The idea formed in the ice-cold heart of the six-month Scandinavian winter; there was a longing for warm winds, blue seas, fragrant forests, and sun-drenched coasts before the next dark time came upon us. The Dragon Drascombe ads in the Drascombe Association News had worked their way into the subconscious, so from snow-bound mountains we made a booking for the autumn.
The architect and the submariner flew in from Oslo, the doctor was delayed by several hours on her flight from London. Philip’s organizational skill and coordination of taxi drivers ensured we all came together in time and place. Some hours on a Saturday morning were spent with us to ensure that we were agile enough and safe enough to be let loose on Heulwen (sunshine), Philip’s pride & joy, and our designated Lugger.
We tied up at the Gialos taverna and made a quick plan over lunch about how to let ourselves loose upon the briny main. Proceeding to sea out through the Nidry channel, we used the most un-seamanlike language; can you undo the bit of red string, hold this white rope for a second, you’ll find it near the sharp end, do I go in front of that white boat with the red flag, and so on…..
After an hour of working south against gentle breezes, we found a small cove with a narrow beach and ran Heulwen’s bow gently up the gravelly sand. Our boat secured, we swam in a warm blue sea, enjoyed the warmth of the Greek sun, and made a plan for evening.
Although we were sailing in late September and near the end of the season, there was plenty of warmth, but also other traffic. For some reason yachts don’t seem to go all the way into the bay to anchor, but place themselves randomly across the entrance channel. Entering or leaving port keeps the helm on their toes.
Our accommodation was a two bedroom apartment at Geni Gardens, run by an efficient and helpful Austrian mum. Mooring was bow-to a floating pontoon, often in a cross wind, and was a good exercise in getting Heulwen’s crew of three to work together.
Once secured we retired for a swift G&T before ambling along a quiet road to find a relaxed dinner at a cluster of tavernas. One can be apprehensive about the noise from holiday hot-spots, but I was pleasantly surprised at how quiet this area is. There’s occasional disco beat when sailing too close to party boats or hip-hotels, but there seems to be an unwritten rule here that you keep your noise to yourself.
And so passed our days; increasingly long voyages to hilltop villages and sun-kissed beaches, all the time becoming more proficient in our sailing techniques and coordination. Phil ensured the boat was topped up with fuel, that we had a chart and map, and exactly the right gear. He checked us in each day, and gave advice on places to visit and routes to take.
On departing Geni each day we would motor past Paradise Bay, through the narrows at Steno (stenosis is a modern medical term for narrowing) and by now under sail, we rounded the woodland promontory that forms the Eastern gate to the entry to Vlicho Bay. Through the trees, beyond the tiny church of Agia Kyriaki, one can just make out the grey obelisk which marks the Villa Dorpfeld.
Archaeologist Wilhelm Dorpfeld was a pioneer of stratigraphic excavation, a modern technique which takes account of the age of sedimentary deposits. He was directly involved in the excavation of some of the most significant sites of Ancient Greece, including the Acropolis in Athens, Tyrins and Mycenae on the Argolid and Troy in modern day Hisarlik, Turkey.
Through his interpretation of topographical descriptions in certain passages of Homer’s Iliad, Dorpfeld believed that the bay of Nidri was Ithaca, the home of Odysseus. He, of course, was the warrior-king who became ancient history’s most famous dawdler, taking 10 years to return from the Trojan wars while his long-suffering wife, Penelope, had to invent increasingly complex deceptions to fend off the many suitors who were trying to get their hands on her famous husband’s kingdom.
Such was his conviction that Lefkada was the home of Odysseus, Dorpfeld spent his latter years excavating on Lefkada and built his villa there. He uncovered several sites of interest near Nydri, including the remains of buildings from the third millenium BCE and a farm house from the Hellenistic period which was built as a “Pyrgospiti” or Tower House.
A footpath running northwards from the Geni Gardens along the coast brings one to his grave, guarding the bay of Nidri for eternity, shortly before reaching the church of Agia Kyriaki.
The end of September was a fine time to visit. Although this area is likely one of Greece’s tourism hotspots, the crowds had gone home by late August. It wasn’t deserted, and neither were the seas. Depending on wind and time of day, we needed our wits about us when crossing the tracks of other, usually much larger boats. Each day was a learning tutorial on another aspect of the international collision regulations, extracted from deep in very old memories. If one isn’t so used to well used waters, it’s worth reviewing beforehand the rules that relate to sailing vessels, power boats, and fishing craft. The breezes varied. We were sailing mostly in a large bay surrounded by mountains, so it wasn’t unlike lake sailing. Winds could spring up from nowhere, die down, change directions, or throw some maliciousness into the day, as they so choose. We became adept at setting and reducing sail, but also talked about the relative mischief quotients of the ancient Norse and Olympian gods. In conclusion, we felt that the ancient Greeks had a lot less help from their deities than the Vikings could expect. In these relaxed climes, it seems the gods had more energy to play cat and mouse with those who dared venture into Poseidon’s realm.
Whether or not we’d followed briefly in Odyssey’s wake was another discussion. Voyaging as far as Ithaca and Kefalonia, although tempting, was probably a bit too much for a day-trip from our base. A week’s sailing in these waters, with their history and more dependable winds is a future possibility.
Our farthest from base was the channel to south west Meganisi with its sea cliffs and caves, before reaching west into Sivota for lunch. There are public jetties with tavernas, though sometimes use of a jetty is dependent on lunching at the taverna which owns it. This was not a problem, as the owners were invariably helpful.
The great advantage of a Drascombe is its shallow draft. Beaches could be crowded, and large boats with boarding ramps take significant numbers of young tourists (and their significant noise) to popular beaches. Just around the corner there was usually another beach, sometimes only wide enough for a small boat, but easy enough to enter and secure into for an exclusive experience.
Now that our cold-hearted norse gods are setting the scene for another winter, we’re planning a similar venture next year. We have youths in the family who would appreciate the warmth and the challenges of such a sailing holiday and we hope to bring them too. A big thank you to Phil Osborne; this holiday was everything promised and hoped for.
