on my way to the interview as I had to take a bus into St Johns and then walk. An air-conditioned taxi will cost more than I was prepared to invest in an anonymous job! The day dawned and actually it was a wet day so at least it was going to be relatively cool. So umbrella in hand I made my way to KPMG. It was tipping down with rain when I arrived early so made the decision to go and wait in reception rather than hang around for the correct time. The receptionist was open mouthed that I had walked (it was less than 1 mile!) I asked her about the job. She informed me that there were “lots of accountants on the island” but there had been very few applicants because they must have got wind of who the job was for…. The government.

Now this surprises me. I have read in the paper here that everyone wants to work for the government. But I definitely do not want to work for the Antiguan government with 60 staff below me. I do not feel ready and it took some persuading the HR lady and the KPMG partner (both Antiguans) that I only worked in commercial organisations and my background was not suited to government work. We parted friends!

The fish market in St Johns took some working out. The first time I went there I miss understood “No you cannot buy fish here” to meaning I couldn’t buy fish from the market but actually he meant to say “someone else has bought THESE fish and I am the fish cleaner - you need to go to one of those other guys”! We have a lovely fisherman who sells us the best fish. The other fishermen try to sell me fish and I tell them I only buy from my friend and they smile and say OK. I have asked my friend about the Chinese. “Yes the government have given them fishing rights, but it doesn’t affect me. It is OK”. I wonder if he understands the implications of the big fishing boats the Chinese send. Perhaps because they fish for shark fins he thinks the other fish are safe?

Luckily the fish, meat and veggy market are all next to the bus station so it is really convenient shopping. The only problem is that sometimes the bus can wait in the sweltering heat for half an hour for the last seat to fill before driving off and being stopped a few 100 yards down the road so that the same person can get off again. The lettuce can be a bit wilted by the time I get home!

27th Dec 2010

We have had a brilliant Christmas with Piers, Fay, Jenny and Errol here with us. We have another few days before they leave and we are all making the most of being together. Christmas was a very Antiguan experience. Lots of alcohol and bar-b-q food was involved. It was also a very sociable experience with the traditional midday gathering of all down at Nelsons dockyard to drink champagne and say hi to friends before weaving your way home for food. We had two extra visitors - Boonie and Marisa - and played charades into the evening before ending the evening in Abras (actually Boonie, Andy and myself did, Piers, Jenni, Fay and Errol stayed at home and read!).

One last funny story about how things are here I forgot to tell earlier. We have friends Steve and Carole. The other day they arrived at our house in a pick-up van with a smashed windscreen - and I mean completely shattered on the DIVERS side. “Oh my goodness - did that just happen - how can you see to drive?” “Oh that - no its been like that for weeks - I just hang out of the window to drive!”

Steve, it turns out is one of the unluckiest guys on the island. He bought a new car some months ago, paid for it and was happily driving it for a week or two. One day he had been shopping and returned to the car, got in and started to drive off. Two large guys approached the car and told him to get out. Steve got out (he is a gentle soul and does what he is told) leaving the car running. They jumped in and drove off - they were confiscating the car because duty had not been paid by the importer. Nothing to do with Steve. He has been left carless and fighting a court case to get the car back.

In the meantime a friend of his, who owns the pickup, had had a large evening and got into an argument with the bouncer at Mongoose bar. He jumped into his pickup and tried to drive off. The bouncer threw a punch at him through the windscreen - leaving a huge fist shattered shape on the drivers side. What his hand looked like after I do not know but this friend has now lent Steve the van. “don’t you get stopped by the police?” “Yes, all the time - they are so sure that the van must be for sale and will be cheap. When I tell them it isn’t they lose interest and wave me on!”

Happy New Year.

BBQ#2, fauna + the Antigua superyacht Charter Show

2010-12-12T15:15:00.000-08:00

Our second BBQ for our friends - here are Kirsty, Ian + Lauren, who are Jed and Katie (from Zim)'s 3 lovely twins. Every bit as kind and generous as their mum and dad.

Carol + Steve (we sail against now!), Jed, 'Newfie' George with the Ernest Hemmingway look going on.

Stacey + Pru (Vince's wife) + Vince

Wonderfully athletic and large geckos here

Sugar birds are our constant chattering companions on the deck at breakfast

Only saw one of these pigeons ...

The hungry and noisy infant royal tern being totally ignored by parent (thanks to Ray for identifying!)

We had a good surf break this week, (Christian!!)

Not tried the stand up paddling yet...

Old and new contemplate each other.

Now here's B demonstrating to Erol, how age and gender take precedence in a clear port-starboard challenge!

A great view from the top of the hill right by us, where in English Harbour...

... and at the Atnigua Yacht Club plus Falmouth Harbour marinas over 100 yachts gather for the Antigua Charter show.

A total hardware value must be counted in the billions, or even 10's of billions of $.

With some very unusual designs - this grew on me.

Fay has worked on Leopard 3, but she was not in the show.

The Maltese Falcon was though, very much so. A big feature.

Every opportunity to show off to the brokers...

... the toys

... including this hovercraft on Exuma

... 'tenders to' Casino Royal

... and at night

Rodger, the skipper of the largest motor yacht, the 253' Kogo (I did some repair work on) kindly gave us an hour long tour. The bridge I could write a book on!

The boss likes swimming so this private pool has a jetstream built in so he can 'do his lengths'.

One of the many beautiful, Japanese influenced spaces on board - part of the master suite.

Homelessness, deformities and sewage!

2010-12-09T08:45:00.000-08:00

9th December 2010

Life is tough here for many people. Homelessness is hidden unless you look closely. The biggest dangers for someone without a roof is getting wet through and catching a chill or being beaten up.

Jacko is a bit wacko - a skinny man with a deformed back, he either limps around or rides his donkey everywhere. The donkey currently has a 25 day old baby which when allowed follows her mother or is the bate to get mum home fast, depending on Jacko’s intentions for the day. On Sunday he came to the beach for a swim and to see if he could beg some food and beer from the bar-b-quers so left baby at home. He stripped down to his underpants which were - to say the least - sparse. Kate was talking to him totally unaware of his attire until he turned round to walk away. Her mouth dropped and then she started to laugh. His pants had no back to them.

There were plenty of Sunday beach goers. Families, crew, locals enjoying their Sunday afternoon. Earlier I had seen Kerbooci around - a very tall, gangly man- walking the beach with a handful of bags with white powder. Andy told me that this same guy had offered him a random “sniff” in the toilet of a bar a couple of nights earlier. He had seen others accept but made a big point of saying “no way. I don‘t take that stuff .” Suddenly and out of the blue it seemed Kerbooci came at Jacko with a big stick - pushing him to the ground, grinding his face into the sand then standing over him shouting with the stick poised over his head.

Kate, Jed and the rest of our party very pointedly turned away. They warned me I should stay out of the way too but I found myself pulled towards Jacko. I was very scared for Jacko but felt totally powerless to intervene as that stick looked very dangerous. After much shouting (for gods sake Jacko just be quiet, do you want to get hit?) it turned out it was all posturing but Kerbooci was definitely spoiling for a fight. Kate told me that he wanted us to intervene so he had an excuse to hit a white man. Apparently he has been in and out of prison most of his life for GBH and drugs. He is the scariest man I have ever come across (and I have been known to stop fights by wading into the middle and yelling) and I can assure you that I will always give him a very wide berth.

After Kerbooci had left I went to Jacko with a bottle of juice and from that moment I was his saviour. The guy needs looking after - bare footed, about four rotten teeth left, practically no clothes, almost a skeleton. No one is able to tell me why his body is so deformed - he looks like he has been in an accident or perhaps he has the bends. The guys here fish for Conch by free diving and, if they are anything like the sponge divers in Greece, a good dive is when you come up with bleeding ears. Fay has seen Kerbooci come up after a free dive with five large conch shells in each hand. He must be able to stay down a very long time to be able to carry out that feat. Perhaps the lack of oxygen combined with drugs is the reason for his horribly erratic behaviour.

There are other deformities I see - young men with bowed legs and after a bit of research I wonder if it is caused by a form of rickets, apparently there is a gene that prevents Vitamin D being metabolised correctly which causes bowing of the legs. If caught early enough they can be given Vitamin D in a form that can be used correctly by the body and the bowing corrects itself.

The island is filling up with tourists. December to April is when the tourists and boats visit here. It is amazing how the place has changed in the short time we have been here. Apart from the noise levels, number of people and increased traffic the other noticeable difference is the smell. Unfortunately many of the hotels and bars do not have adequate sewage processing power. Most have either a small septic tank or simply a pipe straight to the sea or the nearest ditch. Planning permission is supposedly contingent on proper sewage treatment but it seems that no one ensures it happens. Sewage treatment is expensive and everyone seems to be prepared to turn a blind eye (and a bunged up nose I assume) so the businesses (many run by a white person who should know better) continue to discharge.

As well as raw toilet sewage spilling from the land, grey water is not considered sewage and so both boats and all buildings (including ours) discharge this straight from the source. Unfortunately this water is generally full of chemicals which, if not removed and because of their high oxygen demand, cause anaerobic bacteria activity which in turn causes smelly, slim and stagnant water. Well the rest is left to your imagination.

I attended the Yacht Club AGM and it turns out that parents are withdrawing their children from sailing lessons because of their fears about sewage in the sailing waters. The yacht club has decided to do something about it and guess who volunteered to be on the action group!!

Things happen very slowly on this island. In a way it is not surprising given the heat and humidity. It is difficult to work when the heat is turned to high. Andy is being amazing - out early, touting for business or actually working on a boat and then out again in the evening to have a drink and a chat with crew he has previously made contact with. Me however, I do very little by comparison. Observe, write, study a very little bit, shop at the food markets, cook, read, swim and sail twice a week. I have started a tiny vegetable garden - lettuce and courgettes to start with. This weekend I am helping amazing Elizabeth to raise funds for her sailing academy for the local kids. She is the 67 year old commodore of AYC who looks, behaves and moves like a lady half her age. She is rehearsing for a show at the moment where she dances the can-can (and she does it very well).

So another Bea view of Antiguan life!

Lost passports, HIV and sex

2010-12-05T06:55:00.000-08:00

Monday November 29th

Last night we found two passports on the beach. It was Sunday evening and the beach had been very busy, we had gone there for our sunset swim. The people remaining on the beach were finishing off their picnics and packing to leave. The passports were in the sand under the bench where we always leave our towel when we swim. They had obviously fallen out of someone’s pocket.

We looked at them - brand new Jamaican passports of a young couple. They entered Antigua 5 days ago and had no other stamps but their boarding passes were slipped in the front covers. We looked at each other. What to do? Somehow we were reluctant to trust the police to locate the owners but we did not feel we could just leave them. After our swim we decided to ask in the small beach restaurant if they recognised the owners and amazingly they did. They had been the first customers of the day. Then unfolded a story we were not expecting to hear.

Often Jamaicans, it seems, come here “on holiday” and never intend to go home. They are trying to escape the violence on the island and see Antigua as a safe alternative. The manager in the restaurant did not want us to take the passports to the police for a very different reason to ours. If the police and immigration found that these people were here illegally it would mean that they would have to go home …”I would like to give the poor young people a chance. We have a Jamaican working here - I will see if she can trace these people first.”

Later in the day I walked past three young men clearing a building site. One was talking in a language that was not English or Caribbean English. I stopped to ask - “Spanish, he is speaking Spanish” one of them offered. “Where are you guys from?” I was feeling curious now that I had heightened awareness of the mix of people that find their way to Antigua. “the Dominican Republic”. We started to chat - I had so many questions and he shyly offered to call to my house to chat in his lunch break.

Ambe is 24 years old, a slight young man, quietly spoken and a shy manner. His hair is tightly plaited to his head and he wears a Caribbean hair-net to protect it while he is at work. He told me that the people from the Dominican Republic come here for the same reason as the Jamaicans. To get away from the violence, find a safe life. Antigua is seen as a good place because of the tourists and the yachts. He himself lives with his father who is from here, his stepmother, step brother and his Nigerian girlfriend in a big house (“it has four rooms, plenty of space for us all”) in St Johns. He has not seen his mother since he was five years old as she is still in Dominican Republic. They keep in touch by talking on the phone and sending photos to each other. The young man I met who spoke no English is a distant cousin “I am teaching him to speak English, Do you want to learn Spanish?”

One of the things Ambe and I talked about was children. We asked me about mine and I explained they were his age. He commented that I must then be about 35. I laughed and said that was not possible unless I was a really young mum, to which he answered that his people had children really young, “they do not plan”. “But you do, you have no children. And so did I”.

I am an avid reader of the Daily Observer, the very informative daily Antiguan paper. Sex, pregnancy and Aids/HIV are a constant subject of discussion. Apparently there has been an increase in the number of HIV infections (49 this year all in the age range 15-35) and an increase in teenage pregnancy this year over last showing that young people are not using condoms. Vince (our skipper on our weekend racing yacht who has a local wife) told us it is not unusual for a man here to father 80 children and that the mothers of these children are proud that the father is so virile. With this attitude it is very hard to change sexual behaviour.

Most of the people we socialise with are white, ex-pats. The island is very divided - rich white, poor black with a few notable exceptions and I am trying to understand why. The paper perhaps holds some clues. The boys drop out of education early. The girls are very studious, I quote from The Daily Observer … “Females seem to be in the driving seat in the acquisition of higher education and form the bulk of the intelligentsia, especially in the teaching profession.” Reporting on a conference on the subject of gender imbalance, and I quote again “ To some in the audience, the question that exercised their minds was, “Where have all the men gone?” The reply was an embarrassing “Perhaps to the jails?” it’s a chilling but real prospect……the inhabitants of our jails are extremely and overwhelmingly male dominated. This leads us to speculate what would have been the result if the inhabitants of our jails had opted for a life of positive intellectual contribution to the development of the Caribbean and our nation.”

But then something happens to the females … “Why have the females with their vast acquisition of superior education, not asserted themselves and more openly and positively, taken up their leadership roles in society? Have they disappeared into the inner workings of the system and are just biding their time? Or, has the society been male dominated for such a long time that they have laid low, accepting male dominance as being the natural order of things?…..”

I make no apologise for quoting the editorial of the paper, it illustrates many aspects of the society here and I am finding it very enlightening.

Of the ex-pats here the vast majority are “property developers” - this does concern me as there surely is a limit to how many new properties need to be developed. Some are already feeling the pinch, having sunk all their savings into property and now not able to sell or let. But still people speculate. As Vince said - “if it seems too good to be true - it probably is”.

Anyway, island life continues. I continue to learn about my surroundings and will continue to write about things that amuse, worry or interest me when the mood takes me. The main lesson here is that you do not need to be mad to live here but it certainly helps to be eccentric!

Sailing Regattas, water and farming

2010-11-23T08:48:00.000-08:00

Sat 20th Nov 2010

Vince picked us up at 7.30 Saturday morning. We had been asked at short notice if we could crew on his 35 foot yacht in a two day regatta over in Jolly Harbour. We had jumped at the chance and were more or less ready though, after a big night with first Kate and Jed and then the Windrose crew the previous night, Andy was a little slow. We climbed into his truck - everyone drives them here as an ordinary car really wouldn’t survive long - and started the ¾ hr drive.

Falmouth Harbour is at the South end of Antigua. We were driving to the mid-west - just below St. Johns. About half way on our inland route we were waved down by three young girls standing by the side of the road next to an assorted pile of plastic containers “we will help the girls with their water“ Vince said as he slowed down. We all got out to help load the containers - old yogurt pots, water cooler bottles, bowls with and without lids - all full of water, into the back of the truck and helped the girls up too. They were happy with their lift and told us where to stop - outside a ramshackle, half built group of structures. Two young men appeared and half heartedly helped us unload.

Vince explained that there had been a water stand in the village of Old Road but recently it had been disconnected by the government run utility company in an attempt to force those not yet connected to mains water to pay to be connected. They would then have metered water. However many people here live on the breadline and cannot afford to pay the connection charge so are forced to collect water from a random unpoliced tap. It is the girls job and if necessary they would wait all day until someone picked them and their water up. They couldn’t have carried it home.

Vince is a very interesting man. He sailed here 12 years ago on his classic wooden yacht for a four day stay and ended up marrying a local lady and taking on her three children. His wife had been abandoned by the father of her children and he has quite an insight into Antiguan life. He was able to answer a lot of my questions including questions about water and farming.

The problem with Antigua, he told us, is that there is no water here except for rain. Apparently the sugar cane from Antigua was not even from here - it was just a staging post to get round some trade agreement. So very little does get grown here. Yes there is a fruit and veg market where everything is organic because that is how things are grown here. Sadly for us this is in St John and is quite a trek as we have decided not to have a car. Now that there is a desalination plant more could be grown but water is expensive.
On the fishing side, yes there is good fish here AT THE MOMENT but the Chinese have got in on the act and have put street lamps all over the island, including on the jungle road, in exchange for fishing rights. Antigua did not need the street lights - they have a shortage of electricity - so what is that all about?

The fourth member of our crew was Terry - a friend of Keith Richards (guitarist in the Rolling Stones). He looked a bit like him and even had a Rolling Stones tattoo! We made a great, though motley, team and in very windy conditions we performed really well. So well in fact that Seal, skippered by Vince, won her first ever regatta. Vince couldn’t stop smiling!

Tuesday 23rd Nov 2010
Well what with weevils in our cereal and burst water pipes life has been very interesting this morning and it isn’t even 9 o’clock yet!
The morning started as normal. We got up for our morning swim at 7 and saw that the guys clearing the undergrowth from the forest bordering the road near our house were already at work with the digger and strimmers. Apparently the idea is that clearing this will stop muggings and rapists as they will have nowhere to ambush you. Reluctantly we agree that this is a good enough motive though crime is not rife here. As we approached the house we saw a spray of water coming from the pipe as it enters our fence. Our first thought was “which side of the water meter is the leak?” quickly followed by “what a waste of water, we must stop it”. Andy wiggled the pipe and managed to stem the flow. One of the strimmers must have clipped the joint where the mains connects to our water meter.

It was too early to call anyone so we sat down for our fruit salad and muesli breakfast. I looked in my bowl as Andy emptied the remaining muesli into my bowl - it was alive! We picked out as many weevils as we could see, gritted our teeth and ate! As we finished our breakfast with extra protein one of the workmen yelled up at us (this is normal, no one comes up to our door without first attracting our attention and being invited) - the water leak was getting worse. Andy had a meeting so on his way out he tried to jiggle the pipe again but instead of stopping the flow he had a fountain and took the full blast of water on the face and down his front. I was frantically phoning around and was holding on for someone to answer my 211 emergency water line call. It took 15 minutes for them to take the call. “You have to stop the flow” I was told. “How?” “Tie something round it!” In the meantime Andy left still wet.

Luckily by now Jerry the gardener had arrived and he put a bucket on the pipe and sat on it! But this solution also had limited success and soon the water pressure got the better of him. At this point a police car drew up. I ran down to talk to him. “Find a rope”. Jerry found a rope. The rather beefy policeman grabbed the pipe, bent it double and tied the rope around it. Thus the water stopped and he hadn‘t even got damp! “I used to work for the water company”. Well, Jerry and I both learnt something today! Fortunately we have a fully functioning water cistern after Dave the plumber sorted it last week and plenty of rain water so we can wait for a repair. I wonder how long it will be before the water utility comes to fix our pipe. Dave reckons it will be weeks.

It is a wet day today and Jerry, who was soaked through by the water pipe leak already, came to shelter in the house and change into one of Andys T-shirts when the heavens opened. We started to discuss the economy and farming. He told me that in the 70’s and 80’s the hillsides around this house were covered in fields growing all sorts of crops. But then the farmers were told that the tourist industry was the future and people stopped working on the land and working in the hotels. “No one wants to put their hands in no dirt”. But with unemployment high and things so expensive “backyard farming as we call it here” is on the increase. “I used to stop for lunch, buy myself some bread and cheese but now you have to be clever about how you eat. I fill my belly with some porridge in the morning and make enough to go home for lunch. Bread used to cost maybe1.25EC now it cost me over 3EC. ”

He told me that there was a project of an acre or two where people were encouraged to grow their own. I am not sure if it still exists. He was lamenting the supermarkets “with everything wrapped in plastic, you could be in America now”. My soul mate!

It is race night tonight so I am watching the wind. At the moment there is over 20 knots - too much for me though my sailing buddies are telling me I have to race! We will see.

Antigua - our next home

2010-11-22T17:10:00.000-08:00

In business for a year now, and SeaSystems.biz moves its base for the next six months to ...

... Falmouth, Antigua (view from Shirley Heights)

This is our little place – Tony’s Cottage

We can see the comings and goings every day from our deck of potential customers for my little business here. THAT’s a bit big!!

B wasted no time joining Antigua Yacht Club – the smallest mast next to the largest mast of Mirabella V

Meet Vince – our friendly skipper from Suffolk of ‘Seal’ for the Jolly Harbour weekend regatta

On the way to the regatta Vince stopped to collect this small collection of girls with their large collection of vessels of drinking water ...

... Vince thinks the village we delivered them to had its standpipe shut off to force the inhabitants to connect to main water (to be billed).

The girls and their family live in Old Road in the only remaining jungle on the Island.

Total contrast, back to our western leisure pursuits – which means fixing electronics for me (well, lashing it up for 2 days).

All happy on board before the first race – Terry is from Devon (right character!)

How perfect is that (committee boat)?!

Slowly B is coming round to liking Antigua ... a bit!

Showers kept moving through for dramatic skies during 7 races over 2 days.

Those huts will cost you >$1000 per night ... more contrast!

Discussing the collision on the last race start line (our fault!)

We still won our class out of 7 boats; Vince receives a plaque from the Minister of Sport. Vince had never won before so he could not stop smiling!

Special prizes for the young sailors on board for the regatta – great encouragement!

Maltese Falcon arrives in Falmouth while we race round the corner (sorry – I took this in Palma!).

The showers keep up today; no two days alike. Pigeon beach there is where we swim morning and evening... visitors welcome!

Settling in - First Week in Antigua

2010-11-19T10:43:00.000-08:00

We are settling into our life in Antigua. To a certain extent it is like being on Deep Blue but now our boat is a cottage and the deck is a veranda. We live our life in a very similar way. Swims every morning and evening and work during the day. A bit of socialising in the evenings.
As there is no sailing involved my work is getting to understand how things happen here, writing and reading while Andy is currently wrapping up a couple of projects he started in the Mediterranean. He has yet to start looking for work here.

Tony’s Cottage is a three bed roomed wooden built house, very similar to those seen in Aussie, New Zealand and any number of hot places. It is built into the hill overlooking Pigeon Beach, on two levels, of horizontal wooden slats with a hugely wide veranda on two sides of the top level (the lower floor is just one bedroom with en-suite), all covered by a corrugated iron roof. When it rains the water is collected from the roof and channelled into a cistern. The toilet drains into a septic tank and the grey water drains onto the garden. Cooking is by bottled gaz on a large cooker and we have the luxury of a huge fridge-freezer and a enormous top loader washing machine. All American big and slightly over the top for a little wooden hut!

We arrived Friday evening by Virgin and were met by Jed. Jed and Katie have lived on the island for many years and they have been very kind to us since we first met them in January. Jed already had the key for Tony’s Cottage so he drove us and our four huge suitcases straight here. Within an hour of him dropping us off we had unpacked, sorted out where everything lived, had the one beer in the fridge (it was literally a huge empty cold fridge with one beer in it!) and walked to one of Andy’s regular restaurants. Half the people in there seemed to know him and were very welcoming to us both, so it felt like we had come home!

Jed and Katie kindly came to pick us up first thing Saturday morning to take us to Baileys - the local shop that sells everything and we bought the basics. Little is priced so it is very hard to work out what to buy. Food is very expensive here as practically everything is imported. Even milk comes from Europe, fruit and veg comes mainly from Guadalupe and USA while goodness knows where the meat comes from.

I like to eat local food but all I could find labelled was “local lettuce”. However, I also bought potatoes, papaya, bananas, spinach and herbs which I think may have been locally grown. I am uncertain what the staple is here at the moment and it is hard to find out because the restaurants and shops cater mainly for us temporary residents. There is plenty of good imported food available but out of our price bracket for everyday food.

We always live modestly so over our first weekend I wanted to work out how everything worked in the house. I have to understand where things come from and where they go, so by Monday morning I had a long list of questions to ask the agent and anyone who had lived in Antigua for a while. These included such questions as “where does our waste water go”; “how do we use the cistern water as we seem to be using island water”; “the cooker doesn’t burn properly, how do I get it fixed”; “where does the refuse end up”; “is there recycling on the island”; “how do we get our dustbin emptied”; “how do I stop heating the water”; “where is the hot water tank” and most important “what is the code for the wireless internet???”

The result of all these questions was a series of tradesman through the house. Our first visitor was Andy, a tall goofy affable young black man. He came to sort the cooker. We started to chat and after I offered a beer he sat on the veranda and looked like he was settled for the evening. He explained what he was going to do for the cooker - look it up on the internet - and then we just chatted about the view and where he lived. As he left he asked me where I came from. “Falmouth Cornwall!”. He replied “so we are probably related - as the people who called this place Falmouth came from your Falmouth - check your family tree!”. I took this as a compliment, I was accepted as a sister!

Our next visitor was Dave the plumber to sort out the cistern water pump which had obviously not worked for many months. We both warmed to this small, rotund, neat bearded English man who came to Antigua 20 years ago for 4 days in his yacht. He had a dry sense of humour - something that we have noticed seems to be an essential quality for any ex-pat who lives here for any length of time. “What have you done to my carefully planned water system”. “Stop fiddling with it” and more in the same vein.

He had to drain the pump so kept the water tap open. I found a bucket and caught the water. “You’re not on a boat now - the island makes plenty. Stop worrying.” He advised us to put a gallon of laundry bleach into the cistern before drinking it. “What do you think you drink in England?” I wanted a second opinion.

In the shops some are friendly others not so. I am learning to go to the friendly assistants. Phil in the dockyard food shop is a lovely boy. Camp as anything but seriously friendly and he has told me that now I am his friend I cannot go to anyone else for help. I told him I was buying the laundry bleach for the cistern. He was disbelieving. “Boil the water if you must … but drink that … no way” shaking his immaculate head. I left it in the shop and we are still drinking island water.

Everywhere you go someone is always calling out to you. We are the new faces in town and all want to know who we are “are you on a boat” “how long are you here?” “six months - what are you doing” … black and white the same questions. Some of the locals are less easy to impress even when buying from them and I have tried really hard to be friendly to one or two without much success on the smile front. Never mind, I guess they will be friendly in their own time.

One of the first things I did was join the sailing club. We had met Elizabeth the commodore -a vivacious English lady - at a meal at Jed and Katies. She is amazing. She used to run her own charter yacht - a 36ft Swan - until she married Peter in June (they are both well in their 60’s) and has been commodore of Antigua Yacht Club for 4 years now. She has set up a sailing academy within the club for local school kids and has several instructors - all islanders - to teach them. One of the instructors’ Carl is a leading light - highly thought of here - and the two of them go to the schools to drum up their students. They take in kids aged between 8 and 12 and they must be able to swim in deep water. Islanders do not swim so this is a challenge and now all the kids are learning. She has 160 children who attend the academy and she has asked me to help her fund raise among the yachts. Something I am happy to help with. I raced four short back-to-back races on Tuesday in a laser. There were about 15 of us out, me the only female but otherwise a mix of yachties, ex-pats and islanders. Suffice to say I did not make a total fool of myself and had a lot of fun. Amazingly there was a guy racing I recognised from Restronguet Sailing Club - Jamie - his first race here too. How bazaar is that!!

Windrose arrived Tuesday night - I spotted her the wrong side of Nelsons Dock when I went to find Aubrey the veg seller and then I spotted a Windrose Tee shirt - Jason. I made myself known and was taken over by tender so met up with Errol for the first time, Pippa, Nat and Nicky. Good to see them all here safely. They were all nursing hangovers so left them to it.
Tonight we will be celebrating one week in Antigua - already! I could get used to this life though there are two major down side. The mosquitoes here are VICIOUS and we are both covered in bites. Hopefully we will build an immunity soon and they will stop itching us. Also it is very humid here - so much so that water spilt on the deck takes hours and hours to dry. But a small price to pay for living on a tropical island.

Wierd happenings and Packing up

2010-10-24T02:47:00.000-07:00

18th October 2010 Packing up
We have been thanking our lucky stars that Deep Blue survived and neither of us suffered a direct hit with the lightening. We have no electronics but this is all replaceable and the insurance will cover it. It is an inconvenience because it is now not a simple matter of packing up and leaving but could be so much worse!

Andy has a full list of all the failed devices and it is a very long one! The most puzzling and inconvenient is the fridge and the most disastrous is our total lack of alternator without which we cannot cruise. We need to check our rigging - because of the direct hit at the top of the mast we are worried the shroud terminals may be damaged.

However, having said all the above, I must report that we have had the most weird two or three days - much of it involving rotting flesh. We began to wonder if actually we had been transported to another dimension in the storm.

It started in Bozborun, the place we were making for when we were stuck by the lightening. We had gone there to catch up with our unusual friends Richard and Charles - last seen on Kalimnos buying the worlds annual production of gold after being expelled from Turkey. Charles at the time had something in his foot after diving bare footed and was refusing to go to the doctor. Since then he has had to have his foot amputated and we wanted to see how he was. Well the saga of our friends’ woos continues.

R.... is living on his boat in Marmaris and C...... is staying with a Turkish / Scottish couple Lynn and N who run a small restaurant on the front at Bozborun. Actually they are looking after C... as he has been very poorly and has just come out of hospital. Poor C.... is really not looking after himself. His foot stump has never healed properly after a year and he thought he was going to loose the lower part of his leg. Then he got extreme food poisoning and ended up in hospital only because the Lynn insisted. She said he literally looked like death and was passing out when the ambulance collected him.

He was pumped full of antibiotics, re-hydrated and not only did he recover but his stump also felt the best it has ever been. He continues to take the antibiotics and is now optimistic about his leg. However, he is definitely depressed and Lynn voiced the concerns we felt last time we saw him. “He has no one. No wife, children, parents or home.”

Now we are back in Marmaris - the weather is terrible with continuous storms passing over us making us glad we are safely in port. The insurance company sent us a surveyor and here starts the next chapter of weird things happening to us.

John M-T described himself as looking like Father Christmas but the man who arrived looked more like an emaciated tramp. We already knew that he was 71 but the white haired and long bearded man that presented himself looked 100 years old. He was extremely frail, with filthy clothes, a pipe in his mouth and his left arm heavily bandaged and in a sling. He is very well spoken and obviously 100% sharp but very disabled. We helped him aboard and were immediately hit by a terrible smell. Andy gagged and had to rush below. I took a closer look at the bandage which looked recent but was badly stained from a weeping wound, as was the sling and his clothing. “what happened?” “it is a long story..” and then he proceeded to tell it.

Some years ago he got a growth on his hand. He obviously left it and it grew. Eventually he actually visited a doctor and after being passed around has been told that it is not cancer but a fungal infection. However his fingers have started to “disappear” as he put it. Two weeks ago a doctor told him he needed 15 blood transfusions as his blood is poisoned but as he could not reassure John that the blood was free of HIV and hepatitis, John refused (though it may have been more the cost that stopped him at 150TL each transfusion). We are convinced that he has gangrene and that his situation is very serious.

We had no food on board except biscuits which he ate with relish and he also downed two very strong and sweet mugs of tea. Andy gave him his report of damage on board and loads of photos so he did not have to do too much work but he still insisted on struggled below to have a look before sitting down and there he stayed. Eventually he left the boat after talking to us for 4 hours! I felt bad that we were so pleased he had left but once he had gone we HAD to get off the boat ourselves - it stank so badly I was not sure I wanted to go back on board … ever!

We sprayed the boat with perfume, burnt mosquito coils … anything with a strong smell. We took all the cushions out and beat them clean and stayed off Deep Blue as much as possible for the next day or two. However, we now had a moral dilemma. John was destitute and needs the survey money but he really is not in a fit state to help us properly. We decided that once he had put in his report and the insurance company had Oked the claim we would report the situation to the insurance company. We are sort of helped by the fact that John, as of Monday, does not even have a Turkish residents visa. I have (heroically) offered that he should come back to the UK with me next week (did I really mean to say that to him?) and also offered to lend him some money. So far his stiff upper lip will not allow either but I think our concern has galvanised him into action and he is talking about getting back to the UK. There are many reasons why he is reluctant - he will probably lose his home of 14 years, he may not be allowed back into Turkey, he has no relatives in the UK except a sick 80 year old cousin and two nephews (on whom he could not possibly impose), he has very little money and he never paid taxes in the UK.
Makes you realise how lucky we are! We have our health, our wonderful extended family, some money in the bank and somewhere to live.

I had to ignore most of the advise John gave us as it turned out to be out of date. I also got rather more involved than I wanted with the marina politics (mainly because John was trying to help us) but I have managed to find a good team of workers who are doing their best to sort Deep Blue out before I leave next week. Andy has been tied up with a job on Spirit and then goes to Nice for another job and, although the insurance company has offered to pay him, he cannot be involved very much. His view is that so long as all the wires are chased and the equipment is fixed in place he can sort out mistakes later in his own time.

So our life continues to be one big adventure!

Direct Lightening Strike

2010-10-24T02:44:00.000-07:00

Lightening strike 16th October 2010
This is turning into one of the most eventful 2 weeks of my life - certainly Deep Blues most eventful two weeks. First we got water in the diesel, then line around the anchor and prop and now poor Deep Blue has had a direct hit by a lightening strike and simultaneously we had acrid smoke coming off the top and bottom of the mast.

The day started gloriously. We were in Knidos with Cenk and his writer friend. Last night Cenk cooked us a most delicious meal and we shared a bottle of Kos Rose which we had slipped into Kos to buy en-route from Bodrum. This morning we woke to the magic of Knidos - an ancient Roman site - and swam in the clear waters as the sun rose. We were not hungry, so after a shower, we upped anchor and motored towards Simi en-route to Bozburun, a trip of nearly 40 miles. We motored for a couple of hours before the wind got up just enough to hoist the Genniker, auto helm on and a bit of sunbathing while we sailed along at 5-6 knots. All was good in the world.

As we approached Simi we could see clouds gathering - very black clouds - and could hear rumblings of thunder. We decided that it would be prudent to take down the Genniker as it gets a bit of a handful above 10 knots. Andy went below to have a snooze and I watched the gathering clouds. Simi, now behind us, slowly disappeared from view as the clouds got lower and nearer. Thunder crashed around us. Then the rain came - I had my olies on but still the water crept up the arms. Now the lightening was flashing around us just seconds before the claps of thunder. It was getting quite scary. Andy told me to stay in the cockpit. Stupidly I ignored him because I wanted to use the lovely clean water to clean the decks and was on the side deck when CRASH…. I felt a jolt right through me and smelt burning. The top of the mast was smoking like a fired gun and I thought the sail was on fire. Down below, the main cabin light was blown off its fixing and brought down the head-lining. Smoke filled the cabin and then dissipated. It was dramatic to say the least and I was very shaken.

Not aware of the disaster below I called to Andy to help me on deck. We rolled the foresail on the Furlex in the pouring rain as the wind increased. We looked up the mast - the aerial was gone as was the navigation light and the wind-ex. Andy was soaked and went back down below to see what else was broken.

Well basically everything is f****d. We have no self-steering, no depth-sounder, wind speed or direction, no AIS, VHF radio, radar and no navigation lights. The main cabin light is gone, stereo and fridge are all blown up. It is total devastation. By some miracle the chart plotter and GPS have survived, the boat batteries seem OK and our computers survived despite being plugged in. We needed the chart plotter as we were now completely surrounded by cloud and were approaching rocks and islands.

We limped into Bozburun as the skies cleared and arrived here to find that the storm had missed them and life was normal just 5nm away from where we were struck by the lightening!

Stormy Weather

2010-10-15T02:56:00.000-07:00

Stormy Weather

Andy declared himself officially mad - and I had to concur. We had just arrived in Turgutreis Marina, North Bodrum when we had planned to sail to Simi which had been in completely the opposite direction and he had just been told the extortionate cost of the marina. But we now had no choice - it was blowing dogs of chains and getting dark.

The day seemed to start of as normal. We had been staying for a couple of days in one of our very favourite places on the Datca Peninsula, Palamut, where they still grow almonds and olives and where two summers previously we had watched them build the villages’ first road out of bricks. Our very friendly German neighbour warned us that there was a storm forecast but after checking three different sources where only lots of rain but little wind was predicted we decided we would stick to the plan. We left just before lunch to raucous laughter as my German lady friends understood my comment about Andy lifting the anchor by hand just for me (it builds his muscles and flattens his stomach) while Andy complained that he had 50 metres of chain to lift because I had told him to drop the anchor too soon . We made an impressive exit - fenders were tidied, warps coiled and sails were already up as we left the harbour.

Once clear of the harbour we realised very quickly that the wind was beaufort 3-4, blowing on our nose plus, and this was much more serious, the swell was building from the East. Nothing like any forecast. The wind was not an issue but the swell was. Our plan was to sneak into Simi town, stay until the storm passed over the next two days while buying gifts of Greek Rose wine and eating pork before sailing to Knidos to meet Cenk and his friends who were sailing from Bodrum, and for whom the gift was intended. However, Simi town faces East and we realised that the swell inside the harbour there would be untenable. Andy made a decision “you know what we have always said B, never sail into the wind. Lets put the spinnaker up and sail to Bodrum - Cenk is there and it is the same distance as Simi.”

We turned round, put up the spinnaker and were soon sailing at over 7 knots with the wind directly behind us, surfing occasionally down the waves at over 8 knots. I then went below to measure the distance. It was not 15nm but well over 25nm. Well if we could keep our speed up we would still arrive before dusk.

It was a fun sail and we made good time. As we sailed past Kos Andy was texting Cenk. We had 12 miles to go when Cenk sent a message asking to which marina we were going “there are four in Bodrum, I am in Turgutreis”. We checked the chart. This was much further West than we were heading. A quick phone call to the Marina to check there was room and we changed course for the second time that day.

By now we had the spinnaker down and as we rounded the headland for our last 2nm to the entrance to the marina, wham… the wind hit Deep Blue. Unfortunately our wind speed is under reading (I need to make a trip up the mast to service it) so we do not know the wind speed but it was over 30 knots. We had to put the engine on full throttle so we could turn the boat through 90 degrees to get the sails down and in. We were very relieved to get inside the marina around half an hour before dark.

Cenk came to see us bearing gifts of music, perfume and sweets and we shared Santorini white wine with him and gave him our last bottle of Santorini rose to take away. He is such an interesting man and we had a wide ranging discussion. He is with a friend ”a very famous Turkish writer” - who writes sailing books and articles. They are making an amateur documentary about Halikarnas Balikç isi who was a Cretan fisherman, poet and philosopher who moved to Turkey in the 50’s and was banished to Bodrum after becoming a political activist. He loved Bodrum and was very happy to be banished here! He died in 1973. Cenk loves to read and discuss philosophy so I understand why he is enjoying this project so much.

Talk turned to the ARC party, as it always does. As I have already said - the more educated Turks are very afraid that if the ARC party get elected again (and they have already been in power 8 years so far) that democracy will be eroded. He says they have been very clever in the way they are subtly changing the country, starting in the East where people are much more religious and generally uneducated and slowly slowly exerting their Islamic rules as they move West, putting detractors and political opponents in prison on trumped up charges which they hold up and say “look what you get if you vote for these guys”. Cenk feels also that the problem is that there is no visionary leader or party as an alternative which means the opposition vote is split, allowing ARC to win even if the majority do not want them. We compared Old Labour with the Ataturk Party and the need for a Tony Blair figure to turn it into a New Ataturk Party!

Back in Karaca Sogut (KS), gulf of Gokova

2010-10-15T02:32:00.000-07:00

It really felt like going home, arriving back in Karaca Sogut, where we spent 3 months winter 2008/2009. This happy pontoon is known locally as "China Town"!

Kiwi Peter was a star coming with his fuel pump to help me get the water out of the fuel - I won't do THAT again!!!

Peter, Barbara and Wifi the cat (who keeps coming and going) - year 4 of their 7 year round world trip.

Haluk owns the Global marina we wintered in. Here he waves us off, aboard his 60' expedition boat which may (or may not) be bound for Antarctica next year.

The fat bloke's hand on the right is mine... surrounded as we are by pine forest and beehives, it was inevitable one of us would get stung one day. It swelled up further!

The beautiful Kuyuk buku is just west 20miles of KS. It was here we got the fishing net tangled up in our prop and dragged our anchor in the entrance in the near gale - next day calm, this catamaran actually ran aground in exactly the same place another boat had the day before. An interesting location!

The local fisherman camp ...

Here's the small flotilla that came out to help tow us in at dusk. So typically Turkish in their kindness.

My improvised underwater breathing apparatus to get ...

... all that fishing net untangled from the prop!

Further west, still in the gulf, Kormen was quite a desolate, almost abandoned place with its lee shore covered in the inevitable (it seems) plastic debris.

Rounding the west tip of the Datcha peninsular, you are no doubt you are in Turkey from the flag on the lighthouse. Our friend Altan from Palamut used to run here to visit his granddad, the lighthouse keeper.

Work on board in Palamut for 2 days; here on some SeaSeastem.biz preparation for my next but one Superyacht job - PLC programming!

We rashly (maybe) turned right out of Palamut, rather than left and ended up seeing our friend Cenk, storm bound in Turgutreis for 2 nights!

Rescue at sea and water in diesel

2010-10-11T12:06:00.000-07:00

Village Life

We arrived back in Turkey on Wednesday 29th September 2010, sailing into Karaça Sögüt on the 1st October - one year to the day since we left Deep Blue for our “new” life in the UK. It was so lovely to be back in such a familiar place with people we knew around us. This time we decided to use the village pontoon rather than Global Sailing Club where we over wintered 2008-9 with Halluk, Chris and Deniz. This meant it was easier for us to see all our friends and be part of village life.

We have never been to K-S in the summer and we had our first taste of what it is like to have a constant stream of gullets filled with tourists invading the village - but more of that later. It was also our first taste of the village in season - ie two in season only “supermarket”, two new summer only restaurants and some of the houses occupied and both pontoons full of visiting yachts . K-S is a small village where usually there is one restaurant and sorry shop run by Melek (Angel) and her daughter-in-law. We have eaten at Meleks restaurant several times in the past and decided we would go and see her on our first night back.

Melek is probably my age, uneducated and married to a VERY unpleasant man, she is mother to two grown-up sons and works day and night to the point of exhaustion. She is a good Turkish cook and her meals are generally well priced and perfectly acceptable. Not Cordon Bleu but very edible. Her only help is her smiley daughter-in-law. The guys on “China Town” pontoon (where we were staying) have had to take her to hospital in the past after her husband beat her up and she has several broken teeth. Her husband wears a very large gold ring (knuckle duster to break teeth) and waddles around shaking the hands of important customers then disappears. I had the misfortune of having to decide if I really wanted to shake his fat hand.

When I arrived at the restaurant she recognised me and took me into her kitchen to see what she was cooking tonight. An older Turkish man with a ponytail was already in the kitchen and he spoke English. She had obviously asked him to translate. “She says you can have the three fish for 25TL - cooked with salad and bread”. “OK” I say, “but these are frozen, can I have those?” pointing to a bowl of small but fresh fish. “No, they are mine! You can have anything but those - I caught them”.

Later we sat eating the (accidentally) frozen but now delicious fish and the same guy walks to our table and brings two more cooked fish as a gift. How very Turkish that was. He also gave us a message from Melek, pleased she had a translator. Earlier we had shown that we actually only had 35TL cash. 25 for her meal and 10 for the dolmus to get to town to get more cash in the morning. Her message was that if we wanted a beer or anything else then - no problem, we can pay tomorrow. Again - only the Turks would do that. What a huge contrast to the Greeks. We of course, took her up on the offer!

As we finished our meal we wanted to know the time of the morning dolmus. Melek needed a translator and this time, as the fishermen had left, she asked the only other customers - two elderly men. We fell into conversation and were invited to join them for a beer. It turned out they were brothers, the older had lived and worked in the USA as an oil geologist and the other still owned interests in a UK based arms business. The older (Turkish / American) guy was 79 and looked good for a few more years while his younger (British / Turk) was not a well man though only in his late 60s. It turned out that the older brothers American wife had recently died - very sad - while the younger had had two English wives. They both now lived in Ankara (“not a nice place”) and owned a holiday house in the village. Talk turned to politics and their view reflected all our other educated (but in the minority) Turks view that the current government is turning to Islam and that the next election was going to be a turning point that seriously concerned them. “Our father fought for the freedom, Westernisation, of this country”. They were particularly concerned about issues that pointed to the direction the current president was going like the wearing of the scarf (his wife wears full burka to official events though it is currently illegal to wear even a scarf in Universities but this law is about to be repealed). “Imagine it being illegal for us to be sitting here having this conversation and drinking this Raki”.

The dolmus is a service that has always puzzled us a bit. Our friend Byram had explained to us that the three or even four drivers, who all own their own van, share the school contract money but any money they earn from extra passengers or transporting of vegetables and bread was their own. Often we were the extra passengers and this was the case when we took the dolmus into Marmaris to visit Spirit of the East - the superyacht Andy has some work on later this month. We didn’t have the right money and the driver didn’t have change so told us not to worry but to pay later. It really doesn’t occur to anyone that we may not pay. On our return journey he did not ask for the money - just waited for us to offer it. On the way back to K-S and after a broken English conversation about his children his mobile phone rang and we could tell it was bad news. He stopped the van and started shouting in a frantic way down the phone. The only words we understood were Karaç a Sö gü t and Marmaris. He made several calls - apologising to us but explaining it was indeed bad news. His English was very basic and we found it hard to understand all he told us but we are sure that he told us that the school contract had just been taken from the dolmus’s “no more dolmus” he kept saying. Poor man. He had just been telling us how he had two young children - a daughter of 13 and a boy of eight and how he was hoping to take his son to visit his brother who lives in New York next year. Later next day I saw him and the other dolmus drivers talking earnestly together in the car park off the pontoon. I hope it works out for those guys. What will they do?

We had a rather major mishap with Deep Blue. We had run out of water and Andy, who had his mind on preparatory work for Spirit of the East, was not concentrating while he topped up the tanks. I was cooking below as we had dinner guests arriving in about 1 hour - I smelt fuel and leapt up on deck to see - horror - the water hose in the half full FUEL tank and diesel just starting to spill out. We now had 25 litres diesel and 20 litres water in the same tank. We discussed whether to cancel Peter and Barbara or leave sorting it out to the morning. We decided the later course - besides we needed a pump and they may have one.

I had got talking to Peter on the day of our arrival when I needed to borrow his glasses to read a menu of one of the “summer” restaurants. He was a Kiwi on crutches and I quickly learnt he had damaged his back and was about to return to NZ by air for an operation. He and his wife Barbara were in their 4th year of a 7 year round the world trip and according to their timetable they were supposed to be in Gibraltar. Sadly Peter damaged his back earlier this year (carrying 50 litres of water and missing his step on a typical Greek quay) and he had been hoping that rest would sort the problem so they had taken it easy this summer. They had a passenger on their yacht - a Turkish one - a feral cat called Wifi. as, like the wifi signal in Yat Marine the cat kept coming and going! WiFi is the proud owner of a European passport, is spayed, got all her jabs and defleaed. Cost a fortune. They al live on a serious, cross oceans 52 foot yacht.

They were surprised Andy admitted to the water/ diesel problem but then Barbara admitted that she had done the same thing but their fuel tanks are somewhat larger than ours. Necessity is the mother of invention and they had built a pump and water separator. Peter would bring it in the morning. FANTASTIC!

I was mortified that we had spilt some diesel in the water here (less than 1 litre but it looks terrible as it spreads. Ironically we put Ecover washing liquid on it to make it sink). I decided that the only way to do our penance was to do something for the community. The ç op (waste) area of the village was in a horrid state. People had been dumping their rubbish on the ground instead of putting it in the bins and there was plastic, rotting food and an unspeakable mess spread by the cats over a wide area. I decided to clean it up so I spent a not very happy hour picking up the rubbish and putting it in the bins while holding my breathe. I also waded and swam to pick up floating plastic. However by the end I was pleased with my efforts.

Next day Peter and Andy worked on separating the diesel from the water and after 3 hours the job was done and the engine worked fine. I had made a young friend on the pontoon called CJ - 20 something cool dude who spoke English with an American accent and dressed a bit like an American gangster to show off his muscles. He kept coming to see how we were getting on - I think he liked practicing his English though he was supposed to be helping repair Eric’s old motor boat and his work colleagues had told him we wouldn’t want to talk to him “leave them in peace”. Later, when Deniz - Halluks daughter, looking very beautiful with her blond hair flowing, wearing a pretty summer dress - came to visit he took a even bigger interest. He was surprised she was called Deniz (a Turkish name meaning sea) and his eyes got even bigger when I told him about her strict Turkish father. I think this appealed to him especially after his experience with an English girl-friend who he told me turned out to be a whore. (We find women in many Turkish films are depicted as either “loose” and are dressed like prostitutes or saints who never have sex, even in marriage.)

All that day gullets were coming and going, several stayed the night with their cargo of American, German and English tourists. We had another meal at Meleks and a peaceful night knowing our water and diesel were now separated. We decided that after 5 days in K-S it was time to go before we stayed for ever (and anyway the holding tank was full!). We needed a couple of things from the shop before we left and I wandered early morning to the shop, past the gullets and past the ç op. Imagine how I felt when I saw rubbish strewn everywhere on the ground while the bins were empty! I was spitting feathers and the first person I saw was a gullet crew member ashore to buy ekmek (bread). I laid into him. I was so angry. He admitted putting rubbish in the ç op but “in the buckets”. I was so angry I spoilt a few tourists breakfasts because I went to each gullet and told them where their crew had put the rubbish and what had happened to it! I wonder if it made a lasting impression - a wild haired, mad English woman angrily talking about rubbish! To give him his due, the first guy I accosted tried really hard to calm me down and be friendly.

We left early, waving au-revoir to Peter, Barbara and Wifi and Halluk on Balina as we passed by. We were on our way to seek wind and windsurfing spots.

Rescue
Yesterday was a traumatic day. It started off well - it was windy and Andy of course wanted to go windsurfing. We moved DB from her shallow, sheltered anchorage near a small fishing settlement in a long inlet called Kü ç ü k Ç ati out into the windy bay. While Andy was windsurfing I thought that the anchor had started to slip but after monitoring it for a while and testing it I decided it was holding, but I would keep my eye on the situation. Windsurfing over, and what a brilliant windsurf it was, we decided we had better use the remaining light to move DB back inside. The shipping forecast was for more gales and we were not 100% certain that the anchor was holding.

So for the second time that day Andy hand winched up the anchor. He was puzzled because the anchor, though obviously not on the ground, was not falling straight down but pulling back even though it could no longer be on the sea-floor. He told me to slow down - which I did from 2knots to a chug, chug 1 knot move forward. We were just approaching the narrow entrance to our sheltered inlet when, chunk, the engine stopped and I noticed something streaming out of the back of DB. We were surrounded by high rocky cliffs and submerged rocks - not a good place to be without an engine on a stormy night. Andy immediately re-dropped the anchor in 14 metres of water and dived into the sea to look underneath at the prop. I luckily had the presence of mind to activate the Man Over Board button on the GPS so I could monitor the holding of the anchor. Disaster - there was a HUGE fishing net tangled round the prop - so much that our rope cutter on the prop had broken, unable to cope. The MOB indicated we had moved 0.01nm - roughly 20-30m but appeared to have stopped and I put this down to the anchor chain tightening in a gust. The nearest rocks were less than 100m away and the depth had gone down to 7m.

We dug the kedge anchor out of the large stern locker to be at the ready and found a sharp knife. Andy dived back in with the knife while I kept a watchful eye on him and the rocks. Andy surfaced to say that the prop was so full of tightly twisted line it was almost impossible to cut through and I couldn’t get the engine into neutral so the prop wouldn’t turn freely to help untwist it. He went back under the water. There was less than an hour until dark and we seemed to be in a pretty hopeless situation. I noticed the anchor had slipped again and we were now 0.02nm from our original position and the rocks were now 50m away. We needed to deploy the kedge anchor. But just then a miracle happened. Allah truly came to our assistance in the form of two (holidaying?) Turkish guys fishing for their dinner in a little boat. I waved at them frantically and held up some of the fishing net Andy had managed to remove - a large bundle of the stuff and pointed at Andy in the water. They understood immediately and said in very good English that they would get help.

Within 10 minutes the fishing village arrived in an armada of little boats to rescue us. They took our tow rope (which we had hoped we would never need but had just in case) and Andy had, for the third time, to hand lift the anchor. I was thinking the poor guy must be exhausted after an hour of windsurfing, by now hand winched 150m of chain and been diving to cut the net. Then suddenly the truth of the matter became clear. The anchor was tangled with meter upon meter of dumped fishing net. When he had lifted the anchor in the windy bay the net had streamed from the anchor and made contact with the prop. He hacked at the net on the anchor but was unable to pull it aboard as it was still attached to the boat. Hopefully no one else will get it round their propeller as the net is now (hopefully) at the bottom of the channel into the inlet.

The flotilla towed us into the far corner of the inlet - we would never have dared anchor there without the local knowledge. We dropped our anchor in 3m water and they helped us with a very long shoreline before leaving us to “have a good nights sleep and sort it in the morning, captain”. They would not take anything from us.

Next morning Andy was able to finish cutting the net off the prop using a long hose to breathe underwater and free the jammed gears. Just as we were about to test the engine Fikret came over to see how we were doing. Fikret was the guy with the good English and it turned out he was and electronic engineer, now retired from NATO! He retired nine years ago at the age of 48 and has a small apartment in Marmaris and a small wooden gullet like motor yacht and he and his wife shares their time between them. Not only would he not accept any money or my gifts he invited us to his boat for drinks to meet the rest of his friends. He wanted to watch us test our engine in gear. It worked perfectly.

Exploring the Cyclades

2010-10-05T23:02:00.000-07:00

Astipalaia
We fairly romped on a beam reach to Astipalaia via an overnight stop in a fab inlet on Amorgos after being storm bound on Sikinos for two days. Not that we were complaining about being stuck in Sikinos because it is now down as a favourite of ours. We had met a lovely young American couple Brian and Doreen there who had chartered a yacht for their honeymoon but were finding the Med slightly scary after learning to cruise in the BVI‘s. We left them with the promise of less wind by Friday so that they could return the boat and on cue the wind did die just as we approached Astipalaia.

Richard and Pippa recommended Astypalaia and the island does look intriguing from the chart. It is almost two islands attached by a narrow strip of land and has numerous inlets and mountains. From the sea it looks very bleak and is obviously very sparsely populated. We decided to make for the Hora and main port. When there are several other cruisers in port you get talking but do not always introduce yourself. This time there are an interesting variety of nationalities. Next door is a beautiful 48 foot Wiequiez with Mr and Mrs French - later we learnt he is Jean-Yves - and the other side a scruffy 34 foot Italian boat with four on board. Next door but one is Dutch and then German, Swedish and another French. You get the picture. You sort of get territorial when the wind and swell increases and last night was a case in point.

As the wind increased yesterday we all started to adjust our lines and secure the boats safely against the surges we were experiencing. Andy and I decided to go for a walk and drink before dark coincidently at the same place as Jean-Yves and his wife, and on our return had found that a 44 foot boat had squeezed in between us and the beautiful Wiequiez. We would not have minded except big 44 foot had attached himself to us - little 35 foot - relying on our stanchions! As you can imagine, we were not happy and immediately started to sort his lines out as no one was on board. At this point Jean-Yves arrived. Now he is a serious sea-dog and was aghast at the unseamanly way Mr 44 foot had tied up! Our audience grew - the four Italians were on the case too. Just then Mr 44 foot turned up - I had his untied lines in my hands and probably looked like we were about to cast him adrift with the whole quay watching!

It turned out Mr 44 foot was also French and Jean-Yves took things in hand by jumping onto said 44 footer and moved the boat for them to a place where they could tie up properly. It turns out Mr and Mrs 44 foot had only just picked up the boat and were scared of the wind and swell.
After that bit of excitement we all settled down again to our own little lives on board our boats but an hour or two later - in the dark - a 60 foot boat arrives. Heads start popping out of hatches. There is a swell and an increasing wind. The quay is comfortably full. We do not want him to disturb us but we are aware that there APPEARS to be a space next to us. We all watch as he circles, wondering where he will choose, why he plans things so badly that he arrives in the dark and willing him to go away but also feeling some sympathy that there appears to be no space for him. He goes away - probably to the ferry quay. But an hour later he is back (the next day we saw why - the swell on that quay was untenable) and this time he is determined. We all start adjusting our lines to make room - supervised by J-Y. Andy nearly fell into the water as he crossed our pasarelle - the swell and his rush after a couple of drinks did not help - and he had to be rescued as he sprawled across the length of our plank with his glasses landing on the quay, poor guy.

We all settled down until an hour later another yacht arrives. Like Meercats we all poke our heads out of our companion ways but this time keeping low, watching. The yacht circled. We waited. This time the poor yacht had to give up and anchor.

We hired a scooter for the day - we wanted to understand why P+R had recommended this island. The Chora was pretty with its 8 windmills and castle but nothing exceptional. What was exceptional was the friendly locals. What wasn’t was the EC funded “renovation” on the intriguing castle which was actually a cluster of ancient houses and was dangerously crumbling. The new buttresses were literally clinging to the old structure by the skin of their teeth and in severe danger of falling on a passer by!

The island s a maximum of 10 miles long and at its widest 5 miles, has one tarmac road and nine dirt roads. We rode every single one and had the most wonderful time. The island is very sparse - just bare rock and a few goats. In particular we loved the North Eastern tip with its well sheltered inlet where several yachts were anchored. We, embarrassingly, ran out of petrol here and had to scrounge from a Norwegian couple who carried petrol for their tender otherwise we would have had a very long and dusty walk back to Deep Blue as we were as far as we could be from the one petrol station on the island. They were very kind and wouldn’t take any money.
Driving back to the Hora we stopped at a beautiful isolated sandy beach which actually was more plastic than sand, with two couples sunbathing in among the rubbish. I could not believe that they had chosen to drive there and stay. Andy stopped me doing a beach clean - how could we carry the plastic to a bin on our little scooter? The Western “wing” of the island was more lush and we passed through several thriving villages. At one we stopped for coffee and cake before returning to DB after a very satisfying and dusty day.

Nisos Nisiros
What an amazing island Nisiros is. The whole island is an active volcano and we hired a bike and were able to climb right down into its growling and hissing crater! The volcano is about 10kms diameter and just under 700m above sea level. The crater itself is nearly 5 kms diameter and is a seriously hot place! We loved this island and had a fascinating day exploring it. The museum described how the island formed with eruption after eruption, one every 20,000 years or so. On past record the next one is due in the next 5,000 years!

We raced Jean-Yves to Nisiros, a distance of 42nm, both with our spinnakers up. He gave us a 2 hour start but didn’t catch us up until the wind died and we had swapped to our Cruising Shute and he resorted to his engine. He was even more friendly now that we had proved our sailing credentials! While we were chatting to J-Y Andy saw an old friend - Kenneth. We met Kenneth, Melanie, baby Fritzy and their two dogs in November 2008. They write German cruising pilots and we were very pleased to see each other again. Sadly one of the dogs has died and the other they decided to leave with Melanie’s mother - probably for the best as they live on a 31ft boat with a growing child. Fritzy is delightful and now 2 years old. We compared notes about the Greeks - it was a very interesting conversation especially as they agreed with us! Sad really but like us they do not have any ordinary Greek friends and miss the easy hospitality of the Turks.
Turkey again

And so we sailed back “home” to the Datca peninsula. We had a dinner date with Wilfred , Sabina and dog Don of Wisa. Amazingly we arrived at the same time in an isolated inlet, from different directions and hours earlier than the appointed time, where a naked Swiss man tried to direct us away from his motor catamaran. Really … he should have put it away before shouting at Wilfred, it is very hard to take a man seriously when he is a stranger in his birthday suit! As soon as the boats were secure we all dived into the clear water and swam to hug each other - quite funny as we all ended up spluttering!

It was a lovely sociable evening with Don joining in and behaving very well - he had a real explore of Deep Blue’s deck , having a look down below, before settling down and watching us eat. We arranged to catch up again later in the month.

So now we are in Karaca Sogut - the place where we spent winter 2008/9. We arrived on 1st October exactly one year after we left Turkey to return to the UK. Most of our friends were not here but we have never the less a stream of people passing Deep Blue to chat - including Byram who used to be our dolmus driver and has just started a new job as skipper of a Turkish style super-yacht after passing all his exams just as we left here in the spring of 2009. This is a big deal for him as his wife was very resistant to him studying as it meant he spent a lot of time away from the family but he told me things were good with his family now.

Water

2010-10-05T22:53:00.000-07:00

Water
Apart from minor inconveniences like laundry a bigger issue for us is drinking water for the boat. Bottled water is a big no no for reasons that hopefully will come clear - and this can be bought anywhere - but more worrying tap water is much more scarce. We have never had an issue before this year and perhaps it is because we previously sailed bigger islands but today’s tale is a cautionary one.
We have not filled up with water since Marmaris - more than 10 days ago. We carry 150 litres with a 25 litre emergency portable water carrier. Bear in mind that in the USA the average water usage per individual per day on mains supply is SEVENTY GALLONS - this is 265 litres!!! We have used our emergency water now but still cannot find potable water. We tried to get some delivered here on Sikonos before we left for Ios but could not get hold of the waterman. We were not too concerned then as we thought we would have no problems getting water on a well developed tourist island. But having failed to get water on Ios for reasons discussed below, we are back here on Sikinos and yesterday were told that the island has run out of water!
We did not really gell with Ios but were glad we went there as we made some friends - in particular Peter, the recent previous owner and designer of 30m SY Spirit of the East who, with paid crew, were delivering her to Marmaris for a refit. When Peter heard who Andy was he invited us on board and asked Andy to quote for some work! So that bit was good.
Ios is known as the backpackers island though they are trying to become more up market - for instance, after we swam in the morning we asked a man washing his sunbeds if we could borrow the hose to shower ourselves (in an attempt to save boat water) and he refused saying he was not allowed to - we realised on discussing why he was not allowed that this was an attempt at stopping people sleeping on the beach by withdrawing facilities. However, the whole place has a sort of Disney feel - they are trying to be something they are not. We had the MOST AWFUL meal here, choosen purely on cost (big mistake) - in fact so bad we picked at it and left hungry so had a second meal later which actually was fab! Another problem Ios has is rubbish and every night they burn it above the main port hoping, I suppose, that the wind blows the smoke and ash out to sea. Unfortunately it doesn’t always and all the yachts get covered in black ash every morning. The place is otherwise spotlessly clean - very little litter - but what is an island to do with all the waste the tourist industry generates (especially plastic water bottles by the tonne). But that is another story.
Anyway back to the water. Our pilot says that the water van brings good drinking water to boats in Ios port so we found the phone number for the waterman and called him. His English was basic and our Greek is non-existent so when we asked him if it was sweet water? Drinkable? And he answered yes we were pleased. However we had been overheard by an Athenian on a charter yacht close by and he told us the water was not good to drink “washing water only” at the moment. I went into my usual “everyone says that and we always drink it” spiel but he said “no, it is yellow - I won’t even cook in it”. So we had to turn the waterman down.
I started to think about the problems of a small island supporting a disproportionate population (for instance, Santorini has a population of 11,000 in the winter but 300,000 summer population). Tourists use a lot of water. In one day we swim and then shower, swim again and shower again, get hot on the beach so shower and wash our hair for the evening, wash out a few clothes perhaps, flush the toilet rather often etc. All without thinking (1) where does the water come from and (2) where does it go after the plughole? Obviously on a boat you become much more connected to all this and use water very differently but the average tourist is unaware. Before the tourist industry came to dominate the islands economy the small population of islanders used ground water, tended their crops on the terraces that now lie abandoned but still cover the island and lived in tune with the elements. But the ground water is no longer being used - either it has dried up or it is polluted. Were the abandoned terraces due to better jobs in the tourist industry or simply a lack of water for their crops?
The tourist trade is predominantly run by people who come to the islands for the season and then go back to the mainland for the winter. Georgio, who we met in his café in the Hora of Sikinos, and our pony-tailed shopkeeper from last week are both from Athens and when questioned closely do not seem to have much of a “feel” for the island on which they spend most of their time. Our young friend Greek / English Alex on Folegandhros was a bit more in tune but even he, it turns out, is wrong about the water on that island. He told us that the island water was good and it was what he always drank. But now we doubt that that is what he drinks these days.
Remember our horrid anchorage in Folegandhros? And how a big tanker like ship had arrived in the night and managed to negotiate Deep Blue and another anchored yacht to get to the quay. Well we met the captain last night as the same ship arrived at Sikinos and he recognised us. And his ship turned out to be the long awaited water boat, topping up the islands water tanks. So things started to become clear - we now realise that the yellow Ios water must come from the bottom of the holding tank due to the low level of water left on the island. The holding tank on Folegandhros was being topped up that night - so they no longer drink the ground water and on Sikonos they were waiting for the water tanker and did not want to give their precious last drops to a visiting boat. The guys in the mini-market here remembered me from our last stay and had told me that we could not have water because (1) it has not rained since January and (2) the water boat had not been since August. They were very kind and filled our 25litre water carrier from their tap so we were not without completely. But to be so dependant on a water tanker coming from Athens cannot be good - that is seriously expensive water. I asked the shop-keeper what the people 100 years ago drank but I did not get a satisfactory answer - he also was disconnected, it was something he had not thought about.
I had a discussion with my French sister Judy about water and she shed some interesting light on the subject. Over 20 years ago she and her husband Jean-Paul were on holiday in Corsica and started to talk to some farmers there. They were complaining that their water supply had dried up and they blamed the tourist industry. It seems that priority was being given to the visitors over their crops. Those farms are abandoned now. Over the last 3-4 years in S France she and JP are renovating an old house and they have made two discoveries - they have a well in their garden and the waste water from the house empties into this same well! The house has mains water and a previous owner (along with all the other villagers probably) thought it saved money to use the now disused well as a sewer! How many people are there out there who have this disconnect between clean drinking water and waste?

"Bottled and Sold: The Story Behind Our Obsession with Bottled Water by Peter H Gleick. A must read.
The scariest of his statistics:-
“Every second of every day in the United States, a thousand people buy a plastic bottle of water, and every second of every day a thousand more throw one of those bottles away. That adds up to more than thirty billion bottles a year and tens of billions of dollars of sales.”

The Cylcades continued

2010-09-30T08:09:00.000-07:00

After leaving Sikinos for total of 5 days, we anchored in a pretty rustic bay, at the SW end of Amorgos (we last visited this sheer, windswept island 2 years to see its amazing 800 year old monastery with 2 monks + one abbot)

Next stop the butterfly-shaped island of Astypalea - a favourite of our great Kiwi sailing buddies, Pippy and Richard

A strong South-Easterly set in with a nasty swell entering the harbour for two days... rock and roll!

The 'citadel' was built by a rich Italian in the 14th century. Due to the rule of pirates in this part of the Med then, he had to import a population to colonise the fortified town.

The view down onto the harbour.

A severe earthquake in 1956 demolished quite a lot of the houses clinging to the top of the hill, but the rebuilding is pretty good.

This was kitten city! At almost every corner, new litters were much in evidence. English Helen, on Folegandros had been doing her best to get cats spayed there to avoid the problem.

This poor old lady had an extraordinary face which Leonardo would most certainly have captured!

We think this is a grouper - just caught - and this chap seems to be looking in vain for someone to leave it with!

As the SE wind continued, we explored by scooter. The island necks to almost split in half.

A nice beach on a lee shore will always collect ... PLASTIC!!

The trusty hog allowed us to then explore the west of Astypalea ... very mountainous and spectacular.

A powerful beast ... in the right hands!

Our last Greek island for a while - Nissyros. Basically is a still active volcano (i.e. its last eruption occured less than 10,000 years ago)...

...Where we bumped into Melanie and Kenneth, our German friends who are onto their 4th pilot book update exercise; minus two dogs, plus 2 year old Fritzie.

The central crater is quite spectacular ...

... but weird to hear the hissing and roaring from the depths below us.

This last eruption site (1896) is just a small part of the main caldera, but quite an amazing landscape.

Down on the outside of the crater, the small village of Embrorios peers over the edge and has its own natural 'Sauna' - incredibly humid inside!

The smaller island just north, Yali, is almost pure pumice (ash) which is being quarried away by the decade. Behind is the southern volcanic peak of Kos. We were amazed to learn from the excellent museum on Nissyros that we were standing in one of the most volcanic active areas of the world!

And now, back into Turkish waters, we have a dinner engagement with Sabine and Wilfried + Don, the mini Schnauzer. A great evening on board Deep Blue in calm weather, laughing at Wilfried's crazy sense of humour.

Ia, Folegandros, Sikinos, Ios + Sikinos again

2010-09-22T13:04:00.000-07:00

One last picture postcard perfect photo of the crater, taken from the norther town of Ia on Santorini...

...where crowds gather to view from a different perspective of...

...yes, another sunset!

Next day, we had a brisk beat then up to the small island of Folegandros, NW of Santorini. Here the centuries old terracing lays unused, most likely due to tourism and the lack of water.

But the main village (the Hora) is one of the most perfectly beautiful we have seen in the Aegean.

The down side was the terribly uncomfortable anchorage at the small port of Folegandros. This huge ship had squeezed past us somehow in our awful night; in fact, we found out days later it's the water tanker!

Next, stop for 3 days on the island recommended by another Andy, a skipper friend of mine - Sikinos.

Really great, with friendly people, a nice little port and adjacent sandy beach...

... with great walks, though we lost our way rather.

The tiny village of Chorio at the top has no road running through it, so the traditional transport is still used.

We hiked to this amazing old church, Episkopi, which 'ingeniously incorporates' parts of a Roman mausoleum.

At dusk, the football team, plus friends and family, departs for the next island.

The common sport for big men is to shoot small birds. Very brave.

Our only shot of the next island east, Ios; the touts greeting the dwindling number of ferry passenger arrivals. We never really got to like Ios for some reason.

Back the 6 nm to Sikinos to get water (eventually), which felt a bit like going home. We were then pinned down for 2 days by strong northerly Meltemi wind, but at least I got to windsurf in the harbour both days! (hmmm, need weight a bit further forward in that gybe!). The wind subsides and we head east for Folegandros.

The Cyclades, football teams and washing

2010-09-19T02:54:00.000-07:00

45. Greek Islands and fishing - Vlikadha, Santorini, Cyclades, Greece

We are in the “marina” of Vlikadha, on the South side of Santorini. In fact, as happens with most Greek marinas it has been taken over by the fishermen and they take priority over us yachts - so as they come in we get shunted around to make room for them. Here, as in Turkey, families live on board these small boats and we have been watching them land their tiny haul of fish and sort their nets. It is a tough live and in the desperate search for ever smaller fish the boats are scouring the seabed and much of their catch is the rockbed of the ocean.

The women here in Greece are as involved as the men - in fact on the two boats next to us I would say the women are the skippers. Both are attractive women but very different in character. There is the Amazon with a wild mop of very long curly hair, talking continually to her men folk (husband and sons perhaps) and then the quieter lady with her rubber gloves on and neat swept back dark hair and her two sons I guess. Both women are perhaps 40- 45 years old. They are well dressed and well fed. So different to their Turkish counterparts where the women appear to be subservient assistants and the fishing is much more subsistence level - perhaps no help from the government in Turkey while many of the Greek boats fly the European flag. Our Turkish custom officer friend told us that the Turkish fishing families live on the boats for the summer then take the money they have earnt (he believed quite a lot at the equivalent of €5,000) and live off the land in the winter. However, when we over-wintered in Karaç a SÖgù t there were fishing-families living on their boats with their small children, so he does not necessarily know all the story.

Yesterday we visited Thira - the Hora (main town) of this island. We walked some of the way in the heat of the afternoon until we found a bus stop and luckily the bus stopped for us. There is a very good bus service on the island though the ticket seller was very surly - in fact up to this point we had not met one friendly local. Even the lady from whom we bought coffee at the bus-stop was unfriendly and could not tell us if the bus would come soon despite her friend getting on the bus with us 5 minutes later!

Santorini is a volcano which blew between 1460BC and 1450BC. It must have been some explosion and put an end to the civilisation that lived here at that time. Now all that can be seen of the still active volcano is a half moon rim and the plug in the middle. The crater is filled with sea water and Thira sits high above this crater. The view is spectacular with the town a dense covering of white buildings cascading over the rim. 300m below there is a port of sorts where the cruise liners pick up buoys and discharge their vast cargos of people. We were very lucky that there was only one liner in port so the town was relatively empty. The cable car or donkeys are the easiest way from port to town and there were certainly a lot of donkeys!

We found a LOVELY restaurant with the friendliest family running it and the nicest food we have eaten out in Greece, overlooking the crater which faces West. While we ate our meal and drank the delicious local (homemade) wine we watched the sunset. We caught the 10pm bus back along the main road and walked the half hour back to the boat. When we got to Deep Blue we were seriously smelly after a day of sweltering heat so decided the best way to wash off was in the sea. The phosphorescence made the experience even better! Our motor yacht neighbour thought it “cool” that we had been swimming in the middle of the night.

At last we were beginning to meet some friendly Greeks. Today I climbed the cliff to the road above the marina and it was like a switch - everyone was so friendly and helpful. We needed to buy some stores and the lady in the Demitris taverna organised a shopkeeper to come and collect and return us with our shopping while we drank coffee. A really nice guy came to collect us - big and fit with a long, well kept ponytail. He told us that the shop belongs to his uncle and he runs it for him in the 8 summer months then joins his wife and daughter in Athens in the winter. He does some buying for the shop during that time but otherwise concentrates on his family. His daughter and wife join him during the 4 month school holidays and we met them and also his mother who lives with his uncle. A true family business. His wife was a very tall lady - and it turns out she used to play basket ball for Greece and we could see why! The whole family were smiley friendly people. We also spent a lot of money there so it was well worth his while collecting us.

That night we ate tapas in the very friendly Demitris Taverna and watched another spectacular sunset before retiring to bed aboard the good ship Deep Blue.

Santorini - Vlycadha to Nisos Thirisia
We wanted to spend a night or two in the crater of Santorini itself and so we motored the 6nm round (not worth getting the sails up!) and ate lunch while looking up at the Hora of Sanorini / Thira itself before picking up a buoy at the base of the Western crater rim island of Thirisia. Tourism has passed this place by despite very regular Gullets stopping here off loading its cargo of people. It is very down-trodden but there is a spectacular walk up to the Hora and sunset - good exercise if you decide not to take the donkey, and being the fit-family of course we did not.

We shared a beer (luckily we took our own) in the sad garden, strewn with rubbish, of a once grand and now abandoned hotel. What is it about the islanders here - there were signs for this hotel which indicated that neighbours had tried to stop people going to it. It was the only big building in the tiny village and could have brought prosperity to the place - or maybe I am missing something here. It certainly had a prime position with views both East into the crater and over to Thira and West to the sunset. It made us wonder what made an island successful as a tourist destination and what the critical mass of investment was. It cannot be difficult really as they have the essentials of sun, beautiful (warm by the way) water and spectacular views. All they need to provide is clean accommodation and a smiling face. Sadly the smiling face is largely missing with very notable exceptions.

We spent a further night anchored in the crater but this time under the town of Oia, at the Northern tip of the main island of Sanorini / Nisos Thira. Again it was a steep and long climb up the crater rim but we were so glad we had made the effort because it must be the prettiest town on the island and probably in the whole of Greece to date. Whitewashed churches, shops, boutique hotels and restaurants and houses, cobbled walkways and not a car in sight. Granted it was PACKED with tourists watching the sunset (what another one!!) but we found our way to a piece of hidden wasteland (even here they managed to let this field remain coated in plastic with a forlorn looking donkey tethered in the centre - but hey, out of sight, out of mind) to drink our boat beer and watch the sky once again turn red.

Nisos Folegandros
On Tuesday 14th September we set sail for Nisos Folegandros. We had a brilliant sail at high speed in a building Meltemi. Another pretty island and very different to the last one. There is a small part completed “marina” but no where safe for us to tie up so we decided to anchor. It took a while for the anchor to bite and even though we were not quite where we wanted to be we decided to stay put. We had an interesting time. The harbour walls - such as they were - did not protect us or any other boat from the swell and it turned out to be somewhat busier harbour than we were expecting!

First a Gullet arrived and manoeuvred around us so close I had a conversation with a crew member who assured me we were not in the way but then proceeded to drop its anchor just where ours was before reversing onto the quay. You have to bear in mind the tiny size of the harbour but height of a very hard quay which had put us off tying up PLUS a strong wind gusting across the mountains in a very unpredictable direction and a large swell. The gullet crew had a lot of difficulties getting their stern lines ashore - they tried lassoing the mooring bollard! And no-one came to help. Once secure they rocked and rolled just like us and in the night they slipped away without us noticing. We had a big shock when we woke the next morning, despite a broken sleep checking DB at regular intervals as we were blown around our anchor. There was the biggest fuel barge meters away from us alongside the quay - how on earth had it negotiated around us, another yacht also anchored, the quay and shallows without us hearing him!!

The previous evening we had walked the 3 km to the Hora - another pretty, pretty place. We somehow couldn’t face cooking on board a small boat bobbing around its anchor so we ate hearty rabbit and vegetable stews at a small family restaurant before returning to the beach and deciding to stay ashore for a drink. We were glad we did because we met a lovely (and handsome) young man who told us his take on the Greek situation. Alex has an English mum (Helen who we also met) and a Greek father who was also in evidence but not feeling sociable. Alex is dark with goatie beard, long dark hair pulled into a tie and like his mum tall and slim (actually he looks very like his English mum) - he told us that in Athens he has been picked up several times as a suspected Arab terrorist. Until he said he was schooled on the island I thought he must have gone to an English public school! Alex grew up on the island, his father was born on the island but he told us he was always an outsider, the English boy - even the school kids used to taunt him about being English.

He told us about catching his first octopus - in his hands - in the sea just by our table. “The sea used to come right up here but the sea walls changed the whole bay. It was badly designed and the sand moved from over there to over here. But it would have been very nice never-the-less. But a rich man on the island did not want it so he fought it through the European courts and the European funding was withdrawn”. What is left is a mess of huge concrete blocks and yet another part European funded part built marina. We hope that the man in question is happy with the sight.

But he felt that the Greeks were changing.

His theory is that the financial crisis has got through to the everyday Greek and the culture of everyone for their own is changing. Note, he said, how everyone gives you a receipt now (true). The link between taxes and service has got through to people at last . Some corrupt politicians are being put in jail too, making the culture of stealing European money and taxes less acceptable. Slowly, slowly he believes the Greeks are changing. They are angry with the old political elite and so perhaps the politics will change too.

Alex was helping his parents out at the bar though we got the impression he now lives in Athens and has certainly been an English teacher there. He is a nice guy and it was interesting to get his perspective as a near insider.

Sadly we could not stay - another night like that one on anchor and murder would have been committed so the next morning we sailed East to Nisos Sikinos and a sheltered tiny harbour on yet another pretty little island - this time with a fantastic beach.

Nisos Sikinos, Cyclades, Greece
We needed our laundry washing. 10 days without being able to wash clothes and bedding had left us scrabbling for clean things. We asked at the local mini market – the lady there seemed to be the font of all knowledge – but on this point we drew a blank. She knew of no-one who would put a wash into a washing machine for passing sailors.

We walked to the hora. Actually it was a walk that turned into our usual scramble and clamber cross country until we found the old donkey way. Two hours later we found our way into the hora and I was seriously low on the blood sugar front. We had the devils job to find ANYWHERE that sold ANYTHING. The place was beautiful, clean but devoid of people. We wandered the empty walkways until we eventually found the cutest bar with a seriously cool dude running it who spoke excellent English. I cross examined him ... where was he from, did he know the island. Well he was not local, he was from Athens, he did not know the whole island as he had only lived there 10 years (!) (Sikinos is only 5 kms by 10 kms max) but we could try him. Did he know anyone who could do our washing! Actually yes he did know a lady who took in washing he would go and ask her how much and if she could do it.

So it came to pass that we were introduced to a dower looking lady who seemed pleased that she may have some work but was not going to make too much of a fuss about it. We told her we would be back in the morning. Luckily there is an amazing bus service between the port and the hora because we ended up getting to know the bus driver and the bus route pretty well!

Next morning, relevant to this story is the fact that we were the only boat left in the port (actually small village harbour) until an hour before we left for the bus, when a small ferry boat moored behind us – we thought it was a party boat because it was full of mainly male young men - emptied noisily. The boat stayed and the party got on the early bus to the Hora.

Anyway, walking boots on and two large bags of washing in hand we caught the 9.15 bus to the hora and dropped the bags of laundry to our washer woman. She barely acknowledged us but said “afternoon” when we asked when to collect.

We went for a fabulous walk and returned at 12.30 to find a few pieces of our washing looking very well wrung on the line. I started to worry about how our washing would look when it was eventually returned to us. We hoped it was still work in progress. There was a bus at 1 and another at 2. We rather optimistically asked her if the washing would be ready in half an hour and for a moment thought we were in luck until we realised that no, she was asking us to return at 6pm!! We caught the 1 o’clock bus back to the boat.

There was a bus back at 5.45, so after lunch, some work and a swim we caught the bus back to the hora. The bus is an old coach which rarely gets out of 2nd gear due to the steep road (the only road on the island) between port and hora. There appear to be two bus drivers that take alternative days and then drive backwards and forwards the 10 minute but 2 hour walk distance about 8 times a day. We were getting to know today’s fit driver in his wrap round glasses pretty well! The washing was waiting and when we gave her the money, a fortune for us both, she actually started to smile very broadly! We were all happy – we had clean clothes and she had €30 euros!

We decided to go back to Georgeo’s bar for a beer to celebrate. We were greeted like old friends by all the regulars (old men drinking coffee) though Andy thought it may have been more to do with the low neckline on my dress than the fact that they recognised us from yesterday. We decided to catch the 7pm bus back, our fifth bus journey in less than 24hour! We duly got on the bus early because the Greek buses always leave early - but just to prove me wrong this one did not! He then took a road we had not previously seen. This was going to be a magical mystery tour! Imagine our amazement when we stopped at an Astro-turf football pitch complete with flood lights on the only flat piece of land on the island in the middle of absolutely no-where!

The bus driver got out of the bus and said “5 minutes”. We all followed thinking he was going to join the game and that this was going to be an elastic 5 minutes. All ages were playing from a tiny boy who was like Beckham to a seriously old man - a proper motley crew. To the amusement of the other passengers I start to shout “come on the orange team” but it meant they came to talk to me. It turned out that the footballers were a mix of islanders who had come by the “party” boat to play an inter-island football game. The bus was waiting to take them back to the boat moored behind us which in turn was due to leave any moment.

Eventually the happy footballers piled into the bus and we were on our way to the port. We waved them goodbye as their boat left and we were left the only boat in port to sort our clean washing.

Santorini photos

2010-09-12T00:06:00.001-07:00

Our dear kiwi friend, Richard Buchanan (he+Pippy we sailed with for 2 months last year), came and saw us off in Falmouth!

Then time in Bristol to see our son Piers, fresh back from 3 month in the city + my Mum and Dad. Then we're off to Marmaris to dust off Deep Blue and set sail west for Santorini - the big volcanic crater in the middle of the Aegean

After 30 hours we were quite glad to find our berth at Vlikadha, the only 'decent' harbour on the island for small craft

The bus service is pretty good. Lots of cars - the island population swells to 300,000+ in the summer season.

The views from the caldera of the volcano are what everyone comes for ...

The 300m high rim dwarfs the normal sized cruise liners below.

Probably our best meal in Greece, with a really fine local wine.

We toast the start of our continuing adventures

The thing of course in Santorini, more than anything are the sunsets (view from the restaurant)

The main town, Fira, is scattered like snow along the rim, during the day and the sting of lights at night.

Our little port came alive with the arrival of a couple of small fishing boats by us

The Amazonian fishing mum takes a break, watching her son sorting the nets - it took ALL day, includign having to bash the remnants of the sea bed out of the tattered nylon...

...a small marine environment, every lump.

Another glorious sunset, and tomorrow we sail round into the crater, to moor on the western rim side, on the island of Thirasia.

Marmaris, man-over-board, Turkish friends and a long sail to Santorini

2010-09-11T00:38:00.000-07:00

We arrived back on board Deep Blue to find everything down-below in order, so after a quick tidy and shower we went to say hi to Wilfred, Sabina and their dog Don on Wisa. They had another visitor on board - a handsome German called Juergen. Juergen was a tall, fit man with an eye for the ladies. His hair style told me he was a young man in the 60’s but otherwise it was a surprise to learn that he was 69 years old. He had spent some years in London in the 60’s and had a Cockney accent! He was very good company but he had a sobering tale to tell about the day he fell overboard. I cannot remember how the subject came up but I will never forget the story.

Juergen told us that the event took place last year and the weather must have been rough because he had full oilies on - and unusual occurrence for him when sailing in the Med. He had had to go forward to sort his spinnaker pole out (and now I remember why he told the story because we have to repair ours). They had gibed and he was swapping the pole from one side of the mast to the other when the boat lurched and he went over-board with the pole. He was sailing with his wife and she went into a blind panic. The yacht was on self-steering and Juergen watched as she sailed away from him. All he could think about was how would Inga manage to get the boat to port without him and apparently she was wondering how she would explain to the police that it was an accident. It is strange what you think when you are in an impossible situation. J had his oilies and boots on and no lifejacket. They were heavy, he is in his late 60’s and is now treading water for his life.

He watched the boat sail away from him for two miles before he saw it turn round and by some miracle (he said God must have guided her) head straight back towards him. By the time the boat returned to the EXACT spot that he was in the water it was 20 minutes later. Inga threw him the lifebelt and the attached floating line blew towards him enabling him to retrieve it. The next problem was how to get aboard. He still had his oilies on and could not get onto the bathing ladder. Inga had thrown a sail sheet to him (so still attached to the boat) and he hung onto that for 10 or more minutes but thought he would die hanging there. Inga could not pull him up and he was exhausted. Then he had the idea to use a winch - Inga was then able to haul him aboard.
It was lovely to see Wilfred and Sabina again. They are such a lovely couple. We compared notes, had a few beers before taking our leave and going to the marina restaurant for Meza.

The next day I started my swimming routine. There is a bathing platform in the Marina and a new bar overlooking it. While I was swimming Andy was making friends. Bora was relaxing after 4 months with his Italian owner as skipper of a 35m motor yacht called Dragonfly. Dragonfly had been lifted that day and he was going to have a beer or two even though it is still Ramazan. Later his brother joined him - Andy recognised him immediately as Deria the customs officer based at the Marina. We were in for an interesting evening as both spoke good English.

They told us that their father had died at the age of 59 - a common age for men to die in Turkey. He was a heavy smoker. Bora is 31 and is getting married to his Turkish stewardess next month but is unsure about having children because he thinks he will die before they grow up - and I agree with him about the dying bit as he chain smokes and is over-weight.

Deria on the other hand is older, health conscious (he kept telling us about his cholesterol level and how he was working on reducing it), been married 17 years and has two children, a daughter aged 10 and a very special son aged 2.5. He told us he met his wife through an agency. They talked on the phone and by letter for 1 year before they met and he proposed. The second time he saw her was at their wedding. He has a good marriage, the secret he told us is respect - always listen and do not interrupt. We had hoped to meet Deria’s wife the next day as she speaks English but in the end could not because his son was sleeping (which would mean he would be up all night). He spoke about time to get to know his wife - the reason for only two children and the big gap in ages (perhaps I misinterpreted) and seemed genuinely happy with his family.

The two men are concerned about the Turkish governments move to Islam. They are for the army imposing military rule as the military are Attaturk. However, on the Kurdish issue they had strong but confusing views. The Kurds are the conduit for drugs from Iran and are all criminals on one hand (what all of them?). They cannot sell enough in the Bazaar to pay their rents, for instance - it can only be a means for money laundering. But on the other hand the Kurds are their brother and fighting them was like killing members of your family. I got the feeling that Bora had had a tough time in the Army. According to them, the Kurds have always been treated fairly by the state (we know this to be untrue, many only speak Kurdish and when arrested, until last year, could only have a Turkish speaking lawyer) and everyone is the same in Turkey and has the same opportunities.

Deria has worked for 24 years for the government. After 25 he gets a pension and then he and his wife are moving to her home town of Kushadshi where they intend to open a chicken restaurant. He currently lives in a rented apartment in the centre of Marmaris having had to move away from his house in the Northern suburbs as it became a British enclave - full of murderers and criminals wanted by the UK police. I apologised - we went there Christmas 2008 to collect our turkey and even though the houses are very nice I got an unpleasant vibe from the UK bar we visited, so I could sympathise with him.

They also told us about people trafficking that is prolific. For €5,000 boat owners will take you from Turkey to Greek Simi. There is a boat in Marmaris harbour - a rocket ship - that allegedly every day makes the trip with 20 people on board. Often though (and we have heard this story before) the boat just takes the poor refugees around the corner and tells them they are in Greece. These refugees are from Pakistan, Iran and Iraq.

We liked Deria and Bora despite all these gloomy tales. They were very friendly, open and generous. They invited us to join them for Hamsy - Black Sea small fish - the next day. Funnily enough Deria took us to our favourite Marmaris restaurant proving that we can sniff out the genuine article I guess!

A sail to Santorini, Greece Sept 9th - 10th
After getting back our sails, buying a new battery, refilling the water tanks and other general jobs we were ready to depart. So early on 9th September we set sail for the island of Santorini, some 140nm due west of Marmaris. The forecast was for light NW winds so we hoped to get a bit of sailing in but expected to have to motor much of the way there. The plan is to get West in one go and then island hop back to North Datç a peninsula to visit Karaç a SÖ gù t and some friends. We left the entrance of Marmaris bay at 10.45 with sails up - ever hopeful. But it was not to be - the breeze was right on the nose - so we motored until just before sunset when bizarrely the wind veered enough for us to sail West and was strong enough that we needed a reef.

The time before dark is an eerie time when you are at sea. You feel nervous that the light is going and soon you will not be able to see land. I had a good look around as we were going to be sailing through the night and past several islands and rocks, the first of which were just disappearing from view. I took note of where the one light house was, where the visible towns were and where there were ships. As it gets dark everything closes in - the lights seem on top of you when in reality they are many miles away. It is good to get your bearings before the only point of reference is the chart, the GPS and the stars.

First Venus shines out brightly from the darkening sky. The sun slips quickly away leaving a red glow. Then suddenly the stars turn on with the millions of pinpoint lights of the milky way sweeping over us. Tonight there is no moon but a large bright planet disc rises in the East - we have not yet identified it- but through the night it moves from East to set in the West. Once the darkness descends it feels good to be sailing under the stars, slipping through the water, watching the phosphorescence. The lights on the land help us navigate through the nearest cluster of islands and rocks. The next obstacle is a few hours sailing away.

We do 2.25 hour watches - 2 hours by yourself and the last 15 minutes together. It works well - 2 hours is long enough to get a good sleep while not too long fighting sleep on deck. Sunrise is as sudden as sunset. 10 minutes from dark to light. Fully light at 06.50 while I am on watch. We have been able to sail all the way through the night, navigated through unmarked rocks and tiny islands and Nisos Thira / Santorini is only 50nm and two islands away.

We nosed into the small “marina” on the South side of Santorin - minimum depth 2.9m. Why was I surprised that the marina is the usual Greek mess of crumbling, never finished concrete, strewn with fishing nets and building materials that will never be used and a newly built office and toilet block. We were greeted with a whistle and the gestations of the harbour master telling us to go alongside the end of a quay. As always happens when I come to Greece I have got myself all worked up again about the sloppiness of the Greeks. The brand new toilet block has NEVER been cleaned and is almost unusable already, the quay is a mess and dangerous and the harbour water is filthy though intriguing bubbles rise to the surface reminding us that we are moored in an active volcano! Unusually we went to sleep to the sound of gunshots and again were woken by, not a call for prayer but an hour long series of shootings starting at 0700. We think it must be small bird shooting time. Welcome to Greece! Today we explore and hopefully meet the friendly locals!

4th September 2010 Back in Marmaris, Turkey

2010-09-11T00:35:00.000-07:00

4th September 2010 Back in Marmaris, Turkey
Apart from 2 weeks at Easter, Andy and I have been based in Falmouth, Cornwall for nearly 1 year but now, after a frantic week getting ready, we have re-let the house and flown to Dalaman Airport to rejoin Deep Blue in Marmaris. We didn’t get a moment to catch our breathe. Our lovely friends Sabina and Wilfred from Wisa were expecting us - there was a card at the companion way welcoming us back, and we kept on bumping into people we know as well a making new friends with our neighbours. We were not alone all evening and fell straight into life back on the good ship Deep Blue.
In the past year back on dry land our son Piers has graduated and now works in London and Fay has returned from her travels to train to be a nurse in Bristol. They both seem happy and settled so we feel able to return to our itinerant way of life. We have really loved being back in Falmouth and seeing our friends, Piers and Fay and the rest of our family so regularly and will miss everyone. However Deep Blue calls!
All is good on DB but there is a surprising amount to do to get her ready to sail - unpacking the sails, remembering where we put things, discovering a battery is faulty and having to find a replacement .... and so on. Also her bottom - even though newly anti-fouled in March - is caked with crustatians and seaweed so I have had to spend an exhausting (it is extremely hot here) day cleaning those off the best I can from our tender. I guess it is not surprising given the temperature of the water but it is none-the-less disappointing that our expensive and hard work antifouling has been a waste of time.
We have made two new very interesting Turkish friends - the customs officer here (Deria) and his brother (Bora), a skipper of a 35m motor yacht. Last night we spent the evening talking politics with them and tonight we have been invited to spend the evening with Deria and his wife. I will report back in my first Blog!
We are off to Crete either tomorrow or the next day (depending on how much Raki is consumed) - a 30 hour or so sail. Then we will island hop back to the Datca Peninsula and then to Marmaris towards the end of October. We have decided to get her lifted and stored on shore for the winter so when we return in 2011 she will be free of weed.
Just a quick note to get everyone in the picture!

Fay's birthday in Turkey Mar/Apr 2010, with 4 videos

2010-05-01T08:47:00.000-07:00

01. At last we get Piers and Fay on board – in the flesh! After relaunching Deep Blue in Marmaris

01. Morning swims begin ... well for some of us

01. We're all here in Turkey for Fay’s 20^th birthday – aaah!

01. We spent that whole day in Fethiye – Fay’s holding a tortoise. Fay’s super friend Elena on the left.

01. I’d been saving this up to take Fay to the fish market for a v. special dinner

01. Then on to a nargile bar, where we met Mamoud who took a shine to us; well, the girls!

01. Then on again with Mamoud to a great little night club, full of girls, and this amazingly good and very friendly Turkish musician – lots of dancing!

01. A couple of days later we walked up and over to Kayakoy – the deserted Greek town.

01. Then on to Olu Deniz for paragliding for Fay, Elena and me

01. A fantastic experience, tandem jumping off at 6500ft and landing on the beach by Deep Blue at anchor...

...my pilot was very experienced, happily!

01. Back into Fethiye to collect Immy, Fay’s other super friend from home. A rather scary feast of pomegranate

01. Then down to the beautiful national park and some of our favourite anchorages – Lycian tombs ...

01. ... Above Tomb Bay

01. We so loved being back on Deep Blue again, with such lively company

01. The girls delight in their surroundings – a tortoise poses for Immy

01. Piers took this great shot – captured joy and innocence!

01. A happy atmosphere with 6 of us on board.

01. Last dinner away from the marina in Marmaris, in a very expensive restaurant we found – free mooring if we eat. We just had starters!

Piers assumed this dubious appearance before he headed off for Norway and me home. A really great 2 weeks together. Very special! With some of my most absolutely favourite people!!

Here's some paragliding footage - awesome!

Back to the Greeks again - Assos etc.

2009-09-05T07:08:00.001-07:00

As we neared the Greek island of Lesvos again, there was such a sharp transition in the weather – hot and no wind!

The ancient town of Mithymna we missed last time were on Lesvos – it’s more recent beauty is protected well...

...Including this wealthy Greek merchant’s mansion (1822), inhabited and looked after by the Athens school of Fine Arts; every room is decorated – with both Greek and Ottoman influences it’s easy to see how the two cultures lived easily side by side before ultimate conflict.

e.g. Dervish musicians.

In the first millennium BC, inhabitants from Mithymna started to colonise Assos, here just north across the water, in modern Turkey.

Assos reached its zenith in the 4^th century BC.

That really IS a narrow set of steps!

Bargaining for stuff we don’t want on the way up.

Plato’s most famous student, Aristotle, carried out much of his research into life sciences here and formulated a basis for biology that endured right up to the 16^th century.

The ruined city once stretched from the sea to the top of an extinct volcanic cone...

Where the temple to Athena (6^th Century BC) once stood.

The spectacular view ‘back home’ to Lesvos must have been great for the settlers.

Meanwhile, a strange set of slashes in our genoa has to be fixed, while I change the alternator.

Our sailing companions for a week, Ulla and Juergen from Berlin, joined us for a trip inland from Dikili to Pergamum – the famous Zeus altar was here ... it’s now in Berlin!

Perched above the modern town of Bergama, the great acropolis of Pergamum (8^th century BC) offers a dramatic view south and westwards, with theatre seating for around 10,000.

The marble temple of Trajan – the Turks (with the Germans), as usual, do a great job of restoring enough to get the idea.

In 133BC, Pergamum became the capital of the Roman province of Asia Minor.

On the plane below, is the sanctuary of Asklepios, the great god of healing...

In one of the earliest large scale medical centres, here the barrel shaped treatment centre linked to the pools in the centre of a courtyard ...

... by a cool, sunlit tunnel.

A short shuffle to the theatre may be the best tonic?!

Back in Dikili and a fabulous, typical Turkish fruit and veg weekly market. This lady was, unusually, highly amused to have her photo taken.

Stocked up for the week, we’re back at anchor, by a natural hot spring at Bademli, complete with a hammam – not very hygienic , so we just went for the foot bath.

At Port Saip, on the spectacular Karaburun peninsular we said goodbye to Ulla and Juergen after a jolly night. Next stop Cesme, to pick up Brenda’s parents, Eva and David.

A History lesson on Gallipoi, New friends and a brief visit to Greece

2009-09-05T00:14:00.000-07:00

The Island of Marmara was worth a visit though we only stayed long enough to climb above the small town and then we were on our way again, skipping downwind at speeds in excess of 10 knots with a strong 3 -5 knot current and 20 - 30 knot wind with us. As usual pushing the limits of DB we had all sails up and successfully negotiated our first gibe. We were happily sailing dead downwind when a wake from a passing ship caught DB’s and we rolled rather ominously. The sea was building and the wind had crept up.

“If DB was a dingy we would have capsized then - I am going down below to close the hatches” I told Andy as I went down the companion way. I did not get far

“Brenda, Brenda I need you on deck!”

I felt DB heal over further than usual and slew round. I rushed back up and found Andy hanging onto the tiller for dear life - DB had broached caused by the building sea knocking us round. We use a preventer on the boom which stops a crash gibe (when the boom swings rapidly from one side of the boat to the other - this can bring a mast down) but the down side is that, if DB does slew round, you lose steerage completely and have a backed sail. The spinnaker was still full of wind but instead of in front of the boat it was now on the side. In other words we were now sailing sideways. We let the spinnaker fly allowing it to stream out from the top of the mast, Andy had started the engine and still appeared to be struggling to get DB back downwind and I could see the spinnaker was about to get wrapped around the rigging so went forward to release the preventer.

“Watch your hands - don’t get rope burn” Andy yelled at me.

Too late. But it wasn’t my hands, my back was stinging and my shirt was caught between the lifeline and preventer. I used the cleat to pay out the line slowly (lowering my back and retrieving my torn shirt first) and we managed to do a fairly controlled gibe, steer downwind and retrieved the spinnaker. No boat damage just a 3 inch burn on my back and a huge hole in a new shirt.

Later we discussed what had happened. My assumption had been that Andy was trying to steer back downwind when he started the engine but I was wrong. He had thought steering up into the wind was better as it would take the pressure off the preventer but after talking it through we agreed that next time our reactions should be to steer back downwind because, if we had gone head to wind, we would have had the full force of 30 knots of wind plus the spinnaker around the rigging. This is the first time for months that we have not had the same solution in our mind when something goes amiss and actually ended up working against each other - we have sailed together for so long we rarely need to say anything but this, after all, was our first broach.

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We arrived back in Canakkale a bit earlier than we intended - our journey had been rather faster than we had predicted - and so the wind was still blowing its daytime strength. Canakkale is a very hard harbour to enter with cross currents and high winds affecting it. Everyone has their own way of coping - the Turkish use full throttle but we favour a more stately approach (I know J.M thinks I use too much throttle but he should see the macho Turks!!) but despite all the help and shouted instructions (which I generally ignore), with no bow thrusters or boat to stop us it was impossible not to end up alongside instead of stern-to! We just stayed calm and pulled ourselves stern-to with the offered bow-line. (Later, a motor boat collected the bowline, went back out while fixing it, then came back in to fix the stern lines - something we will try next time we have such conditions).

“We had the same problem” The nice lady on the small yacht next to us offered.

“So did we last time - we didn’t see anyone not have a problem last time we were here. The poor harbour masters here have permanent worry lines on their faces.”

“Yes and also they are hoarse from yelling at people. A motor yacht just gave up trying to moor”.

Thus we met Ursula (Ula) and her husband Juergen. They were from Berlin, on a home-build steel sailing yacht and had recently left the Danube after motoring all the way from Germany.

“The best time of my life” Juergen smiled at us.

We had returned to Canakkale to visit the Gallipoli Peninsula on the other side of the Dardanelles - so we took a ferry for the short crossing and took a tour that came highly recommended. It is only when you sail up to Istanbul and study the charts closely that you realise how strategically important the Dardanelles and the Gallipoli Peninsula are. If you control these, along with the Sea of Marmara, you are able to take Constantinople (Istanbul), control the Bosphorus thereby controlling all access to Russia and all other countries with sea ports on the Black Sea. In 1915 the Allies (Britain with the commonwealth Australia, NZ, Canada and India and France) decided that the peninsula was there for the taking. The Allies made so many mistakes over a period of nine months that the Turks with joint German and Turkish command were able to successfully defend the peninsula but only after 500,000 young men and boys from both sides either died or were maimed. It is a terrible bit of recent history - demonstrating the futility of war. However, this fight over Gallipoli and the Dardanelles played a big part in shaping modern day Turkey as Mustafa Kemel Ataturk was one of the successful Turkish commanders and became the Republic of Turkeys first President in 1923. Also, because of the respect the Allies had for the Turkish Army after their experience on Gallipoli, Turkey was allowed to keep the territory after Germany lost the war.

But perhaps it could have all been avoided if the British had not gone back on a deal made just before war broke out. The Turks had raised money by a special tax to buy two war ships from Britain (thus every Turk felt it was their ship) and had paid over the money but Britain reneged on the deal, fearing the ships would be used against them, so Germany stepped in and offered two ships free of charge. But, of course, nothing comes free and before delivery the Germans, dressed as Turkish soldiers, sailed up into the Black Sea and attacked Russia. Turkey was accused of the attack and so was brought into the war despite trying to be neutral up to that point. In WW2 Turkey managed to maintain neutrality and to this day Turkey likes to think of themselves as the “Switzerland“ of this region.

The peninsula is now a national park covered in trees. No houses are allowed to be built as there are so many bodies buried close to the surface - the whole place is now a war memorial. It is beautiful but there are plenty of reminders in the form of monuments and name plates as you drive around the area. Whole battalions of ANZAC men died in hours when they were put ashore on the wrong beach. Badly dressed and poorly equipped Turkish men died in trenches which were full of bodies and freezing mud in the winter - many from dysentery. British men died of thirst in the hot summer. Men on both sides were killed or maimed by cluster bombs. Hundreds died by drowning when the British Navy tried to sail up the Dardanelles after they thought it had been cleared of mines but had left enough time for the Turks to relay them. And so the catalogue of horrors goes on….

“Those heroes that shed their blood
And lost their lives
You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country
Therefore rest in peace.
There is no difference between the Jonnies
And the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side
Here in this country of ours
You, the mothers,
Who sent their sons from far away countries
Wipe away your tears,
Your sons are now lying in our bosom
And are in Peace
After having lost their lives on this land
They have become our sons as well. "
Mustafa Kemel Ataturk

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We sailed out of the Dardanelles like a cork out of a bottle - but not before a further mini disaster - on one gybe in 40 knots of wind this time - 10 out of 17 sliders on our mast broke meaning our main sail was barely attached to the mast. We should have been reefed…. At least we didn’t have the spinnaker up this time! We made fast passage to the small Turkish island of Bozcaada, one of only two Turkish inhabited islands. Here we were once again alongside Ursula (Ula) and Juergen, with a beautiful Jeanneau 54DS the other. Gerda and Antone from Holland made themselves known to us - Gerda was hanging out her washing and I made some comment about how hard it is to find a laundry.

“Oh, we are live-aboard so we have a washing machine!” She seemed aghast when I told her we were also live-aboard, looking little DB up and down, but quickly recovered “I think they offer a laundry service here”.

Later all four of them came on board for drinks and after finishing all our cold wine Gerda, Anton, Andy and I went looking for a restaurant. The town of Bozcaada is pretty in a very Greek way, with narrow cobbled roads covered by archways of vines and little family run restaurants clustered under the shade. By now it was dark and late enough for the Turks to be out eating (about 10pm). Andy seemed to know where he was going, soon had us sitting round a table eating some wonderfully fresh, tasty mezes and drinking yet more of the excellent local wine. We can safely say that the wine is good on Bozcaada - we tried a fair few of them - and despite talking into the small hours Gerda and Anton had left when we got up in the morning. They were on their way up to Istanbul against strong wind and tide to pick up some charterers (they supplement their income this way) - DB could never have made it but they had a much more powerful engine than us so would have no difficulty. They own a house in Bodrum and told us we “MUST” come and visit after 19th September …

“come on - you will still have a week to get to Marmaris before your boat is hauled out. Drinking partners - you must come”.

They were a lovely couple with an unusual story. Gerda is one of Antons wife’s younger sisters (she had four) but his wife sadly died in 2002 of a heart attach literally hours after a full doctors check up where she had been given a clean bill of health at the age of 51. Anton and his wife had obviously been childhood sweethearts as he said Gerda and he had known each other all their lives. Their relationship works well Gerda said

“We can cry or laugh together about our memories”

They were obviously very happy together - very comfortable relationship and we liked them. Their boat is the first sailing yacht they have ever owned but they have obviously taken to sailing big time.

Ula and Juergen decided it was too much of a risk for them to slip into Greece so we arranged to meet up later and they stayed in Turkey while we sailed over to Mithimna on the North of Lesvos. Lesvos is so close to Turkey at this point that many yachts do the same thing and questions are not asked though papers are scrutinised in some sort of charade. Since lraving Istanbul the wind has been blowing force 4-7 everyday, the air is cool (less than 30C) and the sea has been cold but as we turned the peninsula of Turkey towards Lesvos the wind switched off and the heat switched on. I felt the sea and it was noticeably warmer. As we approached Mithimna we could see that it was unspoilt - built from local grey granite - it reminded me a bit of a Cornish fishing village. We entered the tiny harbour by motor and had lots of help from the only two other sailing yachts already there. I immediately dived into the beautiful clear water.

Many Greeks we meet in these Northern and Eastern Sporades islands are return home ex-pats having lived in mainly Australia or the UK previously. One such family ran the Captains Table where we ate the second evening - after I had recovered from the first bout of stomach upset I have had on this trip. The waitress - a 20 year old from Australia - told us that everyone in the town had had the same sickness. Great - I must have contracted it when I swam the afternoon before. The two waiters - identical brothers aged about 16, from Wigan and cousins of the waitress - complained about the lack of anything to do on Lesvos.

“Its OK if you come here on holiday but in the winter it is completely dead - everything closes. I miss my mates in Wigan. Though I suppose the weather is better here.”

Nicholas owned another café we used a couple of times. When we returned he was so pleased to see us we wondered if we were his only customer! He had returned to Mithimna two years ago with his new wife after studying in Cambridge at the University of East Anglia.

“I used to go there too and I lived in Gwydir Street”

“That was where I lived too!!”

We compared notes but things had changed since I did my A levels there in the mid 1970’s, 30 years before he was there!!!

We asked for the bill.

“Five Euros for the two beers - is that OK?”

“Why? Is it negotiable!”

“No!” he laughed. We gave him his 5 euros.

We were surprised at how many Brits there were in town - the most oversees tourists we have seen this summer. Mithimna is a good quality resort and a nice place to end up on a one week holiday .

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Mithimna is directly opposite the village of Behram Kale on the Turkish coast and was first settled from people from Mithimna. As we tried to moor in the ancient harbour we could see the strong resemblance. Behram Kale is the modern name of Assos which was built in the 5 century BC. We gave up trying to find a safe spot - it was just too shallow - and anchored off instead. The harbour had a cluster of impressive large stone built hotels surrounding it and above we could see evidence of ancient ruins. We rowed ashore and wandered through the one narrow street before climbing up towards the ruins. We were staggered to find an amphitheatre half way up - the local dark grey granite looking like modern concrete - with the most amazing views across to Lesvos and down to Ayvalik Bay. Above the theatre we could see some of the most impressive town wall - apparently this wall once stretched 3 kms and rivalled any other in Europe (though compared to some of the still intact Chinese walls not so impressive!) . We scrabbled to the wall and found the original road had been exposed so followed it.

We had not expected to find a complete village the other side of the hill - obviously inhabited and built from the same local stone. The cobbled street was lined with elderly ladies selling tablecloths, bags and other homemade trinkets and then at the very top a temple ruin with again amazing views.

We overheard a bit of a commotion. The elderly lady sitting on the street was crying. She was dressed in traditional blouse and long skirt with headscarf and, incongruously, huge bottle bottom glasses. The ticket man had gone to comfort her and she was jabbering away, stopping to wipe her tears every few minutes. I could not understand what she was saying but I had seen two incidents that may have upset her. A German tourist with a huge camera had approached her as if she were a monkey, given her a coin and then proceeded to take photos of her despite her protests. It would have been a nice photo but somehow seemed dis-respectful to me. Then a group stopped to look at her wares and after seeing what she had, walked away saying something to her in Turkish - obviously not a little bit interested in what she was selling.

I decided to buy something from her. I went to look. There was nothing I liked or wanted - just cheaply printed squares of material - not even hemmed but an orange woven sarong caught my eye so I asked how much. She said “Besh” - five. So even though I did not really want it I gave her 5TL and took the orange material. She stopped me and swapped my sarong with a hideous printed piece I wouldn’t have given 1TL for - in fact she would have needed to pay me to take it. 5TL was a very fair price for the sarong and I could not understand why she continued to say “Besh” but wouldn’t let me have it. My 5TL had disappeared so getting my money back was not an option. With a bit of help from a Turkish tourist I realised she wanted 5 Euros - twice as much as I had given her. I was not prepared to give her this much (5TL buys a meal in a restaurant) so gave up and took a small embroidered bag, regretting my charity.

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We sailed, spinnaker up, but this time not fast enough for the dolphins that came to look, to Ayvalik Bay where we met up with Ula and Juergen again. They were pleased to see us and told us to come for drinks and food immediately, serving up as soon as we arrived as if they had been waiting all day for this moment.

The water was not good and we saw a huge jelly fish just as I was about to dive into the green waters of this enclosed bay. I did not swim.

We had some repairs to see to. We have a new battery but it has stopped charging - a bit of a disaster. Andy had tests to do on the Alternator and battery management system. Also our genoa has a series of small slit shaped holes in it which I needed to repair - as if a dagger has been thrown at the rolled up sail and gone through several layers. On closer inspection I realised that the sail was burnt. Then I realised what had happened. It is Ramazam (the Muslims month of fasting during the hours of sun) at the moment and at sunset each evening a huge banging firework is let off so people know they can start eating and drinking until sunrise. When we were in Chanakkale this firework was let off up wind of us and very close to the boat. A hot cinder must have blown into the sail causing these holes. Our poor sail looks 10 years old not one. It is black from all the pollution we have encountered, has a badly stitched repair when the UV strip came unstuck and now a series of holes. One well used sail. It has sailed 5,000 sea miles though - more than most, so I guess we should not complain.

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We sailed to Dikili - a small working fishing harbour - and were welcomed by men moving small fishing boats so we could go stern to. Dikili is not a pretty place but we liked it as here Turkish life just goes on without the encumbrance of tourists. Apart from using the town as a jumping off point to visit the Ancient Greek site of Pergamon we also did some proper shopping. By proper shopping I mean shopping as the locals do and not using supermarkets. This is the first time we have been able to get to a farmers market for some weeks and I was like a pig in mud - what a fabulous array of beautiful fruit, vegetables and herbs. As usual I bought too much but for such a small amount of money - bag fulls of red peppers for less than 1TL, kilos of peaches, figs and pears for less than 2TL per kilo, wonderful tasty olives and dried fruit for 5TL per kilo. Fresh fish bought from the fishermen and hooray lovely bread (actually unusual in Turkey) and hard to resist sticky baklava. You can live very well on very little money in Turkey and buying these foods is such a pleasure - smiling toothless faces greet you and the extra piece of fruit always slipped into your bag.
We left Dikili with 4,994 miles sailed since 1st July 2008. By the time we had arrived at Bademli Limani on 1st September 2009 - an idyllic anchorage we had passed 5000 miles!!! This is a real milestone. In exactly 14 months we have sailed from Split, Croatia to Venice. From Venice, Italy to Dubrovnik and then on to Athens, Greece, Port Said in Egypt and finally Istanbul before turning South for the final leg to Marmaris, Turkey. We have met some wonderful people and seen some incredible sights but best of all Andy and I have enjoyed each others company 99% of the time!
The sea at Bademli was the most inviting we have seen for some weeks and we immediately dived in and had a proper swim without worrying about passing jellyfish. There are natural hot springs here and even a Haman but we were not enticed by the green hot waters surrounded by the debris of many Turkish picnickers - why oh why don’t they take their rubbish home with them? Who do they think will pick it up after them when there is no habitation for miles? My theory is that they get cross too but not with the litterers but with the authorities who they consider are not performing the cleaning-up-after-them role properly.

We were still sailing in the company of our new friends Ula and Juergen and we sailed together to Port Saip which proved to be a non-place. However, dolphins greeted us as we arrived and the HUGE fishing trawlers were hand pulled forward so there was enough room for us both on the quay. There was no obvious habitation around the port but the low porta-cabin like building opposite us seemed very popular and was full of men watching an extremely loud TV playing some inane soap and women sitting at tables gossiping. This is a fairly unusual sight especially as the women were dressed in a western style. No-one was eating or drinking as this is still Ramadan and we felt self conscious as we were thirsty and hungry so went below to surreptitiously have a beer and some nuts to keep us going until sunset.

We are on our way to Cesme where we pick up my parents for the last two weeks of our “Gap Year for Adults”. There is a real end of term feel on board DB. Since Fay left us at the end of July she has managed to get a place at Bristol to study for a Nursing Degree which starts in January 2010. This gives her time to sort out accommodation but also time to sail - she called us to let us know she is leaving Monday 7th September to crew on Leopard 3 for her crossing to S. France and on her return she leaves for Africa to do some voluntary work. “You have to be home by 5th October as I leave for Africa on the 10th” - so there you have it, we will be home by the 5th October. Piers has been working very hard at JP Morgan Chase Bank and seems to have got himself noticed - we have been amazed and delighted at the things they have had him do and the responsibility they have given him. Talk about having to hit the ground running, but Piers always rises well to this sort of challenge and we are so proud of him. He finishes his internship on 17th September and returns to Manchester and his final year at University.

One last anchorage before Cesme and preparing Deep Blue for her last visitors of 2009 was the small deserted inlet of Egri Limani and we enjoyed our, probably, last day of naked swimming and sunbathing for 2009.

Gallipoli photos

2009-08-28T00:03:00.001-07:00

On the way back down the sea of Marmara from Istanbul we had brisk following winds Force 5-7 every day (one spinnaker broach, one crash gybe from the waves).

A calm respite on the Island of Marmara.

The vast scale of some of the modern shipping off Gallipoli.

We took a very informative and moving tour of the ANZAC war-graves and landings.

In March 1915, Churchill’s idea was, with 18 warships amassed, the peninsular protecting the entrance to the Dardanelles could simply be taken from the sea. He didn't reckon on the ferocity and determination of the Turks: 6 huge warships were sunk in one day, one going down in 3 minutes, with great loss of life.

The ensuing land assault took a staggering 6 weeks to start - plenty of time for the German commander of the 5th battalion to reinforce his Turkish forces. The months of fire fighting was tremendous and horrific.

The much disputed landing place for the (as yet, untried) ANZAC forces on the west of the peninsular...

This terrain must have been awful to behold on a perfect dawn. 3 graves of Indian allies in foreground.

We heard a diary extract from today's date from a surviving Kiwi, and also of his first day landing experience. Awful chaos.

The words of Mustafa Kemal - Ataturk - at the terrible loss of allied life were both wise and very moving. PLEASE READ (if you can).

Lone pine - more than 8000 Australian's lost their lives over the disastrous 9 month campaign, plus many thousands of Kiwis and French; plus hundreds of Canadians, Indians and Nepalese dying for 'king and country'. Even a few Americans, who found themselves in the ANZAC forces. The main losses were overwhelmingly English and Turkish.

Once there though, the order from Kitchener was to 'dig in'. The trenches near the summit of Chunuk Bair were only 7 metres apart.

Famously, a Turk, having waved his undershorts as a white flag, delivered the seriously wounded British captain back to his line.

The Turks actually lost more men, helped by the constant shelling from the sea.

Ataturk ordered them '"...not to fight, but to die!"

Wave after wave of Turkish troops succeeded in retaking the high ground, which despite British reinforcements from that beautiful bay, was never lost again.

The view the allies sought to control - east to the Dardanelles (Chanakkale and Deep Blue at harbour in the distance).

The vast, stark Turkish war memorial on the tip of the Gallipoli peninsular, near the French memorial, the hollowed out shape serves as a fitting reminder of the emptiness of the campaign and loss of life for no gain.

Russia's 'ice free' sea route, in via the Black Sea, is still of vital strategic importance.

Out of the Dardanelles but still in very strong winds, we spent two very pleasant nights on one of the two Turkish Islands in the Aegean - this is Bozcaada.

The view east, to the entrance of the Dardanelles.

Some fine beaches on the west coast, but MAN! that water is COLD!! (from the constant north east winds of the last week).

Istanbul, Mr. Bond and Dolphins

2009-08-22T23:11:00.000-07:00

Istanbul is a huge city straddling the Bosphorus Strait which links the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara. The old city is on the European side bordered by the Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmara and when we sailed into the marina we could see the Blue Mosque, Haghia Sophia and the Topapi Palace across the water.

Our friend First Class Susie arrived on Monday and we were keen to whisk her away to Princes Islands where we hoped she would enjoy the beaches and some relaxation. The islands are a fascinating mixture of military, crumbling wooden mansions, new swanky mansions, forest and horse and carriage (no cars allowed). The timber houses are some of the last remaining Ottoman houses in Istanbul. Most are badly neglected even though they are protected as they are very expensive to renovate and impossible to insure. I think Andy and I were somewhat more relaxed than Susie who found the slight swell caused by the passing ferries disturbing to the extent that she was actually sea sick on anchor! She put a very brave face on it and kept assuring us she was fine but was visibly relieved when we returned to the Marina and promised we would stay there until she left!

Apart from sight-seeing our time in Istanbul was filled with meeting up with our friends and sampling the nightlife. Mr Bond (Serdar) figured large on the scene - especially, we noticed, after he met Susie. We learnt a lot more about life in Turkey through him, especially from his stories about being in the army. Serdar‘s main international claim to fame is that 10 years ago he was the body-double / stunt man for Pierce Brosnan in Turkey and jumped from a 20metre high tower into the sea of Marmara in March! It turns out that he was also a child TV star in Turkey. He is a handsome man and in photos looks very like P.B. He is a quietly spoken, modest and spiritual man and we talked about many things. He told us

“ When in Army doing my National Service I was very young. I am told I am a Turkish hero - like Rambo.” He flexes his muscles which are, I have to say, impressive. “I like this. I told to jump from plane and throw bomb, perhaps into a cave or a house. I had to do this many times. I was told to make sure everyone was dead then leave. Told they were PKK terrorists.. But now I am older and I think ‘were they really terrorists or just some poor farming family who lives in a cave? I have terrible nightmares. The government just leaves you. They do not care.’”

We had several meals together as we enjoyed each others company. One night he took us out into Istanbul - we had lots of fun but by mid-night everywhere was closed. The Turks do not party on weekdays especially during Ramazam (fasting period for Muslims) which has just started.

Cenk and his sister Deniz came for breakfast bringing FIFTEEN Turkish films for us as, when we met in Tomb bay, we had discussed the Turkish books and films we had seen, some Turkish music we had heard him play and some breads and special Turkish cream (very like clotted cream). As when we met him before we had discussions about Kurds, politics and art. Everyone we meet is surprised at how much we know about Turkish politics but we tell them.

“We love the Turkish people. They are so hospitable. They go out of their way to help us and we want to understand the different wonderful people of your country.”

“Unfortunately we have a bad government at the moment. For instance the growing number of women wearing head-scarves - this is very bad. I hope in the next election in 2 years time Attaturks party will get back in but I am not hopeful. The ARC have such a large majority.”

We discussed the Turkish tax on luxury goods and the fact that most wealthy yacht owners avoid the tax by flying a USA flag of convenience. We thought the law had changed so that boats had to be registered in Turkey.

“No, all they have done is changed the name of the tax and now included cars as well. When we sail to Greece the Greeks laugh at us - everywhere they are flying the Greek flag and they tease us ‘and who’s country is it?’ It is embarrassing that no-one flies the Turkish flag on their yacht.”.

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Susie had come bearing gifts - for me she had a most beautiful Jaeger Hollywood / Oscar style silk dress - a cast-off sample - and some champagne courtesy B.A! Whenever I wear it I, of course, have to be served drinks on the aft deck from then on! My new style matches the style of many of the people with yachts in this marina. We are a bit of a novelty here as the marina is full of yachts belonging to very wealthy ‘Stanbulians. The only reason we can be here is because many have taken their yachts South for their summer holidays. Sometimes we get back to our berth to find Deep Blue has been moved. A look round the car-park is a car buffs heaven. There are many rare and expensive models here including several in new matt black - an Audi R8 and an Audi S5, several very special Porsches including those horrid 4-wheel drive versions, more Ferraris’ than I thought were ever made …you get the picture. The marina bars and restaurants are outrageously expensive. A gin and tonic costs £10 and a small local beer not much less. We actually had to pay £12 each just to enter one bar when it was the only one left open after 2am. But both Susie and I were dressed to the nines and we were “in the groove” so we paid only to find it was a crowded corridor with just one smelly toilet and a DJ playing pretty bad “Turkish house”. We made the most of it!!

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We were so pleased to see Banu again. We were having lunch at the yacht club again and just as we finished eating she walked onto the terrace. She looked great but a little tired. She has had a hard summer - her Grandmother died, her Grandfather is very ill and is on a life support machine and her mother is also struggling with a bad knee and needs help. But as always we were able to get some answers about the environmental problems we are witnessing and hear more about her work. She fronts the Oceans Campaign in Turkey for GreenPeace and she told us that Rainbow Warrior is coming.

“We leave Istanbul with Rainbow Warrior on 6^th September and we are sailing slowly down to Marmaris via Izmir and Datca. We are visiting fishing communities - to support the small fishermen. The Government only thinks in terms of the number of fishing boats and not the capacity so what is happening is that the small fishermen are being discouraged and single owner large fishing boat fleets are appearing. The headline number of fishing boats is decreasing but over-fishing increases. We are having a flotilla of small boats following Rainbow so if you are around it would be great if you joined us”.

We will be around.

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We spent three days (the days we were not recovering from talking late into the night) sight-seeing. Istanbul is very full of tourists but not many “European” tourists. We have been surprised at how few people speak English here but then many of the tourists are Muslims from Turkey, Asia, India and Africa. Old Istanbul is impressive and we were pleased to note that the air pollution we suffered 21 years ago when we brought Piers has been cleaned up considerably. Banu told us that most heating and cooking now is natural gas from Russia where as before everyone used solid fuel.

“Though with the trouble this winter over the gas pipeline people started to use solid fuel again”

The public transport system worked very well and we used Dolmus (shared taxi), ferry and tram on a regular basis. We visited the usual sights including the amazing underground Cistern that the Byzantines built to water the palace gardens. It is like an underground cathedral full of water (it holds 100,000 tonnes of water!) and fish - quite intriguing. Somehow though, for me anyway, after the wonders of Egypt nothing quite seems to match up.

We left Istanbul a little reluctantly after saying a sad goodbye to Susie to sail back towards the Aegean. The wind was blowing in the right direction (for a very big change) and of course we have the currents with us too. The wind was actually blowing a lot and we soon had the spinnaker up as the wind was directly behind us. In 20 knots of wind and a following sea we were soon sailing between 6 and 8 knots. As the wind increased and the sea grew we started to reach speeds in excess of 9 knots. We decided it was time to drop the spinnaker! But still we were haring along. We even saw speeds of over 10 knots with a passage maximum of 10.7 knots.

We were making for the Island of Marmara - a 70nm passage. We had left a little later than intended as the marina office did not opened until 9 and we had to check out. The marina is really not set up for visiting yachts (for instance they could not tell me how to get bottled gaz for cooking and the ablutions facilities are very basic as most yachts kept here are only used on a daily basis) but all of the staff have been very friendly and we had a warm send off as we left at about 10 am. By 7.00pm we were nearly at our destination, still surfing the waves as the sun started to set.

“This is the time that you see dolphins ” and no sooner had I said these words than Andy yelled

“Dolphins on the starboard side” and thus started the best sighting of dolphins yet.

DB was obviously the point of attraction. We were sailing at speeds in excess of 7 knots and the dolphins were racing the boat, diving under the boat, surfing the same waves as DB.

“There are two big ones, two metres.”

“No they are small, no more than a metre”

“Then there must be at least four!.”

The biggest dolphin came to have a good look at us and I made eye contact. They swam with us for nearly one hour and left us just as we came into the tiny harbour on this tiny island that is the namesake of this small sea. Our 70 nautical miles had taken us just 10 hours of sailing - the best passage yet.

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