Southern Port of Call

We have now taken the boat as far South as we will go. We made it to Zakynthos and covered 250 nautical miles. After a lousy sleep last night in Poros we didn’t get underway until about 1015. As we pulled up, the Aussie flotilla shepherd wished us well and said maybe he’d see us again on our return trip up. We replied that we’d like to use his barbi if we ran into him again.

Even though we had plotted our course to the West side of the island to try and get to Shipwreck Bay, the only place on my “must-see” list, we were not sure if we would make it there and then back around to Zakynthos Town at a decent hour. Getting away late meant that the winds could cause us problems on the outside of the island and there is absolutely no safe place to drop anchor for any period of time out there. It’s completely exposed and nothing but sheer cliffs and sea caves. If we did make it and then do the return trip around, we might get caught without a berth and there is only one other option on this side…and it’s small.

We thought perhaps we should head for Argistolus and spend the night, but the anchorage at the quay looks a mite sketchy in the books. We finally decided to go for it and had a backup plan to head for Ay Nicaloaus if we didn’t think we could make Zakynthos town.

A dolphin appears far off our starboard stern. It stays down for long periods and doesn’t appear to be coming closer. It is probably hunting and not traveling. This area is home to few large aquatic mammals. Once upon a time there were many dolphins, seals and even whales. But today they are in rapid decline and the Mediterranean monk seal is on the top ten most endangered animals list. The also endangered loggerhead turtle nests on Lagana beach at the Southern end of Zakynthos and nests between May and October. We doubt we will see any, but we do want to visit the area, but not by boat as it is too sensitive an area and even though there is a small anchorage in the bay, we feel it is unnecessary.

As we plotted our course we noted a shoal lying off the Southern tip of Cephalonia that shallowed to about 2-2.5 metres. We draw just under 2m…wide berth! As we motored along we saw another sailboat cutting in close. We couldn’t know if they knew of the shoal or not…and if they did, perhaps they knew they could clear it. They were also motoring and eventually we were pulling ahead of them which didn’t seem right. Looking through the glasses I thought I could see people looking over the side and they didn’t appear to be moving, but they also weren’t flagging us so we just kept an eye on them.

The waters are simply the most amazing shade of blue. I really can’t capture it on the camera no matter how hard I try. The sunlight filters through it and plays tricks on your eyes….making you think you can actually see the bottom…..wait a minute! I CAN! “Kirk! Depth?” “18 m”

We can clearly see the bottom in 18 m and deeper. I can see the rocks, fish, weeds, sand. I can see the shadow of the mast slipping along the bottom. We are fascinated by it and think perhaps this is what the other boat is also doing. Eventually we see them pull their sails and head off. They are fine. We can’t afford the time to sail or we will definitely have problems later so we continue to motor. As we round the headland the wind hits us straight on. It is cold, we are cold, the seas are getting a bit lumpier. I am snuggled under a thick fleece blanket wearing a light jacket overlaid by a windbreaker. We wonder if we are idiots to do this at this time of day. Morning is when we should be here…not after noon. We are alone on our trek. We can see a cruise ship in the distance, and a couple of tripper boats. But we are alone otherwise. We see no sailboats on the horizon. But we really want to get to this site. It is not waypointed, it is only mentioned in our books and no directions are given for safe transit so we are watchful.

Along the way I do some reading. A comment on the chart sends me to Rod Heikell’s book and clears up an unanswered question from our previous trip. That time we were constantly well off every course line we plotted on our GPS and assumed that we were missing some fudge factor, had the wrong datum…something! We have a new GPS unit this time, and it is supposedly more sensitive and we thought it might work more effectively. We also made sure that we were working in the proper datum, not an issue since the program automatically reads it from the electronic charts. We know we are working in WGS84.

The chart says:

Care is needed when using any electronic position finding equipment (LORAN, Transit, and GPS). Most of the charts for Greece were originally surveyed in the 19th century, using celestial fixes and basic triangulation techniques to determine latitude and longitude. Considerable caution needs to be exercised when navigating in the vicinity of land and dangers to navigation, and conventional means should be used for plans.

Hmmmm….. let’s dig deeper…..that sounds interesting….

Navigation around the islands and along the coast is predominantly of the eyeball variety. The ancients navigated from island to island using prominent features on the coast quite happily and this is basically what yachtsmen still do in Greece. Eyeball navigation is a much maligned art, especially now that electronic position finding equipment has arrived on the scene, but for the reasons outlined below, it is still essential to hone your pilotage skills.

For good eyeball navigation you need the facility to translate the two-dimensional world on the chart into the three-dimensional world around you. Pick out conspicuous features like a cape, an isolated house, a knoll, and visualize what these will look like in reality. Any dangers to navigation such as a reef or shoal water may need clearing bearings to ensure you stay well clear of them. Any eyeball navigation must always be backed up by dead reckonings and a few position fixes along the way.

Anyone with electronic position finding should exercise caution using it close to land or dangers to navigation. The paradox of the new equipment is that while you may know your position, often to an accuracy of 10 m or less, the chart you are plotting your position on is not accurate in terms of its latitude and longitude. Most of the charts were surveyed in the 19th century using astronomical sights and the position of a cape or a danger to navigation, while proportionally correct in relation to the land mass, may be incorrect in terms of its latitude and longitude. Consequently you are in the anomalous position of knowing your position to perhaps within 20 m, but in possession of a chart which may have inaccuracies of up to half a mile of longitude. Blind acceptance of the position from electronic position finding equipment can and has led to disaster.

OK, So, it was not us last time…and those apparent tracks onto land on our charts now make some degree of rationalized sense. We have become very proficient at “eyeball navigation!”

One other bit that makes me smile (because we familiarized ourselves with it last time) in Rod Heikell’s book is this:

The Ionian only has a few isolated dangerous rocks and reefs and with care these are normally easily spotted. However, this absence of large areas of shoal water or extensive reefs can make the navigator lazy in his craft. The clarity of the water in the Mediterranean means you can easily spot rocks and shallows from the colour of the water. Basically deep blue is good, deep green means it is getting shallow, lighter green means watch out, and brown lets you identify species of molluscs firsthand.

As we motor along we debate the position of the bay we seek. We have no coordinates (but apparently maybe that’s a good thing?) and so we rely on our eyes and a chart. We see a tripper boat disappear around a corner and think this is a good sign. They bring tourists out to this spot by boat, there is little other reason to see a boat out here. The water is deep right up the the bottom of the cliffs where it shallows quickly. That amazing aquamarine blue reflects up onto the white cliffs in the most amazing way. When the seagulls fly low over it, their bellies are blue from the reflection.

Finally we are sure we can see the cliffs indent into what we hope is the bay we are hunting for, and we are not disappointed. As we round the corner we can see two tripper boats in close to shore. The sea flattens out inside the narrow bay and the water turns aquamarine….getting shallower…but still 20m. I move to the bow and con us in. Not that I really needed to. In the end we could have dropped the anchor, backed right up to shore and practically stepped off. The beach shelved off that quickly. In the end we dropped the anchor into 7m of crystal clear water onto a sand and pebble bottom….we won’t be staying long so we aren’t worried. It’s not blowing in here and the sea is calm…unlike a mere 100m out. We can’t be bothered with the motor for the dinghy either. We will just row….or rather…Kirk will.

As we row ashore, both tripper boats leave. We have it all to ourselves for a short period. If heaven existed, this, quite simply, would be it. A great hulking carcass of a ship rusts away on shore under cliffs that are so sheer that it is impossible to reach this place by any means other than boat. Standing there, the cliffs actually lean in on you. The white sand gives way to pebble and small rounded stone. All of it bleached to the whitest white imaginable. The gulls sweep along the cliffs and are turned blue by the reflected waters. We are in awe of the beauty of this small space and the apparent danger of the coast as evidence by the decaying ship high above the waterline. A short time later we can hear the thrum of an engine and our solitude is broken. We head for the dinghy and are off the beach before the boat disgorges its occupants who hoot and holler to hear their voices echo in the confined space. Different worlds…from us it only drew awe and we hardly spoke while in the presence of those ancient cliffs.

Back on board, the anchor comes up effortlessly lending credence to the knowledge we had that there is no tenable anchorage on these shores. The wind is now directly behind us and as such, the temperature rises. We no longer need our windbreakers and fleece. We are strapped for time, and pull the jib to see if we can eke out a bit of extra speed. The wind is fickle and won’t fill our sail fully unless we tack. But as we round the point and alter our course it fills and we pick up a bit of extra speed. At least for awhile…eventually it drops from 16 knots to 4 and the sail hangs limp. In it comes.

We pass Ay Nikolaous and decide that we can make Zakynthos Town. We see no competition for space out here and decide to risk it. This will be the latest we have hit a port yet, but it is not a major charter destination so we should be OK. As we come close we can see many ferries. The guides say that two years ago there was a marina underway but that as in so many other locations…things aren’t finished. We enter the harbour and the “marina” is not an option. We can see several masts and head for that corner. Three men stand on the quay and there is a water truck and a fuel truck. This is excellent because we need fuel and had planned to get it here. We filled our water prior to leaving Poros so we are fine in that respect. A man in a red shirt sees me standing on the bow and points to a spot, I thumbs up and we spin and approach. He grabs the line from Kirk and assists us in docking.

Once docked he asks how long we are planning on staying. We say probably two nights. He says there is electricity and water if we need it, and it will be 40 Euros for the two nights. Seems a bit steep, but we have no choice really. We pay and he hands us a receipt for 10 Euros. I say to Kirk that I am rather certain we have just been ripped off. We fill the tank and the price for fuel at least seems appropriate. We ask about showers and are told they are 2 Euros per person. They are at the end of the quay. Seems a pittance to pay to be able to actually stand under running water without having to turn it off between dampenings. We take his key and say we will shower later. He seemed to want us to take them then, but we say no.

After being fueled and powered up, a fellow comes over from a boat just down and asks how much we just paid….now we know we got ripped off. He said they tried to charge him and he said no, he would go to the port authorities. They argued with him, he persevered, the authorities did not charge him…but the men at the dock threatened to cut his lines.

We feel cheated and go for a walk. We do sort of feel as if we have paid a bribe to someone to not damage our boat….and if that’s the case, so be it. We agree that we’d rather have paid than be afraid to leave the boat and find it vandalized or floating away. Later we go and take a shower and in all honesty, that alone was worth the money. There is no wifi out here on the far end of the quay. We will have to go looking for a signal elsewhere tomorrow.

After two weeks of small towns and quiet quays, Zaknythos is an assault on our senses. It is large, busy, noisy… for the first time in almost two weeks we plug in the iPod and listen to music.

We had thought we might be able to find a package tour to Olympia from here, but a quick check in town reveals that they go on Mondays. We don’t plan on staying that long and think perhaps we might take a ferry and rent scooters on the other side. We will look into both things further tomorrow. We do not want to take the boat across to Kilini. We will look for an alternative.

We opened a package of skewered meat that we thought was pork and we debated what kind of meat it was until we finally ate it, then we discovered it was chicken. And now we are exhausted from our longest day on the water. Good night all.

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