On our last day in Lakka Bay, where Fraser left you in the previous blog, we decided to take a bus trip to the picturesque town of Gaios, further south on the island of Paxos. We could have sailed there of course, but we were able to demonstrate to Katrina why we try to avoid Gaios in the busy season. While we sipped beers and iced tea, we watched boats trying to leave the quayside only to discover that other boats had been playing a game of Cat’s Cradle with the anchor chains. The poor boat in the picture above was a victim of novice crew on another boat that had well and truly crocheted together their chains. They did eventually manage to free themselves, and later turned up next to us on the quay in Lakka Bay.
The bus trip itself was an adventure. On the way there, we had a giant, luxury coach which made the narrow, winding roads interesting! The above photo shows a stand-off (one of many) between the coach driver and a terrified hire car driver as we passed through the tiny village of Longos.
We arrived back to the boat in time for the wind to pick up again, just as a Sailing Holidays flotilla of 10 boats came in. As all our immediate neighbours had left, we felt a little vulnerable watching boat after boat zig-zagging backwards, fighting the gusts of wind. We did our best to help, catching lines and encouraging some of the less-experienced skippers with tactful bits of advice, such as, “Stop!” The flotilla’s lead crew had been delayed out at sea, fixing an engine in one of the charter boats, so these lot were on their own for a while. Once the lead crew did turn up, using the Sailing Holidays signature move of charging their boat forwards into a non-existent gap between two of their flotilla boats until they jammed solid, all became much more organised. They’re always a pleasure to watch as they sort and encourage their boats safely in tricky conditions.
One of the last boats in was the boat we’d seen struggling to free their anchor in Gaios. When they first arrived, they tried anchoring out in the bay, but as it was pretty choppy by then they didn’t realise that they’d picked a large clump of seagrass for their anchor, so as the wind got up they started to drag, causing them to panic. By now, we were willing them an easy run of luck as they’d had an awful day already. Eventually, they managed to reverse in next to us, and once they were secure their crew downed a couple of celebratory beers! We had a last meal in our favourite restaurant in Lakka, Alexandros, followed by an early night as we planned to leave early the next morning for Petriti.
Having survived the early start and the wash from fast ferries, we were delighted to see dolphins racing towards us as we entered Petriti Bay. There were several quite small ones, taking a moment out to play in our bow wave before getting on with the important business of feeding again. Such a joy, and it always feels like good luck when we see these wonderful creatures.
We let Katrina choose the restaurant, and she loves fish so we ate at Limanaki Fish Taverna (highly recommended!), where Katrina demonstrated great skill in eating fish without choking on the bones. She left so little that even the taverna cats were disappointed!
The next morning, we had a lazy start as we only had a couple of hours’ sail to Mandraki Marina to achieve. We went ashore for breakfast in a local hotel just off the front and enjoyed a Small Breakfast (me), Medium Breakfast (Fraser) and a large Full English Breakfast (Katrina). We felt a bit like the Three Bears from Goldilocks.
The trip to Mandraki was uneventful, but we took time on the way to motor close in to the coast so Katrina could see the sights, including the planes coming in to land almost over the top of us. We also saw the birthplace of the late Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Philip, who was born on the dining table in the palace of Mon Repos, just south of Corfu town!
We also saw an unusually-shaped superyacht on our way into the marina. We couldn’t decide which end was the front and which was the back!
Mandraki Harbour was much calmer this time around, and the plank was therefore easier to negotiate. We had been telling Katrina about our favourite restaurant on the island of Corfu, a place called Zorba’s in Gouvia, and she naturally wanted to experience this so that evening we caught the #7 bus and introduced her to the giant pork chop.
I have to admit that she did an impressive job: far better than I managed The plate in these photos is closer to the size of a turkey serving plate, not the size of a normal dinner plate. The chop feels as if it should have come from a large cow rather than a pig.
On the way back into Corfu town on the bus, Katrina spotted an advert for Corfu Aquarium, which we’d never even heard of. A little research told us that it would make a good day trip for Katrina’s last day with us, so she booked tickets online for the Saturday, and we researched the buses. Unfortunately the internet was misleading about the location of the bus station, but as we ended up very tight for time walking to where we believed the bus could be found, it was lucky that I had the bright idea of getting a taxi to cover the distance faster. The taxi driver knew better than did a certain search engine, and took us to a bright, modern bus station out of town, where we boarded a lovely, air conditioned bus for the 50-minute journey across the island (most of the time was taken up by loading more passengers at dozens of random places).
The aquarium was small but absolutely worth visiting. All the fish tanks were perfect for the species they held, and the residents were clearly happy (or as happy as a fish can appear to be!). There were also reptiles, again well kept. The guide we had (Sonia?) was brilliant, informative, and funny. Afterwards we swam around the rocky bay with snorkels and were able to identify many of the fish we’d just learned about in their wild habitat. Once we’d had a light lunch in the cafe, Fraser and Katrina decided to walk up the hill behind us where there is a monastery (closed for siesta, or maybe for prayer time). They had spectacular views of area around Paleokastritsa.
After a lovely meal in Corfu town on the way back to the boat, we spent the last night together, and were treated to a spectacular sunset.
It was with great sadness that we saw Katrina drive off in a taxi to the airport the next morning. She was an absolute joy to have aboard the boat, never complaining even when she was covered in bruises from hitting herself on unexpected bits of boat. She always made us smile with her cheeriness and can-do attitude, plus we only had to show her how to do something once and she had it instantly. She’d be a great permanent crew member if only her husband could spare her to us for longer! I’m sure Peter was delighted to see her back though, as he’d been juggling his full-time job with all the household chores and with caring for their menagerie while Katrina was away.
Once she was away, we untied Barberry and started heading south again towards Preveza where we are collecting Patrick, our youngest sprog, next week. We spent the first night anchored in Petriti Bay again with a forecast of pretty much no wind and settled weather. With this in mind, we anchored pretty close to shore, with a safety margin beneath our keel of around 70cm (less than the 100cm we usually aim for). This turned out to be a mistake!
Luckily we always eat early, around 6pm, so we rowed back to the boat just as the wind began to swirl around, which we hadn’t expected. A short while later it was screaming through the rigging and the waves were building. Our shallow anchoring position no longer seemed such a good idea! When a couple of deep thumps rang through the boat, marking the keel bouncing off the sandy seabed in the wave troughs, Fraser and I sprang into action like the team we’ve become over the years. Engine on, windless on, and we lifted the anchor and motored into deeper water. Anchor down, snubber on, reverse gently to set it into the good holding seabed, and then on watch in the cockpit (engine still running in case of emergency) to witness the carnage all over the rest of the bay.
Four boats (at least) dragged their anchors in the sudden strong winds, but many of the crews were still ashore and happily eating their dinner in various tavernas and restaurants, oblivious to the chaos. Cue panic as they tried to get back through the rough seas to their stricken boats. One boat dragged onto the rocks at the eastern end of the small bay and we watched helplessly as she hit them again and again. We were too far away to help, and our dinghy was already up on the davits ready for our early departure the next morning. By the time we got it down and the engine on, it would have been too late. Just as we were deciding if there was anything we could do, the man in the photo above sped past us in a fast RIB and he single-handedly saved the boat on the rocks, somehow managing to get her engine started and her anchor up, using his RIB to tow her stern off the rocks. It seemed he did the work of three, but eventually he drove her clear of further danger and anchored her in a safe place. As he passed us, we clapped and cheered, and he shouted that it wasn’t his boat, but he couldn’t see it suffer. He then went off to save a second boat whose foresail had come unfurled in the wind and was thrashing itself against the wire stays. By then, though, it seemed his outboard was out of petrol so the poor man had to row in those steep seas to get ashore again.
Several of the boats that had dragged just motored around outside the bay until the wind eventually eased, well after dark, before re-anchoring. I think we all learned several lessons that night. Fraser and I learned not to assume that the forecast will bear any resemblance to reality (which we kinda knew, but ignored), and that we need to keep to a safer depth when we anchor. We had an 8.5-hour motor the next day to Cleopatra Marina in perfect calm, windless conditions. Once tied up in the marina, with the help of marineros, we rushed to the showers and enjoyed getting properly clean again after some stressful and sweaty experiences! On our way to Preveza we heard on the VHF of yet another disaster behind us in Petriti Bay. A Pan Pan from the coastguard told us that a boat at anchor in Petriti was on fire with no one aboard. It’s always sad to hear of a boat being damaged, but we heard later that the fire had been dealt with and the yacht was being towed to Corfu for repairs. Our thoughts are with her owners at this awful time.
I’ll leave you with this image: poor old Barberry looking like a derelict as we use her to dry all our washing! Fraser can take over next week to tell you what we get up to when Patrick arrives.