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.
Sunday, 28 August 2011
Monday, 15 August 2011
Aug-11 back on Deep Blue - to Crete!
Back in Bristol – again – for a lovely few days with Fay who's broken up for the summer from her nursing degree.
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!
...before returning to Marmaris, to finish off the lightning damage repair work on Deep Blue and to celebrate our 27th wedding anniversary!
The main reason also for being here is that we are race crew on the 43m schooner, This is Us, for the 3rd 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.
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).
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
People Watching
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.
*********************************************************************************
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.
******************
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.
**********************************************************************************
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!)
**********************************************************************************
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!
“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.
*********************************************************************************
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.
******************
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.
**********************************************************************************
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!)
**********************************************************************************
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!
Sunday, 20 February 2011
Preparing to leave (?) with wonderful memories
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
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