Sailing Aglaya

... for our government! For years we have been travelling with our boat in Greece, moving along the EU's external border. We have seen Greek and Turkish patrol boats preventing boats carrying refugees from entering the EU. We have seen stolen sailing yachts in which refugees are transported by smugglers and abandoned just off the Greek coast. Such boats are then often completely abandoned and when the Coastguard discovers them, they are towed to the nearest harbour and put on a chain. In Kalamata, we saw refugees, who were housed in tents and were probably deported again. And in Leros, we could see the large, brightly lit refugee camp from the marina, which looked like a prison. Yes, we are on the EU's external border and are wondering what the future holds for EU refugee policy.

It is clear that countries such as Greece and Italy are particularly challenged, as many refugees are arriving here. And they receive little support from countries such as Germany to deal with the people, who have not made the journey from their homeland lightly, in a reasonably dignified manner. The Greek Coastguard is known for its brutal approach.

What should the EU's immigration and asylum policy look like in the long term? Only together can there be effective solutions, which, however, must not be aimed at rejection but rather at integration. However, our current government is doing exactly the opposite: turning people away at the German border and not seriously working with the other EU states on a humane solution that is acceptable to all. Where is the long-term goal? We cannot recognise it and are ashamed of our government. How is a Mr Dobrindt any different from a Donald Trump who flouts the law?

There has always been displacement, flight and immigration. Reports on the eastern Mediterranean have provided detailed information on this since ancient times. The question is how we deal with it today in a rich country like Germany.

As we sail into the entrance to the Pagasitic Gulf (Gulf of Volos), we can already see Volos from a distance of 20 nautical miles. Volos is a modern commercial, industrial and university town. Large parts of it were destroyed by an earthquake in 1955 and then rebuilt in a chequerboard pattern. The whole scenery as you sail through the gulf is spectacular, as the city lies at the foot of the high Pilion Mountains, on whose slopes the villages cling like swallows' nests. We can moor for a few days in the city harbour at Sail Aegean. This is only possible from Monday to Friday lunchtime, as the charter boats are there at the weekend.

According to legend, Volos is the city of the Argonauts, who set sail from here on their ship Argo to the Black Sea to steal the Golden Fleece. The city is proud of its heroes. A stylised sculpture of the Argo stands on the harbour promenade and an Argo museum is being planned. In the quaint fishermen's quarter, the only one to have been spared by the earthquake, there are many small tspouradikos, where delicious mezedes (mostly fish and seafood) are served with every glass of tsiporou.

Of course we explore the city. We take the bus to Pelion for a day and visit Makrinitsa, the ‘model village’ above Volos. Although it is grey and cool, the view down to the town and the gulf is magnificent. We wander around on old donkey tracks paved with stones and admire the beautiful multi-storey houses. 

We have to leave again on Friday morning, as the charter boats are now arriving. With a bit of rain and a strong wind from the mountain (gusts of around 40 knots), we sail south again with just the mizzen (our smallest sail) at speeds of up to seven knots to the exit of the gulf.

We had registered with Kostas in the small harbour of Agias Kyriaki. He took our lines in front of his taverna so that we could almost jump from the boat to the table for dinner. Instead of a mooring fee, you go out to eat. Apart from the fact that Kostas is one of the nicest and most helpful person, we've ever met, the fish soup and seafood risotto were simply delicious. So, this stop was a highlight!

The next day, we climbed up to the village of Trikeri on a stone-paved path. A beautiful path through lots of greenery and with great views of the gulf and across to Euboea.

We have now left the gulf and found another beautiful spot, the harbour of Plataniá on the south-eastern side of the Pelion peninsula. There are lots of fishermen and a few sailing boats here. We meet one of them, a couple from Slovenia, for the third time.The season hasn't really started yet, it's quiet. And when we went for a swim on the beautiful sandy beach this morning, we have it all to ourselves. Tomorrow we want to stay and do a circular walk, which we have a detailed description of.

No, we didn't take any photos of this meeting. We were far too busy. When we wanted to set off yesterday with our boat, freshly showered from the night's heavy rain, and pulled in our anchor chain, we already suspected that the boat, that had just moored next to us, had put its chain over ours. And so it was. Normaly you can quickly free yourself from someone else's anchor with an auxiliary line. But this time, our anchor winch kept breaking down when our neighbour's anchor came into view. No wonder! It turned out that there were two more anchors hanging from the two anchors. Four anchors were wedged into each other. We are strong and always have new ideas on how to solve unforeseen problems. But here nothing worked any more. Help arrived in a dinghy from two of the other boats involved. With joined forces we tried to free the anchors from each other. From time to time it looked as if we wouldn't succeed. We also feared that the two energetic helpers might capsize with their dinghy or that the anchors might damage the dinghy. But giving up was not an option. And finally, after just under an hour, we made it. With two auxiliary lines and a lot of physical strength, we were free to set off. And the other three anchors could slumber peacefully again in the harbour basin of Orei. We are now in the city harbour of Volos and have no bad dreams about wedged anchors, because there are lazylines (murings) here. 😊

After a wonderful rest from the strong southerly wind in Karistos and the night-time bridge passage in Chalkis in the harbour of Nea Artaki, we continued north between the mainland (Attica) and Euboea. High mountains on both sides, an impressive scenery. Just like three years ago, we stopped at the fishing harbour of Loutra Edipsou and soaked our bodies in the hot springs.

From the boat, we could see the fishermen preparing their boats for the night fishing trip. Many of the men working on the boats come from Egypt. They spread out the carpet for evening prayers before setting off. We didn't need to look at our compass to know, where east was in this place. At seven o'clock in the morning (on Sunday), all the boats were back and the polystyrene boxes were packed full with the catch. With very little wind, we motored on to the north side of Euboea, between several small islets, which the locals call the ‘Greek Bahamas’. We could understand that.

What the people lying under parasols on the beach don't realize is, that there is a strong current there. Fortunately, Gisela hadn't checked beforehand how many knots the current could be. Otherwise she would have said ‘We're going round the outside’. Walter didn't say anything, but he knew: up to eight knots. Well, afterwards that was OK. But it was violent: suddenly lots of whirlpools around us, the bow of our boat was being torn back and forth. The helmswoman had to counter-steer violently. It happened very quickly and then we were through. But then the wind came up from the front at over 30 knots and the swell got stronger. No chance of gaining height under sail. So we continued to motor again. In the small harbour of the historic village of Oreoi, we then managed to ‘park’ backwards into one of the last two gaps in the pier after several attempts with a crosswind against the screw effect. Another job well done.     

In the meantime, we have travelled a long way north from Agia Marina on the island of Aegina. On the Cycladic island of Kea, we anchored nicely in the bay of Voukari and, after Walter had screwed something new to our anchor block, we were able to enjoy the beautiful landscape around us and remember the sleeping lion up on the mountain, that we had visited three years ago. 

A very strong southerly wind was forecast. We wanted to be somewhere safe. So we headed north to the south side of the island of Eböa. We were safely moored in Karistos harbour, but the storm from the south was so strong, that we spent a day guarding our boat at the pier, just like the other sailors, who had taken refuge in the harbour. Big breakers came over the breakwater and the wind brought a lot of Sahara dust with it. A bit of doomsday atmosphere.

Pure sunshine again the next day. So we set off northwards again in the Gulf of Euboea between the mainland and the island, unfortunately under motor at first. But then the wind picked up and we made good progress until just before Bufalo Bay. The small, well-protected bay was already full of anchoring boats, but we still found a spot right in front of the tavernas behind the sandbank. Another quiet night in the middle of an idyllic setting.

Stay another day or sail on? Gisela couldn't decide at first, but then we set off for the strait in Chalkis. We actually wanted to go to the marina south of the bridge, but we were told there was no room. So we decided to cross the bridge to the north the next night. The registration by e-mail worked well. This meant we didn't have to moor at the very high pier and pay at the harbour office, as we did on our first passage. Last time we had to wait until half past two until the water was still and the bridge opened. This time we were able to go through at half past eleven. With the current, it went quite quickly, but it wasn't easy to steer. We were then able to sleep peacefully at anchor in the large bay north of the town.

We are now moored in the fishing harbour of Nea Artaki (three nautical miles north of Chalkis) for the third day - to rest, but also to remove the Sahara dust from our boat and give it a thorough clean below deck. And: we discovered a problem with the power supply from land. The cause was quickly found with the help of a very nice electrician: The heating rod in the hot water boiler was almost completely clogged with limescale. When we switched on the boiler, the main fuse blew, as did the fuse in the power column on land. We were lucky again: the electrician specialised in the type of boiler we had and had the right heating element in the car. Problem solved, and immediately afterwards we washed our hair with warm water. It had been overdue for a while.

The village of Nea Artaki, not far from the highest mountain in Euboea, was founded in 1923 by Greek refugees, the Pontos Greeks. They had been expelled when Atatürk (who himself came from Thessaloniki!) came to power and the state of Turkey was formed. The 19th of May is a public holiday for the Pontos Greeks. We were able to observe how many people gathered at the small church at the harbour of Nea Artaki in the evening and a mass was celebrated. The idea of establishing an ‘ethnically pure’ state is so cruel and absurd! But as we know, these terrible attempts, which cause so much suffering, have happened time and again in history and are still happening today. 

There's nothing that doesn't happen when we're travelling with our Aglaya. When we wanted to moor in Agia Marina on the island of Aegina with the stern to the pier and let the anchor chain out, suddenly there was no more chain going out. So we ‘starved’ just before the pier and couldn't get ashore. What was going on? We have 100 metres of anchor chain and it was nowhere near out. We first checked to see if the anchor windlass fuse had blown. It hadn't. Then we checked the anchor block to see if anything was wrong. Everything was OK. There was only one thing left: the anchor chain must have jammed in the anchor locker. As the anchor locker on our boat cannot be opened from the deck, but down in the foredeck, we had to look there. We know the anchor locker well, as we clean it after every season. First of all, we clear everything out of the foredeck that is stowed there, then crawl forwards over our folding bikes and open the door. The light in the anchor locker comes on. Very convenient. And what did we see this time? There was a big knot hanging in the middle, a large tangle, as you might say. Unfortunately, we didn't take a photo of it, because: Problem recognised, but not yet solved. How do we get the tangle untangled? We managed it, but it was a feat of strength and something for the brain. Interdisciplinary expertise was required. Gisela's experience in untangling balls of wool while knitting was very helpful. And what does our anchor chain say? It stretches nicely in the water and holds our anchor. The rest lies neatly in the box again. Hopefully there's no Klabautermann up ahead having fun knotting our chain again.

After three days, the strong easterly wind died down. We said goodbye to the beautiful Oxia Bay and sailed into Messolonghi Marina in the afternoon. It was a lovely reunion - with Mimi and his crew in the marina bar, with our German friends, who were getting their boats ready for the season on land and with Berlusconi, the nine-year-old marina cat.

We took two trips to Tourlida on our bikes: it's wonderful to cycle through this fantastic lagoon landscape. And what else was going on? It was Walter's birthday! Of course we celebrated it nicely.

We actually wanted to have a new compressor installed for the fridge in Messolonghi because we thought it was using too much electricity and the thermostat wasn't always working reliably. Once again, we had a good experience with Greek craftsmen. They checked everything and realised that the compressor had too little nitrogen. They topped it up and checked that everything was working normally again, and that was it. And instead of 500 to 600 euros for a new compressor including installation, it was 50 euros in labour costs.

We spent the last night in Messolonghi in the town harbour, not a bad place either. Our next stop: the small island of Trizonia, a good 30 nautical miles to the east. We were here five years ago. There is construction going on there, but not much has changed. Simply idyllic and quiet (without cars), at least in the low season.

Galaxidy on the mainland coast was our next anchor stop. Very picturesque. And with a view of Delphi and the high Parnassos, on which snow fields were still visible. Here we registered online for the passage through the Corinth Canal and also paid online. This meant we didn't have to dock there to pay. Everything went very smoothly, but it is an expensive pleasure: the passage costs 207 euros for our boat.

The harbour of Kiato on the north coast of the Peloponnese was then our starting point for the passage through the canal. The town of Kiato has no special sights, but is a popular holiday destination for Greeks as it has beautiful beaches.

We then passed through the canal on the 9th of May, a special experience again, just like in 2020, when we came from the east.

This time we had to wait an hour and a half before entering the canal, as oncoming traffic had to pass first. But then we were able to pass through and enter the Saronic Gulf. Large ships are moored here and the smell from the refineries on the mainland wafts around your nose. So we quickly continued a little further south-east along the east coast of the Peloponnese. We are now anchored in the beautiful bay of Korfous.