Here they are, arriving on the fast catamaran from Athens. After a short shake-down sail to remind them which ropes to pull on, we set off just before first light to Serifos, our first island stop in the windy Aegean 70 miles away. The wind was quite light, but a big leftover swell made those that hadn't quite got their sealegs feel queasy, and Brian to his dismay was actually sick. His pride was injured more than anything!
We anchored in Serifos harbour just after nightfall. The next day revealed a cluster of white Cycladic houses perched on top of the hill, shrouded in early morning mist.
Brian and Marion energetically walked all the way to the top – we caught the bus halfway up.
At the top, we saw many of the cliché’d ingredients of these islands – winding alleyways; blue-domed churches; donkeys;
and an ancient windfarm.......
More local colour was provided by a splendidly moustachio’d knife salesman who was proud to pose for the camera.
A fresh southerly breeze gave us a brilliant beam reach for 30 miles across to Paros the next day. Passing the jagged Portes rocks at the entrance to Paroikia bay on Paros, we were shocked to realise that we were passing the scene of Greece’s worst ferry disaster exactly ten years to the day after it happened.
On 26th September 2000 the ferry Samina Express struck these rocks in a gale and sank, and over 80 people drowned. It was nothing short of miraculous that 400 of the 500 on board were rescued.
Paroikia, the capital of Poros has a beautiful church which is reputed to be the finest in the Cyclades. You don’t see many baptismal fonts shaped like this one which would give you a good underwater ducking!
With continuing southerlies, we spend a couple of nights in the delightful surroundings of Ormos Naoussa, a bay on the north side of Paros. Then a short hop across to Naxos town marina.
Because we hadn’t managed to get Marion and Brian to Santorini in the boat because of the wind direction, they caught the ferry for a daytrip there.
We know Naxos well, having spent some time staying at David Chater’s house here. It’s the largest and most fertile of the Cyclades islands. We hadn’t unexpected to be back, but we enjoyed exploring the island again – this time by car with the Edwards.
It was a whistle-stop tour that took in a byzantine chapel, the temple to Apollo, good views and a half-carved marble kouros still lying in its quarry bed.
The highlight was lunch in a shady taverna hidden away in Koronas in the hills – no menu, we ate what they’d cooked that day – a plate of tender pork in tomato sauce.
Brian gets our lunchtime drinks from the spring nearby.
The Edwards left us yesterday to catch the ferry back to Athens. They are perfect boat guests and we much enjoyed having them to stay. It gave us an excuse for some good meals ashore and a reason to do some of the touristy things we normally shun – like an entertaining bouzouki concert in the kastro at Naxos.
We are now a tantalising 120 miles from our winter quarters in Crete but the meltemi has decided to delay the home stretch. The meltemi is the prevailing northerly wind in the Aegean that blows up to gale force in the summer, and it should have eased a little by now. No chance. Strong winds are forecast for the next week so it looks like we’ll be here for a while. Thinking the kedge won’t be up to keeping us off the pier in a strong wind from astern, Leighton dives down to secure two stern lines to a substantial mooring chain on the seabed. We watch the last calm sunset over the harbour before the wind arrives - reasonably confident that the lines will allow us to sleep easy.
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