Mechanical failure

Ciftlik to Loryma

The elements were again favourable for a Westerly sail so we set off back down the Peninsula. It was a bit of a motor and then a sail, as is commonly the case. Again we were hit by the sudden appearance of a strong wind with little warning. We heeled dramatically and I might have turned up-wind to de-power and reef. However we were under reasonably good control so we carried on sailing and reefed the main first and the the Genoa while under sail well heeled. It was a good exercise which we came through well and providing everything works is much better than allowing everything to flap out of control while sail is shortened,

We settled into Loryma. I am not a great foodie, though you would not know it from my girth from time to time, but the guys in Loryma have turned their little piece of rural idyll into a very enjoyable setting for a meal. Good music, wonderful vista, comfortable cushioned benches and large tables, not to mention the goats and donkeys. The food is also excellent and all at not much above average cost.

We had been due to receive our Hanson Cup award from the cruising association, which was cancelled again due to covid, (did I mention that we had been given an award for this blog).

It had been going to be presented by Mike Golding who many will have heard of. Mike is an extreme single handed racing sailor and has done, and won, everything. He was due to give a lecture that described how he had turned back to rescue Alex Thompson, a fellow competitor in the Southern Ocean. He was doing his lecture as a Zoom event and we used the Wi-Fi in Loryma to join in. All a bit surreal given the rural setting surrounded by ancient artefacts we were in while participating in a live webinar using modern comms technology. He is a very impressive guy for sure.

M's Donkey Companion

The next day we headed off round the corner in a light easterly wind. As we lost the wind we decided to put away the Genoa.

Since we have been here I have been a bit unhappy about the Genoa furling. It has been a bit stiff and the foil has furled and unfurled jerkily, and I have worried that it has been rotating on the forestay eccentrically. This may not mean much to the non-sailor, but there is nothing more infuriating than an eccentric furler.

As we went to put the sail away it jammed completely. We unfurled it a couple of times, tensioned and de-tensioned the halyard and tried everything we knew to furl it, but to no avail. Fortunately we had just lost the breeze so had a few options. I tried to drop the sail, but no, it would not come down. I got out the binos and lay on my back on deck to look up at the mast-head. I could see that the furling swivel had come asunder and there was no way of either furling the sail or dropping it.

One technique of sorting this circumstance is to remove the sheets from the sail and allow it to stream forwards in the wind and then motor round in circles to wrap it round the forestay. We tried this but there just wasn’t sufficient breeze for this to work. So in the end we just manually wrapped the sail round the stay and while it looked like a pair of M’s bloomers, at least it was away and safe.

Bloomers!

I shudder to think what might have happened if this had failed the day before when we were trying to reef under duress.

Having got the sail away we decided to return to base in Marmaris to try to get it sorted. So a long 35 mile motor into the wind to get back to Marmaris Yacht Marina and we anchored up as the sun was setting to wait to berth in in the morning.

Trying to put jammed sail away.

I emailed the company that did our rigging work and they promptly attended the next morning. I may do a separate technical blog to describe the problems we have had with the work that we had done, but it is fair to say that the guys turned up promptly, sorted us out and we were off again within 24 hours. So well done to them.

Ciftlik to Dirsek. 

Our next trip was to a Ciftlik near Marmaris and from there to a wonderful anchorage known as Dirsek on the S coast of the Gulf of Datca.

We had a motor and then a good sail down into a Westerly wind., turning N round the end of the peninsula and on to our destination.

Dirsek is a large bay with good anchoring all round it taking lines ashore. There is single restaurant ashore which is lovely with very friendly folk. We anchored off the South coast of the bay as Southerly stronger winds were forecast.

Summertime at anchor. 

We sat for a day and nothing much happened with the wind, and then again for another day. The winds were delayed each time I looked at the forecast. We tried to go for a walk ashore but the maquis was vicious nasty sharp stuff and eventually we retreated bleeding from multiple scratches and punctures.

Dirsek with scratched legs. 

The bay was becoming a bit busy, with yachts looking for a place to shelter. There were several boats of young Russians doing a bit of whooping it up. One came to anchor alongside us.

They dropped the anchor and fell back about 20 metres in total (not enough). Two blokes got in the dinghy to take the ropes ashore. However the rowing technique seemed more appropriate for Venice, rowing the dinghy backwards while standing up as in The Gondoliers. The comic opera theme continued.

Eventually they got the lines in place. The young lady on the bow started tightening up the anchor however the line handlers on the stern let out the lines as she pulled up the chain, and inevitably, up came the anchor.

There was a lot of voluble discussion as the Chorus took up the tune, but no action seemed to ensue. Eventually the girl on the front took up the aria and sang to us “We’ve never done this before, what do we need to do!”. The reply might have been “Your on your own, Mendoza”, but that would have been churlish.

So M and I got in the dinghy and explained that we would take the ropes, they would take the boat further out and re-anchor, drop back to us and we would hand them the rope which they can then tighten up. It all went reasonably well although they ended up a bit closer to the shore than I would like, but my Russian was not up to expressing my concern.

Dirsek Restaurant

The strong southerly winds still failed to arrive. The following morning the young Russian team were out doing some rowing practice and after an hour or so they were just about getting it right, but were clearly struggling a bit. They went to leave. The shore team were a young bloke and girl, but this time he decided to use the outboard. Predictably he could not get it going and progress was being made by pulling the starter cord repeatedly which turned the prop and provided a small amount of forward motion. It was very painful to watch. 

Eventually the skipper managed to convey to him how to turn on the fuel and he managed to get it going - a bit. Each time he started it he managed to turn the wrong way and biffed into the side of our hull. They took it all in good humour however, the girl was in fits of hysterics and the bloke was not far behind. 

Eventually the ropes were released but instead of hanging on and being pulled towards the yacht, they let go, and ended up 100m away. The anchor was up and they were not able to row or maintain directional control with the outboard. Eventually the yacht reversed back to get them and all was well.

Most cats don't sail much. 

They were a nice bunch but as they went off into a potentially strong wind I had great concerns about them.

Our waiting for the winds to arrive ran out of patience and we needed to go somewhere so we left some half an hour later. As we left the bay it became clear there was a rising breeze and we made sail. I then became aware that the Russians boat was still in the fairway and they were also trying to get the sails out, but were struggling a bit. Eventually they got the sails set and took off hugely heeled and with a surge of acceleration. Straight towards us.

We tightened up and managed to stay ahead of them until they suddenly fell off and did a full force uncontrolled gybe to shoot off in the opposite direction. I hope they are all right.

Youn Russians head to Simi.  

We sailed up to the head of the gulf. Not far but the winds were gusting from the South. Each bay and gulf we went past resulted in a series of strong gusts. We probably should have reefed, but we were OK and having fun. The plan was to anchor at Orhaniye which is a gulf protected by high mountains and should be sheltered from Southerly winds.

Orhaniye is hugely picturesque. There is an island with fortifications in the middle of the pine clad fjord, fairly shallow depths with mud and sand so good holding and should be a perfect anchorage. We anchored up beside the island.

There is a sand bar extending out several hundred metres that the faithful walk out on to mimic walking on water. Is this the final end point of religion?

The Walkers On Water

The wind arrived. The strategy was wrong. Huge gusts of wind came crashing down the mountains and were funnelled up the valley. We had an uncomfortable evening but we were well dug in and had plenty of scope out so were totally secure. It is always a bit of a thought to go to bed in such conditions so I took the first shift. Fortunately it slowly settled so by around 2a.m. I was happy to call it a day. It is M’s turn next time.

So my plans for high wind shelter need to be revised. I have no doubt that being in the “Paradise Bay” a couple of miles across the gulf would have been much less gusty and more comfortable. Technically we would have been on a lee shore such that if we dragged we would hit land, but the reality is that almost anywhere you anchor round here is on a lee shore eventually as there is not open sea in the gulfs. I will ponder this.

In the morning it had all changed round and the light Westerly had returned. We upper anchor and headed back up the gulf to Datca in a series of long tacks. The wind built a bit and we duelled with a couple of other boats.

 To my chagrin there is no doubt that a big modern Beneteau was faster and pointed higher than us. He was flying a defaced blue ensign, the sure sign of a maritime bully. As soon as he had beaten us. He headed back in the opposite direction. What is that all about?

We have only a few days left now in this trip, which as always, the end has come far too quickly. I have an outline plan for for stopping in a few favourite spots before we head back. But this will probably be a bit more of the same.

So I will do one final blog about getting the boat winterised and not bore the reader with our final meanderings.