August 2009

Exploring the Sea of Corfu

When we decided to spend another summer in the Ionian, we knew that it was likely to be busy and hot. We wondered whether it would be a good idea to go further north and visit Albania and/or Montenegro. In the end, after talking to people who had been there, we decided that there was not enough to see to outweigh the cost of cruising permits for either country, or the hassle of dealing with the authorities there. We therefore decided to stay in Greece, and explore the north Ionian more thoroughly.

It was Thursday 16 July, and we were on a comfortable berth in the harbour at Plataria, in the Sea of Corfu, the stretch of water between Corfu and the Greek mainland. Our plan was to head north past Corfu, then west to the remote islands of Erikoussa and Othonoi. However, the weather forecast predicted strong winds on Sunday 19th, and we didn't want to find ourselves in a remote anchorage in bad conditions, so we decided to make a short round trip, returning to Plataria before the rough weather arrived.

On Friday 17th we travelled 9 miles north and anchored in a quiet bay at Ormos Valtou, near Igoumenitsa, then next day moved on a further 13 miles to Pagania. This was the bay from which we had fled one evening in May 2006 (described elsewhere on this website). Now that the political situation between Greece and Albania had apparently improved, we decided it was worth another try, and indeed it was. The bay is almost completely land-locked, being entered via a narrow channel, partly blocked by fish-farms. Inside, the shelter and holding are excellent and the surroundings are peaceful and beautiful. Because it is enclosed, the water is rather warm and green, but still acceptable for swimming in.

We spent one night there, were not bothered by Greek coastguards or Albanian desperadoes, and left next morning to return to Plataria. The forecast was for NW winds of Force 6, locally 7, increasing. Once at sea, we found it was already blowing Force 5, but fortunately from behind us (a broad reach in nautical parlance). This gave us a fast ride back to Plataria, 18 miles covered in just 3 hours.

Sick leave

Berthing in the strong cross-wind was not easy, but we had some help from other yachties ashore, and were soon tied up, as the wind rose to the predicted Force 6. It wasn't comfortable with the swell coming into the harbour, but we were safe. After all the trouble of getting back to Plataria, the wind dropped again before nightfall, and we would probably been quite safe if we'd stayed in Pagania!

On the day we returned to Plataria, Kay started to suffer with flu-like symptoms, which developed into a nasty cough. We decided to go nowhere until she was better, so stayed in Plataria until 27 July, relaxing, reading and doing odd jobs. The berth was cheap, and water and electricity were available at reasonable cost when needed, so it was a convenient place to rest up.

Not everything was perfect, however. One evening a rented boat arrived next to us with a crowd of Bavarians on board. They started carousing at 9pm, and were still going strong at midnight. At this point P suggested to them that they ought to have some consideration for the rest of us, who were trying to sleep. They replied that they were celebrating a birthday. P wished them a Happy Birthday, and asked them to please let the rest of us sleep. An hour later they were still talking loudly, laughing and singing, so P again asked them to behave in a more civilised manner. The biggest and loudest of them replied "you be quiet". That really got me going. I told him I was not going to be quiet for him, that they were behaving like barbarians, that it wasn't still 1940, and if they couldn’t enjoy themselves without annoying other people, they were a pretty sad bunch. It didn't do any good, and they eventually quietened down at about 2am. On reflection, the Germans have a word for this phenomenon: Schadenfreude, meaning "delight in the misfortunes of others". Of course, we have met many very pleasant Germans in our travels, particularly couples in their own boats. We have also had quite a few bad neighbours of other nationalities, usually holiday parties in rented boats, under the influence of alcohol. Still, in various ways Germans have contributed more than their share to our collection of obnoxious neighbours, as they rampage around in their grandfathers' footsteps.

On the weekend of 25/26 July, a festival took place in the town. It was explained to us that the church in Plataria is a "male" church, while a few kilometres down the bay is a "female" church (presumably this relates to the sex of the saint after which the church is named). Once a year the icon from the female church spends a night in the male church, and this is the excuse for a big party. We don't know what the icons get up to after the priests have gone home, but it all sounds rather pagan to us. In fact, as we have previously noted regarding the Greek Orthodox religion, while its central beliefs are basically Christian, its ritual seems to owe more to the practices carried on in the temples of ancient Greece than to the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. Add to that the host of saints who have got in on the act, and you have something approaching the ancient polytheism (with lots of gods). Until recently, we could at least say that all these modern gods and demi-gods didn't indulge in feuds and lechery as the ancient gods did, but now that we find the saints go off for dirty weekends, we're not so sure.

The icon was conveyed to Plataria by boat, with a flotilla of other boats escorting, and accompanied by the setting-off of flares, as by now it was almost dark. This was followed by a firework display from the quay near our boat, which caused some anxiety in case bits of hot firework should fall on the boats. Presumably the Saint was taking care of the safety arrangements, as no fires ensued. We went to the church to see what was going on, and were treated to an elderly priest talking at some length on the church steps, before the icon was taken into the church. The floodlit sports pitch was set up with tables and chairs for dinner, and there was a display of old photos of Plataria and its inhabitants, which was quite interesting. We didn't really feel part of the celebration, so didn't stay for the meal, and went back to the boat.

Unfortunately, there was no escaping the noise of the party, and the loud, wailing, Turkish-sounding music went on until 4 am. We had to use ear-plugs (essential in Greece!) in order to be able to sleep. The next night there was more loud music, this time until 5 am. The music consisted of a singer accompanied by a band, including a clarinet played in a shrill, wailing style which P has no desire to imitate.

Voyage to the Far-Off Isles

On Monday 27 July the weather forecast was reasonable and Kay was feeling well enough to put to sea, so we started out on our trip to Erikoussa. It was too far to do in one day, so we broke the journey at Pagania, which was again a delight. This time we heard and saw turtle doves. Being careful not to stray into Albanian waters, next day we passed up the channel between Corfu and Albania, along the north coast of Corfu, and into the open sea towards Erikoussa, motoring all the way with light winds on the nose (as usual). We anchored in the bay on the south of Erikoussa at 1745 hours, after a 7-hour passage of 33 miles.

The water at Erikoussa was the coldest we had encountered for several months, and the air was so cold that at night we were forced to wrap up to keep warm (our winter pyjamas were stored deep in a locker). A lot of swell came into the anchorage, and we had to deploy Flopsy, the device we use for limiting the boat's rolling in the swell. We have been surprised that in 5 summers in the Med we have so far not met another boat with one of these very handy bits of home-made equipment.

Next day we went for a short walk on the island, which is very pleasant and vegetated: the buildings seem to consist mainly of holiday cottages and apartments. In the afternoon we circumnavigated the island in 1½ hours, and returned to the anchorage, which we shared that night with 39 other boats. Some of the boats had come over from Greece as we had, but for many this was their first landfall on their way to Greece from Italy.

We had intended to continue to the island of Othonoi, which lies a few miles further to the west, and was our first landfall in Greece in 2006. However, the anchorage there is even less sheltered than that at Erikoussa, and we had had enough of cold, rolly anchorages. We decided instead to head down the west coast of Corfu to visit one of the bays at Paleokastriti. After a trip of 16 miles, mainly motoring, we arrived there to find that one of the bays had been cordoned off for swimming, the other was tiny and not suitable for a boat of our size, and the harbour had been turned over to tripper boats serving the holiday trade. Moreover, the whole place was no more than a garish holiday resort, nothing like the pleasant fishing village we had expected. We decided not to stay.

As there are no other harbours or suitable anchorages on the west coast of Corfu, and it was now afternoon, we returned northwards to the nearest available anchorage, which unfortunately meant another night at Erikoussa. This time we anchored much closer to the shore and had a calmer and warmer night than before. We put the day's wasted trip down to exploration.

Happy Birthday!?

Next day, which was Kay's birthday, we planned to spend the night somewhere on Corfu, where we could get ashore and have a nice meal. The only harbour along the way was very small and already full, so we decided to try our luck at one of the bays on the east side of the island, where we could row ashore to a taverna. These also were very crowded, but we finally found a nice spot in the corner of the bay at Agni. At around 1630 hours we had just finished tying a stern line to the rocks to keep us in position, when the large motor yacht ("floating gin-palace") with which we shared the bay started emitting loud disco-type noise. We weren't going to live with that all night, so we quickly untied, lifted the anchor and set off again.

By now it was getting late and our options were running out. After several changes of plan, we decided to go to Pagania, and we anchored there at 1920 hours, about 1½ hours before sunset. It was like Paradise after the places where we had just been. We had the bay to ourselves, and it was warm, calm and peaceful. The chef did something imaginative with some sausages, a decent bottle of wine was opened and, after all the travelling and frustration, we ended Kay's birthday in good style under a sky full of stars.

More exploration

While we were in this extreme north-west corner of Greece, we decided we should have a look at the bay at Ftelias, 5 miles along the coast from Pagania. This sits right on the Greece-Albania border, so you have to be careful to enter on the Greek side. On the Albanian side there is a Customs post, while on the Greek side the bay is full of fish-farms. You could anchor in here if necessary, but it's a bit of a mess because of the fish cages and the shanty-dwellings of the fish-farmers.

Next we visited a place we would not have looked at if we had not been told it's the best place around for prawns. Sayiadha is tucked up in the corner of the wide bay beyond Pagania. It's quite inconspicuous on our chart of the area, as it sits on a fold in the paper, and the water there is less than 5 metres deep, so at first sight it doesn't look navigable by yacht. Still, we went to see, and found that there was enough depth to float our boat, and even enough (just!) for us to get into the little harbour. It was a quaint little place, and obviously popular with the Greeks. We tried the prawns in one of the tavernas that night, and agreed that it was worth the trip.

Escapade in Plataria

Returning south to Plataria for the last time this summer, we were pleased to find the French yacht Escapade there, and shared news and a few drinks with Bernard and Martine, whom we had last seen in Kalamata in 2007.

Next to us on the quay was a yacht with some youngsters on board. They tried to befriend one of the local dogs, which they named Dave, though it didn't seem to answer to that name. P thought Suez might be a more appropriate name for a Greek dog.

Southbound

Leaving Platarias on 4 August, we returned southwards, calling at Ay Ioannis, Preveza, Vonitsa, Levkas, Palairos, Kalamos, Petalas and a couple of other anchorages, and arriving at Messolonghi on 18 August. The trip was remarkable only in that we anchored every night, just making daytime visits to a few towns to stock up with food, fuel and water. At this time of year it is too hot against a concrete quay, and sitting at anchor is much more comfortable. It also gives us some space around the boat, usually less noise, and the chance to swim off the boat. The wind continued to disappoint, and we only managed 2 hours' sailing against 38 hours of motoring.

Graham visits

They are making a new marina at Messolonghi, and if all goes well it should be a good facility. At present, though, there are just a few pontoons and a standpipe for water. Until all the facilities are up and running, visiting yachts can stay there free of charge. We decided to use it as a base when Graham visited us on 21 August. He arrived in the evening on a bus from Athens, and next day we set off for a 3-day cruise in the adjacent part of the Ionian. We spent both nights at anchor in the bay at Petalas. Again, there was little wind during the day (though there was lots in the evening), and we managed only 40 minutes' sailing in the 3 days. Still, we had a pleasant, relaxing time together, as well as some swimming, sunbathing and an enjoyable meal in a taverna on the last evening. Graham went home on 25 August, and we set about preparing to continue our journey south towards our planned winter quarters in Crete.