It’s worth reaching the end! Il vaut la peine d’ aller jusqu’ au bout! Es hat seinen Wert das Ende zu erreichen!
Det är värt att nå målet!
Valle a pena dy ir hasta et el final!
Este o mare valoare sa ajuns pina la sfirsit!
Vredi da stignes do kraja!
Du fortjener at naa langt!
Kannataa tulla loppuun asti!
E bene andare fino in fondo!
Vale a pena ir at ao fim!
Sona ulasmaya değer!
Ja vlen që té shkosh deri në fundë
СТОИТ ПОБЫВАТЬ НА САМОМ КРАЮ!
http://www.sy-thetis.org/
At 1115 and after 47.5 sea miles, but actually only 43.3, we arrived at Skala Eresou (Σκάλα Ερεσού) on Lesvos (Λέσβος) [39° 08' N 25° 55.7' E].
It is very nice, I have not been here before, and I anchored in 4 m
depth letting out 30 m of chain. I launched the dinghy and swam checking
the anchor. Then I had lunch and fell asleep in the cockpit. I was
woken up by the roar of speed boat towing squealing children on several
inflated floats. The speed boats came so close to Thetis that it was unbearable.
I was planning to spend the night here but now I decided to depart for Sigri, a few miles W from here. I was also hoping to speak to Alice on Skype but the GSM signal was only slow GPRS and not the needed 3G.
I raised the dinghy on the davits, lashing it in a different way,
hoping for an improvement. That seemed to work. I also replaced the
autopilot control unit with an older one that I had kept as a spare. I
did not connect it to the two SeaTalk cables since it has different connectors.
Shipwreck on the inhospitable shores before Sigri
We departed at 1440 and motored to Sigri, 7.8 nM away with a 15-20 knots WNW
headwind. I am beginning to think that I have a motor cruiser and not a
sailboat! The autopilot misbehaved again but less so. Maybe the SeaTalk
cables have a fault and interfere with the autopilot operation. At any
rate, the controller unit is not faulty. Along the way I saw a
shipwrecked freighter, and on the small island at the entrance of Sigri
Bay, the remains of a sailboat that ran aground many years ago. We
arrived at Sigri (Σίγρι) [39° 12.5' N 25° 51.2' E] at 1630. I anchored just S of the Castle in 6 m depth and let out 40 m of chain.
It is lovely and quiet here and there have been no changes since my last
visit 5 years ago. There was a nice breeze under the tent and it was
comfortable, not too hot. After checking the anchor and a cup of much
needed coffee I reconnected the original autopilot controller, cleaning
and tightening all of its contacts. Next passage will tell.
Once again the GSM reception was marginal. There were 2 other sailboats nearby: a Greek flagged and a German. The Greek boat left shortly after Thetis’ arrival. I had an ouzo
and removed the tent so that I can see the stars during the night. I
then roasted some potatoes in oven with just a little olive oil, garlic,
and thyme. I ate these with a few slices from the pork roast.
After admiring the stars for a while I went to bed.
The old shipwrecked S/Y at the entrance of Sigri bay.
Monday August 1, 2011, Day 5
I was woken, just before 6, by mosquitoes. I burned one of the repellent
spiral coils inside the front cabin in an attempt to discourage them
from staying there another day. I turned on the MacBook, received the e-mails, and checked the weather. It will be cooler today with a northerly breeze.
I went ashore and bought some fresh bread, a bottle of the renown Plomariouzo from Lesvos, and a MytiliniGraviera hard cheese.
Back on Thetis I called Panayiotis in Agmar Marine and discussed Thetis’ problems, especially the autopilot. I then called the lawyer in Samos who had made no progress toward solving the sewage pollution problem. Very frustrating!
I swam a great deal and read. I also washed the dinghy and in the
afternoon transferred one jerry can of fuel to the tank. I looked at the
forecasts. They are now predicting stronger winds on Wednesday. I
debated with myself whether to stick to my plan and sail to Ayios Efstratios, 44 nM from here, and then to Kyra Panayia in the Sporades
or to go directly to Kyra Panayia some 83 nM departing tonight. I was
somewhat afraid, being singlehanded, of the small harbor in Ayios
Efstratios and possible strong winds on Wednesday. At any rate I did not
want to arrive at either place late so I had to depart tonight.
The new solar panels combined with the wind generator and the 15 knot breeze, have totally replaced the 45 Ah consumed during the night.
As I was getting ready for an ouzo and while the sun was sinking, a Turkish 50" Benetau came and anchored nearby.
After a hot shower I went ashore to the Remetzo restaurant overlooking the bay. My brother Nikos favors it and when he is here with the Faneromeni
he takes a shore line to the small concrete pier just under the
restaurant. The owner, Miltos, not only remembered him but also
remembered me and Alice. I ordered their special salad with cubes of
dried bread (παξιμάδι), and 4 very nicely grilled fresh barbounia - μπαρμπούνια (red mullets - mullus surmuletus).
Next to my table sat the crew of the Turkish sailboat. A lady and a
gray haired gentleman with an impressive mustache sat at the end of a
double table. At the opposite end sat a younger man. They, too, had barbounia which they ate with great relish. We started a conversation across the tables. He is Kemal Zavaro and they had come from the Atakoy Marina in
Istanbul where they keep their boat. Soon the young man, obviously the
crew, left but the couple stayed and we continued our conversation. Then
they called the crewman with their portable VHF and he came back with their dinghy to take them on board.
Based on the forecasted strong winds I decided not to go to Ayios Efstratios but leave right away for Kyra Panayia, Kyra Panayia (Pelagos on many charts). As soon as I returned to Thetis I began my preparations. I raised the dinghy, using the new system. This turned out to be a mistake.
THE HOUSE HAS A LARGE LIVING ROOM WITH
KITCHEN - DINING ROOM, TWO BEDROOMS, ONE BATHROOM. IS FACING THE SEA (A LARGE
BALCONY THAT CONNECTS THE LIVING ROOM WITH THE BEDROOM) OVERLOOKING THE ENDLESS
AEGEAN. FULLY FURNISHED, ELECTRIC KITCHEN,
REFRIGERATOR - FREEZER, WASHING MACHINE, DISHWASHER AND ALL SMALL ELECTRICAL APPLIANCES. PARQUET FLOOR AND WOODEN CEILING.
By Justine Bothwick
The sun descends in a wash of fiery orange and pink while the sea
turns violet and lavender, laying itself out in complement to its
reflection above. A stillness falls over the bay, the air holding its
breath for what is coming next. We have just finished dinner when a few
spots of water darken the balcony floor. Looking up I see heavy clouds
are covering the stars and then the sky flashes white. The wind picks up
and thunder grumbles to the north. The spots become more frequent and
there’s barely time to bring in the drying beach towels before the storm
is upon us. Bolt after bolt of lightning thrown down from sky to sea,
Zeus and Hephaestus battling it out, animating the scene like the
flickering images of an old zoetrope. The noise is
terrifying, explosions that force the ear drum inwards while the rain
rages on. Now the bay is obscured, just a grey sheet of water, a curtain
pulled across . I know there are several sailing boats anchored out
there, somewhere: half an hour ago there’d been champagne corks and
music. I am very glad to be on land, even if the rain is now creeping
under the balcony doors and pooling in various and unexpected areas of
the apartment. The roads have turned to rivers, pouring down the slope
past our window and still there is no diminishment. Occasionally the
clouds swirl apart to reveal a pallid, gibbous moon, but she is not
invited tonight, rapidly extinguished by their dark bat wings.
Sunset from the balcony earlier in the evening
Then lightning splits the sky in two
Finally, after longer than was diverting, the storm retreats. Rolls
of thunder continue and skittering sheets of lightning still illuminate
the cloud masses, but they are being pulled apart now, and one by one
the stars return.
The next morning, the air is fresh and through the village echoes the
sound of water being swept away and neighbours comparing notes on
damage and flooding. Some hazy clouds have lingered and at the beach the
sea licks contritely at my calves as I wade along the shore.
As if the storm never happened. View from Sigri surf centre the next morning.
Later we cycle north up the coast, taking the road that leads inland
before turning east back to the sea. Here there are isolated villas with
gardens irrigated to a bright verdant green, incongruous against the
island’s otherwise terra-cotta landscape.
The Black-eared Wheatear is a common sight in Sigri
Wheatears perch on rocks and low electricity lines. Swallows careen
across an emerald field of clover, purple flowers just coming into
bloom. I stop to investigate but am distracted by a large green stick
that hops off the sprig I have plucked. I look closer and see orange
eyes and alien forked head, body designed to mimic exactly a large blade
of grass. I watch as this small, incredible creature finally tires of
my gaze and jumps back into the mass of plants: an instantly invisible
phasmid.
For a second year we are spending August in Sigri, Lesvos. This
small and sleepy fishing village lies at the end of a long road that
snakes over the spine of the island away from the port and its ferries
and cars and lorries and cargo; tourists waiting for boats in
harbourside bars and restaurants. The trip takes you through hillsides
of olive trees, some areas scarred black from scrub fires, past salt pan
waters dotted with prawn-pink flamingoes. On past the town at the
crossroads that swelters in its basin and up into the central heights
where the air is cooler and rugged stone monasteries look down like
monks in prayer from skeletal, vertiginous outcrops. The road continues
its switchback course, down over the ridge, passing a scattering of
white houses and terracotta tiled roofs. The land grows in breadth as it
opens up beyond the pass and the light reflects back from umber rocks
and the harsh ochre of dried grass and bush, inducing a mild case of
photo-sensitivity, even behind a pair of sunglasses. A new road is being
hewn into the side of the hill and the shapes of ancient, petrified
trees rise out of the dust and rubble, protected for now by a
utilitarian coating of plaster – the bones of ancient monsters exposed
by modern machinery.
Approaching Sigri
The road descends further and round a corner, finally, the bay sweeps
into view; its glittering water, inlets and coves all watched over by
the lazy, feline mound of the isle of Nissiopi opposite . At the
southern edge of the coast, on a jutting peninsula, a cluster of
buildings fall down the final slope to the small fishing harbour. The
ruins of an old Ottoman fort are sketched in carbon against a vesperal
sky. A restaurant on the sea-front is festooned with garlands of octopus
tentacles which sway in the wind above the heads of the nut-brown,
sea-weathered men who sit with a glass of ouzo in one hand and a
clicking loop of kombolói – worry beads – in the other.
The Meltemi is late this year, but here, at the edge of the village,
standing in front of a handful of tiny carmine, white and indigo boats
moored in the harbour, a breeze is kicking up heads of sea foam out
towards the horizon.
2 studios to let, at Phaneromeni beach, just a few meters from the sea. Bedroom, kitchen, wc, balcony garden and view to the sea. Per month or per year.
Contact +22530 22440, +697 8890 674, +22530 54392
I
live in the centre of Liverpool, England – home of the Beatles, two football
teams and a history of political opposition to national governments! But away
from urban living I’ve been lucky enough to be introduced to Sigri by my friend
Pat Mary who has been coming here for long periods for many years.
This
year was my fifth visit in 10 years and as ever the sun warms your skin and the
people your heart.
Highlights
for me this year were:
Inflating my tyre!!
I’m
a pathetic non swimmer but because I really envy those swimming in the tranquil
waters of the town beach among the shoals of little fishes I brought my own
adults’ swimming ring that was made to look like a tyre. But I found to my
horror it had to be inflated by machine – what could I do? A visit to Adonis with
my problem was the answer and hey presto he found a kind person to blow it up
for me. Next time I will have learned to swim honest!!
Birds – on the
way to Faneromeni, by the flat marshy bit before the little church of Prophitis
Ilias on the high mound, I saw on the same morning two egrets, two ruddy
shelducks and ... two black storks! On the way back to the airport I saw
flamingos at Kalloni.
Horses – some
magnificent stallions and mares (as well as a sweet foal) were in and around
the village this year.
Food – of course!
There was wonderful fish at all the tavernas including sea bream, sea bass and
red mullet. Local dishes such as gigantes (butter beans) and meatballs were
excellent. The souvlaki bar served not only excellent food but also, on this
visit, excellent music from visiting musicians. The church festival ended with
a buffet and many plates of homemade savouries and pastries were pressed upon
us. Every day brought pies and tasty breads from the bakery; locally grown
plums, peaches, and vegetables of all kinds from the green grocer and everything
you could ever need from Georgia’s shop. Last but not least an invitation to a
local home for coffee introduced us to homemade preserved figs in syrup, peach
kernel liquor and melt in the mouth cake.
Petrified Forest– I have to go to the
Petrified Forest Museum every time I come to Sigri as it is truly unique and
amazing. The staff are always helpful and eager to answer any queries. On this
visit Spiros, taking me back to Mytilene by taxi, explained that the women I
saw working with the road-widening crew were specialists there to identify any
new petrified trees emerging from the rock. Indeed he stopped and showed me
where two tree trunks had been found and could be seen quite clearly.
I
only stayed for 10 days but all this happened and I know I will have forgotten
some things.
What
can I say? The Beatles say it for me below (and by the way the font is from a
charity for homeless people in Spain and has been formed from their writing on
street placards http://www.homelessfonts.org/buy/)
There
are places I remember (Beatles, lyrics Paul McCartney)
Steph
Petrie
