That’s all folks

Decisively terminal photo today with KJ leaving her natural environment to rest ashore until the autumn - which isn't too far away.

The departure checklist is almost all ticked, and we haven't remembered yet what we've forgotten.

Reality?

Back to Gocek.
The first photo is the Carrefour floating supermarket being stocked for the day. It does a circuit round the bays so people can buy their supplies without coming into town.

The second one is the start of the fleet of day trip boats leaving Gocek this morning. Big business and a relaxing way to see the bays and islands.

The third is our not-at-all guilty pleasure at the marina beach for the afternoon. A morning of cleaning KJ in 40° left us in serious need of lying on a beach. The fact that it features fine white sand, good loungers, two freshly laundered towels per person, and a regiment of eager waiters lifts it somewhat above the Ballygally experience.

Stings in tails

The photos are of the relaxing evening at anchor in Round Bay for our last night of 'freedom' before returning to the marina in Gocek to prepare to return home.

The very hot weather however created very high overnight winds. So for the last relaxing night the skipper found himself clutching a cushion and an anchor alarm for the night watch in the cockpit. Bed at 0600 was very welcome. A doze on the marina beach at the end of the day was as welcome as it was inevitable.

Close shaves

Having relaxed in our quiet anchorage overnight, the morning was equally quiet except for a few Turkish families on the nearby beach. Lunchtime brought an English yacht and a Turkish gulet, both of which puzzled us by anchoring rather close by. They hadn't thought about swinging circles, nor had they allowed for change of wind direction, so when it inevitably came as the land breeze changed to a sea breeze, they swung towards us, and an emergency engine start and reverse of KJ escaped the gulet by inches. They immediately raised their anchor and sailed away.

We motored round to Tomb Bay, (the two photos - note sleeping crew), where the skipper had his traditional final Turkish haircut and shave. Two close shaves in one day.

The biggest soda farl in the world

One of the pleasing features of calling in to different islands, towns, bays and tavernas is the never-ending varieties of bread. Some is open textured and dries out in hours; some is moist, yellow and begs for some butter. Today's contribution from Ciftlik on the Turkish coast was this whopper, straight out of a wood fired oven and too hot to hold. It is the closest thing imaginable to a norn iron soda.

Today's journey was less of a triumph than yesterday's. Longer, tougher, rougher, but with less good sailing wind, it took 8 hours for the 40 miles. The second photo is the view over the stern from our anchorage in Round Bay near Goçek. Peace and quiet with a great view and the prospect of star watching with no light pollution.

Spectacular sailing

It was time to leave Europe this morning. Farewell to various people and then the formalities. Amazingly the process went like clockwork, with smiling helpful officials and no queues.

The sail was the most challenging so far with very brisk winds and more rolling swell than expected. (The next bit is for sailors) It involved every point of sail, multiple gybes, goose-winging, gybe preventer, and constant adjustments. By far the most technical sail this year. The really pleasing bit was to be the only yacht we saw all day actually sailing. All others were motoring. We averaged 6kts over the whole trip which may not sound much but felt it. (30 nautical miles in 5 hours).

Ended up in Ciftlik, with good old-fashioned rickety jetties.

Crew resigns over Europe decision

The skipper's decision to stay another night in Europe has led to the crew's dramatic decision to quit.

"I think we've had enough of these tavernas with their local food, the beautiful harbours with fishing boats providing a picturesque backdrop, and romantic images of donkey transport evoking memories of a long-ago honeymoon."

The skipper's arguments about weather forecasts and dangers of being driven onto the rocks fell on deaf ears.

"We've had enough of these weather forecasts. We said we were going to Turkey and it's time to go. Predictions of gales and rocky lee shores are simply part of project fear."

The skipper has ordered an ouzo and stands firm.

When will you Symi again?

The houses that stretch up over the hill to the right in the first photo continue into the houses pouring down over the hill on the left in the second one. The main town here stretches up over the hill into the bay (Pedi) where we anchored last night. Today it is the main event. Sunday in town.

After musing a few days ago about the tricky business of anchoring, we were told today of a hazard here we were unaware of. We are (reliably) informed that there are still a dozen cars on the seabed in the harbour after the floods last November, not to mention assorted fridges, cookers, and household paraphernalia. Who knows what we'll raise with the anchor!

Agitation

A stimulating sail this morning (back to those sailing euphemisms again), from the gulf of Sogut, with its sophisticated dining on the jetty, across to Symi. Right up to the last minute we weren't sure if the wind was going to drop enough for a safe and relaxing anchorage at Pedi, but we took the plunge.

Having settled in, we engaged in the usual sport of watching and commenting on others' arrival and anchoring. The highlight was a large French yacht anchoring right behind us. The skipper seemed to want to drop anchor as close behind us as possible. The crew (wife) on the foredeck was not happy. She started with some sharp instructions, then became somewhat agitated, and eventually was jumping up and down shouting at the skipper to back away. He did reverse in time, but she ran the length of the yacht to shout a little more directly into his ear with her analysis of the situation and suggestions about how he might helm.

Thong bikinis and metallic silver hotpants

Turkey can be quite conservative about female modesty. It is not unusual to see women swimming in full draped costumes from head to foot.

In sailing coves and tavernas like Sogut, the dress code is generally whatever is cool and informal. T-shirts more common than proper shirts, shorts are universal.

Given those two aspects of Turkey it has been particularly fascinating to see our culturally sensitive Russian neighbours sporting thong bikinis by day (although the only buckles in eyes were perhaps from 4 middle-aged Brits on the next boat) and for dinner very very high heels and (honestly) shiny metallic hotpants. I'm sorry my nerve failed when it came to photographs, so instead you have the jetty and the view from the sun beds and the shady lounging area.

Flakey pastry in a gale

I knew this wasn't a good idea when the trusty crew emerged up the companionway into the cockpit, and I felt as if someone had thrown fine sand in my face. The fine sand was sweet, and turned out to be icing sugar.
The flakey pastry in the long Greek apple pie was a credit to the pastry-chef. It blew around the cockpit like a flake-storm every time a bite was attempted. New rule: no flakey pastry in a gale.

The anchorage at Panormitis was relatively sheltered and safe, but the winds were high enough to require an extra 10 metres of anchor chain, and the skipper 'sleeping' in the cockpit to keep an eye on things. All quietened down by 02:00.

A serious consultation of all available forecasts led to the conclusion that the only safe option was a sheltered anchorage on the Turkish coast, so a swap of flags was required as we sailed across to Sogut. Strangely the forecast vicious northwesterly has changed to a southeasterly. So much for rational decision making and the choice of shelter from the NW.

3D games

Another visit to the cool corridors of the Monastery today. We dodged between the boatloads of visitors for a quiet time. The veneration of icons was being taken very seriously and respectfully by the visiting Greeks. Maire lit a candle for the children (paid for with a Methodist Euro).

Having decided this was a good anchorage for another night we moved to find a slightly more sheltered spot. Choosing where to drop the anchor is part guesswork and part prediction of what will happen. The tricky bit is estimating where other boats' anchors are. In a strong wind this is quite easy as the boat will be pushed straight back from it with the chain pulled tight. When the wind isn't so strong, and is blowing in a different direction from when the anchor was laid, it becomes tricky estimating where on the seabed, many metres below, the other anchors might be. Then the 3D figuring of swinging circles, ours and others, plus the guesstimate of what the wind will do overnight makes it a tricky process. We'll see later how we did.

Sanctuary

Tilos was left behind in a delightful sail across to Panormitis on Symi. (For sailors: a reach that became a very broad reach in a steady F4 ). We anchored close to the Monastery in the bay and explored ashore.

The Church of St Michael in the Monastery is beautiful, but no photos allowed.

The penance for anchoring close to save a long row in the dinghy is that we are a little exposed to the swell that comes in. This will have an impact on choice of cooking tonight (one pot simple), and require anti slip pads for gins and wines (if we have any).

Patron Saint of Sailors

St Nicholas is looking particularly worried for some reason. Maybe he has seen the forecasts too.

His church is a wonderful confection of shapes and contrasting colours.

The harbour filled up today, eleven yachts in now and no space left. The huge ferry put us all into some sort of perspective - feeling pretty small and insignificant.

The harbour-master rules with a rod of iron, and there were some raised voices today. An errant Englishman was instructed that 'I am the harbour master and you will speak to me with respect.' Don't think they are going to get a discount.

Tilos vindication

A bus trip to Megalo Chorio (big village). Was interesting. Micro Chorio (small village) seemed to have 2 houses. Megalo Chorio has a couple of pleasing churches - one very small, dedicated to St Theodoro.

The forecast looks interesting for later in the week. For readers who can interpret these things I include a screenshot for Thursday.

Personalities again:
Skipper to cafe owner: Where does the bus back to Livadhia go from?
Cafe: From here. You'll see it.
Skipper (some time later): I'm not confident about this bus.
Crew: Relax. Why would she give you the wrong information?
Skipper to cafe owner: The bus goes from here or the crossroads? At 1:00 o'clock?
Cafe: Ah. It's Sunday. Maybe 14:45.
Skipper: What about the excursion bus?
Cafe: Ah. I don't know. Maybe the crossroads.

Vindication!