Lesvos, Greece

This is about Horizons getting from Kemer, in the middle of Turkey’s south coast to Ayvalik at the northern end of Turkey’s west coast, and over to the island of Lesvos, Greece. We left Kemer on 30 April, a day later than planned and arrived in Mitilini on Lesvos on 6 June, about a week earlier than planned.

There is some urgency in getting as far north as you’re going before the meltemi sets in.
The meltemi is a strong northerly that is the prevailing summer wind in these parts, meaning that it will prevail against your efforts to go north. The plan was to proceed along the Turkish coast at a steady rate, but with ample time to enjoy the nifty harbors and anchorages along the way. Of course it was a shakedown cruise (like every spring) with frequent appearances by Man, The Tool Using Animal in his various manifestations.

Why did we start a day late? Because the Raytheon Chartplotter at the helm had gone on the blink. Sparky the Electrician located the loose wires after several hours. Oddly, both the positive and the ground had worked loose. Next day, to Finnike, a pretty and laid back little town, even if its name sounds like persnickety.
Then to the wonderfully protected anchorage of Kekova Roads, where we met up with several Kemer alumni and hung out for four days. In addition to catching up with the alumni (we hadn’t seen them in several weeks, so there was much news) we saw some Old Rocks (a crusader castle, Lycian tombs) and had some world-class calamari.

Then a quick day hop to the anchorage near Fethiye. More alums, of course. Fethiye has a nice little Greek theater right near the water and a good supermarket. The alums, ourselves included left the next day for nearby 22 Fathom Cove. It was cold out and and blowing 25k, but things calmed down wonderfully in the anchorage.

We experienced a new anchoring method—with five boats lined up side by each in a very small space. Here’s how it works. First boat drops hook and reverses, ending up with its stern close to shore, then into the dinghy to take a line to shore around a sturdy tree. Second through fifth boats follow suit, and there we are. Stuart of Annanita suggested a barbeque on shore and that’s what we had. Nest day we walked to Cleopatra’s Baths, less than two miles away. Old Rocks: When Cleopatra was on the lam she had a small building put up so she could bathe in the sea water indoors. (Cleopatra was very high maintenance.
She burned most of the library at Pergamon over a period of time to warm up her bath water.)

Since, to our surprise, our water tank was empty (yikes!) after three days, we hot-footed it to Marmaris. We checked into Yacht Marina on Star Island and put Mr. Pooles the Plumber to work.
Of yes, several alumni were gathered at the marina, a regular old home week. We got a lot of work done while we were there:
found and replaced the broken fitting that accounted for the water loss, finished rigging the davits, so now we can carry the dinghy out of the water instead of dragging it along behind us.

Let us now sing the praises of Marmaris. Marmaris is stuffed to the gills with chandleries and marine services and the chandleries are well-stocked. No need to improvise, they have the part you need! And the sanayi! This is a neighborhood of roofed, semi-enclosed shops. Car repair, auto glass, body shops, welders, fabricators, sheet metal, stainless, carpenters, cabinet makers, a vast industrial estate peopled by good ole boy artisans. Hard to leave. We hope to go back.

We tied up for one night at a restaurant’s dock in a large bay on the south side of the Datca peninsula. Then Sparky and Mr.
Pooles proceeded to be violently ill for two days. Upon their recovery, we went to Datca for the night. The 23rd, we checked in at the Bodrum marina, having stopped for lunch at the old rocks of ancient Knidos.

West of Bodrum lies the Gokova Gulf, which sports some fine remote anchorages and at one, English Harbor, we got more practice taking a line ashore, although that time we had the place to ourselves.
We also stopped at Cleopatra’s Beach—a lovely beach with perfectly round sand she had imported from Egypt. Back to Bodrum, and thence northward to Ayvalik, viat Point St. Nicholas, Sagicik, Cesme and Badlemi Limani. We were getting into the groove of finding and enjoying anchorages. And then it happened! Clogaroony in the toilet department. Exactly like last fall: aft head inoperative and forward head marginal. Time for a bit of marina.
Of course, there were alumni there, too.

Mr. Pooles spent two days rectifying the situation and came to two conclusions. First, the sanitary plumbing has too many right angle turns in it and an unnecessary uphill run, and this contributes to a tragic history of clogaroonies every few months.
Second, until we get replumbed this fall we will send a pint of vinegar down each head weekly and a pint of muriatic acid down monthly to keep the dreaded calcium carbonate (and such stuff as clog nightmares are made of) from accumulating. (Pretty good job of telling about the two days of work on the sanitary plumbing without oversharing, don’t you think? If you disagree, let us know and we’ll send you the blow by blow.)

Some reactions. Ayvalik is an interesting town. Before 1923, it was mainly Greek. There are old buildings in the town, and the old Ottoman architecture is much more interesting and correspondingly less earthquake-proof that the reinforced concrete structures that define the architecture of the recent decades. We also saw grafitti for the first time in Turkey.

We checked out of Ayvalik Turkey one morning and checked into Mitilini, Lesvos Greece three hours later after an 18 mile sail.
All formalitites were handled efficiently and pleasantly both out and in. This was a definite improvement over our check in to Greece last fall, which involved running around Corfu for three hours after an overnight sail.

The changes. In Greece, there are no muezzins chanting the call to prayer one hour before sunrise, one hour after sunset, and once each morning, midday and afternoon on loudspeakers. You do get church bells, but during waking hours. Culturally, it was a relief to return to Christendom, allowing for what’s become of Christendom these days and how secular a place Turkey has become thanks to Attaturk. There is a beautiful church in Mitilini and across from it an ecclesiastical museum filled with icons and manuscript prayer books. A recording of chants was playing in the background, not at all Gregorian but Greek-style. The town was filled with grafitti.

The architecture in Greece is a decided visual improvement over Turkey. Much of Turkey is new construction—earthquake proof but ugly. The economy is growing and the climate is attracting hordes of retirees from cold places (most of Europe) who want to buy property in cheap sunny places. Lesvos has little new construction and the lovely old buildings are now protected, and not cheap. The euro is the currency here, so it could be much more expensive for us, but we have again entered a land where wine is good, plentiful and inexpensive.

No pictures this time. All marinas in Turkey have had wifi; we have found no wifi in Greece thus far.