Anchor bays and a chase in Meganisi

We are back in the Ionian Sea. In the summery warm Ionian Sea with daily temperatures of 30 to 35 degrees and even the nights remain above 20 degrees. The temperatures are simply perfect. The weather charts show 13-14 hours of sunshine a day and we haven’t seen a drop of rain since 1 June. The sea has also warmed up as if on cue, we are measuring between 24 and 27 degrees. Too warm, as the climatologists say. But another upgrade on my personal scale from ‘refreshing’ to ‘pleasant’.

The weather systems have established themselves: there is the moderate Ionian Sea with predominantly little wind and the well-ventilated Aegean Sea, with mostly strong to very strong Meltemi winds – throughout the summer. The dichotomy can be clearly seen on the weather chart.

Red Aegean Sea, blue/green Ionian sea – anyday

We are preparing for a family visit. Our daughter and grandchildren are coming to visit us during the school holidays, which is the high-high season. You can’t make the kids happier than with clear water and plenty of time for swimming. Strong wind sailing à la Aegean is less appealing. That’s why we opted for kids’ summer holidays in the Ionian Sea. There is no better place for stress-free summer sailing – and word has got around.

Ormos Oxia

After the marina our days in Messolonghi, we were looking for some nature again in an anchorage bay. Ormos Oxia is perfect for this. It’s a bay that is still part of the Messolonghi nature reserve. There are many fish farms and shy seals in the area. Otherwise there is only Giannis’ beach bar and a lot of silence.

Magic Ormos Oxia

Unfortunately, we could only stay one night because we now have to sail anti-cyclically again to avoid the hordes of charter sailors and flotillas. It’s like little kittens: one or two are cute, but a dozen suck.

We wanted to spend a few days in Vathy in Ithaca – also to finally eat some delicious food and visit a hairdresser. In the season, it’s easy to find space there on Fridays and Saturdays. From Monday to Wednesday, the charming little village in the bay is flooded with charterers. The 15 anchored boats become 49, plus even more ships at the docks.

We anchored in the muddy bottom off the town and enjoyed the mix of village life with tavernas, swimming in the bay off Vathy and a few hikes, which of course always ended in the water. In Vathy we met Raymonde and Guy from Luxembourg and so the number of Luxembourg boats briefly doubled by 100%.

Some of our sailing friends take a break from sailing in July and August and park their boats somewhere. For some it’s too hot – but for everyone it’s too crowded and then too annoying.

Kastos Island

From Ithaca we visited Kastos, the smaller and flatter of the twin islands off the mainland. Kastos is a tiny village, but very popular with charterers who mostly arrive on Mondays. The second island, Kalamata, is on the charter companies’ recommendation list. Kastos is more of an ‘insider tip’, but many boats still come here. We found a place in one of our favourites, Wasp Bay. A bay with a little more marine life than usual and clear water. Nice for swimming in a secluded bay where charterers rarely stray. There is little room for free anchoring due to seagrass. But a very ‘self-confident’ charterer promptly set his 45-foot cat on the rocks, which reduced the previously exuberant mood of the countless fellow sailors to icy recording studio silence.

In contrast, the Italian skipper of the Lothian Sky, moored with shore lines, laid about 80-100 metres of chain across the bay at a depth of 5 metres, marked with an anchor buoy. Not very charming for others looking for a spot. So – it’s not always just charterers.

There are plenty of beautiful and secluded anchorages along Kastos Island, so you should always be able to find a nice spot even in the high season.

Mytikas – Mainland

Then it was time for some unnecessary weather for a change. 1 metre waves and 6 to 7 Bft winds, depending on the weatherman. We had had enough of Wasp Bay and looked for and found a safe spot for ‘the weather’. Mytikas, a small town on the mainland, was the place of our choice. An enormous anchorage, which another 31 boats had chosen and anchored themselves in the mud of the seabed. There was still room for 50 more.

Mytikas from Sea, the other two are showing the same taverna, from sea and from the terrace

Ansichten von Mytikas – der Dock ist schon überschwemmt und nicht mehr zu retten

It turned out as it should, except for the Greek weather “Poseidon” and three other models that had no wind forecast at all. I guess I misunderstood the Poseidon weather page. It’s probably not a weather forecast at all, but meteorological comedy. Poseidon spoke of 5 knots of wind, in the end we had 30 knots and not half a metre of wave. It was enough to fray our next Luxembourg flag. They are extremely wind-shy, not made for any kind of wind. But who needs an indoor flag? Ka said they had poor ‘flutter dynamics’. There’s nothing like expert knowledge. We now only have one last spare on board for the rest of the season – that will have to do. Otherwise we’ll go fringing.

Chefs of the world, come to Greece

In Mytikas, we met Mila and Hansi from the German vessel Rune and enjoyed a good Greek dinner together. And this is a good opportunity for a global appeal: chefs of the world, please come to Greece. This country needs chefs who can cook something other than traditional Greek. What we wouldn’t give for something Asian, Italian (not pizza and pasta), Spanish or French. Anything, as long as it’s not traditional Greek. We don’t have to read menus any more, everyone cooks the same thing anyway. Please, chefs of the world, come to Greece and make this country an even more beautiful place.

Meganisi

When the wind and waves died down again, we made our way to Meganisi, a small and indented island ‘in the middle’. Very popular and therefore very crowded in summer. This time we were tactically skilful and used our anti-cyclical strategy. In the most beautiful and popular bay of all bays, we found a perfect anchorage without shore lines, at the end of the bay. Atherions Bay is quite deep and if you anchor at 8-10 metres, you have found a shallow anchorage.

Acro bar on the top and a view to the anchorage

Meganisi is a lovely little island. The bays are surrounded by greenery, there are two small villages and an incredible number of busy crickets. In Atherions Bay there are two tavernas right by the water and the Acro Bar with a fantastic view high up on the mountain. At our anchorage at the far end of the bay, we repeatedly had to chase away adventurous sailors. All in all, I would not recommend a visit to Meganisi. The stress caused by other boats is not worth it. The following incident explains why.

Chase in Meganisi

Then came a charter Bali with an Italian crew. They wanted to drop their anchor right on top of ours. ‘We just want to swim for a few hours,’ said Marco, the skipper, uncomprehendingly as we shooed them away. Then they dropped their anchor in front of a Frenchman and were in the water faster than the anchor could touch the deep seabed.

Minutes later, the large cat, with no crew on board, drifted towards the Frenchman and rammed into his bow. The owner Jean-Paul was not on board, but our Norwegian neighbors and we took photos. Marco, the remarkably clumsy skipper, anchored the boat again a few meters away. We naturally thought that they would wait – as decency would dictate – until the French returned. Indeed they arrived a short time later, but Marco & Co made no effort to report. Worse still. While the nice Norwegian Ingrid brought the photos to the aggrieved skipper, the rogue set off to leave the bay. Without further notice.

What a pathetic little sausage – or should I say mortadella? I didn’t have time to put on my Zorro outfit, but I jumped into our dinghy and peered after him. At the end of the bay, I stopped the boat, put on my meanest look and told him to come back. Not so easy, especially the ‘ladies’ on board were reluctant and acted as if I wanted to attack them. ‘Nothing-a happened, don’t-a worry!’. The Frenchman saw it differently. While I lay next to the cat and waited for the ‘rogue’ to get on board, his helmsman almost rammed a German motorboat.

I took the ‘skipper’, who didn’t even know the name of his charter company, to Jean-Paul and handed him over. It’s really bad that such honks are allowed to hire boats. But then to behave so shabbily – even skipper training doesn’t help. But yet another pleasing chapter in the endless story of helpfulness among sailors. /Holger Binz