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!