Dont mention ............

Following a peaceful night at anchor on Leros, we had a quick morning dip and then set off NW towards Patmos.

The wind had a bit more W in it today so after half an hour of motoring we were able to sail the rest of the way close hauled.

Leros to Patmos

Half way between Leros and Patmos someone has put a pair of small islands and associated reefs. They are quite tiny and at the normal passage making zoomed out view on the Chartplotter it would be easy to miss them. Fortunately we didn’t miss them, or is it that we were fortunate that we did miss them? Hard to tell sometimes.

Patmos approach also requires a bit of attention with various rocks and shoals about. We berthed safely. Although it is a managed harbour with a kiosk and Port Police, there is no-one to help with berthing. So we were planning a leap ashore when a nice local chap appeared and took our lines.

In previous trips it has almost always been the case that those lying in the cockpits of the boats adjacent will usually spring into action at some point. I am sure this is due to enlightened self interest as much as anything but on this trip there has been a noticeable lack of participation from fellow yachties. Not sure why this is. It may be that the feeling is that if they don’t try to help, any damage from a collision is clearly not on their insurance.

Maybe the insurance companies should make it clear that it is everyone’s responsibility to avoid collision, as under the Collision regs, even when berthed.

Interesting place Patmos, it is the spiritual centre of the Greek Orthodox Church. St John was exiled there and is said to have written the book of Revelations there.  He is said to have described the Apocalypse to a disciple in a cave half way up the mountain.

How he foresaw the ascent of Johnson/Trump/Putin/Bolsinaro/Xi/Modhi/Morrison and Orban is part of the great mystery of religion.

I think we know what would happen to him nowadays.

We had a nice couple of days in Patmos. My memory was of a slightly down at heel dusty place that just about catered for low level tourism, It has come up in the world significantly in the last few years. There are now loads of chic restaurants and bars extending up into the back streets with smart shops and the full retail experience was available. I had a bit of a dizzy turn.

There was a nice NW breeze the next day and we set of roughly NE on a short hop to Nisos Arki and its outlying island Marathonos. The good thing about this stretch of the Dodecanese is that almost irrespective of the wind direction you can readily point at a destination. Which is fine, so long as you don’t care where you go, which is pretty much where we are.

Pirate bay Marathomos

Just inside a bay on Marathonos, the two tavernas have laid a series of moorings which is very hospitable. It is also good business as they pretty much guarantee that the yachties will come to their taverna rather than sitting in splendid isolation aboard at anchor.

This region of the Northern Dodecanese has been designated as a National Wildlife Refuge. As a consequence they encourage laid moorings rather than anchors and the damage they cause to the sea bed ecosystem. A good result all round and we saw our first dolphin.

Sunset Marathonos

So we ate ashore at the Pirate Taverna, which was really nice, with friendly staff and good food. The island is over run with wild goats, [at least thats what it says on the Pirate’s menu].

Free figs for pud

After we left to have a peaceful night at anchor the singing started up in the Taverna. It sounded like a good time was had ashore. At about 3am the cockerel took over and the gentle dawn began.

Marathonos

The following morning we set off on another relatively short trip of some 15 miles NE towards Agathonisi.

A nice sail most of the way in quite light winds but just enough to keep us tripping along. The bay of the main settlement faces S and there are several options for anchoring. 2 yachts were already settled, one on anchor and the other on a mooring buoy. However we took the line of least resistance and picked up the only other mooring buoy. Up came a brand new white heavy hauser, and on diving down, this was attached by a heavy chain to two huge concrete blocks. Excellent. They are clearly giving you no excuse for anchoring.

However despite these excellent facilities, there are those who chose to anchor. There was a yacht not terribly far from us on anchor and it became clear he had quite a lot of scope out and when we swung round he would be on top of us.

Six men in a boat!

An elderly German chap was snorkelling nearby and surfaced beside the anchored yacht. He advised the skipper (English) that his anchor was sitting on top of a weed meadow and would do nothing to stop him dragging.

He advised that he re-anchor a few metres further out in the (clearly visible) sand and he kindly offered to assist taking a line ashore onto a bollard. This is what you are meant to do here and the villagers have helpfully cemented some bollards into the rocks for exactly this purpose.

However there are those who just don’t like being told what to do, and he was having none of it. He did re-anchor but decided to continue to swing, rather than attach himself to shore and thereby maintained his status as a hazard to all around. His continuing presence clearly was an obstruction to other yachts coming into the bay.

Good looking

Over the next hour it was clear he was dragging his anchor. It was light conditions but he was slowly getting closer to the moored up Coast Guard cutter on the harbour wall.

Eventually the German skipper, in an extra-ordinary demonstration of international co-operation and forgiveness over Brexit, swam out to him again. He pointed out that he was dragging his anchor and would he please allow him to help.

Agathonisi. yellow bollards ashore

Eventually he agreed. The Englishman, by this time in grumpy resignation, hastily tied together about five lengths of line he had in his locker to use as a shore line. I could not make out his method of knotting which looked a bit random, he clearly was not used to taking a line ashore.

Instead of lifting his anchor and dropping it again, he just reversed quite quickly towards the bollards while his lady wife pressed the down button on the windlass to let out chain, and the German gent swam ashore with the macrame shore line. There was then a bang and a thump and the windlass stopped. There was a bit of yelling about “keep pressing the bleeding button” and a strangled reply.

Fortunately the German chap was by this time ashore with their long line and had it on a bollard, and they were safe. The German wisely retired to his boat.

There was then a lot of inspection of the windlass and whatever was going on in the anchor locker.

Having recently been afflicted by windlass issues my sympathy levels were up, and I was also dying to know what had happened.

After a while of watching a lot of banging and cursing I could contain myself no longer and rowed over in the dinghy to offer support. Well it was the only decent thing to do. It turned out that they had run out of chain and the rope bitter end attached to the chain had got itself jammed up in the windlass. Fortunately it had held and not separated otherwise the whole lot would have ended up in the briny.

My offer of help was spurned by the retort, “not unless your small enough to get inside this f****** locker”.

I rowed back with a bit of a smile on.

Full moon at sunset

M. This was not an end to our entertainment. It’s lovely when you’re tucked up safely and can watch others going through berthing torments.

In came an Italian yacht, looking relaxed and cool. Ladies reclined in stylish bikinis drinking languorously as they dropped anchor near a ‘mooring buoy’ in front of some local caiques tied on the small local pontoon. It was clearly just a daft place and the boat swung round threatening collision with those around. Drifts of Italian echoed as a bit of action on board started up. Some even put their drinks down. Their anchor was fouled on the buoy and disentangling proved tricky. How embarrassing.

However undaunted, they managed to disengage and somewhat randomly gunned backwards to berth stern-to next to the German. Absolutely no preparation for this happened. Their dingy, with outboard, was still attached to the stern, no fenders were deployed and no attempt made to attach anything as mundane as a mooring warp. In they charged with a background soundtrack of German shouting and gesticulation. By now the skipper of another British yacht, Suli, noticed the ensuing carnage and joined in with exhortations to leave. [ well perhaps he phrased it differently but we’re trying to be polite].

Aaaah

Eventually it was clear that the Italian ‘just go for it’ approach was not going to work as their tender obstructed the berth and they dodgemed their way off the neighbouring yachts. Eventually accepting defeat, they charged out, totally unabashed, no apology or acknowledgement of their gross neglect, they did an Itialian tune up on the diesel round to a bay around the corner where they could anchor and sort out their ruffled pride.

We enjoyed a meal in the the nearest of 3 tavernas. The village itself was a walk up a steep road, with a just few holiday houses and small beach in the port itself. Very pretty.

As we ate, we couldn’t help overhearing a loud and robust conversation taking place at the table next door, between the German skipper and the bloke from Suli.

After various subjects were exhausted they just about managed to avoid talking about the war but got close with the Berlin Airlift. As we left Google was being invoked. What a shame that these days you can’t have a good pub argument without someone spoiling it with facts.

Strong meltemi winds were forecast to arrive over the next few days, lasting for most of the week.

Bit of a blow coming

So a decision had to be made about where to be berthed safely in a place where there was plenty to do. Samos seemed to fit the bill in every way and we set off early the following morning. Little wind, and from the wrong direction. So the first day with a long motor. Hot showers and clean sheets an acceptable compensation.