Sail Crete

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Sunday, October 18
I am wide awake at three o’clock in the morning, sitting in my little cabin wishing it wasn’t a bad idea to go exploring by myself at this hour. It is the first time I have been truly awake since Thursday. I really had no idea how long the trip here would take! We left around nine thirty Thursday evening and arrived in Rhodes, where we picked up our boat, yesterday at four in the afternoon. It’s like Friday never happened! I did write a little yesterday, but I was so tired that my entry is nearly illegible. There is such a sense of disorientation when I fly, perhaps more and more so. Anyway, long trip aside, just the fact that I am here is surreal! Visiting Greece has been on my list of things to do since childhood and this trip materialized so quickly that I’m having a hard time grounding myself. It’s like someone picked me up by the scruff and tossed me onto a boat in the Greek Isles and said, “Here you go! Have at it!” Wow.
There was a really neat little museum in the airport that held artifacts from the excavation that they did prior to building. It shocks me that they still build anywhere around here, actually, as there is sooooo much ancient history that you can’t help but dig it up. We had a bit of time before the flight to Rhodes, so I got to look around.
The harbour in Rhodes, even at the beginning of the off-season, is full up and there is a gorgeous Byzantine fort at the end of the breakwater. We walked up there and there is also an old, rusty cannon barrel lying in the rocks of the breakwater. Our boat is a 46-foot sailboat with the mast sort of center forward and a jib at the bow. And the space in the cabin is gigantic! We have four cabins, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a table space, and a navigation system. On deck there is a really nice cockpit with a table and benches in front of the two steering wheels. The reason we need two mystifies me, but hey, that’s alright. Two boats over is a sailboat filled with a bunch of large, hairy, Russian speaking men and pretty young girls in bikinis and shorts that cover less than some panties. Huh. They played music allllll nightlong.

Later that night.
Ok, so I went back to sleep and woke up at a reasonable hour, about 7:30. Mike and Chris were already up, chatting away on the deck above me, so I joined them and we hung out until Karleen got up. We then had breakfast at a little café, bought groceries, and hit the…how does one hit the trail on water? Anyway, we immediately lost the part of the deck that covers the exit at the rear, which was a great start, but that was the only difficulty, I think. I spent a lovely day on the bow, towel spread, lotion applied, book and Chris’ camera at hand. We pulled into a really pretty little cove town to dock as the sun was setting. Everyone here docks with the stern to the dock, which is challenging. It took us three tries and assistance to get it, but perhaps we’ll be better next time. Dinner at another, lovelier café. This one is the kind of place that I could see Emma running one day. The entire kitchen was open and uncomplicated, the food the same. Many of the meals were grilled on a wood grill on the patio. The lamb chops, which I had, had been butchered the day before by the owner’s father-in-law, and (this Emma would hate) there were little kitties all over, begging. I didn’t succumb, but the other tables did. The water ought to be crystal clear in the morning when it’s light. I’m going to try to get up around sunrise to get photos. There is a long wide bank built out to the shore so that all of the cafes are built out, almost into the ocean. In front of them all the village kids were playing soccer or hide and seek, and the adults (not the tourists) were sitting in the cafes playing cards and drinking. It’s very lovely here. Hmmm, one more little mishap. It seems that the shower handle at the stern, that controls the spout where you can wash the salt off after swimming, jiggles down on it’s own if you motor for a while, so we have emptied one of our two water tanks. 125 litres of fresh water out in the Med. No wonder all the fish are dead!

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