Sail, wind and salziki

Up and down the islands

 

Friday 28 May 1999 - Arrival in Athens.
We left Rome with the usual anxiety of work left to itself and many things left open and thus easily vulnerable.
But already when it was flying over Corfu vanished. On Aegina, in view of Athens airport, there was only the harbinger of this beautiful days of sea, sun and islands.
Stay at Amazonen (tel. 3234002-3-4) at the edge of Plaka. A small hotel, but in order and also cheap. From there you can walk to every corner dell'Atene that interests us.
We go around looking for a good camera for Marzia. Holidays in Greece are not without these images to collect back. Turn along the shops and collect information for a good choice.
Dinner is in the middle of Plaka at the usual restaurant where the waiter recognized us immediately.

Saturday, May 29-Athens.
I wake up in the psalmody that rises from below. Marzia still asleep. I dress and go down, eager to discover the origin.
A small, tiny Orthodox church stands under the portico of the palace office which is located in front of our hotel. E 'un po' aslant with respect to the row of pillars, to testify that it was built when the axis of the street was different. Poor church overwhelmed by time, sterile rincattucciata between arms of concrete, despite its protected from the rain that can not, however, washing away the gray dust of the city.
E 'by the small door that looks across the junction leaving the hand, which now reminds me of a Marian litany.
Within. The nave is profound, perhaps, five meters and is occupied by a dozen of the faithful spread over four rows, two on each side. In the middle a narrow passage to reach the back wall full of icons of which opens a gate closed by a white tent. In front of the icons, are collected in prayer, some women who are continuously marked with fast, tight gestures. Joined in the fingers so that it is used in Italy to say "you want?" Quickly beat the face, chest and right shoulder, and then the left, and again the front .... and so on for three or four times.
The same sign of the cross is repeated by all the faithful, sometimes together, sometimes individually
without a sense understandable.
Meanwhile, the continuous psalmody, in greek. It seems to me almost to understand it, the greek and instead is just an illusion. Only a few Kyrie eleison draws deceive me, the rest is ... turkish.
Suddenly the white curtain that hides the tabernacle is opened and the pope appears. This is a young priest, bearded rigorously, which diverge after the curtains turn to the altar and then on the right disappears, reappears, disappears on the left, in a series of actions absolutely incomprehensible. Then turns to the faithful (I was going to say to the public) and begins to sing along with them. After a little retreats in the sancta sanctorum and close the tent. What will stay doing? Reappears when another character is a black, tall cylindrical headgear, with two stripes down the side to life, they do seem high and impressive. He holds a golden pyx whose handle is wrapped in a red cloth. Comes close to him a woman. She takes in hand the tip of the hanging cloth. The pope extract with a tablespoon of paste something from pyx and introduces him into the open mouth of the faithful. It 'a symbolic communion, ie no more you communicate, and the priest retires again among its secret behind the white tent.
While I see all this come continually disturbed by a continual coming and going of the faithful closer to entry. Those listed below are patiently waiting for something. Those who come away with me to gently take one of those thin, dark candles lying on a seats to my left. Once you have placed 50 or 100 drachmas into the slot of a Bussolotti l 'ignite and put in a sand tray of brass supported by a tripod along. Accomplished all this haste mark several times, kiss an icon of Santa Dinamo (Dynamo Aghia) and leave again at the church. Every so often a woman comes close to the tripod extinguished candles and remove the sand. Then, with a wad of cotton soaked in alcohol, wash the glass of the icon.
Santa's next to a table on which are placed small pieces of paper as big as a postcard. Some of you write something over and giving the woman of candles. My curiosity is growing.
But the pope is that?
Here it is again up from his hiding place. He holds a bundle of sheets and other leads him, without delay, the attendant. Now starting to read quickly with a Cantilena that recalls the young ladies of the central taxi. I understand that these names. Most applicants are Nikolaus and Spiros, but also feel a 'Aristea, the name of my grandmother, and many ... os and ... au.
And then I understand that this is a recurrence of the dead.
After reading some of the movement is to predict the conclusion of the ceremony. The priest turns his gaze and land at the foot of the wall that divides the nave from the altar room and, stretching his neck to see too, I see a lot of pots and containers of sweets. These cakes frosted white surface on which it is drawn a cross, made of confetti, also white or silver. After some frenetic crosses women gather each had their own pot and leave everyone on the street. Here you turn to a tender offer to onlookers filled plastic cups of the contents of the pots. It is a mixture of powder sugar, cocoa, raisins, chopped almonds, and more, with few variations between production and the next. There are more fresh tasting, even if the supply of food extends to the passersby, some of them stop to eat. At this point, after having thanked by scholars efkaristò, back to my hotel followed by a stretch of offers hopes of pious women.
Retrospect suspected to have engaged in a sort of communion with the deceased symbolically eat his ashes.
I have occasion to read, then, that in ancient Greece times Nicia (420 BC), these men very rich and bigoted, "to any of his family died he dedicated a special ceremony, invoking the name for each of them to every morsel that swallowed: many deaths, so many pieces, many deaths, so many Gozzano. Rather ate even with a tablet in front of the eyes, which were written the names of all his ancestors, not to forget anyone, and, as they will honor one and erased the name under plaster, in Rutta sign of allegiance, and commanded a different scope. " (History of Greek I. Montanelli).
Marzia. Meanwhile, it has been awakened and are prepared to complete the purchase of the camera.
Buy a car with super-slow "crystal ball" and not plastic, as it tells the astute trader. Marzia is happy. It was nicknamed "The Girls" and the cradle in her arms. We decide to climb on Licabetto to make the first photos of Athens in 1999.
Piraeus at 17.30 to take the ferry to Samos.

Sunday May 30. Kusadasi
After a quiet night, spent in a cabin with panoramic view on the Cyclades lit by full moon, we arrive at 7.30 am at the port of Samos. Just in time for the tickets and embark on Kusadasi.
Gattadapelare ahead on its flooded, apparently in place. Spend the day at work to develop our boat.

Monday, May 31. Kusadasi,
Adjust the accounts with the Navy, buy a new battery., We verify the proper functioning of the electrical (which is wiped out) and do a minimum of caboose. We have a great desire to leave. Kusadasi has become tired. It seems that should not let ourselves go. Even if the people we meet are always friendly and helpful, there is something that disturbs our relations. E 'in the process to Ocelan. A merchant refused to sell a stock because "the Italians are terrorists." E 'la prima volta che mi sento judged differently by clichés
"Italians good people". I understand now as an American is to feel around for the East.

Tuesday 1 June. From Kusadasi to Posidonio (Samos) 20 miles.
Finally! The boat is in water. We do the tests on the new engine (a Nanni Kubota 38 HP). Everything OK. Gattadapelare has become a speedboat. It starts at 14.00. Heavy seas with no wind. We put the bow towards the south-east of Samos with the intention of arriving at Arki, an island a little note that is part of a small archipelago between Samos and Patmos. The wind finally rises that we are entrance to the strait between Samos and Turkey. Let us raise the Greek flag courtesy. (But we must recognize that Turkey is more beautiful). Now filiamo great. We shall see below the Greek and, immediately after the blade tip, a bay with three boats to the wheel, but we are too quick to take a decision, are 18.00 and there is still sunshine. After several miles you will notice that they still arrive too late to Arki. Still missing 25 miles. We decide to go back to the small bay glimpsed before. And it is a good choice because moored on the bottom three meters to a hundred meters from the shore where there are some tavernas and a small hotel. Descend to the ground with the tender, rowing (the motor does not want to learn to put himself in motion), and directly to the anchor desk of the tavern. The place we like.
In Greece, we feel at home. The phrase that is repeated several times a day by the maids, the taxi driver, the shopkeeper, or from passing that we have requested an "Italian", the same face the same race, "is profoundly true. The waiters are to serve four, but they feel more sympathy that piaggèria. We know the owner, who married un'italiana, Rossana. All you try to find a blacksmith who could settle the detention of bronze Flares. Without that we will have to do all the maneuvers by hand. On site there is no tomorrow and Rossana will accompany us with his car in Samos town.

Wednesday, June 2-Posidonio
The day is beautiful and bright. Rossana, simpaticissimo Sicilian Samos, Samos to us-Town to a workshop that promises to let us have the piece repaired by tomorrow morning at 9:00.
Spend the rest of the day idle. I discover that the nearby town (port and airport) Pythagoras, ca. 5 miles from here, was the birthplace of Pythagoras. Here, in 580 a.C. was born the great mathematician, and pallosissimo individual, who has over the years Sollazzo youth with the square and the famous dell'ipotenusa table. Hence, in disagreement with the tyrant Policriti, moved to Crotone where asphyxia with its philosophy of life (austerity, no wine, no sex, no eggs, meat and beans) its inhabitants, who, at the end, the made out. Nobody knows (but now there is someone more) that Pythagoras was the first to formulate a theory that the earth was round and was part of the cosmos.
In the evening, with a tender in full efficiency (lilies obstructed) descend to the tavern where special evenings with Greek music and dances. So spend this day, the sound of sirtaki.

Thursday, June 3 - From the island of Marathi Posidonio (Arki). 22 miles.
Of course the piece is not ready. Rossana us the pharmacy of the port of Samos where Marzia buy an antiallergic. Erythema has an orgy. To hide even buy socks of cotton (gloves not find it) which, when cut, will serve as mezzemaniche. Effect: the lepers of Calcutta. We return with a taxi because our guest has to do some commissions. We have our own firm of Flares and Sailing at 12.00. Immediately we meet our Venturi-effect and filiamo at 7-8 knots under the thrust of a discrete Meltemi. The sea is covered with white and we are taking in ochette. It 'a pleasure to hear the boat split the waves with the rustling of freedom on the mainland. Proceed to beat large-see approach and the archipelago of Lipsi and Arki where it belongs. We do not know much of this island which is described on portolano in a couple of rows, and proceed with caution at depths unknown. We know that it is sparsely populated (40 inhabitants fixed), but we do not see any construction on the ground. On our side should be a couple of anchors well shelter. We follow a boat that tries, like us, a bay in which the decline again for the night. But the place we do not like. The wind is tense and there are rocks to leeward. It was decided to Dirge to a small island 2 miles away that upper hand, should repair most of Meltemi. From where we see trees of three boats to the wheel. The decision is proving successful because Marathi (MARAFI, so the island is called) offers a

dozen dead bodies at the disposal of the guests, a small pier invites us to go down. We know Michael well, the landlord pirate-owner, along with brother "Geronimo" and the sister of YAROTABERNA ENOIKIAZONEMA DWMATIA (as it is written on postcards. Phone: 0030-0247-31580/32795). This is a simple tavern on the shore of the sea consists of two rooms and five tables. Not far away is a building with two floors with five rooms floor which is accessed via a balcony suffocated by bougainvillea. The other construction of the inn is a family-run of some fifteen rooms. The population is about fifty goats and five people.
Among these shows, but not for its height, the figure of Mikelis. Apparent age forty, small, dark, thin, long hair hidden in a handkerchief knotted pirate, beard and mustache adequate, deep eyes and shy. Mikelis is short, and after taking the best-known tells the story of his life. This is not a particular story, but significant. In 13 years on the fleeing boat of a fisherman on the island prison where his family lived for generations. He wants to know the world. Makes the sailor, around all the seas and knows all the continents. He decides to come back to that little strip of land which you cross in one quarter of an hour. It tells of when, children, remava for an hour to reach Arki where there was the only school of its surroundings, and the village of their parents, up there next to the blue dome of the chapel. Today there still remain only ruins the walls of a few stone houses, goats shelter from the summer heat wave. Michele after seeing the world has discovered that even the rock of a small island can be as large as the world. At a small dinner crowd occupies the few tables in the tavern there is Davros, the fisherman, Hans and Inge Swiss in Basel, an Austrian skipper with some customers of unknown nationality, a pair of Americans, and us. Meanwhile, the wind dropped and the night is full moon.

Venerdì 4 giugno. Marathi
Ci svegliamo presto per cogliere la luce migliore per fotografare la piccola chiesetta dalla cupola blu

La giornata è bellissima. Niente vento e niente afa. Pressione a 1039.
Dall'altro lato dell'isola il mare è ancora più azzurro. Scegliamo degli scogli piatti che scivolano nell' azzurro per fare un lungo bagno. A vista non si scorge alcuna presenza umana. Trascorriamo così la mattinata. Da un cespuglio rubo un uovo ad una gallina. Gli faccio un buco ad ogni estremità con uno spino e lo bevo golosamente. Non so da quanti anni non ho più fatto una cosa così. Suggere con forza la chiara dell'uovo, sentire improvviso il sapore dolce del tuorlo che termina con il risucchio dell'aria che entra dall'altro forellino, tutto mi fa tornare alla mia infanzia, ai ricordi di estati trascorse in villeggiatura in un paesino dell'Umbria.

Mikelis ci prepara un'insalata greca. Torniamo alla barca e mi dedico alla pesca con la canna usando la mollica di pane come esca. Il successo è entusiasmante. Erano anni che non pescavo tanto. Una quindicina di saraghi di dimensioni accettabili ed alcune vope vanno a finire nel nostro frigo-boat.
Si cena con aragosta e si balla il sirtaki.

Sabato 5 giugno. Da Marathi a Patmos. 15 miglia
Il barometro segna 1040. Anche questa giornata si presenta calma e luminosa. Dopo colazione alla taverna salutiamo Michele, la sua secca sorella ed il fratello dalla faccia di indiano. Tavros, il pescatore ci regala tre grossi sgombri che si vanno ad aggiungere al mio pescato.
Dirigiamo sul Arki per dare un'occhiata alla sua costa e poi ad una baia che ci è stata indicata come "laguna blu". Qui l'acqua è veramente di questo colore. Facciamo un paio di tuffi indimenticabili.
Alle 14.00 dirigiamo su Patmos che è quasi nascosta nella foschia da beltempo. Procediamo a motore tra isole e isolotti fino a lasciare alle nostre spalle il piccolo arcipelago. Patmos, dice la legenda, giaceva sul fondo del mare quando, illuminata da un raggio di luna, fu vista da Diana la quale chiese a Poseidon di farla emergere. Così ci appare, via via che ci avviciniamo, bella come agli occhi della Dea. La nostra meta è una insenatura in cui dovrebbe trovarsi un cantiere navale che, su indicazione dello skipper austriaco, può rimessare a secco la nostra barca. Facciamo un giro di ricognizione ed effettivamente vediamo tra gli ulivi gli alberi di alcune barche; ma nessuna traccia di bacini di alaggio.
Alle 17.00 ci mettiamo in rada a Grikos, un villaggio a sud del porto principale dell'isola, che si affaccia su una deliziosa baia.
A terra prendiamo dei motorini a noleggio per andare a visitare Chora, il paesino arroccato intorno al Monastero dedicato a Giovanni Evangelista. E si, perché S.Giovanni qui ha avuto la visione dell'Apocalisse e in 18 mesi ha scritto quel popò di previsione che ha la sua massima minaccia in "mille e non più mille". Sarà, ma il pensiero va inquietante alla notte si S.Sivestro prossima ventura.

Il monastero (costruito nel 1080) è in pietra lavica, severo e grigio. Intorno ad esso sorsero prima le casette degli operai e successivamente quelle dei contadini che cercavano qui conforto dagli attacchi dei pirati. Le case sono rigorosamente bianche candide e fanno un notevole contrasto con la mole del castello. Il candore di Chora lo si vede da miglia e miglia di distanza e Patmos è quasi un faro nell'Egeo. Al ristorante Vangelis conosciamo uno svizzero che ci raccomanda di andare a visitare l'isolotto disabitato di Aspromisis, prossimo a Lispi. Dice che è un'isola caraibica. Ormai, per questa volta, è andata, ma ci ripromettiamo di andarci ad ottobre. Dall'alto di Chora lo sguardo spazia si tutta l'isola. Sembra ritagliata da un bambino fantasioso in foglio di carta blu. E' un susseguirsi di insenature, baie, spiaggette con un effetto spettacolare difficilmente paragonabile.
Scendiamo a Skala, capitale dell'isola e porto turistico. La cittadina ci piace subito. Sorge su di un istmo e non è molto turisticizzata. Incontriamo Tavros, il pescatore. Possiede qui una pescheria in società e ci rimedia una guarnizione per riparare il nostro cesso che è in avaria. Facciamo un poco di spesa, compresi altri rullini fotografici. Marzia spara fotografie come un ceceno il kalaschinov.
Si cena in barca con il nostro pesce alla brace. Non riusciamo a mangiarlo tutto.

Domenica 6 giugno. Da Patmos a Livathi. 20 miglia
Il barometro segna 1040. Andiamo con i motorini al cantiere per dare un'occhiata se è il caso di lasciare qui Gattadapelare fino ad ottobre. Ma è Domenica e non possiamo entrare, tuttavia vediamo alcune barche di stazza maggiore della nostra, ordinatamente allineate. Sembra a posto. Gatta trascorrerà qui l'estate. Ne approfitterò per far fare quei lavori di riparazione che ancora mancano.
Torniamo a Skala per un aperitivo ed anche perché alle 10.00 abbiamo appuntamento con Tavros per telefonare al suo amico Sozon (il proprietario del cantiere).
A mezzogiorno meno cinque siamo davanti alla grotta in cui l'apocalittico Giovanni ebbe l'ispirazione. Un pope altrettanto apocalittico ci avvisa che abbiamo solo cinque minuti, poi...!!
Alle 15.00 salpiamo l'ancora e ci dirigiamo sull'isola di Levathi. Il vento di nord-ovest è ottimo: 10-12 nodi. Filiamo rapidamente in un mare bianco di ochette lasciando la visione di Chora alle nostre spalle. Alle 19.00 raggiungiamo la profonda insenatura a sud-est di Levathi.

L'isola è indicata come deserta, salvo una taverna aperta stagionalmente. Buon riparo per il meltemi. In effetti il vento è andato sempre rafforzando ed entriamo contenti di aver raggiunto un riparo per la notte. Scopriamo di non essere soli. Altre quattro barche ci hanno preceduto. Tra queste una batte bandiera italiana.
Non si vede alcuna casa. Solo un cartello a riva indica una improbabile taverna nell'interno.
Lasciata la barca con un po' di perplessità per via del vento in aumento (per prudenza ho calato un'ancora guardiana con 15 metri di cima su un fondo di 5) risaliamo l'interno per un viottolo sassoso appena tracciato tra le pietre. Incomincia a fare buio. Quando dopo dieci minuti raggiungiamo la taverna scopriamo che si tratta in realtà di una serie di basse costruzioni poste casualmente intorno ad una corte.
C'è anche un pergolato con un tavolo ed una diecina di seggiole. Gli italiani (poco socievoli) se ne stanno andando e restiamo soli. Il vento soffia nel pergolato. Compare l'oste, o meglio gli osti. Sono tre fratelli tra i venti ed i trent'anni che ci preparano pesce alla griglia e insalata greca. Naturalmente il tutto annaffiato di retsina. Facciamo così la conoscenza di questi giovani metà pastori e metà pescatori, la cui famiglia abita quest'isola da 300 anni. Sono, assieme ai genitori, gli unici abitanti dell'isola. Ma scopriamo che la loro vita è molto varia ed il loro livello culturale ben più alto di molti ragazzi di città. Il più grande, sposato (ma la moglie vive a Patmos dove lui si reca frequentemente a portare il pescato) si chiama Tavros (anche lui! Che sia il nome dei pescatori da queste parti ?). Attraverso Marzia, che fa da interprete, parliamo di mare, di vento, di politica e di guerra. Il mediano è addetto al barbecue. E' piuttosto burbero e di poche parole. Il più piccolo si lamenta che è difficile trovare una ragazza disposta a vivere la maggior parte dell'anno sull'isola. Si illumina tutto di speranza quando Marzia si meraviglia perché lei -dice- su quest'isola ci verrebbe a vivere (si dimentica di dire: durante le vacanze).
Torniamo alla barca sotto un cielo straordinariamente stellato. Nessuna luce offusca quella delle stelle. Riconosciamo Vega, le Pleiadi, il Drago, Arturo, e,

Monday, June 7. Levitha.
The barometer mark 1040, the sky is clear and a nice wind blowing. 10.00 Towards the gusts in the masthead go to 12-15 knots which means at least 20-25 outside. We sowing and bring a top to the ground. It helps us in this Tavros and his brother. Since we have the top 50 meters of floating them to take advantage afforcarci. A good idea because the wind rotates from north to north-west and alternately through both the peaks are employed. The other boats left this morning and we riamasti two. By far the boat safely descend to earth to explore the island

Our goal is the hill overlooking the sea where there Tavros said, there are remains of a Castro. And there are actually leftovers from the walls of a building (temple or castro not understand) the size of the stones could be of Mycenaean era. Had to occupy at least fifty meters per side. Many pieces are hiding among the rocks up to nearly the bottom of the hill. The building dominated the south (the leeward where our creek) and could control the movement of all vessels that arrived or departed. Given the size of (3-4 km long and 2-3 wide) of its strategic importance could only be that of the well-protected refuge from the wind that offers its southern coast.
We meet only goats and sheep in our wander among the stones and the wind disrupt our hair (my un po 'meno). So spend the day in splendid solitude. We discover a stone in the courtyard of the house / tavern on the perpendicular to which there is scope for our phones. Ne advantage, balancing on the stone, making phone calls at home or office.
Protect the process.
Dinner is again by the brothers. Lamb scottadito. Well done. During the night we hear the Meltemi blowing high, but we decided to start tomorrow, although Tavros shakes his head.

Tuesday, June 8. Levitha.
Barometer always high, always serene sky, the wind always tense. 9.00 let their moorings and try to start, but just off the tip of straoziamo west, taking in twice and decide to return. Spend this day wandering among the rocks on the island and take photographs and minor repairs to the boat. I begin to feel like Odysseus on Ogigia. Except that here there Calipso.

Wednesday, June 9. From Levitha a Denoussa. 23 miles.
The wind seems decreased. 1039 marks the barometer. We decide to leave because the clock is ticking and the day after we meet with Constantin in Paros and Saturday with Marcus to Myconos.
Route 298 ° for almost north-west. We hope to make a good question before the wind, and night and this morning always blows from the north, turn north-west. Mollia at 10.00 and with a wind at 10 knots on head Roussa Bay, a small and poor fishing village on the coast of south-east of the island. In a passage between the rock Levitha Mavro to spend on a dry 16 meters. The long wave reduce wind yesterday, here is impressive.

We are impressed by the sea and cross-threatening. Turn the engine, to be sure. Pass the dry sail quiet until 14:00. Then the wind turns and reinforces to 15 knots with gusts to 18. On the nose. Heavy seas, engine to 2000 rpm (it is still running) and spray in the face. 18.30 we are close to goal. According to our portolano of Anglès and Magni come straight from the south means going to the rocks. The landing is required to enter the passage that opens to the east between a rock and the island. But when we reach the entrance of this channel we are no longer convinced that the council is right. The passage is narrow, the coasts and high overhead and the sea behind us. With a lot of tension and the engine to 3,000 revolutions go further and finally we enter the harbor, under the puzzled looks of the crews of two boats that have not understood the strange maneuver. Indeed, direct access is free from hazards. Appennelliamo anchor. The gusts are so strong to prevent us from fall to earth. The battellino we fly down on himself. Unable to take it on board. The lego with a second top and do well. Discover the next morning that one of the two peaks is broken. Throughout the night the gusts of wind make us friends. We often wake up to see if ariamo, but the two anchors hold well. I decide that in future I will always like this: the still of the service (a CQR) was followed by two and a half meters away from a piece of chain around a meter which is linked to a Danfort compliance.

Thursday, June 10. From a Denoussa Naousa (Paros). 31.5 miles.
The barometer, which had dropped to 1037 it rose again in 1040. I am convinced that if it falls a little sign of a reduction in the Meltemi. Instead Gagliardo blows. Leave without regrets the passing bay to the south. To direct on Paros we dub the northern tip of Naxos which means 20 miles to sail with the wind almost head. Are formed very soon in order. Gattadapelare often remains suspended in mid-crest of the first to plunge into cable format that follows, with much noise, vibration and sketches. Finally dubbed Naxos and extend our route. Now we have the wind and waves downwind and the wind at 8-10 knots. We are taking in and proceed to the great. Enter the bay of Naousa and head of the harbor. Futile attempt, we saw many boats in the area of the wheel to leeward of the bay to understand that there is no place in port, but hope to go down easily on land, after many days of berths to the wheel has made us believe in miracles. We go we take refuge in the north-west of the bay. The place is nice. About thirty boats, almost all under sail, you are comfortably on its still a hundred meters from shore at depths of 3 meters of sand.

We are very wide of each other, not to give us absolutely annoying. Descend to the ground where there is a nice beach and where to take an aperitif bar. Then take advantage of the showers (finally!)
The British give us a ride in a city where rent two scooters.
Naousa is very nice, though many overlooking the sea where many cafes and restaurants allow you to spend pleasant ore.Purtroppo already plenty of tourists in June, and we must get
Evening we return to our boat awaits us across the bay. The night is serene and no wind ..

Friday June 11. Naousa.
At 8:00 call Cocò (aka Constantin), which warns us to be landed. We give instruction on how to reach us and, indeed, there it is there at 9:00 on the shore that radius to be coming to take. The poor had spent the night in white at Athens, but to us it matters little. The force immediately starting with motorbikes in search of a 'Mycenaean acropolis of age which should be nearby. Ask a farmer who shows us a hill. They try to climb, but our shoes are not suitable, so I Marzia and desist, and Constantin reaches the victorious esplanade. Told that there was no rest to see archaeological, which consoles us a little '.

Cocò teaches us a recipe for breakfast: yoghurt (strictly greek), honey and lemon juice. The chairs of a coffee desert Naousa, on the shore of the sea, we do this. Excellent! We agree with Marzia Contantin that has done well to come with us in Greece. Marcus we call that has come to Myconos. The urge to be careful. L 'isola enjoys fame equivocal, but clear ..
We do supply of cash to Paroikia, the main town of Paros 15 km from Naousa and 2 from the airport and return to Naousa where he spent the day between photographs and coffee.
In the evening dinner on the pier of a small port of fishermen. Much folklore. Our heads hang festoons of dried in the octopus. In front of us the sun sets behind the old Venetian strong. Before going to bed again we see the stars.

Saturday June 12. From 'island of Paros, the island of Mykonos. 21 miles.
We wake up with a day of calm. Constantin expresses his pleasure by Bavarian moldy and frustrated by the morning dip in unbelievably clear. Scream with joy.
The barometer is at 1040. After diesel (75 lt.) And water (400 DR), and 10.30 per head 10 °. The wind is weak and proceed only on the engine.
Advantage of the calm to make beautiful boat. Blanket, candles, teak, compass, everything is rubbed and polished. Constantin is charged tranship working hard. L 'island of Mykonos is approached slowly. To the left stretches Delos, the 'floating island on which Apollo and Diana were born. From that moment she gazed at the bottom of the sea and became famous. And 'the goal of our trip tomorrow. It is not allowed to arrive with their own boat and there are ferries that depart from the appropriate Mykonos port several times a day.
In the Strait between the islands the wind strengthens and puts the bow.
14.30 run at the top of Marcus that awaits us on the pier. Twenty-five meters of chain in the direction of the wind on a depth of five meters. Of course appennellata yet.
A stroll through the streets of the country make us understand why it is so famous. Behind every corner you find glimpses that we must bring home. Most of the postcards that are sold in the Aegean depicts angles of Mykonos or Santorini. The "Girls" works in full and Marzia is repeatedly mistaken for a professional photographer.

It is very hot and we look for a beach where refreshments, but we have no luck. The only show that seems welcoming by polluted balls of fat floating in the waves. And 'the result of the' pollution trattoria. " The whole country is a unique restaurant where the evening is filled with thousands of people, of uncertain sex, under the ironic gaze of the three pelicans adopted by the islanders for decades.
Dinner and we also look at our neighbors table. There's all kinds. We have a little peace of Marzia with us, his presence normalizes the group, which otherwise might seem too ambiguous.
Upon returning to the boat we find that a huge ferry is still on our perpendicular to us.
The wind in the meantime has increased and the amount of the ferry there is a venturi tube. We are forced to put a top of the beam from bow to pier. Once again I am glad of my top float 50 meters. I have the opportunity to expand as the angle of draft and provide better wind resistance.

Sunday June 13. Mikonos.
Unfortunately, today we are the European elections and the ferry are still Delo. We must re starting tomorrow to arrive in time to the rendez-vous with Elke and Gerlinde in Samos. Marzia is also started. The day after tomorrow at 7:30 waiting for the plane to Athens in the Thai report to work. He decided to go to Athens tomorrow morning with the plane of 5:30 and spend the day on 'Acropolis to take pictures.
By Constantin witnessing a funeral commemoration in the church. Even here, in the end, there is the distribution of a dusty cake and sandwiches with over a funereal black cross. We bring this breakfast Marcus, remained berth, which, inexplicably, the declines.
Spend the rest of the day strolling through the streets of Milkonos, photographing and observing people. Regret the Levitha solitude and simplicity of Marathi.

Monday, June 14. From Mykonos to Kirikos (Island of Icaria) 55 miles.
With a levataccia to 4.00pm Marzia leaves us. The taxi to the airport that accompanies it is half an hour from here. A new ferry is our yet, but they told us that start at 9.00. Do look at the barometer: 1038 marks. The Meltemi blows cheerful and the sea is white ochette. I go back and look berth in the hour of departure.
At 9.45, finally free of the wing again, we are starting with one hand and a half of reefing. Wind behind until abeam of Cape Prasonissa, tip of the south-west, then head east towards the island of Icaria, made famous from landing wasteful of Icarus. (For the record: Icarus, escaped from Crete with his father Dedalo, which was built with wax and feathers, two wings to leave the maze, the prison of Minos. Too close to the sun broke up the wax and Icarus fell).
Our portolano is limited to the Cyclades, and some we did not know if we will find a port in the location you have chosen: Kirikos. Recently the island of Mykonos Meltemi we begin to discover a row of spray and sbandati until hawks. Marcus is a little help, un po 'di mal di mare does lie in the well. On the western tip of the wind strengthens Icaria on 20 knots.
We are deviating a few miles of the island, which is very high on the sea, because we fear the gusts coming from the mountains. Unfortunately we are not so subject to a longer format and sea we continually wet.

Begins to cool and the uncertainty of a Member State of the weight we travel. On our side, away on the edge of the horizon, you see the white Chora.
Finally at 18.30 we see a jetty that stretches into the sea in front of a village. This is Kirikos. The port exists. All'inglese berths at 19.15 on Moletto leeward, the one on which you can moor. Besides us there is a boat flying the Swiss flag and a barge with some German tourists. Pulling a sigh of relief. Better than so could not go. Right at that moment, (we are about to go looking for a restaurant) is approaching a greek gesticolante beginning to melt
the mooring ropes. Oppose little resistance and later called the 'energumeno, a military Capitaneria we please move because the place is reserved for a boat tour.
A heavy heart we move and, from English, moored on the Pier Head where there is a wave of strong undertow and annoying. But we must

Tuesday, June 15. From Icaria to Samos (Posidonio). 41 miles.
Bacon and eggs for breakfast, and departure at 10.00. The barometer marks 1035, the lowest since the start of the cruise. But this is only my theory that if you lower the pressure decreases, the Meltemi is not true. The weather is beautiful and tonight he felt the \ wind blowing in the masthead. Now it fell on the waves and fly. On the tip of Samos, as usual, the wind strengthens and reaches the beam. GPS sale from 8 to 9 and then at 9.5, 9.7, 9.9 e. ..... Oplà 10 knots. Gattadapelare looks like a speedboat. We lack a little with its 7 tonnes not make planar.
In the Strait between Samos and Turkey, we jump to wind gusts and sudden drops exciting.
At 17:20 we arrive at the tavern of Posidonio.
The arrival of Elke and Gerlinde is scheduled for 19.00. We booked an apartment for them by Rossana not yet inhabited. The building is so new that only the ground floor is completed. Marcus goes to run.

Finally, in taxis, the ladies arrive.

The post is to their liking, the suite welcome (they were certain of having to sleep in bunk, last night), the table on the shore of the sea is appreciated. (Fish Tavern and Studios F.lli Kerkezos. Ph. 0030-0273-22267)
Dinner plate with mixed grilled fish. Rossana's husband is a compliment for us the choice of menu. I have seen bear hands while away. Are establishing a new fund which, however, it dries up immediately. Gerlinde is appointed cashier, with barely Cocò of disappointment that he had three days (with suspicion of illicit enrichment and shortages are) administered the previous case.
The place is so nice that we decide to stay tomorrow.

Wednesday, June 16. Posidonio.
Constantin and I play tennis while the rest of the crew sleeps failure. Are 8.00. A day of sunshine and no wind. After breakfast we spend the hours on the beach to laze in the deck chair, served by a waiter of tavern.


A day without a history, but quite relaxed. At least for some of us. Indeed, Marcus and boosting self-respect of Cocò, he manages to involve it in a race of endurance. The hub of Gattadapelare back accusing a muscle tear. In the evening's performance of sirtaki. The local pirate (each port has one, here in the Aegean) performs along with some tourists.

Thursday, June 17. From a Marathi Posidonio (Arki). 22 miles.

We start at 10.00 with the barometer which marks 1037th There is no breath of wind. We are now certain that the ladies have made a pact with Neptune. To deceive the time engaged in maritime issues. Elke is unsurpassed in the junction plane from Fender and Gerlinde in gasse d'amante.
At 14.00 we are at the blue lagoon. Also this is to the liking of the crew and we stop for lunch and make diving and swimming gluttonous. 17:00 arrive in Marathi. Mikelis, says his sister, is in hypnosis. We understand that sleeps.
Marathi is how we left with Marzia. The same atmosphere of suspended time. They feel only the bells of goats and hens cluck

Unfortunately, Mike has no lobsters today, and we proposed to wait until tomorrow evening. I gladly accept this setback. In rada there are three other boats, but crews do not fall to the ground. Even today the Lord is good, take a room in hotel "in Mikelis. It 'simple, but new and comfortable.



Friday June 18. Marathi.
We do serve breakfast from Mikelis based egg and coffee while observing the two children of six to seven years (grandchildren Mike?) Playing with a lot of expertise with a rowing boat. Will be experienced by great men of the sea
Spend the morning on the west coast of the island where the sea is of a particular blue.
Marcus has been studying the tavern. Gerlinde, swamps English lady from the beginning of the century, together with lumachelle of sea water up to the knees, while Elke ranocchieggia below Constantin wanders along the cliff also a "hunting" of snails. The skipper says everything and then transmit it to posterity.
Collect snails to sea in large quantities for the pasta sauce tonight.

Again, this comes as a day of relaxing .. With your feet wet by the tide that rises, the head in the shade of the tamarisk, the breeze that caresses the skin crushing spend the afternoon nap on a beach east of the shore, where one faces the tavern.
Then I put to fish, again with great success. At sunset, in the well, and slowly we see the arrival of a German boat, sipping ouzo with ice (produced, the ice. Finally after three years I was put into operation mini-boat).
The dinner menu includes Mikelis by: spaghetti with the skipper lumachelle (cooked al dente by me), grilled lobster gently, Greek salad, retsina of the house.
Under a starry sky, there always let Marcus, Constantin and I, in berth, Gerlinde and Elke to "hotel".

Tuesday, June 15. From Icaria to Samos (Posidonio). 41 miles.
Bacon and eggs for breakfast, and departure at 10.00. The barometer marks 1035, the lowest since the start of the cruise. But this is only my theory that if you lower the pressure decreases, the Meltemi is not true. The weather is beautiful and tonight he felt the \ wind blowing in the masthead. Now it fell on the waves and fly. On the tip of Samos, as usual, the wind strengthens and reaches the beam. GPS sale from 8 to 9 and then at 9.5, 9.7, 9.9 e. ..... Oplà 10 knots. Gattadapelare looks like a speedboat. We lack a little with its 7 tonnes not make planar.
In the Strait between Samos and Turkey, we jump to wind gusts and sudden drops exciting.
At 17:20 we arrive at the tavern of Posidonio.
The arrival of Elke and Gerlinde is scheduled for 19.00. We booked an apartment for them by Rossana not yet inhabited. The building is so new that only the ground floor is completed. Marcus goes to run.

Finally, in taxis, the ladies arrive.

The post is to their liking, the suite welcome (they were certain of having to sleep in bunk, last night), the table on the shore of the sea is appreciated. (Fish Tavern and Studios F.lli Kerkezos. Ph. 0030-0273-22267)
Dinner plate with mixed grilled fish. Rossana's husband is a compliment for us the choice of menu. I have seen bear hands while away. Are establishing a new fund which, however, it dries up immediately. Gerlinde is appointed cashier, with barely Cocò of disappointment that he had three days (with suspicion of illicit enrichment and shortages are) administered the previous case.
The place is so nice that we decide to stay tomorrow.

Wednesday, June 16. Posidonio.
Constantin and I play tennis while the rest of the crew sleeps failure. Are 8.00. A day of sunshine and no wind. After breakfast we spend the hours on the beach to laze in the deck chair, served by a waiter of tavern.


A day without a history, but quite relaxed. At least for some of us. Indeed, Marcus and boosting self-respect of Cocò, he manages to involve it in a race of endurance. The hub of Gattadapelare back accusing a muscle tear. In the evening's performance of sirtaki. The local pirate (each port has one, here in the Aegean) performs along with some tourists.

Thursday, June 17. From a Marathi Posidonio (Arki). 22 miles.

We start at 10.00 with the barometer which marks 1037th There is no breath of wind. We are now certain that the ladies have made a pact with Neptune. To deceive the time engaged in maritime issues. Elke is unsurpassed in the junction plane from Fender and Gerlinde in gasse d'amante.
At 14.00 we are at the blue lagoon. Also this is to the liking of the crew and we stop for lunch and make diving and swimming gluttonous. 17:00 arrive in Marathi. Mikelis, says his sister, is in hypnosis. We understand that sleeps.
Marathi is how we left with Marzia. The same atmosphere of suspended time. They feel only the bells of goats and hens cluck

Unfortunately, Mike has no lobsters today, and we proposed to wait until tomorrow evening. I gladly accept this setback. In rada there are three other boats, but crews do not fall to the ground. Even today the Lord is good, take a room in hotel "in Mikelis. It 'simple, but new and comfortable.



Friday June 18. Marathi.
We do serve breakfast from Mikelis based egg and coffee while observing the two children of six to seven years (grandchildren Mike?) Playing with a lot of expertise with a rowing boat. Will be experienced by great men of the sea
Spend the morning on the west coast of the island where the sea is of a particular blue.
Marcus has been studying the tavern. Gerlinde, swamps English lady from the beginning of the century, together with lumachelle of sea water up to the knees, while Elke ranocchieggia below Constantin wanders along the cliff also a "hunting" of snails. The skipper says everything and then transmit it to posterity.
Collect snails to sea in large quantities for the pasta sauce tonight.

Again, this comes as a day of relaxing .. With your feet wet by the tide that rises, the head in the shade of the tamarisk, the breeze that caresses the skin crushing spend the afternoon nap on a beach east of the shore, where one faces the tavern.
Then I put to fish, again with great success. At sunset, in the well, and slowly we see the arrival of a German boat, sipping ouzo with ice (produced, the ice. Finally after three years I was put into operation mini-boat).
The dinner menu includes Mikelis by: spaghetti with the skipper lumachelle (cooked al dente by me), grilled lobster gently, Greek salad, retsina of the house.
Under a starry sky, there always let Marcus, Constantin and I, in berth, Gerlinde and Elke to "hotel".