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"There's always a plan, but unexpected things happen and we just go with the flow. Though I do believe that fate and destiny often play their part"
sailing blog
Got back from a twelve day hop to Corfu on Saturday. The first three nights were spent in a rather swanky studio apartment right in the heart of Corfu Old Town. It was a last hurrah to a place we adore.....a maze of ancient cobbled alleyways, fabulous architecture and top notch tavernas. We sampled it all. Thanks to him, the batteries were charged, the water tank was full, the heads had been kept operational and the engine was fully serviced. He'd also done a list of other maintenance and repair jobs, so a quick clean inside and out was all that was required from us, apart from putting on the sails of course. Having said that, after sixteen years, it was time to order a new sprayhood and bimini, both now being made and fitted by Giatras whilst we're back home. They did the all-over cover a couple of years ago, so we know them well. The marina divers also came and gave Comino's bottom a scrub. They said the antifoul was great for another year and the propeller now looked like a mirror. All the sacrificial anodes were 70% intact, so no need to replace them yet. Paying €150 for this work is a fraction of the cost of lifting the boat and re-doing the antifoul, which we'll do every two years going forward. I'm writing this from the UK, but we're going back to Gouvia Marina soon and after stocking up with supplies we'll slip our lines and meander down to Lefkas via Lakka in Paxos and Two Rock Bay on the mainland. The plan is to arrive at the marina on 13th June. Our new berth for the next twelve months awaits, as does a whole heap of islands to explore down in the Southern Ionian. We're prepped and ready to go - can't wait.
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Just returned from a nostalgic trip to Malta, on a jet this time. It was only four nights, but we had a wonderful re-union bash with our dear friends who we haven't seen for four years, mainly due to you know what! There was also a whirlwind tour of all our favourite haunts around the island, including the spectacular Valletta.
Comino was based in Malta from September 2013 until June 2018 and looking back it almost feels like we had a non-stop five year party. In reality, it was just an amazing social experience as Maltese family and friends seem to meet up much more regularly than we do. Even weekday saing is part of their lifestyle. A little gathering at home, or on a boat, with a glass of vino and a plateful of fine food is simply the normal way of life and doesn't involve any over indulgence. For this reason, there is simply no concept of "not on a school night". Weekends were, of course, spent sailing with several boats and things did get a little more lively after sun down! No wonder we stayed so long back then. Our 2022 travels have now concluded. Having spent 87 days in the EU we can sleep comfortably knowing that, in the eyes of Brexit regulations, all is legal and above board. We've got several pages of passport stamps to prove it. I'm going to have a moan. One of the consequences of BREXIT that directly affects us is the 90 day rule. This (crazy) law says we can only spend 90 days in the EU out of a rolling 180 days. It's easy to get your knickers in a twist trying to work out when your time is up and when extra days start becoming available to you again, because of the rolling effect. Luckily, there's a great website that does all the calculating for you. Just input all your dates abroad and it shows you everything you need to know. The alternative is to spend 3 years doing a maths degree! That was a long winded way of saying our final trip of the year was planned with the 90 day rule in mind, due to our previous two stints on the boat. Arriving in Greece on 30th August and departing on 26th September took us up to 82 days. This gives us a bit of wiggle room in case we zip over to Malta in November to catch-up with our clan over there. It would be the first time in four years. We'll see. So, in just under a month, we did some little sails, plus a slightly longer trip to a delightful harbour called Kassiopi, up on the North East coast of Corfu. As we were preparing to leave Gouvia, I was stood on the pontoon minding my own business when a deep and very audible thud occurred. It only lasted a second or two, but the ground shuddered and the water rippled. I instinctively knew it was a small earthquake, which we found out later measured just 3.1. I can now imagine how something stronger would scare the pants off you. We booked three nights on the concrete jetty at Kassiopi as there are only seven places available and it's very popular. This is done through a web site called sammyacht.com - very quick and efficient. It took us two hours to motor there from Gouvia (typically no wind to speak of and no dolphins either) and there is just one set of dangerous rocks to avoid en-route, clearly marked with a large Easterly Cardinal Buoy. Apart from that, the autopilot did all the hard work and we sat back and admired the spectacular coastline forests, cliffs and posh private villas you could only ever dream of owning. Navigation these days is done on my iPhone, using a Navionics app. You simply touch where you're starting from, tap the destination and it instantly shows the route in the form of a red line on the backdrop of a fully detailed nautical chart. When you press start, your position is shown as an arrow and it moves along the line as you move. You know exactly where you are at all times, including speed, time to destination and even fuel consumption. Completely bonkers really.....to think I studied very hard for a year to get my Yachtmaster qualification, which involved many hours of detailed paper chart work. Kassiopi is the perfect spot - end of. It's a small town loaded with tavernas and bars overlooking the quaint harbour, all of them having a slightly upmarket feel. There's one pedestrianised street lined with boutiques and tourist shops, but again very bo ho and stylish. Here are some pics of our time in Kassiopi.
On the sail back from Kassiopi, we hugged the shoreline so we could get an even closer look at the many interesting things along the way. In particular, we passed the Rothschilds Estate - a sizeable plot with an old fortress and several very large villas. I suspect there's much more hidden behind the trees. This is where Charles and Camilla regularly come for private vacations. I doubt very much that the richest family in the world would charge them for board and lodgings. I think the technical term for this kind of holiday is "freeloading". We also wafted by the stunning Venetian Mansion at Kouloura Bay, built in the 16th Century for a Venetian Nobleman. It's now a fancy taverna owned by descendants of the original family. Motor boats, with their shallow drafts, can venture into the small harbour, but us yotties would run aground in the very shallow water. I mentioned earlier that we did a bit of pottering around to our usual haunts. Kalami is a favourite place for the odd one or two nighter. The water is gin clear and at night it's great to watch the comings and goings at the Durrel's old house - now The White House restaurant. That pic of Halcyon above is very poignant. Who would have imagined that just two months later she would be totally destroyed. Here's the story. Whilst we were in Kassiopi we saw reports and footage of a massive fire in Gouvia Marina. It started on a 60 foot motorboat on a pontoon thankfully some distance from our berth. It quickly spread to another three boats moored around it, one of which was Halcyon. By the time the fire boat arrived from Igoumenitsa on the mainland, it was too late. The boats were totally engulfed in flames and thick black smoke rose hundreds of feet into the sky. As the fire boat hoses poured water onto the flaming vessels, they filled up and sank. About a week later we watched Halcyon being lifted from the seabed and taken to the quay near to our pontoon. Disaster struck again. One of the strops snapped and she plunged back into the water and sank again. The next day the lift was more successful and she was deposited on the shore alongside a machine that smashed her to tiny pieces, ready to be transported away. What a sad end to a classic boat. On a happier note, this trip included a day or two at the marina pool, plus a day at a little apartment complex close by that always welcomes us with open arms. Again, a spot of lunch and a cold beer or two is the price we have to pay. I can live with that! And so, on 26th September, before departing, we cleaned and tidied Comino ready for the long winter afloat on our mooring berth at Gouvia. All the canvas and sails are off and a few days ago our trusty people from Giatras put the all-over cover on. We have another trusty maintenance guy who will visit Comino twice a month to run the engine, top up the batteries, flush the loo and run the taps. It's better to keep the boat in running order rather than shut it down completely for six months. The same applies to me really! One final issue to be addressed. We went to Lefkas Marina in July with the specific intention of seeing if we might want to move there next year. It's the gateway to the Southern Ionian, which is a whole new adventure playground for us. Many more islands, a myriad of exotic anchorages and dozens of new villages and towns to explore. Amazingly, we've been offered a berth at the first attempt and they've given us 30 days to accept or decline. Is change in the wind? Watch this space. On the day of departure back to the boat there was a little bit of trepidation and even a hint of fear as we set off. Going to the airport on 13th June was right in the middle of daily horror stories in the media about last minute flight cancellations, massive queues at check-in and security, all caused by staff shortages. Even worse were take-off delays of up to four hours, often sat in the plane on the tarmac. So, yes, there was definitely a degree of apprehension as we travelled to Bristol, but mostly we were excited to be heading off for a six week stint on the boat with plans to restore our sense of adventure. Phew....we needn't have worried. It took all of five minutes to check-in our luggage and just ten minutes to get through security. We'd barely waved goodbye to our chauffeur (son James) before we were sat in the departure lounge feeling very relieved indeed, but sad for the people who were caught up in the travel nightmares at other airports. Thankfully, we also took off broadly on time too. At the other end it was just as quick and there were plenty of taxis available despite the late hour. This meant we had time for a swift nightcap at the Telesilla Hotel before retiring to a big comfy bed for the last time in a while. Staying at the hotel just outside the marina for our first night is now standard practice, rather than clambering onto Comino in darkness at one in the morning. Being a bit older and a bit wiser, we try to make travelling as comfortable as possible these days. So, on 14th June, we moved onto the boat. The next day the diver came to fit our repaired propeller we'd taken home and brought back (hence the need for luggage). A couple more days in the marina were required to stock up and generally acclimatise to boat life again. Then we slipped our lines to head south. First stop Lakka, on the island of Paxos. A six hour voyage with virtually no wind, but clear blue sky, flat sea and baking hot sunshine. The engine and the autohelm did all the hard work whilst we enjoyed relaxing out at sea in such glorious conditions. Do I allow myself a cheeky beer whilst underway when it's so calm......yes I do - as long as the sails aren't up! Lakka is a tranquil bay surrounded by green hills and the most fantastic turquoise sea, plus a cute little village with several tavernas and a small supermarket for supplies. I guess that's why so many boats go there and there's the rub. It's busy. I mean really busy. Luckily, we found a good spot to anchor, but we watched as more and more boats piled in right up to nightfall. And then there was simply no room left and boats had to turn-around and head off somewhere else in the dark. Not ideal for anyone, least of all inexperienced charter crew. We stayed in Lakka for two nights and despite the number of boats crammed into the bay, it was a truly wonderful time......swimming, eating, wandering around the village and watching spectacular sun rises and sun sets. Those precious moments at dusk and dawn made the stay very intoxicating. Next, a four hour sail south east to the Greek mainland and a place called Two Rock Bay. We'd been told about this spot and my word it didn't disappoint. Even more spectacular than Lakka and, with only half a dozen other boats there, it was quiet too. No buildings at all, other than a shack on the cliff top housing a small bar. You dream of anchorages like this and it humbles you to realise how privileged you are to be there. I do have one beef with the place though. It's got three rocks and technically it should be called Three Rock Bay - or maybe I'm just being a bit OCD. Such was the peace and tranquility of the place, we could have easily stayed put for weeks, but after three days we managed to tear ourselves away and head further south to Preveza. You can moor up on the busy town quay in Preveza, but we chose to spend a couple of nights in the swanky new marina. Very pristine, almost posh......the toilets and showers wouldn't have been out of place in a 5 star hotel. And, in the evenings, it was the done thing to promenade along the bustling waterfront boulevard lined with a vast selection of tavernas, restaurants and bars. However, it's best to venture a few streets' back where the real Preveza is and meander through the old cobbled streets and alleyways. Here you find more traditional tavernas with slightly less touristy prices. We enjoyed a couple of terrific dinners with local wine a plenty. Onwards and upwards......next stop Lefkas Marina, just over an hour away. But first you have to wait for the swing road bridge to open, allowing you to proceed down the Lefkas Canal that joins the North Ionian to the South Ionian. The bridge opens on the hour, so timing your arrival is essential as there's little room in the shallow entrance to dance around other boats in the queue. If the wind is blowing, it can be very tricky. We had flat calm thankfully. The canal means you don't have to go all the way round the island of Lefkas to head south and takes about ten hours off the journey. Now here's an amazing thing. It was built by The Corinthians in 650 BC. That makes it over two and a half thousand years old. We get seven nights free in Lefkas Marina as part of our Gouvia contract because both marinas are owned by the same company. We stayed for three nights with a view to considering if we might move the boat here one day, given its proximity to the Southern Ionian. There are many more islands and stunning anchorages down south, but equally it's much busier. And in Lefkas Marina we could see why. There were literally hundred and hundreds of charter boats.....massive catamarans and all the mono-hulls were between forty and fifty feet. Actually, we were quite shocked at how big the marina was. We had a very special reunion here with our good friends Roger and Lynne, who were moored up in Nidri, but did an hour long bus ride to see us and have dinner at their favourite local taverna, just round the corner from the touristy bits. We first met these two in Portugal in 2012, then again in Gibraltar and more recently in Corfu in 2019. They've been sea gypsies for around 20 years and have sailed back and forth from the UK to all over the Mediterranean several times. As ever, we laughed ourselves silly throughout the evening.......they are such good company. So, would we consider moving to Lefkas Marina? The marina itself is OK despite its size. There's a hotel swimming pool on-site that costs €5 each for a day, which is essential given the heat. The town waterfront is lined with dozens of busy tavernas, but a short walk away is the lovely old town with shops, cafes, bars and more traditional tavernas tucked away in side streets and alleyways. Quite similar to Preveza in that way. We're not sure though......we'll think about it. Having now sampled the marina and explored Lefkas Town, we set off down the narrow canal again. After just fifteen minutes it opened up into the wonderland that is the Southern Ionian, or the inland sea as it's called. It's a beautiful sight......clear blue sea, mountains all around, many islands in the distance and many more boats heading south just like us. We'd arranged to meet up with Roger and Lynne again on the island of Meganisi, in Abelike Bay to be precise. After a couple hours of motoring in no wind whatsoever, we anchored next to them in what can only be described as a little piece of paradise. That evening we took the dingy ashore for dinner in one of only two tavernas in the bay. We chose the more rustic one and enjoyed another fun filled evening with fabulous home cooked food and a carafe or two of local wine. This taverna, with its slightly ramshackle layout, and trees growing in-between the tables, was quite simply the best. Greece how it was decades ago when we first came. For our next stop Roger and Lynne suggested we follow them to a small town on the mainland, about two hours away. WOW......Palairos was an absolute gem. After mooring up stern to on the concrete town key, we wandered round what was more like a village than a town. Authentic and typically Greek would be a good way to describe the place. Clearly there was some tourism catered for with bars, tavernas and a great beach club where you could lie on trendy couches with umbrellas on the sand for free if you had a drink. No hardship there then! The first night I cooked a meal for the four of us and the second night we dined out in a smart restaurant perched half way up a hill overlooking the sea. To round off the evening we had a nightcap in the bustling village square amongst the mainly Greek holidaymakers. We liked Palairos very much and we'll certainly come back again. Back again to Lefkas Marina for a few days and then up the canal into the Northern Ionian, where we followed our same route back the other way. The final stop was meant to be a new harbour at Sivota Mourtos on the mainland opposite Corfu, but when we got there is was so full of boats we decided to press on to Gouvia. It took nine hours on that last leg and when we got back to our berth at the Marina we were exhausted. We did venture out on other short sails during this time in Greece and we also spent time relaxing in Gouvia Marina, plus a day on the beach, but we flew out on 26th July just in time to avoid the really busy part of the season. It was already getting noticeably more crowded and the heat was getting quite draining. We'll be back again to enjoy the whole of September, with plans to explore more of the Corfu North coastline. Until then it's going to be about catching up with family and friends in Blighty, in sensible temperatures and undoubtably some (lots of) rain. A few miscellaneous pics from our six week trip... The doors opened, scented air wafted into the cabin and we felt pretty damn good to be back in Greece once again. Then, walking down the aircraft steps a few minutes later, on a warm Corfu night, our spirits soared in anticipation of some good times ahead. This ten day trip was all about us flinging off the winter blues and having a bit of a holiday in a couple of hotels, whilst making sure Comino was pampered and prepped ready for our sailing adventures over the summer. We're booked to return in a few weeks time to be on-board for about two and a half months, with a short stint back at home in-between. "Our man in Corfu" and his team did a terrific job on the hull - you could eat your dinner off it now. We rolled up our sleeves and handled the clean up job down below, put the sails on and generally tidied up. We're nearly there, but an all-over polish and wax will get done whilst we're back at home, plus a small list of minor maintenance jobs. When we return, we'll quickly stock up on victuals (that's a posh nautical term for food and drink) and then set sail. Here's a few pics to sum up our time in Corfu, a place that is officially now our second home.
When I read the consultants letter detailing the extent of my injuries, I noticed it said wearing the boot for four to six weeks was necessary. Therefore, I decided to meet him halfway and booked new flights at the five week mark. On 4th October, we flew back to Corfu - better late than never! Sailing was too risky, my foot was still rather fragile, so we resigned ourselves to a gentle three week holiday on Comino staying put in the marina. To be honest, all that really mattered was being there. And there we jolly well were! Here's a brief summary of the trip. First two nights in a nearby hotel allowed us to get on Comino and check everything was ship-shape before we actually moved onboard. She had been protected by the all-over canvas cover, but even so, two years worth of sand, dust and grime made the decks look rather grubby, Thank you Sahara Desert for sending so much sand our way. Nothing a hose pipe couldn't put right. Thankfully, down below it all looked immaculate - just how we left her all that time ago. Next, we needed to test if everything worked. Electrics, toilet, gas supply, water pump, heating, lights, nav systems, VHF, engine etc. etc. Everything fired up perfectly - a big relief. It meant our stay would be comfortable and no need to set about fixing things. The underwater hull looked interesting to say the least. I think a marine biologist would have had a field day exploring the sea life going on down there. Time to book a lift-out and find some people to clean things up and do the antifouling. Mmmmm....another consequence of Covid. The backlog of boats wanting to come out of the water, having been unable to do so last year, was huge. The 28th April 2022 was the earliest slot we could get. That set the time frame to return next year, which is pretty well when we would have booked anyway. We lined up a marina based company we know to do the work, so we're all set for next spring. And then the storms came. Ten days of spectacular electrical storms with non-stop tropical downpours, day and night. Floods everywhere, roads and bridges washed away, landslides and cars floating out to sea - the island was thrown into a state of emergency - nothing like it had been seen before. The weather did calm down a bit, but it rained most days in-between sunny spells. During one storm on 7th October, a 50 knot gust of wind snapped my port side mooring line. We veered off touching the boat on my starboard side. I shouted for help from my neighbour and between us we managed to get another line attached and pull ourselves back into position without any damage. I quickly checked my other mooring line and to my horror it was hanging on by just a few threads and would have also snapped at the next big gust. Here's the thing. Had I not broken my foot, we would have travelled home on 4th October as per the original booking. That means this incident would have happened after we'd left. In other words, with nobody on-board, Comino would have lost her stern mooring lines completely and drifted off into what could only have been a catastrophic disaster. And that's why I passionately believe in fate! The pics above show the two lines in question. This was not as a result of weakness in the ropes, but from chaffing caused by the rubber snubbers I had put on before we left in 2019. There's a lesson to be learned!!! The next set of pics below show some of the effects of the storms on our local beach. I imagine the courtesy flag on Comino will have completely disintegrated by the time we get back next year. No adventure on the boat, whether cruising or simply chilling in the marina, would be complete without a plate of king prawns at some point. On the one proper hot sunny day we had, off to the beach we went (as shown above). Our favourite seafood taverna just so happens to be there too. Natali's didn't disappoint - the prawns came with a sizeable portion of Calamari and their unbeatable homemade Taramasalata. A little smidgen of wine was consumed, purely for medicinal reasons, and I had the best siesta I've ever had! The walk to the beach takes us past the filming location for The Durrells TV series and it was clear that all the rain had helped create a lush garden backdrop to the house. I'd quite like to live there actually. On the subject of food (again), we did something for the first time in all the ten years since we've been abroad with Comino. We ordered a Pizza delivery to the boat from our local Italian restaurant. Twenty minutes later a chap with a crash helmet wandered down our pontoon with two large boxes. Epic. The next instalment on here will, I hope, be a bit more boaty and less culinary. It is a sailing blog after all. I'll post plenty of pics of the lift-out and tales of our sailing adventures around the Ionian. We did have a route plan for this year, but it went out of the window. No worries, I'll dust it down to use next year. Flights back to Corfu are booked.
Thoughts are now turning to a check list to establish what works and what doesn't, bearing in mind Comino has sat unattended in the marina for nearly two years. A list of essential maintenance jobs is also growing by the day. When we get there we're gonna be busy for sure! Boat bits and small spare parts are starting to arrive at home from various on-line chandlers - we only have hand luggage, so there is a limit to what we can carry. Yes we're excited, but there's also a lot of trepidation about what to expect. On the Covid front, things are currently getting worse not better and therefore it's hard to predict what travel restrictions may come into force in the coming weeks and months. All we can do is keep our fingers crossed ! Flights have been going into Corfu from Bristol for several weeks now. Many people have posted stories on various yottie blogs about what a wonderful time they're having; being welcomed by grateful locals for supporting the economy. The live web cam for the anchorage at Lakka, in Paxos, shows it's as full of boats as it was last year at the height of the season. Watching all those gorgeous pictures is agonising - we so want to be there.
But, the threat of quarantine on our return to the UK makes it a tricky one...should we stay or should we go? Are we indecisive - we're not sure? The thing is, after months of not seeing family, especially the newborn grandson, going back into isolation again, after being away from everyone for yet another month, would be really sad. During this "shall we or shan't we" period, I've been able to organise a diver to fit new sacrificial anodes to Comino's propeller and saildrive. This takes away any fear that if we decided to leave her in the water unattended till next year, there shouldn't be any any corrosive damage to the underwater metal bits. The diver kindly sent pics of his work. Definitely need to get her whole bottom cleaned when we do set sail again. After the last trip, which went slightly pear-shaped due to my dodgy knee issue, my final words in the blog post were... "Let's hope nothing interferes with our plans next time".
When I said that, I couldn't have foreseen the awful things that were about to unfold. I'm talking about Covid-19 of course. Our May flights back to Corfu have now been cancelled by easyJet, which makes us feel a little sad, but this is nothing compared to the misery and suffering so many people have endured around the world in recent months. And, it would be ridiculously risky to travel on an aircraft for the foreseeable future. So far, Corfu has hardly been touched by this dreadful virus and therefore the last thing they want are plane loads of tourists arriving from all over Europe. Having read comments on various forums, posted by locals, it's clear that they value their health far more than the loss of tourist revenue, even though it'll cripple them financially. It must be awful for them to face such a catastrophic situation; tourism is the main source of income for the majority of the population. We now long for a time when can safely return to Corfu and maybe do our little bit for the local economy - that day will surely come? There's nothing more to say really. Not seeing our beloved boat this year isn't really an issue in the overall scale of things. We wish for better times ahead and nobody has ever written words of hope so poignant to the current situation better than Dame Vera Lynn. We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day Keep smiling through Just like you always do 'Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds away We had a whole host of trips and adventures planned for our final month aboard Comino. Alas, things didn't go quite as planned.
We arrived back to the boat on 9th September, with a return date of 7th October, but before we even touched down at Corfu airport our sailing adventures were already in jeopardy. Let me explain. Two days before we set off my left knee started to give me jip. On the day we flew it was very sore and quite swollen. After three hours cooped up on the aircraft, I could barely walk down the steps. It was now so bad I couldn't get into the taxi - my leg was completely locked straight and my knee was the size of a football! In the end I had to lie across the backseat. I'm sure the driver thought I was off my face, not realising that getting inebriated at EasyJet alcohol prices would have cost the equivalent of the gross GDP of Guatemala!!! To cut a long story short this is how things remained for two weeks. With a lot of huffing and puffing, and pathetic yelps of agony, I managed to haul myself up the companionway steps to get into the cockpit and put my leg up. I'll not bore you with the possible causes of my affliction, as suggested by our good friend Mr Google, but suffice to say rest and putting my leg up was pretty universally prescribed, whatever the problem might be. Nicki was great and pampered me rotten. Roger and Lynne came round every day to make me laugh and force me to sip wine (not much persuading required there I have to say). I read five books and, because the sun was shining, I was actually in quite good spirits. After all, many a holidaymaker just vegetates on a lounger for two weeks soaking up the sun. So, I consoled myself that this was just a normal holiday in Greece with two weeks of doing not very much apart from eating, drinking and getting a tan. It's worth mentioning that I rather stubbornly refused to go to hospital, or the doctors, despite much nagging (in nicest possible way) by Nicki. I also declined the invitation to be pushed around in a wheelchair by Roger, who had kindly organised one via the Marina Office. I secretly feared that a late night return to the boat from a bar, along the narrow pontoon, had me, Roger and the wheelchair ending up in the water written all over it! Roger and Lynn eventually set sail and I'm eternally grateful to them both for their support. The following two weeks did see slow progress towards relative normality and I was able to hobble to the pool most days to do some light exercise in the water. I could also limp to some of the nearest restaurants in and around the marina. So, all in all, we still had a great time, albeit tinged with a little frustration that we couldn't risk sailing for fear of triggering a relapse. Sadly, I didn't take any pics this time for obvious reasons. But I'll make up for it when we resume our sailing adventures next year. Now we're home again, I'm waiting to see a specialist to suss out what caused the condition and whether further treatment is required. My knee is currently a long way from normal, but the pain is manageable, proving I don't run a marathon. Comino has her all-over winter cover on and will bob around on her berth in Gouvia Marina for the next six months. When flights to Corfu resume again in April, I'll buzz over for a week or so to oversee a lift-out, allowing me to do the antifoul painting whilst she's up on the hard. If everything goes according to plan we'll be good to go again at the end of May 2020. Let's hope nothing interferes with our plans next time! A Bit AWOL... This blog entry covers the two month period between 31st May and 31st July, which was spent living aboard Comino in and around Corfu. I somehow managed to mislay my writing mojo during this time for reasons I can't quite explain, although sheer bone idleness probably has something to do with it. The problem was the sun shone brightly every day (nice problem to have I hasten to add) and we became more and more chilled. Greece has this effect on us, hence we love it so much! The relaxed routine of marina life took on a leisurely pace all of it's own and I'm ashamed to say it was quite an effort to untie our lines and slip out to sea, even just for a day sail. I'm awarding myself 3/10 for being AWOL blog wise as I now, rather belatedly, start to reminisce about the past couple of months. For the record, I'm writing this back in the UK. It's blowing a gale and raining cats and dogs outside - a typical English August then!!! No worries, we'll be back on the boat in a few weeks, but in the meantime here's a brief overview of how things went whist we were away. Back Into Boat Life... When we arrived there was much work to be done before we could properly settle back into boat life, but first things first we switched on the fridge and fetched some supplies. Another reason Gouvia Marina works so well for us as a base is the huge AB Supermarket just a short walk away. In a jiffy, some edibles and a bottle (OK... two then) of white wine were chilling nicely, ready for a sundowner to welcome us home. It was already feeling like we hadn't been away!! After a couple of days of contemplation we got stuck in.
After a week, we were ready for our first sail and headed off to test if the boat functioned as it should out at sea. Having A Nipper Aboard... It wasn't long before we had some visitors. Our daughter, husband and wee grandson had booked themselves into a nearby apartment with breathtaking views across a lush wooded peninsular all the way to Albania. The time had come to get the nipper aboard for his first experience as a sailor, but not before some safety issues had been addressed. I equipped him with a lifejacket and made him sit and study the basic principles of boating with a large whisky and a cigar......only kidding..... it was a chocolate finger and a mug of milk. And so, over the next ten days, we did a bit of sailing up the North coast of Corfu, anchoring at Kalami and swimming off the boat. The nipper ventured into the sea a few times, but it must be said he wasn't overly keen to slip into 20 feet of water off the back of Comino. He loved the beaches, though his favourite stretch of water was the marina pool. When he wasn't swimming, eating or sleeping he liked to have a little pose for the camera in his trendy sun suit and rather stylish shades! What a wonderful family holiday it was and hopefully we'll do it again before too long. The Russians Are Coming... Whilst we were out and about on Comino we kept seeing a large Superyacht anchored near to the marina entrance. It was called Universe and a quick check on Google revealed that it had been delivered to a wealthy Russian the previous year. Early one evening back in the marina, as we sat in the cockpit with a sundowner, a rather posh tender from Universe pulled in right beside us, crewed by very well dressed chaps in uniforms bearing the name of the master vessel. As they docked, two heavy looking bruisers stepped off and marched up the pontoon to the swanky restaurant at the end. A few minutes later they returned, presumably having cased the joint and the tender quickly departed. About an hour later the tender was back. Two bodyguards jumped onto the pontoon and stood to attention. Coming from the lounge cabin an extremely well dressed couple hastily stepped off the tender, followed by two more bodyguards taking up the rear guard. The group then moved forward at a pace with the bodyguards forming a kind of close protective circle around the big wigs. A few hours later the same formation came back from the restaurant and in an instant the tender was off again. What was so striking about the whole thing was that during the coming and going nobody spoke, nobody even looked at each other, they all just stared straight ahead performing what looked like a well rehearsed routine designed to enter and exit as fast as possible. It was all a bit spooky actually. Here are pics of the mothership and the tender. An Unexpected Re-Union We first met Roger and Lynne in Albufiera (Portugal) in 2012 and then again in Gibraltar in 2013. We had some really good laughs together, always over a few beers and generally trying to put the world to right. Roger, an ex pilot, was particularly entertaining and extremely irreverent. But, because everyone in the sailing world is on their own particular journey, we said cheerio in Gib and we haven't bumped into them again since. Then, out of the blue, we had an e-mail from them at the beginning of July to say they were in the South Ionian, around Kefalonia to be precise. This was about 100 miles south of us. I replied asking if they were planning to head up to our neck of the woods anytime soon and to our delight they said they were. Arrangements were made and we agree to meet up in Lakka Bay on the island of Paxos. On 25th July we set off from Gouvia for the six hour sail down to Paxos in gloriously sunny and flat calm conditions. Actually, with so little wind, we motored all the way. Once inside the bay it wasn't long before we saw two familiar faces waving at us amongst the dozens of other boats around. We anchored close by and in a jiffy we were onboard Roger and Lynne's boat chatting and laughing as if we'd never been apart for six years. After a very long lunch, lasting till gone 5pm, it was back to Comino for a siesta before setting off again in our dingy to pick Roger and Lynne up for dinner ashore in the quaint village of Lakka. A late night in a taverna was inevitable and I believe a few more vinos may have been consumed. Was there a slow start the next morning maybe? I should say so! It was then our turn to host lunch and once again the afternoon was lost to even more laughter and tales of our respective journeys to where we were now. We said our goodbye's early evening because we intended to set sail at around 9am in the morning and they declared that there was absolutely no chance they would be up by then. Our trip back was calm and sunny and we both reflected that the past couple of days had been absolutely brilliant. Here's a few pics of gorgeous Lakka. Somehow, with all the fun and frolics, we hadn't taken a single picture of the four of us together. There will be a next time though. Bottom right is a snap of what it looks like when you're far out at sea in flat calm weather - quite eerie don't you think? The next time with Roger and Lynne actually occurred only a few days later. Like us, they were going home to the UK for August and they arrived in Gouvia Marina to park up their boat for a month. So what do you think happened?......Yes, we had our final evening at a local taverna doing what we do best - laughing over a few vinos. Not too many though, we had to fly the next day and did we take that group photo?.....No, we forgot again. Summary... Two months on Comino was amazing. We're not sure we could do nine months any more, or even six months for that matter. Going home for August is definitely the right thing to do. It was very hot during June and July, so a break from the heat is very necessary. We really need to do some more adventurous passages down to the South Ionian - to Kefalonia, Ithica, Lefkas and all the other little islands in that area. We want see more of mainland Greece too. We'd like to see Roger and Lynne again in September, but they are more nomadic than us. Plus, they do more hardcore sailing - crossing Biscay, sailing from Brighton to Greece, nipping off to Turkey, heading up to Croatia - stuff like that. It's interesting to see how nature completely takes over your garden in just two months. Thank goodness we had someone to water the pots and containers - how wonderful to come back to so many flowers amongst the jungle of overgrow grass and shrubbery. Little things like a new tap, complete with pull out shower attachment, made us feel good. Mind you, a little platter of this n' that made us feel even better. It's fair to say there are a lot of boats in the Ionian and around Corfu the anchorages are often quite busy. However, there's always a space somewhere, whether you have to snuggle up to a large neighbour or a small one! It was Wednesday 24th April at 09.20 when the licensed bandit (taxi driver) arrived to take us to the train station. After what seemed like an awfully long time at home in the Cotswolds we were FINALLY going back to the boat in Corfu. First, we had to endure a journey all the way to Gatwick as our local airport, Bristol, didn't start their new season schedule for a couple of weeks, but the excitement of heading off for a nine day stay on Comino made it more than bearable. At 23.30 local time (two hours ahead of the UK) we were sat in the cockpit (the boat not the plane) with huge smiles on our faces that wouldn't have looked out of place on a Cheshire Cat! We'd made it. I have to say, even after seven years of doing this, it's still a very nervous moment when you first step onboard after six months away. I did the usual quick glance all around to make sure everything was still in one piece and peeked into the bilges to check they were bone dry - thankfully all was ship shape and Bristol fashion.....hence the big grin. The inside of the boat was spotlessly clean and dry, exactly as we'd left it last October, so it was easy to just flop into our cabin and crash out after the tiring journey. The next morning, in glorious sunshine I have to say, the effects of the boat sitting in Greece over winter were more apparent. It seemed that the Sahara Desert in Africa had decided to relocate itself to the Southern Mediterranean, perhaps for a little break away from the searing heat. Anyway, it had dumped red sand on all the boats in the marina, which made everything look filthy - although nothing a hose pipe couldn't deal with very easily. Several boats on our pontoon had already been spring cleaned by their owners, who had now returned for the new sailing season and it was great to say hello and catch up again. Over the coming days more people would arrive making the whole place feel like it was coming back to life from its wintery slumber. As I mentioned, we were here for just nine days and the purpose of the trip was to slowly start getting the boat ready for our bigger venture throughout the whole summer, when we'll be returning in a few weeks time. Actually, the real reason for this short holiday was to sample the unique delights of the Corfu Greek Orthodox Easter, which took place one week after ours. I'd done a lot of reading up on what is a long list of unfolding events that mark the death of Christ and his miraculous arising. Thousands of people from all over Greece traveled to join what seemed like the entire population of Corfu for this week long festival - combining highly religious, rather sombre, elements with some amazing celebratory events too, still laced with relevant religious symbolism, but nevertheless spectacular to watch. Not being religious types ourselves, we only did the "big ticket" Saturday side of things, which took place in beautiful Corfu Town. Long ago I'd booked a hotel in the centre of town so that we could enjoy the whole day, with a comfortable siesta in the afternoon, then onwards and upwards again with the evening festivities, culminating in a jaw dropping fireworks display at midnight. When it finished we were able to enjoy a couple of late night vinos then off to bed without needing to find a taxi in the wee small hours. I could bang on about all the different spectacles and goings on, but I think it's easier to show a few pictures that give a flavour of our day, including the rather quieter Sunday morning stroll. Google can do the proper explaining about the meaning of everything if you're that interested. And so, that was our Easter weekend in Corfu Town - it was a bit of a do I must say. There were a few delicious Greek meals thrown in for good measure and then it was back to Comino for another spell in the marina, generally relaxing and sampling a few more tavernas in the locality. We didn't sail because the engine needs servicing and the sails aren't back on either. The weather turned quite cold one evening and we even turned the heating on in the boat, which hadn't been used for several years, but overall it was shorts, T-shirts and the obligatory flip flops. We're back in the UK now for a couple of weeks and then it's boat life once again for the summer up until autumn. Can't wait!!!
One of the last things I did before leaving Gouvia Marina was to get Comino measured up for an all-over winter cover from a local company that specialises in such handywork. This week it was fitted and the owner sent me a few pics. Very timely as the rainy season has finally arrived and we can rest assured that our precious boat is now snug as a bug in a rug. Return flights are already booked for April 2019 - see you soon(ish).
That was a long winded way of saying, whilst we are in awe of the full-time liveaboards who cut the umbilical cord with conventional land based living, it just wouldn't work for us. We've toyed with the idea in the past, but our plan for the next few years is all about shuttling between here and there. And so, via train, airport shuttle bus, plane and taxi we arrived at Gouvia Marina just before midnight and it was comfortably hot and still bustling with life. Having first hopped onboard to check Comino was OK we quickly changed out of jeans into shorts and headed for a bar overlooking our pontoon. A toast to celebrate our return was in order - a most welcome glass of local vino. That's what I mean about the contrasting lifestyles. We don't tend to stay up that late back home. Thinking about it, perhaps we should! For the next few weeks we did a bit of sailing, a bit of beach life, a bit of idling round the pool and a bit more exploring the area around us on foot. We also tried a few different eateries, including George's BBQ meat rotisserie (protein extravaganza) in the rather run down part of old, rustic Gouvia Village. Actually, that's not really fair. It's the part that is utterly original and apart from the odd bar or two it's untouched by tourism, so it caters mainly for the locals I think. Basically, George has a whole wall of rotating rods, cogs and gears turning big bits of garlic and herb infused lamb, chicken, pork and beef over a huge bed of searing hot charcoal for hours on end. The end result is nothing short of amazing. We get a mix of succulent tender meats, with crispy outer bits, served up with chips, tzatziki and salad. I rush back to the boat and we sit on deck in the late evening warmth consuming this awesome feast of feasts, washed down with a cold white vino, listening to our finest Ibiza chill-out tunes gently playing in the background. This my friends is what we mean by the term intoxicating. This is a little slice of heaven on earth. That last paragraph deservers a complete and unreserved apology to all vegetarians. The sailing part of this latest trip to Corfu was, as ever, a reminder of why we like to potter around on the boat. Being out at sea is so utterly awesome. Here's a few pics to illustrate an average day around and about the coastline of Corfu. September drifted into October and with that came a few changes in the weather. The temperature dropped to the mid 20's, but every now and then a violent storm loomed over us with a menacing forecast of big time thunder, lightening and rain. A few times we had some truly biblical weather. It was always short lived but my word it was pretty violent when it came. Luckily, the meteorological web sites we use were reasonably accurate and it was easy to know what was about to happen and when - suffice to say we didn't go sailing during these weather bombs. Sadly, on one such day, just sixty miles south of us a hurricane hit a fleet of flotilla boats and four were sunk. Thankfully, nobody was injured (or worse). The two pics below show what the daytime sky looked liked during these stormy periods and how spectacular the sunsets were in the aftermath. As some kill-joy once said "all good things must come to an end". On 17th October we flew home. The usual work to winterise the boat was done over the proceeding few days - it's a list of jobs as long as your arm. It's funny how we all do exactly the same thing on the day we leave - we all stop and take one last lingering look at our boat from the pontoon before we quietly walk away, in our case for six months. We all reluctantly abandon our second home with a heavy heart. We can't quite come to terms with the fact that our not insignificant asset is being left unattended in a foreign land thousands of miles away. How weird is that?
When we took off from Corfu airport the plane banked steep left and flew right over Gouvia Marina giving us one last, if not unexpected, look at Comino nestling down there in her winter home. Till the next time. Just to finally round off the subject of the Durrells, we stayed for a couple of days at Kalami, anchored in the bay just off the beach with a view to our left of a place called The White House. This was one of the three actual Durrell residences on Corfu and is now a posh restaurant and guest house, complete with gift shop selling all manner of Durrell related trinkets, and, of course, all the different family members' books. Whilst we were asleep at night in Kalami, every now and then we'd be woken by a significant swell causing us to roll around in our cabin for a minute or two until the normal calm and tranquility was restored. At about 6 am I poked my head out of the cockpit to marvel at the serene view around me and saw this bloody great big ship passing quite close by. Clearly the wake from these monsters heading for Corfu Town was the cause of our nocturnal disturbances. On our latest trip into Corfu Town (by taxi I hasten to add) I took the trouble to snap a few images of the wonderful Venetian and French architecture in the old town area. It's a vibrant, bustling, gem of a place with wide boulevards, very upmarket clothes shops and behind the grand buildings you get lost in a network of little narrow cobbled streets selling a mish mash of interesting arts and crafts, cheap clothes and really quite good tourist tat. We loved it - not to mention the traditional tavernas and watering holes. The pics give the overall general impression. Below shows a typical area behind the scenes in Corfu Town; a pretty little residential enclave. I guess we'd call it a des res mews. This is the last blog update from Corfu for a short while. Later this evening we fly home for a brief interlude from our Greek adventure but, we'll be back very soon. I gather the garden at home resembles the Gobi Desert after the lengthy heatwave and no doubt the first thing I'll need to do is charge the batteries on the cars, given we'll need to get vital supplies such as wine (or did I mean milk). As per previous stints away from home I'll have to shovel up a mountain of junk mail, amongst which there will inevitably be a few unwelcome bills to pay. Talk about coming down to reality with a bump - I think I'll go to the pool right now for a last dip and pretend it's all business as usual here in sunny Greece!
So, here we are some seven weeks into our Greek Odyssey and I think I can safely speak for both of us when I say we are really loving life in Corfu. After an initial period of being exceptionally lazy, in full holiday mode, we've now ventured out to sea and explored some of the beautiful small bays up in the north east of the island. However, it was not all plain sailing as the beaches tend to slope into deeper water quite quickly here and we found that our 30 metres of anchor chain wasn't quite enough - for the benefit of non-sailers you need to put out three times the length of chain to the depth, as a bare minimum. Personally, I like to use a ratio of four times, so trying to sit in ten metres of water meant we were caught short so to speak. A trip to the local chandlers and several hundred euros later we now have 50 metres, plus another 20 metres of rope. On one occasion, before we got the extra chain, I anchored in 5 metres, reversed back and ended up with the stern of the boat practically parked on a sun lounger on the beach, much to the annoyance of a greek gentleman who started shouting at us. I'm guessing it was a tirade of abuse and expletives as opposed to "hello and welcome you gallant English sailor" Anyway, I up-anchored and moved on with a thumbs up and thankfully he smiled back. It was a close call but I think I've restored friendly Anglo Greek relations once again! In the past, I've often waxed lyrical about how wonderful giant Mediterranean prawns are. Indeed, I'm still very partial to a plateful now and then, but my current preference is Calamari - grilled, fried or baked. We've now frequented quite a number of Tavernas (slight understatement) and naturally I compare one dish of Calamari to another, which obviously has a strong bearing on repeat visits. At the moment the rather unassuming little shack on our local beach is winning hands down. The picture above of their delicious offering speaks for itself - "squid heaven with a twist of lemon" I call it! The middle picture tells a different story. Our great friends from Malta, Jane and Nathalie, have been staying in a villa nearby for the past week and when they first arrived, very early in the morning, I considered doing a bacon and egg fry up on the boat to welcome them to Greece. Then I remembered, this was Jane and Nathalie on holiday we're talking about and the party would have started at Malta airport before they even took off. Suffice to say I came to my senses and bought the ingredients for a stiff Bloody Mary breakfast instead and I must say it was very well received by the gals. I had one (two actually) myself and I certainly understand the attraction! The picture on the right is very special. Jane, bless her, brought over as her hand luggage an electric gridler, knowing that our last one packed in. It allows us to have BBQ style food on the boat, which we absolutely love. The recent tragic deaths in Greece caused by wildfires emphasises why there is a blanket ban on charcoal or gas BBQ's on beaches, or anywhere else on land for that matter - and quite rightly so - but now we can do the next best thing - thank you Jane. Taking advantage of Jane and Nathalie's hire car, we all ventured off to the rugged west side of Corfu to a scenic little bay called Paleokastritsa. The journey took us through beautiful wooded mountains and when we got there the view across the coastline was nothing short of spectacular. From here we took a boat ride to a secluded beach, only accessible from the sea, called Paradise Beach. OMG - talk about clear blue water - you can see why it's named what it is! The pics above were taken as we arrived for a day of swimming and chilling - not to mention a sumptuous picnic, complete with chilled white wine from the well stocked cool-box. Just a few snaps of our relaxing day - the one in the middle shows the interesting rock formations created by layers of sediment laid down millions of years ago. If only that person hadn't walked past as I was lining up the shot you would have a clearer view! Paleokastritsa bay as seen from the top of the steps leading down to the beach. Easy going down - somewhat exhausting coming back up in the heat, but thankfully the cool box was somewhat lighter by now. This pic was taken on the evening of 26th July, as we were sharing a farewell fish supper with Jane and Nathalie at a gorgeous waterside Taverna. This cloud formation bubbled up in-front of us as it was getting dark and I promise you I've not tinkered with the shot in any way. This is exactly how it was - pretty dramatic don't you think!
It's now just the two of us again and we shall set sail once more over the coming week to do some more exploring, primarily along the east coast. I haven't mentioned yet that we had a day and evening in Corfu Town, which was really interesting given its Venetian history and architecture. We're going back tomorrow and I'll take lots of pics ready for a blog all about the hustle and bustle of this busy, but beautiful place. This might sound a little strange but we haven't been sailing yet after three weeks in Gouvia. The fact is we both sat down and agreed that to begin with we really needed a holiday in the traditional sense - lounging around the pool, reading, walking, exploring the local area and visiting lots of tavernas. And so, that's what we've been doing - recharging our batteries and generally unwinding. There's weeks, months and years to sail again - indeed we will venture out next week for sure. But these past few weeks have been heaven and the pair of us are now well and truly chilled, and rather tanned. Part of the attraction here is the superb pool that is about 300 yards from the boat. The restaurant serves really good food (and the local wine is very drinkable) which means we get dragged here like a magnet most days. Plus, being hot, hot, hot everyday makes regular dips quite compelling. Gouvia Marina is surrounded by rolling hills covered in beautiful greenery and lush vegetation. Just around the corner is the Durrells house, as used in the popular TV series. It's gardens look amazing, although this is as close as you can get. Apparently they resume filming here later in the year for the fourth series. From our pontoon we also look up to the mountains of Albania just a few miles away - you can venture over there these days but most people here feel it's not very advisable. Perhaps the most unexpected thing about the marina is the cricket pitch and the croquet lawns. Matches of both pastimes take place every other day and I must say it always looks a little bit odd to see what would normally be quintessentially English summer activities occurring in the searing heat of Greece! Water must be plentiful here as they use rather a lot of it to keep the grass green. I mentioned that we've been doing the rounds of the local Tavernas and one in particular (Harry's Taverna established in 1929) has become our favourite. At weekends really talented musicians play traditional music to a packed audience - booking a table is essential. But it's not all eating out don't you know. I've been cooking some rather delicious meals - even if I say so myself. And to add a little local flavour I have acquired some dried Oregano from a farm shop that smells (and tastes) utterly divine. The Oregano not the shop! I've also started a small garden on the decks of Comino to grow our own fresh herbs. As you can see our Basil plant is looking very healthy indeed - and he tastes pretty damn good too. To make it even more difficult to slip our lines and venture back out to sea we've just discovered another even more luscious pool just a few minutes walk from the marina. Set in beautiful gardens, manicured to perfection, this quiet little oasis is the epitome of calmness. We were welcomed with open arms by the owners, who's only stipulation is that you use their bar and little restaurant - absolutely no hardship there then!!!
You can imagine our surprise when we looked across to the pontoon opposite and saw the very same boat we sailed in during our flotilla holiday in 2003. She's obviously been sold on by Sailing Holidays, but Katernia is still going strong and must at least 30 years old. How funny is that!
Finally...we've made it to Greece. It's only taken six years but hey, there was no hurry! All that matters is that we're now sitting in Gouvia Marina in Corfu feeling slightly elated that a dream we dared to dream two decades ago has actually become a reality. We were last here on a flotilla holiday in 2003 with our young kids and we were so besotted with the whole "sailing in Greece" experience that we wondered if it might be possible one day we could come back in a boat of our own. In 2007 we got the boat and in 2011 it was delivered to Portugal, where we spent a year buzzing back and forth for holidays and short breaks sailing around the Algarve. On 1st July 2012 we set sail from Lagos, having given up work for good, and the rest of our fantastic journey is documented in this blog - see the Our Route page for a quick summary. Our plan this year was to depart Malta and slowly hop our way up the east coast of Sicily, then day sail from one port to another along the southern coast of Italy, eventually crossing the 60 miles or so from the heel of Italy to Corfu. If we really liked somewhere along the way we might stay for a few days, even a week. However, the small matter of our Grandchild's first birthday, and a big party to celebrate, meant that we would need to be back in the UK in August. Therefore, we decided it was better to make a quick dash from Malta to Corfu. Because the route involves two 26 hour stints, including overnight sailing, we felt it was better for me to make the journey with my great Maltese friend Alfred and Nicki would fly in once we arrived. And so, on 10th June at 05:00, Alfred and I departed Malta heading for Syracuse in Sicily, some 14 hours away. The sail was uneventful and we had a fantastic meal in his favourite restaurant tucked away in the backstreets of the old town. What a truly magnificent place Syracuse is - absolutely beautiful. Without doubt Nicki and I will visit for a short break at some point. On 11th June we set off on the 26 hour journey to Crotone and again it was a really pleasant sail, including the overnight part ghosting along the coast of southern Italy in pitch black. The highlights were the masses of dolphins that joined us on numerous occasions. They rode our bow wave leaping and pirouetting in what looked like a joyous game to them.
After a relaxing evening in Crotone, enjoying a few vinos and a rather splendid fish supper, we got some much needed sleep before departing at first light for the next 26 hour voyage to our final destination. It was calm and peaceful as we headed out into the blue yonder - but not for long. An hour later we were hit by a wind storm that kicked up the sea into a angry swirl; large waves battering us on our port beam. Every now and then a breaking wave would pour over the boat as we sailed at 7 knots with just a quarter of the genoa sail out to give us some stability and forward drive. Alfred and I hunkered down under the sprayhood holding on tight as we were tossed around like a cork. We endured six hours of this beating before the force 6/7 winds calmed down to a more manageable force 4. The sea slowly became lumpy rather than rough and we started to relax knowing that the worst was over. My overriding thought was...thank goodness Nicki didn't experience this...she'd never set foot on a boat again! As for Comino, what can I say. She felt rock solid throughout and despite being thrown onto her side on occasions, she came back up with remarkable speed and weathered the storm impeccably. She is a strong and capable boat for sure. The day passed and night fell as we closed in on Greece. We had some tricky navigation weaving our way through the small rocky islands of Othoni and Mathraki in the darkness just off the north west tip of Corfu. Then we sailed right across the north coast of Corfu careful to avoid numerous marker buoys and the odd fish farm. At first light we rounded the north east tip of Corfu and headed down the east cost to Gouvia Marina. I called the marina on VHF Ch 69 and after passing through the two sets of port and starboard markers at the shallow entrance we were met by a young woman marinero in a rib who directed us to our berth on J pontoon. At 07:30 we were tied up and shaking hands - we'd made it. Thanks Alfred for being a brilliant sailing companion.
For a couple of days we tidied up the boat and did some essential maintenance before Alfred flew back to Malta on 16th June, leaving me to explore the area before Nicki arrived on 18th June. And here we are, 5 days into our adventure together in Greece. We haven't sailed yet as the weather has been a little stormy, but my word are we loving life over here. We've sampled the local Calamari and Gyros and tonight we're booked into a village Taverna for a meal with Greek music and dancing. The marina has a magnificent pool, which we've frequented every day, plus nearby restaurants, bars and a few shops. Soon we'll venture out with Comino and start exploring the many bays and anchorages around Corfu, Paxos, Anti-Paxos and the Greek mainland just a couple of hours away. It's hard to believe we're finally here - a well used cliche I know, but it does feel like we're living the dream. |
A FEW PICS OF COMINO Click a photo to enlarge and use side arrows to scroll through. COMINO IS CURRENTLY HEREDID SOMEONE SAY SEAFOODOn our journey from Portugal to Greece we enjoyed amazing seafood almost everywhere we stopped. Finding the local fish market was always a priority because seafood was so plentiful and so reasonably priced. And, the displays were a feast for your eyes.
Locating a market sometimes meant pounding the pavements in searing heat, but if you kept your eyes peeled, you often came across a little clue. The pic below was a rather less than subtle advert for a fish market - it was eight feet tall.
Freshly cooked onboard, a plateful of giant prawns, baked in wine and garlic, washed down with a few glasses of local vino, was like heaven. Watching the sunset on the boat eating a meal like that was the epitome of "living the dream".
Now we're in Greece we've another favourite to savour. I'm talking about fried Calamari. It's usually good, but every now and then it's off-the-scale fantastic. At Natalie's Taverna on Kontokali Beach in Corfu, it was nothing short of epic.
We're based in Lefkas now and It's been a bit of a mission to find somewhere just as good. And we have. Rakias is a mere ten minute walk from the marina and this little fish market, with its very own taverna attached, is quite sensational.
Oh...and it's also worth mentioning that, on occasions, a bit of barbequed Octopus is on the menu at some of the tavernas we frequent. Can I resist....no. SUNSETS AND DRAMATIC SKIESNo filters, or any other monkey business, have been used to enhance these images.
OUR ADVENTURES FROM THE BEGINNING CATEGORIES
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