Sailing Aglaya

On 22 May, our friends Annegret and Andreas come on board in Poros. The four of us are now sailing together for ten days – a lovely change of pace. Short legs and mostly good sailing winds make the ten days a relaxed and varied time. Only the first day is wet and a bit rough. We sail round the island of Poros in heavy rain and strong winds with a swell. But then it clears up and we have a peaceful night at anchor in Ormos Soupia, a little way south-west of Poros. 

Next destination: the uninhabited little island of Dokos. On the north side there is a large, well-sheltered bay, which is actually marked as a restricted area on the nautical chart. When we arrive, there are several large motor yachts moored there. Well, then we can anchor there too. In the evening, after the large yachts have packed away their ‘water toys’, it becomes quiet. The wind dies down, the water’s surface becomes smooth, and we go for a swim from the boat for the first time this year. The water is still quite cold, but crystal clear. 

The next day, a lovely easterly wind takes us to Ermioni. Annegret, a novice at the helm, manages 6.6 knots with just the headsail and mizzen. From then on, we have another capable helmswoman on board. But Andreas also takes the helm time and again over the next few days and keeps us on course. There’s plenty going on in Ermioni. On the north side, the few berths in the harbour are taken. A marina is being built in the bay. It’s said to have 300 berths. We tie up at the south pier. We’re already familiar with it. We were here for the first time in 2020, our first year with Aglaya. 

After a lovely walk through the pine forest on the peninsula, we set off the next day – again with a lovely sailing breeze – on to Porto Heli. We could easily drop anchor in the large bay, but we fancy a bit of luxury and a hot shower. That’s why we’d booked into the marina. Porto Heli is a nice place, but the marina is a bit dull. So we’re looking forward to our next anchorage.

In the very well-sheltered bay of Kilada, we moor right in front of the prehistoric Franchthi Cave. People lived here as far back as 20,000 BC. Back then, the sea level was significantly lower and people kept livestock here. Now the cave lies right by the sea. Of course we take a trip there in the dinghy. Our new dinghy is actually only suitable for two people. With three of us on board – and with the wind and waves – the trip turned out to be a wet and rather adventurous affair. In the evening and at night, the cave is lit up, a magnificent sight. We like our anchorage so much that we decide to stay another day, swimming, reading, admiring the beautiful landscape around us and, of course, the starry sky at night. Right at the back of the bay, by the way, is the large Basimakopoulos boatyard. That is where Aglaya spent the winter of 2022/2023 on land.

A strong southerly wind and squalls drive us to Astros on the opposite side of the Argolic Gulf the next day. Strong crosswinds and a high swell make it impossible for us to moor in the small harbour with the bow anchor and stern to the pier. Reversing straight in is out of the question. So we moor alongside the pier in a somewhat precarious spot. With the help of other sailors, we manage to secure ourselves quite well after all. And as is usually the case, things calm down again in the evening and we can go for a relaxed meal at the best taverna in Astros.

From the Franconian castle ruins towering above Astros, there is a sweeping view across the gulf and you can even see as far as Nafplion. That is our next destination. Unfortunately, due to a lack of wind, we have to motor the ten nautical miles. As compensation, we can see flying fish leaping above the mirror-smooth water’s surface. In the harbour of Nafplion, we are greeted by two friendly men in orange vests. They assign us a berth and take our giant white ropes. With the wind coming from diagonally behind, the reverse manoeuvre to the pier goes smoothly.

We are now moored directly below the Venetian fortress of Palamidi. A stunning backdrop. Annegret and Andreas are spending their last night on board. We said our goodbyes to them today. They are now on their way to Athens by bus. We had a lovely, varied and relaxing time together.

During the night, whilst still moored at the pier in Kea, a strong north-north-westerly wind blows, driving heavy swells into the harbour. Our neighbours, a flotilla of three boats, are also taking a look at the situation in the morning. Is it safe to cast off with strong gusts coming from the side, without the propeller being pushed onto the neighbouring boat’s anchor chain? We are the first to give it a go, and it just about works. Even in the harbour, the swell is so strong that Gisela doesn’t walk around the boat to fetch the fenders. First, we motor out a bit to see just how rough it really is with the wind and swell. And it really does get rough. Aglaya has never been shaken about like this with us on board before. The bow keeps dipping into the water, the water rises up to the rubbing strake, and huge breaking waves splash us in the cockpit and cover the whole boat in salt. But Aglaya is holding her own bravely; she’s a strong lady, and we’re brave and resilient too, because we’ve never experienced such a violent and chaotic swell for a whole day before.

We’re on our way to Poros in the Saronic Gulf, a good 40 nautical miles – a long journey. Steering is exhausting; we take turns every half hour. Once, whilst changing at the helm, Walter injures his foot. Treating the wound has to wait until the evening.

When things calm down briefly off Cape Sounion, we hoist the mizzen and ease out the jib a little. But then the wind and swell pick up again and we can’t hold our course. So we motor the last stretch straight towards the south side of Poros to strike the sails there. 

We’ve made it to Poros; we were underway for ten hours. Windy had forecast 25 knots of wind, but we had a steady 35 to just under 40. The whole pier in Poros is full. So we drop anchor in the bay, enjoying the peace and quiet and the lovely view of the town. The next morning there’s space, so we moor at the pier, tidy up and give the boat a good clean. Annegret and Andreas are arriving tomorrow on the ferry from Athens. Aglaya will sparkle for them.

We don‘t have fotos from our wilde ride. We needed our hands to steer, to fix us on the boat and to worf with the sails. But of course we can show you the view from our anchorage at Poros.

Unspoilt coastline, countless wind turbines and just two sheltered harbours – that’s Euboea on the eastern side, which is exposed to the Meltemi. But as we’re already familiar with the sheltered Inside Passage on the western side, we now want to continue southwards along the eastern coast. A long stretch from the beautiful and hospitable island of Skyros to the south-west brings us, in wind and rain, to the fishing harbour of Agioi Apostoloi. Here you can moor well sheltered, if you manage to tie up. A fisherman showed us to a berth and wanted to take our lines. But with strong gusts of wind, you have to tighten the lines quickly. Our fisherman, however, remains completely calm and, despite our shouts, first ties a knot in the bow line. By then we’re already at a right angle with the bow to the pier. Next attempt, same result. It works on the third try. Just as well, because now it’s really starting to rain. We take a breather below deck and later spend quite some time marvelling at a full rainbow from the cockpit. All’s well again. We enjoy a cosy evening on board.

Next day, next leg, to the Cycladic island of Andros. We haven’t been there yet; we want to take a day’s break there and have a look around the island. Once again, things turn out differently: there’s still space for us in our chosen harbour, Batsi, but with a strong crosswind we can’t manage to back up to the pier using the bow anchor. What a pity! But there’s no point in complaining. We motor the three nautical miles to Gavrion ferry port. A man from the port authority tells us the harbour is full. It doesn’t look very nice here either. Next option: drop anchor. And that’s often not the worst option at all. We drop anchor off a beach; we’re all alone here. Little light from the mainland, lots of stars in the sky, a bit of swell, then a quiet night.

In the morning, strong gusts of wind wake us. A little less than a steady 32 knots would have been enough for the next leg to the island of Kea. Sailing with just the mizzen and a strong swell from behind, we cover the 25 nautical miles at speeds of up to 6.4 knots. Steering is exhausting, but with a change at the helm every half hour, we arrive safely in Korissia on Kea. Mooring goes well here despite a bit of a crosswind. Never before have we had to put so many things back in their places below deck after sailing. Lots of things had slid and flown about, but nothing was broken.

We’ve been to the island of Kea four years ago. Here we’re moored nicely at the pier. And we treat ourselves to another day ashore, visit the Chora, and say to the stone, sleeping lion, “Hello, it’s lovely to see you again!” We reckon the lion isn’t sleeping, but smiling. We follow this up with a lovely hike up in the hills with views of Andros, Euboea, and south towards Poros. That’s where we’re heading tomorrow.  

Still on Thassos we are waiting for the right wind to sail south-west. But it’s not coming. On the contrary – it’s getting calmer and calmer. So we decide to motor the 58-nautical-mile leg to Chalkidiki, to the southern tip of the middle finger.

We set off just before seven, with the sea as smooth as glass and no swell, sailing 30 nautical miles towards Mount Athos. The closer we get, the more impressively it towers above us. We can still see many small patches of snow in the steep rocky gullies, and then the numerous monasteries on the rocky slopes. You’re not allowed to moor or anchor here.

We pass the southern tip and then set course for the southern tip of Sithónia, the middle finger. At four o’clock in the afternoon, we sail into the bay of Porto Koufo. We already know it well from last autumn. The small pier is free, so we moor alongside there. Very pleasant. But then a local informs us that large trawlers are very likely to arrive in the evening to land their catch here. We don’t want to get in their way. So we drop anchor in the bay. Actually, that’s much nicer. And sure enough: as darkness falls, one large trawler after another arrives. We count at least eight. They can’t all fit at the pier and have to circle the bay until a space becomes free again. By morning they’ve all gone.

We’re staying another day, waiting for the right wind again, mooring at the pier during the day and dropping anchor again in the evening. There might be trawlers coming around again.

But then we’ll head further south to the Northern Sporades, to Steni Vala on the island of Alonissos. Another fairly long leg. And all along the way, dolphins – lots of small ones, but some big ones too. Some accompany us for a while, perhaps in the hope that we’ll throw them a fish, or simply for fun. 

Steni Vala is a small, narrow bay with a pier. We were here once before in 2022 with our friends Andrea and Axel. We remembered it as idyllic and cosy. And that’s exactly how it is again this time. The owner of Café Icarus helps us moor and then hands us a long plank, as we can’t get our stern quite close enough to the pier because of the rocks. After a brief thunderstorm in the evening, we sleep soundly, as if in Abraham’s bosom.

The next day takes us a good 40 nautical miles further south to the island of Skyros. First there’s no wind at all with stormy conditions, and then suddenly 25 knots are on the weather forecast today. In Linaria, the small ferry port of Skyros, we moor comfortably at a bollard. The harbour master recalls that we were here for a few days four years ago, waiting for three new service batteries that were delivered by bus and ferry from Athens.

During that time, we had explored the beautiful island by hire car and on foot. This time, we only want to stay for two nights and simply take a day to relax – and, of course, experience the spectacle once again when the ferry arrives in the evening and Richard Strauss’s ‘Thus Spoke Zarathustra’ (performed by Eumir Deodato) resounds through the harbour.

A day later as planned, we were back on the water with Aglaya on the afternoon of 7th of May. All the necessary work has been completed. This time, even the propeller has been given a coat of anti-fouling paint. And the sacrificial anode on the water collector had to be specially turned and filed down because of its unusual shape. Stavros had picked up two new mooring ropes for us from the chandler at Thessaloniki. We had told him how long they should be and what diameter they should have. But we hadn’t specified the colour. Now we have two ‘white giants’ on board. Unfamiliar. But they won’t stay white for long.

Once in the water in the travellift berth, Vlad carried out the engine service. In the process, we realised that the starter battery was running low. Not good at the start of the season. We were allowed to stay in the berth overnight and were given a new starter battery the next morning. Now our Nanni starts up like a dream again.

But we want to sail! Over to the south-western corner of Thassos, to Limenaria. It goes quite well in a light breeze, but then the wind dies down completely and it starts to rain. So we motor the rest of the way into the harbour. Here we are greeted again by the black cats we already know from last October. 

This year, we didn’t get back to our boat in Nea Peramos until 29 April. Gisela’s 97-year-old mother is in very poor health. We’ve been looking after her and are still keeping busy with it all from afar, taking things a bit one day at a time. How lucky that Gisela still has three brothers, and how helpful it is, that so many organisational matters can be sorted out digitally.

This winter was “somehow peculiar”’, Stavros from the boatyard tells us on our arrival. It rained almost the whole of February and March. The boatyard was under water, it looked like a lake. But we found Aglaya in good condition. Although everything on deck was covered in reddish dust again despite the winter cover, below deck everything was bone dry. 

So, let’s get to work! Scrubbing the deck, metal and wood care, greasing the turnbuckles, hoisting the sails… It’s cold (12 degrees by day and six at night), the north-easterly wind is blowing strongly and it rains on and off during the first few days. It still feels very much like winter. The snow on the higher mountains fits the picture perfectly.

But then the sun does come out after all, and on Walter’s birthday we take a trip to the ancient city of Philippi, the first early Christian settlement in Europe. There is plenty to see here of Christian and Roman origin, but little of Greek, as much of that still needs to be excavated. The Apostle Paul stopped here on his travels. The ancient trade and military route, the Via Egnatia, ran right through the city. We admire not only the many excavations, but also the magnificent mountain landscape.

More pictures from Philippi:

Back at the boat, the underwater hull still needs sanding and painting. The engine service is also still pending. And the mainsail still needs to be rigged. There has been too much wind for that over the last few days. We’re due to launch the day after tomorrow. Will it work out? We’re sceptical.

It's cold at home in Germany this winter. That's nice. Finally, snow and ice again. In Greece, too, it is quite cold at times in some regions. And there is extreme weather with lots of rain, flooding, strong winds, snow, and temperatures around zero degrees. “Usually we didn't have winter in Greece. But since we are in the EU, we have to follow Ursula,” comments our friend Stavros with a smiley. Our Aglaya is ashore in Nea Peramos. So far, she has been spared from storms. We hope it stays that way until we get back on board in mid-April.

Even though we like winter, we like to warm up from time to time and look back on the past season. We have now made two videos with lots of pictures. Take a look if you want to warm up a bit too.

Video 1: Sailing 2025, Part 1, From the Ionian Sea to Thessaloniki
Video 2: Sailing 2025, Part 2, Sailing in Northeast Greece