Fast & Furious to Finike

Finike, journey's end for this season - 17th October

We made the most of a run of five days of fine weather anchored in Gokkaya Limani just beyond Kekova. It's a beautiful spot, and home to a several loggerhead turtles that would surface from time to time for us to watch.  Leighton is distinctly wary of turtles from his time as a diver in a marine park when he was a student. As the seawater had a layer of icy cold spring water on the top, it was no great hardship to leave the swimming to the turtles.

Idyllic Gokkaya Limani

 













We were anchored close to Petronella, a 39' Joshua steel ketch, owned by John and Jill from Cumbria, whom we'd first met in Ucagiz. We spent every evening with them over a drink or two swapping sailing stories and using up our remaining locker stores. We enjoyed being with them and found we had a lot in common, so we were sorry to discover they're overwintering in Kas.

We met these goats along a stretch of the Lycian Way from Gokkaya Limani

We decided to spend our last night before tying up for the winter in Karaloz. It's a tiny fiord-like inlet on the east side of Kekova island.  When we arrived there was only one other boat there, but by the end of the day four charter boats squeezed themselves in as well.  One boatload of Swedes, three boatloads of Germans.  One with small children onboard; another with a crewmember who fancied himself on the guitar.  Peace shattered. 

Morning calm in Karaloz

According to the pilot, the passage between Kekova and Finike is often windless.  Determined not to motor our last day if we could help it, we'd waited until there was wind forecast.  We got it. Plenty of wind and a steep swell gave us a fast and rolling downwind ride to Finike.  Leighton hand steered all the way as it was too tough for Cathy.

Surfing downwind to Finike

Approaching the marina at Finike

"You're just in time for the BBQ", announced our neighbours as the marinero was expertly tying Makarma to the pontoon in the marina. And so our feet had hardly touched the ground before we were getting to know the liveaboard community here over a few beers.  What a welcome!

Our mini Vlicho moment

At anchor in Kekova Roads - 11th October

Today we're mopping up after three days of torrential rain and wind - one heavy shower after another. 
Yesterday evening just before dark a sudden squall hit us with a ferocious 50 knot blast that sent the boat heeling right over. The visibility went to zero and raindrops came at us like bullets.  We got soaked to the skin and thoroughly chilled standing in the cockpit with the engine on in case the anchor dragged. It proved a good call to have put 35 metres of chain out in 3.5 metres of water as the anchor held fine. Twenty minutes later and it was all over.  We poured ourselves a generous gin and tonic each to celebrate coming out of it unscathed.

Then in the early hours of this morning, another squall came over.  This one was a feeble 35 knots - hardly worth getting out of bed for, we reckoned. Although our storm was nothing like as bad as the tornado that hit Vlicho recently, it's left us feeling a bit rattled. It's still unsettled today and the barometer's yet to show a rise, so we keep anxiously scanning the clouds for anything threatening that might hit us again.

Annoyingly, the rain's left a layer of red dust everywhere on deck and it found its way through the dorade vents to drip down below. 

A sign that the worst is over?

Extreme Sightseeing

Kas - 5th October

Edd's visit wiped us out. More accustomed to gentle days at anchor, we weren’t prepared for a week of high-octane sightseeing. During his stay we've done two 20km walks over rough mountain terrain, visited a ghost town, numerous historic sites and a mountain gorge.  On top of all that, Edd ran 10km every morning!

Kale Koy - 8000 Greek inhabitants were forced to abandon the town during the infamous population exchange between Greece and Turkey in the 1920's

With the help of Kate Clow's excellent Lycian Way guide we trekked up to the ruins of Phellos perched high above a fertile plain.

The former Lycian garrison was well worth the climb. Lycian rock tombs and monuments untouched for centuries stood in majestic surroundings on a strategic ridge with views on all sides. We had the place to ourselves - no great surprise, given its inaccessibility.

The final leg of the walk took us 1500 feet down a precipitous mule track back into Kas, our leg muscles complaining every step of the way.

The view over Kas from the top of the mountain path

Next we hired a car to visit Xanthos, the old capital of Lycia.

Rock tombs with modern polytunnels behind

Sir Charles Fellows kindly left these behind

Yet more tombs, a Greek theatre, a Roman agora, a Byzantine church. Sadly part of the site was looted by Sir Charles Fellows in the 19th century and put in the British Museum . The biggest challenge was to avoid the unofficial guides who lurked behind tombs to insist on showing us around.  We drove on to picnic at Patara, which was Lycia's chief port and then its capital after the people of Xanthos committed mass suicide when the Romans defeated them rather than face captivity.  Patara's ruins lie mainly unexcavated under sand dunes on the coast, its harbour now silted up and 3km from the sea.

The silted harbour at Patara

Taking a break at the Greek theatre at Patara

It's a magnificent place. We were in need of a swim after clambering over all the old ruins in the midday heat and went to the beach.

The day's highlight came at Delikemmer, a marvel of engineering on a hillside along the Lycian Way.

Roman engineering - interlocking stones to form a pipe

The 2,000 year old Roman water siphon system and aquaduct carried water to Patara from a spring several kilometres away. This section is at the top of a 20 foot wall. To our surprise we could see below us the Yesilkoy anchorage where we'd spent the noisy night with the gulets.

If we thought our exertions would bring a good night's sleep, we were wrong. Late in the evening a strong wind began to gust down off the hill. Towards midnight we heard a loud bang and all the lights went out. Some power lines had been blown together, and the resulting sparks set fire to the scrubby hillside, the flames fanned by the gusty wind.  It looked more dramatic than it actually was, but the fire brigade were still at work in the morning to keep the blaze from spreading.

Hillside ablaze seen from the marina

Our second walk was the more strenuous of the two. It took us from the small farming village of Bogazcik down 1,000 feet to the ruins of Aperlae, where we could snorkel over the remains of a sunken harbour.  Then back again.  It was downhill through the scrub, the path getting steeper and stonier as we went.

Spot the path!

We'd overdosed on Lycian tombs by now so Aperlae was a bit of a disappointment.

Yet more Lycian tombs....

The snorkelling wasn't that great either - the water was murky and the underwater ruins were hard to pick out. It was a long and exhausting trudge back uphill. On the way back we foolishly took a detour to the ruins of Apollonia and were exhausted by the time we'd picked a path back across a scrubby hillside to the car.

On the last day of Edd's visit we went to the Saklikent gorge.  It's a tourist magnet with loads of tatty souvenir stalls, but wading up the gorge itself was great fun. The air was fresh and the spring water was icy cold. After only 1km the gorge is blocked by a waterfall and you have to turn back, so we were spared a strenuous outing that day.
 

Thawing out after wading through the gorge

After we got Edd to Dalaman airport for his flight back to London, it was a relief to put our feet up for a rest. It was great he came out to see us and we loved having him to stay.  He's excellent company these days. It may have been exhausting, but we also loved getting off the boat and seeing more of Turkey. 

Overheating

Kas - 2nd October

"Yet another thing to fix," groans Leighton.  The list gets longer by the day.  Unless we keep below 1,000 revs (which gives us 4 knots of speed) the engine has started to overheat. Apart from the heat exchanger cap problem that now has a temporary fix, the thermostat is sticking. A firm tap on it brings the temperature down a little.  Once we're in Kas we'll sort it all out as Edd is bringing some spares with him, but first we've got to get there.

Our stay in Kapi Creek turned out to be unusually sociable. Soon after Colin and Bronwen left to explore more of Skopea Limani, we were hailed from the dock by some old friends who we last saw three years ago. Wilma and Francis were our neighbours back in Ayamonte, Spain. They happened to be passing the entrance to Kapi Creek and seeing it was busy decided not to stop until they noticed Makarma. We celebrated the extraordinary odds that our paths would cross by spending the evening reminiscing and sharing our adventures.

We timed our departure for some wind in the forecast but to our frustration there was almost no wind at all. We managed only three miles of slow sailing to Karacoroen and another six miles the next day along Patara beach on the way to Kalkan. We crawled the rest of the way under the poor old donk, eyes glued to the temperature guage.

We sailed past Patara, the site of a Lycian city & birthplace of Santa Claus

We anchored in Yesilkoy Limani just west of Kalkan for one night. It was a peaceful place until six gulets came and parked close by.

Once the partying had died down around midnight, the wind got up until 4am. Between 5am and 6am the gulets left one by one. We felt distinctly bleary-eyed when we left in the morning for the last stretch to Kas - motoring of course.

Summer comes to an end

Kapi Creek - 22nd September

We climbed up to these Lycian rock tombs from Tomb Bay

A dramatic thunderstorm yesterday evening broke the long run of settled summer weather, bringing the first rain we've had since May. We were safely tied up to the restaurant quay in Kapi Creek.

The storm approaches

We watched the rain bucket down over a meal of meze and shish in the excellent company of Colin and Bronwen. They're on a week's charter out of Gocek and we met them in Tomb Bay when they moored alongside us in one of the tiny coves there. 

After the rain washed the dust out of the air overnight, the visibility is pin sharp this morning. The deck's beautifully clean too.

This morning also brought sobering news of a vicious Force 11 squall lasting half an hour in Vlicho Bay, one of our favourite bolt-holes in the Ionian. It caused the tragic death of a Frenchman who fell overboard and drowned.  It also damaged at least 100 boats.  Take a look at the pictures of the devastation at http://www.theionian.com.
We get the message - don't get too complacent, even in idyllic surroundings.  The weather has a habit of sneaking up and biting you when you least expect it.

At the height of the storm

What's not to like about Turkey?

Gocek - 19th September

We're enjoying the sheltered waters of the Gulf of Fethiye.  You could spend weeks here pottering from one little bay to another without getting bored.  Pines grow down to the shore, the water's clear and the going's easy.

Yet another idyllic place to spend the night

Things we like about Turkey:
The people are friendly and very obliging - nothing's too much trouble
They are enterprising too - a village lady makes pancakes in the bow of a motorboat while she's ferried about by her son; a barber stopped Leighton in the street offering to cut his hair; mini-market boats ply up and down the anchorages to sell us fresh bread and produce.
It's green - perhaps because they keep fewer goats than the Greeks?
The food is fantastic with loads of fruit and vegetables in the markets. Cathy's personal heaven right now is the plentiful supply of fresh figs and pomegranates.
Prices are cheap and our pounds go further in lira, the local currency.

The pancake lady touting for business

Beachside beauty parlour

Things we don't like about Turkey:
Enthusiasm to sell you something can stray over into pestering - Leighton found it hard to browse the chandlers without being hassled
Small biting flies, which invariably bite you on the ankles when you're trying to berth in a tight spot
Anchoring in deep water - we realise our 65 metres of chain isn't enough
Gocek is the only town we haven't taken to - too many yotties for our taste

Today we took the bus from Gocek to Dalyan to see some magnificent Lycian tombs cut into the cliff above the river that flows through the town. The ancient city of Caunos sits on a hill a short way downstream.  It fell into decline when the river silted up the harbour and cut off access to the open sea.

The ferrywoman who rowed us across the river to the rock tombs

Tombs ancient and modern

Gateway leading to old harbour

Theatre at Caunos overlooking the Dalyan river

 In case you think we've been having too much of a good time, there is a fly in our ointment.  Just recently our engine has been overheating unless we keep to low revs. The neck of our heat exchanger has been patched many times over and the last time we did it, the repair only lasted a couple of weeks.  We've sourced a new one that we hope will come out with Edd who visits us next week.  Meantime, this is Leighton's ingenious fix using a wooden bung, and we keep our fingers crossed we won't have to use the engine much until it's properly repaired.  

A boat called spaghetti

Marmaris Harbour - 11th September

We left Ayamonte on the Spanish Algarve on 10th May 2009, bound for Marmaris in Turkey. Yesterday we finally got here!

Leighton's page from our scrapbook back in 2009

Not bad going for a boat called 'spaghetti' in Turkish. The Turkish word for pasta is 'makarna'. It explains why we're often asked here what our boat name means. It's a bit of a struggle explaining the concept of karma to someone with limited English!

On Thursday we rounded Karaburun Point on an exhilarating beam reach in 20 knots of wind.  Here the Aegean ends and the eastern Mediterranean begins. We say a fond goodbye to the Aegean after just over a year's cruising there. Our first night round the corner is in Lorymer. We've come to visit the Hellenistic citadel on a headland which has a commanding position overlooking the Rhodes channel.

The view from the citadel over the anchorage of Bozuk Buku

The Turkish flag flying over the ramparts of the citadel

After a day's rolling downwind we're ready for our next stop in Ciftlik, which is reputed to be full of Russians. We're disappointed not to hear a single word of Russian, and Leighton picked up a stomach bug from something he ate for dinner ashore.  A strong katabatic wind blew up overnight to keep us awake for a while, despite being tied to a pontoon. That left us with the short hop to Marmaris yesterday.

We're now anchored in a sheltered rural corner of this magnificent natural harbour with pines growing right down to the shore and covering the hills behind. It's a popular spot for local holidaymakers to come and have a picnic and swim.  A short dinghy ride takes us to Pupa Yat marina where we can catch the dolmus into town.  We'll be here a few days for Leighton to browse round the chandlers for spares and Cathy to get a haircut and reprovision the boat.

Having now seen what the huge Marmaris Yacht Marina is like, we're very glad we decided not to overwinter there. It is miles from town and has a very impersonal feel about it. The winter liveaboard community apparently want you to join all manner of group activities every day of the week. Fine if you like quiz nights, gossip and knitting circles, but if definitely isn't for us.

Night-time Intruders!

Selimiye - 6th September

Last night on the town quay at Selimiye we had two unwelcome intruders. The first dropped down through the workshop hatch and when challenged by Leighton, shot through the cabin to escape to the nextdoor boat. It was one of the town cats and it gave us a bit of a fright. Later we heard footsteps on the deck and shooed away a second cat, a different one this time. I think we'll be anchoring tonight.

A first for us - we took the dolmus (the local minibus) from Orhaniye to Marmaris to get set up with internet access and a Turkey sim card. It was a tight squeeze for the 25km journey. The 12 seater vehicle carried 23 adults, one baby, one puppy and a 30kg Bruce anchor.  The springs complained most of the way and we ground up the hills in first gear, but somehow we got there.

The pilot is right to describe Orhaniye as a gem. It's a bullet proof anchorage with excellent holding, and we stayed there several nights. One day we tied up to Ersoy's ramshackle pontoon for the night as recommended by Suzie & Robin of True Blue.  When we mentioned their name to Mustafa, we were instantly one of the family and he ceremoniously gave us a handful of figs fresh from the garden.  We enjoyed a fish supper on the terrace, a free berth with electricity, drinking water and showers thrown in. You can't beat it. 

There's someone in Wilmington Delaware who owns a lot of boats. We've noticed several pleasure boats are flying the stars and stripes and give their port of registry as Wilmington.

What's going on? The boats are obviously local and owned by Turks. Is it a tax dodge? How do they qualify to fly the US flag? Has someone in Wilmington got a scam going? Answers on a postcard please.

Paradise Found?

 Paradise Bay, Hisaronu gulf, Turkey - 28th August

As Greece has been our home for almost two years, we were finding the prospect of leaving the country a bit of a wrench.  When it came to it, Symi made it easy for us. Everyone raves about Symi, but we found the island a complete disappointment. After a dull 30 mile motorsail from Nisyros, we anchored in Panormitis on the southwest corner of Symi. We met the high season crowds and our first flotilla of the season. A monastery stands on the shore with a large hotel wing that looks like it was designed for Soviet-era workers' holidays. Although the anchorage is almost entirely sheltered from the sea, a slight swell rolled in, making for an uncomfortable night.

We decided to move on the next morning to Pethi, just south of Symi town.  Don't bother to go there, the holding's dreadful and boats often drag their anchor.  As we weren't happy we were properly hooked, we tied up to the quay used by the Rhodes water boat so we could leave the boat to take the bus to Symi town.  There we found a heaving mass of day-trippers and souvenir shops.  We stayed just long enough to cancel our Cosmote broadband account, pick up bacon, beer and wine and check out.

Crossing the border

Eight miles across from Symi and we arrive in Turkey. Bozburun is situated at the head of an attractive gulf littered with islands and bays. Approaching the harbour the first thing you see is the silver dome of the town's mosque.  Gulets are tied up in the harbour, we find loads of fruit and vegetable stalls and a hyper-clean toilet/shower block.

Tied up in Bozburun harbour

Two hours after we arrive, our entry formalities are all complete - thanks to a shipping agent who sports a paunch and a pony-tail, and gets about on a tricycle.

We are in the Hisaronu gulf.  Our first reaction to sailing here is if it's all like this, we won't ever leave. Crystal clear water, no swell, a gentle afternoon breeze and calm overnight anchorages.  What a pleasant change from the Dodecanese!

Taking it easy

Just when we're thinking it's too good to be true, an unwelcome reality intrudes. We've noticed that water has started to creep into the bilge and go to investigate. A hot and bad tempered morning later, Leighton sources the leak to the holding tank (oh joy!) and fixes it. He'd just fitted a new diverter valve (our second from the UK as the first turned out to be the wrong size), but this one is faulty and was letting water flow unimpeded into the tank even when it's closed.  This made the tank overflow - with seawater I hasten to say, not the contents of the loo.  Turkish environmental regulations are very strict, so we had to be very discreet about pumping the bilge out in the harbour. A hefty fine on our first full day in Turkey would not have been a good start. The bad news is we can't use the holding tank for now, but the good news is the bilge is now bone dry again.

Yesterday we put the whole episode behind us with a leisurely lunch on a mooring buoy off Bozburun followed by a glorious sail closehauled to Dirsek where we tied to a restaurant quay and feasted on all-you-can-eat meze for supper. 

Shoreside restaurant in Dirsek

Today we're anchored in Paradise bay tied back to the rocks on shore, watching the kids on a neighbouring gullet try to windsurf. The hills are green with woody shrubs and pines. It's back to home cooking tonight.

Facing down the wind

Paloi Harbour, Nisyros - 21st August

Makarma is the kind of boat that likes a bit of wind - especially when we're going downwind. The trouble is, if you want wind around here there's usually too much of it. Take Friday when we left Pothia on Kalimnos for instance. After a gusty night on anchor watch, we set off to head round the west of Kos bound for Nisyros. The meltemi was blowing 20-25 knots, but the gusts off the hills as we left Pothia had the wind instruments leaping to 40 knots. It actually never occurred to us to turn back as with our stern to the wind and a bit of jib out the boat wasn't overpressed, especially once we got beyond range of the gusts. Later we had a 3 metre high following swell and below decks got to look a bit like a car crash with books, tools and papers flying about. Thankfully our trusty Aries did all the steering for us, or we wouldn't have coped. We were pretty tired by the time we surfed round the newly extended breakwater into Paloi harbour on Nisyros 32 miles later. We tied up beside a Russian boat whose skipper clearly thought we were either very brave or very stupid to have been out. We were lucky to find a space as the harbour was packed with boats that had opted to sit out the wind in harbour - I wonder why? 

 

Our Italian friends Neil and Erica had told us we must go to Nisyros. They used Paloi as their cruising base last summer. On their advice, we sought out Mike at Eagle's Nest who hired us a scooter for the day to go and see the island's dormant volcano. 

 

When the crater attendant saw we had one of Mike's bikes, he said, "I am Mike's second cousin, so you are family. If you want anything just ask me!"  It's a short but smelly climb down from the crater rim to the floor.  We could have done with gas masks.

 

Fiumeroles belch out sulphurous steam and superheated mud bubbles in the cracks. Everywhere we heard the disturbing sound of liquid boiling below the surface. 

Leighton's postcard to his nephew Alex and the real deal

Besides attracting loads of daytrippers from Kos, the volcano has produced a bonanza for the island in the form of Yiali, an offshore outcrop of pumice which is quarried to fill the municipal coffers. Later we had an bird's eye view of the crater from the St John the Evangelist monastery and the hilltop village of Nikia, which regularly features as one of Greece's loveliest villages. 

The hilltop village of Nikia overlooking the crater

We ate tender roast goat for lunch there on a terrace overlooking the sea, swam among black basalt rocks at Avlaki afterwards, and finally ended our tour of the island at the Palaiokastro, a massive 8th century BC fortress made of giant polygonal stones.

Palaiocastro, Nisyros

We can see what Neil and Erica liked about Paloi. The harbour is small with a handful of the usual pretty whitewashed houses along the waterfront. We are bows-to the quay facing the Aphrodite and Ellinis tavernas. There's a baker and minimarket and we have electricity and wifi. 

Paloi Harbour

For the moment it's quiet without anchor dramas, although that could change when the charter boats arrive later from Kos. From here we're heading east which will take us off the main track of the meltemi. There's not a breath of wind out there today, and it's not looking like there'll be enough for us to sail tomorrow either. It may be some time before we get a good day of downwind sailing again.