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.
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