Wherever the wind blows. Naxos Mykonos and Ios

M. It has struck us as odd that there seems to be so much variation and inconsistency in the administration of each port. Arriving in Naxos we were greeted by a bearded chap in faded shorts who seemed to be in charge. He spoke little English and instructions were vague, but he directed us to a tight berth, bellowing at us to drop an anchor. There were about 5 mooring lines hanging from the quay and all the boats around us had their anchors up. What can possibly go wrong here then? And is this chap official or just having a laugh? Our fears were not qualmed by the leaflet he offered us advertising boat services, including divers.
He didn't seem interested in our hard earned and perfect paperwork. He shrugged and walked off. What a difference from the Paros lot! It seems that each island port has autonomy to run things its own way, making each arrival a bit of pot luck.
Naxos Town centres round a crumbling , but partially restored, castle and its famous marble portal which is all that remains of an unfinished temple dedicated to Apollo from about 500BC..
The town at first glance seems a bit down at heel. Not as prettified as Paros, but a wander around the backstreets revealed lots of lovely gems and alleyways.We had a good meal [ aubergine and feta in a clay pot] in a local taverna and witnessed an interesting vignette of the great tapestry of life.
We were served by a lovely friendly waitress who was fun and chatty. She picked up a large vase of flowers and went to move it to another table. As she turned, she bumped into the owner. Water and flowers flew everywhere and they both erupted in laughter. Soon after, a couple arrived to sit at the table next to us, and later joined by a 3rd diner. The large man sat down, only to jump up and complain loudly that his trousers were wet. He pointed to a small area of wet on his derriere. The waitress just about managed to keep a smile off her face as she apologised profusely and much offering of tissues ensued. Things calmed down, but we could hear continued growlings and discontent coming from our neighbours.
At the end of the meal we were given a taste of one of the local triumphs.. a cinnamon and honey flavoured liqueur called Rakamelo. Lovely. Our waitress then took a tray to our grumpy neighbours . The inevitable happened . Almost in slow motion, the glasses slid along her tray and one flew off splattering out fellow dour diner. He leapt to his feet, apoplectic with rage and started yelling at the waitress. He was totally obnoxious, shouting at her to go away and get the manager. She looked quite shaken. The manager came and did the needful obsequious apologising. There was indeed a slight smear of sticky liqueur on his shirt. But Mr Windbag hadn't had his fill. He continued to rage and humiliate the waitress and refused to pay the meal for himself and his 2 fellow diners. I thought Colin was going to clobber him.

We told the manager that we felt the customer had been ridiculous and complimented them on the lovely meal. The waitress emerged from the shadowy depths of the interior when they had stomped off and we sympathised with her. She shrugged ' I'm all right. A lot of people are like that ' . How sad. We gave her a big tip, her face lit up and she ran to the manager who shouted thanks and smiles as we left. Why are some people so snotty and pompous?

Looking from apollo gate to Naxos

Apparently Naxos interior is lovely. We hope to be able to return sometime and explore its nooks and anchorages in more settled weather.
We decided our next destination would be Ios but the morning broke with a brisk southerly blasting up the channel between Paros and Naxos so it would have been a mission to sail South.
We slid out of our mooring and the anchor behaved beautifully. Guess our shorted chappie knew his stuff after all.
So we decided to head north towards Mykonos and had a slightly lumpy but cracking run on genoa alone.This is called going where the wind blows.
The pilot book suggested that mooring in the New Port would be straightforward. We arrived and aimed for one of the many free berths.
Shouting and gesticulating came our way....'No room No room.. Go away, call up on ' 10 or was it 12?

They go past at >35 kn

Aaaaaaargh!

By this time there were ferries whizzing past in every direction.

watch out for those danged ferries!

I called on Channel 10 no response.
Channel 12 returned my polite enquiries with an irritated torrent of Greek.[ think it was the coastguard]
We tried to work out a plan B and began to head out of port but suddenly we heard broken English on the Vhf. 'yes there is berth... Make your way in'
So we returned towards the agitated chap on the pontoon who indicated a berth near our originally intended one. He took our warps with an air of resignation and told us to send 'an SMS SMS!'. He gave us a card with unintelligible numbers on it.
All very confusing but I later tracked down a very serious chap, in uniform, in a booth. 14 euros a night and 2 nights.. fine. Lots of handwriting and carbon copies. A glance at our registration papers but no enquiries about all the other flaming certificates! Apparently it is usual to contact them before arrival by means of text requesting a berth. However there is no almanac that we know of that has the relevant information to hand. I think most of the information for each port can be found on Google, but of course that needs a 3G signal, which is a bit sporadic round these parts..How are you supposed to know all the vagaries of each port and their unique rules of engagement? Answers on a postcard will be gratefully received. The new port is about a mile away from the old town where all the action is. A dusty walk on the busy road made us hot enough to justify a beer whilst we enjoyed the sunset and we took the water taxi back home.

Mykonos

Mykonos Old port

Mykonos red eye transport

 We had planned to spend the next day visiting Delos - a small barren island nearby that apparently had great maritime and commercial power in the glory days of the ancient Mediterranean world, apparently birthplace of Apollo and complete with another oracle and archaeological site. It is not legal to anchor near the island so a visit necessitates a ferry visit. However we ran out of enthusiasm the following morning and had a lazy day instead, planning an early start the next morning for a 10 hr sail to Amorgos. We awoke to a fine day and were itching to go at 7am . However the  harbourmaster wasn't there ..... He had declined payment when we arrived and so we had to wait patiently ...... until he eventually arrived at 9am.

Looking up at Ios from the harbour

We set off, playing Russian roulette with the ferries as we negotiated the channel, when it became clear that the wind was not auspicious for our planned route. We would be very late in arriving. We have been wary of sailing at night if we can avoid it, and arriving in these ports seems to be hit or miss as to whether there will be a free berth. Also, many of the anchorages are sheltered from the northerly Meltemi winds but not the current southerlies, so finding an anchorage under pressure in the dark is not something we relish. The promised winds also declined and so we changed our plan en route and decided to make for Ios instead.
We sailed for about half the journey on a close reach when the wind picked up at about 2 pm, SSW. There was some tension on the way. Ios has a small harbour and there are few safe anchorages in the current winds.
We arrived at 6pm to find plenty of room fortunately, but only for about 10 yachts. Goodness knows how they cope in full season.
Ios also has a special place in our hearts from our youthful travelling. Memories are hazy of twisting alleys and a small dusty town, with donkeys taking the less fit up the hundreds of steps up to town from the harbour. It is now much bigger and the little streets are lined with drinking establishments with names such as ' Oblivion' ... 10 shots for 3 euros ....However at the moment it is free from the student hordes [ yes that was us ! ] and the locals are clearly enjoying the calm before the storm.

Locals enjoying the peace before the inundation