As Fraser mentioned last week, we spent one night in a heavenly anchorage with clear water for snorkelling and a lovely, quiet beach. The next morning, with our supplies running low, we upped anchor and motored the short distance to Abelaki Bay, one of our favourite spots. When we were here a month or so ago Maria, the owner of the Minas taverna, had told us that her brother would be getting married on 12th October, and that we were definitely invited! This is yet another example of the wonderful Greek hospitality known as philoxenia.
With typical British/Irish caution, we’re a little wary of encroaching, but Maria was emphatic: we must come to the wedding! She proudly showed us the fresh whole lambs that had just been delivered for the feast, and the charcoal grill upon which they’ll be spit roasted.
We had arrived a couple of days before the wedding, and immediately fell into our favourite activities in this, our favourite bay. The sea was especially clear during this visit, so we spent part of each day snorkelling, chasing fish, looking for octopi. We did find a tiny baby cuttlefish, hiding in the warm, shallow waters of the beach, but no octopi this time.
As we’d taken lines ashore (tied to rocks, NOT trees!), we had created our own private swimming area, safe from being accidentally run down by other boats as we floated around with our faces in the water. Fraser spent some time in the summer at home designing a great system for our shorelines, with quick-release clips and strong webbing straps that are resistant to chafe from the rocks.
Fraser also decided that the weather was now cool enough (mid 20s Celsius) to allow him to go for a run without dropping dead from heatstroke. He recorded his track from Abelaki Bay to the next door bay and back again.
Despite the cooler weather, he still managed to get pretty sweaty, and was glad to cool off afterwards with a lovely swim before we took the dinghy ashore to Minas taverna for showers followed by dinner.
For me, the walk over the hill to Vathy is enough exercise. There’s a little shortcut path we take that meanders between bushes and stone terraces and cuts off some hot, steep road walking, but it’s still a considerable climb up and then down again into the next bay. Usually we follow the road into the village for the last section, down a really steep hill that plays havoc with my arthritic knees, but on one visit, we rediscovered a stair case that took us to the top without the risk of being mown down by cars.
We usually walked over to Vathy every day, sometimes buying an ice cream to eat while we watch other sailors struggling to Med moor along the town quay (occasionally even helping them by catching lines). There are three small supermarkets in the village, with very limited provisions available at high cost, since this small island has to import everything bu boat from the mainland. Fraser had run out of breakfast cereal, so he bought some granola in the shop, although he was a little shocked at the price.
One job that we had been putting off was a trip to the top of the mast by Fraser to check the aerial connections for our VHF radio. This allows us to communicate with other boats and with harbours, marinas, and the occasion bridge (Rion Bridge). Using a splitter, the same aerial allows us to transmit and receive information via AIS (Automatic Identification System) so we can see how close we’ll come to other boats. During this trip, we’d noticed that our range had decreased for both radio and AIS, so we suspected a dodgy connection somewhere. With all the easy-to-reach connections checked, the only option was for Fraser to ascend the mast using a bosun’s chair to inspect the wiring.
All his hard work paid off, and we now have much better range again!
Our mast has steps attached to it, which certainly makes this exercise easier, but when he’s at the top of the mast, the slightest movement from the boat is magnified by the mast swinging. Although the above drone image shows Fraser whizzing around the anchorage in our dinghy, there are always people heading ashore, so there was plenty of wash to rock Barberry while he clung to the mast like a monkey.
On the day of the wedding, Fraser walked over to Vathy on his own to see the bride and groom emerging from the little church in the town (I’d already done the walk once that day, and the knees said an emphatic NO!). Greeks love celebrating with noise, so there were church bells and car horns tooting all over the tiny town. Flower petals and rice were thrown at the couple with joyful abandon.
Afterwards, a noisy convoy made its way across the hill to Abelaki Bay and we took to our dinghy so we’d be there to greet the wedding party.
We lurked in the background, or tried to, but Maria and her husband soon dragged us into the centre of the party and encouraged us to sit with the “real” guests before plying us with wine. We weren’t the only sailor guests: Jonathon had been peacefully watching the Americas Cup and drinking beer on his boat, Nota Bene, but was phoned up and ordered over to join the fun. He was then despatched to fetch Garrett, a gentle, quiet Dutch sailor, who joined us at the table from his boat, Beppy.
If you’ve ever been to a Greek wedding, you’ll already know that there was enough food for double the number of guests, washed down with endless booze. We began with a course of various salads with bread and tzatziki dip, then came pastitsio, a sort of lasagne-like dish with pasta, meat and cheese (extremely filling). After this came the lamb, huge, steaming platefuls of meat including virtually every organ and body part.
Dessert isn’t a big thing in Greece, but the main course was followed on this occasion by delicious cake (which I was, sadly, too stuffed to finish), and then the dancing began.
The bride is from Georgia, so the table next to us was filled with her family and friends, who seemed to have immense appetites as they continued to be served with food long after everyone else was filled to bursting (see waiters in above photo, still carrying food to their table).
One of the wonderful things about this Greek/Georgian wedding was that we also got to see some carefree Georgian dancing. We also got to see some interesting wedding customs which seemed to involve a sort of forward limbo, the aim of which was to pick up a shot glass (filled with spirits) by mouth from the ground, no hands, and then drink it.
For me, the highlight of the evening was probably the dad-style dancing. In our own culture, this can be toe-curlingly embarrassing but here it was incredible.
You can see, in the above photo, some evidence of plate throwing, but the shattered remains were constantly being swept to the side into huge piles so they didn’t cause trouble for the dancers. Initially they were throwing plates made from “biscuit” (unglazed pottery that doesn’t form dangerous shards when smashed) but before long those had run out and the restaurant’s own glazed plates were getting chucked around, adding to the hazards of crossing the dance floor. After that they graduated to wine glasses, then ice buckets (which ricocheted in unexpected directions). When we crawled back to our dinghy (or someone’s dinghy, anyway) around one in the morning, the party was still going strong. Apparently Jonno left at 0400 but we know he reasonably okay because he sent us a text later that day to declare existence of life.
The next day, unsurprisingly, the taverna was closed while Maria swept up all the broken crockery and finished the washing up. During the plate throwing, Garrett had turned to me and said that he’d probably be sent off the next week to Nidri to buy them more plates for the restaurant! That evening, the taverna opened again, and we drifted in, not really expecting dinner, but Maria was bright eyed and bushy tailed and very keen to take order. Apparently she’d made it to Mass at 0900 that morning, but she said that apart from the priest, she’d been the only person there.
It was finally time for us to move on, so we said an emotional goodbye to Maria and her family, having gifted her with a bottle of Black Bush whiskey (pretty much all we had as we keep so little on the boat due to space limitations) and a money present for the bride and groom. We brought in our shore lines (Fraser swims to set them up and again to release them), raised the anchor, and headed south towards Sivota, but that’s a story for another day.