Broaching the subject

I was somewhat relieved to be leaving Kalymnos, nice though it is. I had not planned ending my days in a dynamite accident, and some of the explosions had been mighty close.

The winds were predicted to be 15 to 20 knots from the NW but somewhat lighter to the E of the island. So we set off in that direction to beat our way Northwards to the island of Leros. Strangely as we set off the wind was from the SW, but this was just it curling around the bottom end of Kalymnos as as soon as we were round the corner a brisk breeze on the nose came in.

We were sailing reasonably well but definitely slower than I was used to. We really must get the bottom cleaned.

Slowest tanker in the world.

We tacked up the channel dodging tankers. There seemed to be a huge discrepancy is their pace. Some whizzed past and you had to keep your wits about you to stay out their way. There was another coming from the S that went incredibly slowly. I was tempted to cross in front of it as all the metrics from the hand held compass bearings suggested we could do this but in the end I chickened out and tacked away to allow it to pass. However when I tacked back again I still seemed to be passing in front of it. I then realised that we were actually going faster than it!

Not seen that before.

We arrived at Xerocampos, a nice anchorage at the S end of Leros. It is well protected from the prevailing winds and has some excellent moorings laid by the local restaurants in the bay. It was stated in the review pages on Navionics that the mooring buoys had been ordered to be removed by the Leros harbour master.

As we approached we could not make out any buoys, but then it became clear there were several transparent water bottles floating in the water??

We explored and picked up what looked like a bit of plastic pollution and lo and behold, a large hawser came up with it.

M gratefully applied the excellent mooring line and looked as if she was planning to settle for the evening.

Summertime at Xercampos

But not so I! I got out my scraper, mask, snorkel and swimming gear and planned my assault on the community of marine life that was accompanying us in our travels.

In one of the sailing YouTube channels I watch from time to time’ The Sailing Brothers from Cardiff, the guys recently scraped their hull in Panama. As part of this they got covered in little bits of marine life and had attracted a feeding frenzy of fish dining on their scrapings.

I therefore kept on a t shirt as PPE and in I went. Well twice actually. On the first attempt I ricochetted back out again because of the cold. But I galvanised myself for another go and this time I managed full immersion. Once you were anaesthetised it became bearable and I had a good session scraping. After about an hour I realised that my arms were not really following instructions any more and I aimed my numbed carcass ponderously to the swim ladder. While this was still an option.

I definitely smelled a bit fishy and had a few little stings from the sea life, so PPE is definitely a good idea.

As we arrived in the anchorage, I noticed a problem with the main sail. We have a partially battened main sail with a single full batten at the top. This batten is attached to the mast slider by a large customised bolt. It was gone.

This is not a disaster and the sail would still be fully usable but I was concerned that the attachments of the cars above and below might be stressed by this, and we certainly did not want to lose any more.

So the next day we went for a trek across the island to the main town of Lakki. Leros was the site of major military action during WWII and the history of this is very interesting. The architecture is Italian ‘rationalist’ and it was seen as an important base by Mussolini, thus significant money was spent. It has since faded significantly and is somewhat down at heel, but recently some of the Art Deco buildings have been done up again.

Deco school in Lakki.

We visited the marina and it’s chandlers to see if there was any chance of getting a replacement batten attachment bolt, but it was a forlorn hope. However M was more successful in finding replacement hinges for our heads seat which had mysteriously broken. Something to do with a sideways slide while the boat was heeled I believe.

Toilet seat repair!

On the return trip across the island, I realised I had suffered a footwear failure and had a large blister. All in all, a pretty futile escapade from my point of view.

However it was at this point that M put on her big girl’s pants, along with fetching rash vest and scraping stick and went in to try to eliminate marine life as we know it. Bravery beyond all understanding. I think it may have been the beer that helped.

Poseidon? Siren?

We had a discussion with the owner of the restaurant while eating there. It seems that he and his two neighbours were each fined 3000 Euros for the illegal placement of the moorings and required to remove them. However it seems there is a difference between a mooring buoy and a plastic bottle. Presumably the latter does not meet an EU standard of some sort. So maybe we have found that elusive Brexit unicorn. Must let Rishi know.

I had found a couple of old aluminium angled brackets and a large 10mm bolt in my box of bits. So I set about cobbling together a repair for the broken sail slider attachment.

A bit of hack sawing, drilling and angle grinding and it was done. It may not win any engineering achievement awards, but I think it will suffice as a short term bodge.

Sail slider repair.

It really needs a work shop to do some definitive grinding and drilling of a 10mm stainless bolt to make a proper job. I suspect an OEM part will be constructed of unobtainium.

They say yacht cruising is about fixing your boat in exotic places.

We were planning our next trip as a 55nm passage to Amorgos, the most Easterly of the Cyclades islands. The wind had settled a bit to a reasonable strength so we set off.

Summertime has a removable inner forestay that I would like to become more familiar with. The purpose of this is to put on additional sails such as a smaller working jib or indeed a storm sail if needs be. I have two working jibs on board but have never used them in anger though I did play about with them once before.

Staysail and Genoa, but not right 

I had another go. I wanted to see if I could sail with the working jib and Genoa simultaneously, as a cutter rig. I set it all up and went forward to hoist. It all looked quite good but of course the sheets were all muddled and took a bit of sorting out. It then became clear that it was not really going to work. There were not enough blocks and attachment points set up to use both sail controls simultaneously and I decided to abandon the attempt. Basically you can fly either the working jib or the Genoa but not both.

So I went forward to bring down the jib, bag it, get the sheets sorted, undo the inner forestay and re-attach it to its keeping point, just at the moment when the wind and sea state decided to get up. I had a somewhat testing half hour on a pitching foredeck sorting all this and was quite relieved to get back into the cockpit unscathed.

The rest of the passage was quite enjoyable. There was a decent sailing breeze if a bit forward of ideal and we made good progress. As we reached Amorgos island the wind picked up to 18-20kts and we reefed main and and Genoa. The sea started to heap up a bit and the last two hours of the passage were a bit tasty.

 As we approached the inlet to the harbour things took off further particularly regarding the waves. We were surfing down 2-3m waves that were coming in increasing sets of three and the steering was …. fun. Until Poseidon decided to throw a curve ball and put in a big fourth wave. I had run out of bite on the rudder as the wave speed was exceeding boat speed and we had a bit of a broach. But no harm was done. Just a bottle of gherkins that managed flight down below.

For non sailors a broach is where the wind and waves conspire to turn the boat broadside to the conditions, and can be dangerous particularly if there is another big one breaking behind you.

We had been setting ourselves up to perform a jibe to enter the gulf but the broach had caused the willies a bit so we tacked round instead, and I must say that was definitely the best option.

We got safely into the little town of Kataplolo, the capital of Amorgos, but there was no-one around on the harbour to take our lines. When we had been here before several years ago there had been a very helpful and effective harbour guy. M phone up the number in the Navionics entry for Amorgos and got through to someone. The harbour guy appeared about ten minutes later on his moped, and on crutches. This was going to be interesting as the conditions were still very windy.

He managed to get us in safely, but it was not easy as he hopped about trying to get lines secured. We thanked him in the usual way (10Euros) and asked about his heavily bandaged foot. A rope had come loose under tension and hit him! Ouch ..10 Euros was not enough.

M. The weather forecast warned of very strong winds to come. We would have to settle in for a few days of amusing ourselves in this beautiful place. We have been to Amorgos on our previous trip and had a happy day with Cristal and Klaus visiting the amazing ‘Game of Thrones’ type monastery. So we didn’t want to go there again..what else could Amorgos offer ? Walking and beaches seem to be its main attractions, along with hundreds of tiny churches dotting the landscape.

Churches, Everywhere!

Behind the harbour, a craggy hill dominates. Apparently it has been found to have been an early Minoan settlement. So off I set with my stout shoes [Colin’s blister giving him an excuse!] and had a steep walk out of the village, into the mountainous terrain.

Basil Fotherton-Thomas. Hello clouds, Hello sky!

 It was quiet and I enjoyed a peaceful hike into the wilderness, encountering only quizzical sheep and the whistle of the wind in the background. Wild flowers and herbs abound in this unseasonal cool period.

After a steep climb and a bit of scrambling I reached the summit . What a view over the length of the island and out to sea, with a few white horses whipping up.

Katapola, Amorgos (puff, pant)

The ‘ Minoan village’ was just about recognisable as something, but without explanations and information, I think would really only be of interest for specialist studies.

Minoan village (apparently).

We later walked around the harbour in each direction, looking out at the heaped sea at the entrance with high rolling waves. The port is lovely, with a few pretty tavernas and typical Cycladic white and blue cubed houses. 

The ferries appear at regular intervals, of various types. There’s a fast hydrofoil several times a day, and an enormous car ferry at night, when queues of taxis appear and people trundle along with their wheeled suitcases. An enormous oil tanker slid gracefully onto the harbour wall, disgorging one of its 3 petrol tankers to refuel the island. They are all slick at docking with minimal fuss and perfect precision.

As forecast, the wind picked up over the next 24 hrs. with constant mid 20knots, gusting up to mid- 30knots across us.

Very Breezy.

C. We seemed to be fairly safely berthed. The wind direction was across us but the anchor seemed well dug in and we had not moved at all in 48 hours of strong breeze.

However suddenly the wind strength increased significantly. I mean people were walking leaning forwards at 45 degrees type of strong. We sat on deck monitoring the situation.

There was a guy we had helped to berth by catching his lines a few days ago who had not endeared himself. He shouted mercilessly at his poor crew, often contradictory and wrong instructions, and seemed thoroughly unpleasant. We had helped him significantly and he made not a semblance of gratitude. In fact he had tried shouting at us too.

Clearly he was stressed, but even so. I commented to him that he would get on better if he stopped shouting at everyone. M nearly threw his ropes back to him!

Anyway there was a degree of shadenfreude when more shouting occurred and it was clear his anchor was not holding and he was bumping off the harbour wall. He shouted and tightened his anchor and shouted again. In the end he put on his engine and motored against the warps to hold himself off as the gale continued.

Breezy

It was forecast to go down a bit in about four hours.

I suddenly became aware we were in the same situation.

 The problem with a cross wind is that it blows the bows off down wind and puts a lateral pull on the anchor which compromises the longitudinal tension the anchor has on the boat, and it can all drift sideways, then the boat hits the shore.

I had anticipated this and put a long line from the bow to an upwind bollard ashore and this was helping- but it was not enough when the big winds hit.

I tried several times motoring out, and tightening up the chain, but on each occasion after half an hour I was back to square one.

The real solution was to put a long line from the bow to bollard on the ferry terminal which was forwards of us. But this would take out the potential for 3 spaces alongside us, and I thought the harbour master might object. Also by this time, getting on and off the boat to do this was going to be a bit dodgy.

Fortunately a couple of taxi drivers waiting for the ferry came to the rescue. “Why don’t you put a rope over there, Problem solved” said one.

 Force vectors, remember them?

I quickly agreed and passed him the very long rope I had ready. And indeed that was the problem solved. The anchor has plenty of traction to keep us off the wall providing the forces are in a straight line, and that straight line is maintained by a rope going at 90 degrees to it countering the cross wind.

Why should I be surprised that Greek guys get Geometry. Euclid, Pythagoras etc.

Even the local plants are geometric!