The Gulf of Corinth
On the 23rd July we left the gulf of Patras behind us, radioed for permission to transit the spectacular Rion Suspension Bridge, then sailed, well motored in a mill pond under it, it really is an amazing feat of engineering.
The Rion Suspension Bridge
Having passed under the bridge, we had a short sail when the winds got up to a force 3 for an hour and finally motored, 18 miles later into Trizonia, a green and lush tiny island less than 200 metres off the northern coast of the Gulf, where we dropped our pick and planned to stay a couple of nights, visiting the small fishing hamlet crammed with holiday makers shipped across the 200m stretch from the mainland, chilling and paddle boarding.
We had already decided not to try the marina, as we had read that having been abandoned it was a hazard in its own right with deserted, rusting and even sunken yachts decorating it. they were not wrong!
Trizonia
Interesting walk around the abandoned marina project
We also caught up with Dimistris and his family who had come to Trizonia for the day and spent a nice afternoon chatting on board his power boat. We then ventured back to Seaclusion to watch the sunset, although far more entertaining was watching a learner paddle boarder who clearly couldn’t get the hang of it and repeatedly and dramatically fell off in every direction possible, using all the profanities in his vocabulary (he was English so we understood every word!) But I don’t think his name was Martyn !
On the 25th July we set off further eastward towards the tranquil narrow inlet of Galaxahidi, under sail in south easterly winds, stopping at 2 or 3 bays along the way looking for a suitable anchorage, but as none took our fancy for a variety of reasons, we plumbed for the bay immediately outside Galaxihidi and arrived just after 5pm.
Our view of Galaxahidi from the boat.
It was such a beautiful evening, we decided to drop the dinghy and go ashore for some supper and a few glasses of Vino, David put on a shirt and smart shorts, me a little dress and thankfully the camera in a water proof bag, not that we thought we needed to, it was just precautionary. Galaxahidi was charming and very hot!
After dinner, in our sheltered little spot, we returned to the dinghy to realize that the wind had got up, not enough to effect Seaclusion but absolutely enough to effect us in the dinghy, particularly as it was on our nose. To say we were drenched when we got back to Seaclusion is an understatement, but at least the few glasses of vino enabled us to find the whole thing hysterically funny! The following morning we went exploring…
After a lovely wander round, we returned to the boat mid afternoon and decided to have dinner on board, partly because the forecast showed it getting a little bit windy later on. We had a peaceful dinner and glass of vino and then as we started the washing up, the wind started to pick up. By the time we had finished it was blowing nearly 30 knots with wind caps speeding along our once tranquil bay. As our anchor was laid in the opposite direction, the winds having done a 180 since yesterday, it really was only a matter of time before our anchor dragged. Still with some light, we reset, dumping all of our 75 meters of chain out! We then watched another boat with 2 woman and a young lad on board, skipper on the shore, drag their anchor and then blow the fuse to the windlass so they couldn’t lift it entirely off the seabed. Waiting for their skipper to try to navigate the waves in his dinghy, they then proceeded to motor around the bay, not realising the havoc they could potentially cause, and indeed did cause, to the other anchored boats with their anchor. As we watched it all unfold, the inevitable happened and they picked up another boat’s chain and soon started dragging them around the bay with them. As they motored in our direction we managed to get them on the VHF and get them to change direction before they had 2 boats dragging with them. Finally the skipper managed to secure help from someone with a much bigger rib and make it back to the boat, and with the wind still blowing 30 knots, bravely unknotted the 2 anchors and allowed both boats to safely reset, some distance from us I might add. The wind finally dropped at 1 am and we managed to get some shut eye!
Our tranquil bay outside Galaxahidi, not so tranquil anymore!
The following morning we set sail to go round the corner to Itea, a somewhat backwater place but was the nearest stopping point for us to get to the Ruins of Delphi. Itea survives on the dark red haematite iron ore extracted around the coast, visible as we approached the harbour. Our pilot guide said it was an alongside mooring with power and water. Hmmm, yes it was an alongside mooring, with the wind blowing us off. David moored her perfectly, alas I didn’t get both lines on quick enough in the wind and then spent the next 10 minutes trying to pull her in so we could get on and off the boat. Assistance finally came from a German lady and together we got it sorted and our springs set, only to find no water or electricity. Once the wind dropped we knew it would be a hot night! Later in the afternoon, we went exploring principally to find out how we could get to Delphi, and for David to get a much needed hair cut. The waterfront was a line of tavernas and bars, behind a rather old-fashioned place, clearly not on the European tourist trail and not changed by the local Greek Tourism.
Itea
We found a lovely restaurant near the beach and had dinner that evening, returning to the boat to crash for an early start to Delphi to avoid as much of the heat as possible, and wow was it worth it…
Delphi was, so our pilot guide says, regarded by the ancient Greeks as the centre of the world. Its spectacular site amidst ravines, rocky bluffs and sheer cliffs on the side of Mount Parnassos contributes for a large part to its air of mystery. Excavation of the site was started by the French in 1892, and still continues.
The Ruins of Delphi
We had hoped to get back in time to leave Itea and headed for our next destination, Andikiron, but sadly not as it was a 20 mile trip, so we kicked our heels for the afternoon, in the sweltering heat, oh for electricity and aircon!, and left early the following morning, in a mill pond, thankfully in a way as the headland we had to pass is renowned for severe katabatic winds creating whirlpools in the sea! As we turned the corner we picked up a loud knocking sound. At first we thought it was to do with the engine, and thankfully some wind enabled us to kill it and sail. However the knocking sound stayed with us so we spent the next hour checking the lockers to see if there was a likely culprit, but no joy, that was, until the wind dropped and we were doing less than 5 knots and the noise stopped. We soon ascertained that it came back over 5 knots, so speed was effecting it. Clearly it had to be something in the water, connected to us, so we stopped worrying and when we moored up safely in Andikon, I donned my mask and went swimming, here is a picture of the culprit, a stick that had been caught at the joint with our rudder and hull and was happily tapping away when we got some speed up!
Andikiron is small and friendly, very local Greek, resort, with ouzeris and fish tavernas amidst waterside cars and restaurants. Even this sleepy little place came alive at night.
The following day (30th July), we left heading for Nisoi Alkonidhes, 2 tiny islands in the middle of the Gulf, in search of an isolated mooring, (one where David didnt mind practicing his paddle boarding skills!) apart from 1 other boat, we found it and had a peaceful night on anchor. The larger of the 2 islands once supported a prosperous monastery but which we were led to believe is now defunct, leaving its buildings standing on these lonely islands. It was much to our confusion then, as night drew in, we saw a car’s headlights around the island! I guess two questions came to mind, 1. How did it get there & 2. Why would you need one, given it was about a mile long & 400 mtrs wide.
The next morning, we woke early, I ventured out on the paddleboard and went round the corner to check out the other anchorage, to find 6 boats, half a dozen tents on the beach and a jetty (explains the car).. so we definitely picked the right spot. We then left this peaceful haven at 9am to give us enough time to motor (as there was no wind at that time of day) to Corinth in time to grab one of 4 available spaces in its tiny harbour and go exploring to see Old Ancient Corinth and of course the Canal from above!
We were lucky and grabbed ourselves a spot, the entrance being a little tight as the depth of the entrance was no more than 50 cm below our keel. With our boat all safe and secured we wandered into Corinth, a modern and thoroughly nondescript city, and as it was Sunday and no buses were running we hailed a cab which took us first to Ancient Corinth. As we picked up a couple of bottles of water from the kiosk and paid our entrance fee, we made a little friend, a black version of Daisy, about the same size as she was when she was dumped on the campo. She was hungry of course, so I shared the only thing I had with me by way of food, a muffin, which was rewarded by a roll over onto her back offering up her tummy for a scratch. It was then I saw the numerous ticks in her ears and so badly wanted to take her back to the boat to give her some love & enjoyment for a few weeks, but as David pointed out quite sensibly and not for the first time this trip, what would I do come the end of the trip, turf her back onto the street in some place she didnt know? I knew he was right of course..
Ancient Corinth, which sits on a plateau above modern Coritnth, once upon a time commanded the passage of trade between the mainland and the Peloponnisos and across the isthmus between the Ionian and the Aegean. The site was much smaller than we expected given the importance of the city and not quite as spectacular as Delphi but still interesting.
Ancient Corinth
The highlight of the day was, yes you guessed it, viewing the Corinthian Canal from above, just amazing but feeling a little intrepid for tomorrow’s adventure!
To conclude, a few facts, the canal is 3.2 miles long, 25m wide and 7m deep. the limestone from which it is cut rises to 79m above sea level at the highest point. It is crumbling, so for one day a week the canal is closed for repairs and dredging. There are 2 hydraulic bridges across the canal at either end, which are lowered down into the water, plus 2 road and 1 railway bridge across the top. It was from one of these that we admired the view. Before the canal was built, the ancients used to drag ships across the isthmus on paved road (the dhiolkos). The canal was started by a French company and finished by the Greeks in 1893 and was enlarged after it sustained damage in the Second World War. It is not cheap to transit the canal, but given the saving in both time and diesel you can see why it is still heavily used.
And tomorrow, I will be realising a 20 year old aspiration and that is to sail (well motor obviously) through it, so excited. David has already resigned himself to the fact that he will be on the helm as I will be trying to wear my camera out!
