Reckless Poseidon

Our sailing adventures this year have been peppered with surprises – most good, a few bad. The worst was obviously the earthquake that hit Plomari and terrified the living daylights out of us. Our friend, Gerhard Euler, wrote to us just after the earthquake and the title of this blog is thanks to him:

"Wow, so reckless Poseidon has frightened you. It is not for nothing that he has the epithet of earth-shaker! But if you have survived such a terrifying event without damage, it is remembered as an adventure. 

Perhaps Henry should sacrifice regularly to Poseidon. However, a glass of wine is not enough! I believe the sailors of the ancient world sunk horses in the sea."

Unfortunately Henry did not sacrifice his horses, and a few days ago reckless Poseidon frightened us again, when we experienced the worst storm Northern Greece has experienced in 10 years – snow on Mount Olympus, gale force winds, thunder, lightning and fierce rain – all of this while “sheltering” in what at first glance was an idyllic harbour but turned into a nasty surprise. The swell inside got so bad that I could not even climb onto the boat and we were forced to check into a hotel. But we survived that as well and Pegasus emerged unscathed.  

We waited a few days for the sea to return to a manageable calm and then set off for the island of Samothraki, the north eastern most Greek island. The forecast promised fine winds – but it lied! Reckless Poseidon had struck again - the waves were vicious, high and frequent; only a couple of meters between each crest. Pegasus bashed and slammed her way into them, the wind howled and I cried. Henry is so sweet and comforting when I get like this (only once this year). It is hard for him to understand the shear terror that grips me when the conditions are like this, but he does try.

After 7 hours of horrific wind and waves, we rocked and rolled into Samothraki harbour feeling exhausted – asking us why on earth we had sailed so far to some far flung little island we had been told by more than a few was not worth the bother. And looking around us at the port, we agreed that this was probably a bad mistake.

Wrong! Samothraki is the biggest surprise of 2017. When we woke from our exhaustion induced siesta, we walked through the, to be frank, dreary little port town, and caught the bus to the Hora (village capital in the hills). On the way, we passed rolling, sometimes craggy, hills chequer boarded with neatly ploughed fields. Henry got quite emotional when he said to me – “My heart feels like bursting when I see this kind of beautiful agriculture”. 

We drove higher up, rounded a corner, and what a remarkable sight! A gigantic, sheer piece of rock with the remnants of castle walls clinging to it, loomed up in  a crevice between the mountains, protecting a tangle of red roofed houses.

Samothraki has a special energy. For thousands of years, pilgrims have journeyed to the Sanctuary of the Great Gods, the second most important spiritual site in all of ancient Greece, to be initiated into the mysteries of the cult. St Paul failed to convert the Samothracians to Christianity in the 1^st Century AD, and a kind of stubborn, proud other-worldliness still prevails. 

The cafes throng with New Age followers, tavernas and shops steadfastly refuse to advertise their wares in anything other than Greek – unlike Thassos where advertising boards in Bulgarian, Russian, English, Turkish  and German dominate the streets.

We loved wandering the narrow streets – and Henry got his drawing mojo back. Sitting in café To Stenaki (the narrows), gazing, drawing, musing or writing was heaven.

And then there was the sanctuary itself, which dates back to the earliest fertility goddesses of the Mediterranean and was the site of a mystery cult that attracted Egyptian Queens, Odysseus and, something that surprised us, Alexander the Great's parents met here - about 300 years BC. 

The statue, the Victory of Samothrace or Nike, was found here but sadly we would have to go to the Louvre to see it. The large sanctuary, built between two hills with a river bisecting it, evokes a feeling of serenity and majesty.

As we walked among the ruins we marvelled at the thousands of people through antiquity who had sailed so far to be initiated into the mysteries of the cult - and walked along the very same paths as we were on. 

The island is rich in natural wonders - high mountain ranges, fast flowing rivers, secret waterfalls, pine forests, sandy beaches – all a little wild and craggy, much like it’s inhabitants. We loved it.

And some other surprises…..

The wonderful expressionist art museum just outside Mytilini town in Lesvos with a remarkable collection of works by Matisse, Chagalle, Picasso and others. 

The ancient marble quarries on the island of Thassos are awe-inspiring. The pure white Thassian marble has been prized  since the 7th century BC. To imagine how gigantic pieces of marble were quarried, columns or huge statues were carved and then loaded onto ships alongside the quarry is mind boggling. 

And still on Thassos, exploring the ancient ruins of Limenas and marvelling at the thought of a whole fairy tale city built of the sparkling white marble in the 7^th century BC.

Following our favourite Greek travel writer, Matt Barrett, who always gives us the kind of advice we love, we tracked down To Stavro café up high up in the mountain village of Agiassos on Lesvos. Adorned with antique implements and artefacts it, made a feast for the eyes, not to mention the delicious meze that was served along with our cold beers.

The startling turquoise waters of Thassos which begged for unplanned lunch stops and lengthy swims.

Kavala on the mainland in Macedonia delighted us - the Roman aqueduct, beautiful old town and castle - and the superb deli’s! Cheeses, sausages, cured fish, olives..... As we were gazing into the window of one, a man sitting at a small table outside offered us some of his freshly steamed mussels to taste. When we came out laden with provisions for the boat, he handed us each a piece of bread dripping with a few oily anchovies – which sent us straight back inside to buy 4 tins.

And the latest not so good surprise – being woken up by that vengeful Poseidon - joined by Zeus this time - in Samothraki harbour a few nights ago by the boat rocking fiercely in an inexplicable swell - and seeing bubbles rising from the sea bed around the boat when we got up a few hours later. We only found out a bit later that there had been another earthquake, much further south near Bodrum and Kos, but with enough vengeance to affect us up here. There have been a few more of these strange swells in the harbour, releasing a sulphurous smell and the bubbles continue to rise. 

As much as this freaks us, we have not been able to drag ourselves away from this island and it’s charms.  It seems that sacrifices are indeed due.....

101 USES OF A CEMENT MIXER

Henry and I were having our now habitual siesta one afternoon in Skala Loutra, a small fishing harbour in the Gulf of Gera on Lesvos, when we were woken up by a dull and rhythmic thwack, thwack, thwack. We dozed on a bit and then a cement mixer clunked into life, breaking any chance to carry on sleeping. We dragged ourselves upstairs and saw, on the opposite side of the harbour, a man whacking what looked like a wet t-shirt onto the quay with an arcing arm motion.

 After a few minutes, he threw the long, straggly t-shirt to a man sitting next to him and he proceeded to hit it over and over again with a paddle. We ventured round to have a look and watched in fascinated horror while dozens of octopuses were beaten to a soft and palatable pulp. 

We strolled back to the boat, past a yellow cement mixer which was reverberating continuously on the far side of the quay. 

A man was periodically pouring what looked like sand from a bucket and water from the harbour into it. We stopped to have a look – it was strange as the mixer was right on the edge of the harbour and it did not seem to be mixing cement so we were curious. When we got closer, we could see that he was throwing what looked like coarse salt, followed by a bucket of murky harbour water into a churning mass of ………..octopuses. 

From the back of the boat, we watched fascinated for the next hour as, after 10 minutes or so of being tumbled in the cement mixer, the octopuses were loaded into a crate and driven around the harbour to the two on the other side who, only then, began the over-arm whack and paddle smash.  The very friendly fishermen told us that they supply all the tavernas’ and kafenions’ in Lesbos with fresh octopus, a much loved delicacy, the tentacles eaten grilled and slightly charred with ouzo.

Henry's sketch of the taxi with Perama in the distance

Just a few hours earlier, we had enjoyed the most memorable lunch of our trip so far. We had walked the 2km from our simple little harbour through olive groves to an even smaller harbour where a small taxi-ferry took us across the Gulf to the village of Perama on the other side. 

We had read about this industrial agricultural town which, along with the rest of Gera, had helped to make Lesvos prosperous with the production of olive oil in the 1800’s. The shoreline is dotted with the strangely beautiful ruins of these old, disuded factories with their tall, slender chimneys. 

After wandering around the town, we stopped for lunch at what we later found out was one of the most famous and excellent tavernas in the whole of Lesvos - a large island with many great restaurants. 

From the taverna back to Skala Loutra

Two men next to us were drinking ouzo with a giant sea-food platter in-front of them. When we asked for the same, we were told that this was ouzo mere which comes with ouzo - at Euro 8 per person including ouzo. We would have to order the standard sea food platter – at Euro 30.00 excluding drinks, a bit over our budget. So, ouzo it was - for Henry at least. The owner allowed me to have the ouzo meze with a carafe of the house white wine, and so for Euro 16.00 including drinks, we tucked into a pile of the most delectable sea food, all just hours out the sea – succulent sardines, tiny crispy deep fried shrimps, grilled squid tentacles, fried tender calamari rings, mussels, clams and ….. octopus of course. 

At the time we did not feel queasy at the idea of eating these most delicious creatures, grilled to chewy perfection over a hot fire. The meal was sublime, the view breathtaking, the drinks deliciously chilled. We clambered back onto the taxi-ferry, full and happy – and got back to the boat for our siesta – the same one that we were so rudely awakened from earlier!

The cat waited in vain for some left over morsels

FIRE AND BRIMSTONE .... FOLLOWED BY "THE RABBIT HOP HELLO"

SALLY AND HENRY

A week ago we were about to send out our first blog of the season when we heard news of the devastating fires sweeping through Knysna and the Garden Route. To be so far away from home and see and hear what was happening was awful and we felt powerless to help.

Our first inkling of anything wrong was when little Naledi (Dineo who works for us’s daughter) sent us a What’s App that simply said “Don’t worry we are safe”.  She is in hostel at Knysna Montessori School, and we knew the school had closed for the day because of the hurricane force winds that had been forecast, and so assumed she was talking about the wind. We immediately called her and she told us about the fire coming close to the school. It was a hugely traumatic experience for the children who were evacuated to first one place, then another as the flames came closer and then lastly to Thesen Island. But she is at home now with Dineo in Thembalethu, safe. Phantom Forest lodge was totally destroyed and our friend Warren lost everything. They fled from the fire and when we heard from him, he was huddled next to his dog Skye near the banks of a river. Our friends Guillame and Thandi  also lost everything, as have so many other people from townships to towns. Our hearts go out to all of them. 

And then yesterday we had our own drama.

We are moored in the harbour of Plomari on Lesvos Island with Henry’s son Joe and his girlfriend Klara. Yesterday afternoon we got back to our boat after lunch ready for a siesta, when there was a loud roar and the boat started to shake violently. We looked around and everything we could see was shaking - the quay, the buildings. People were running around in panic and screaming. Next minute, the water started rushing out of the harbour, down nearly 2 meters and the next minute it rushed back to almost level with the top of the quay, and we thought we were going to be washed onto the quay. The tsunami carried on for about 40 minutes with a displacement of water initially of about 2 meters and then getting less and less. Nobody knew what to do, but we all loosened our lines and were poised ready to leave. The day trip boat on the end of the inner harbour was swept out by the water raging in and out and we heard it's mooring lines snap like bullet shots. We are moored on the end and could see it happening, but no-one else was watching. We yelled for the port police and people raced around the harbour when the boat was hanging by 1 rope but already nearly out of the harbour mouth. Miraculously 2 men managed to leap onboard and start the engine. It could have caused havoc being swept in and out of the harbour and crushing into us. It was all truly terrifying and our hearts were still racing 1 hour later.

Plomari was the closest area to the epicenter of the earthquake – at 6.3, the biggest earthquake in living memory. Luckily it was not on land but 10km out to sea, 6km deep between Lesvos and Chios. At least 3 people were killed, some injured and many houses have been damaged. We saw clouds of dust as an old olive oil chimney collapsed next to the harbour and further on more dust caused by rock landslides.

But, as so often happens when things like this occur, people were very kind and it was a good feeling of togetherness when everyone came streaming down to the centre. Although small earthquakes occur, nothing like this had ever happened, and people were terrified and shocked. But lots of ouzo was drunk and we ended up making new friends and having a good evening!

…… and backtracking to our first blog for 2017

THE RABBIT HOP HELLO (see The Rabbit Hop Goodbye - May 2016)

SALLY

“I like to speak to the old people – they share with me treasures of their lives …….”

For the second year Henry and I started our sailing in Chios and we stayed in Kiriaki and Dimitri’s magical Spilia once again, where the ruins fringing the old village and the mountain have been sensitively and authentically restored as close as possible to their former simple beauty.  Kiriaki is a font of wisdom and information, much of which is, as she says, learnt from the old people.

“ To make rose petal preserve, you can only use the sweetest small roses….”

 “The factory man says, use copper sulphate to keep figs green; the old woman say’s, use the leaves of the bitter orange. When I asked a chemist, he told me that copper sulphate is in bitter orange leaves – how did the old woman know? And the best is that the smell of the bitter orange goes through to the figs.”

“For bitter orange preserve, only use the peels……”

“To get rid of the damp, musty smell in your boat, burn cloves and cinnamon.” (It worked!)

When we told Kirkiaki that 4 vacuum packets of biltong that we had brought with us had come unstuck and that we would either have to eat it very quickly or throw it away, she suggested putting it in a jar and covering it with olive oil. Not only did it work, but both the biltong and the oil that it has soaked in is delicious. 

The lesson she gave us in making Greek coffee made me an instant convert to the thick, black coffee much loved by Greeks and Turks. “It is an art – never boil the water. Watch it constantly and just before it boils when you see the small bubbles, pour from a small height. The more small bubbles on the surface, the more money you are likely to get.” Trying Greek coffee the next day in a Kafeneion, I realized I am not a general Greek coffee lover, just Kiriaki’s.

We were privileged to be invited to Kiriaki and Dimitri’s wonderful house in the town for Sunday lunch. Dimitri is a collector of old things beautiful, intriguing, useful. Seeing how much we had enjoyed the coffee-making lesson, Dimitri had set out a small exhibition of antique coffee making paraphernalia. The 12^th Century ancient urn, crafted meticulously and beautifully from copper; the various pourers, each a delight of careful metal craft, the traditional grinder not dissimilar to those we use today.  Dimitri does not speak English, but his passion for every object transcended language and we were able to understand how everything was used.

And then the feast was set out on the rose adorned dining room table. Fresh dolmades made with the newest spring vine leaves, (apologies for not making her speciality – fresh sardines wrapped in vine leaves), tangy tzatziki,  succulent keftedes (small meat balls),  deep fried cucumber balls (who could imagine fried cucumber could be so delicious). And then, the dish that Kiriaki had promised in honour of our “Rabbit Hop hello”, rabbit stifado. Freshly skinned rabbit slow cooked with cinnamon, ouzo, tomatoes, cloves, baby onions all soaked up with a delicious Chiotan pasta.

“The best stifada”, connoisseur Henry, enthused, “in all of Greece”. I agree - my mouth is watering at the memory. 

Kiriaki has offered to host cookery classes in her beautiful Spilia (with Greek lessons thrown in). Let me know if anyone is interested and we will start organising.

HENRY:

Every year that we sail, we start with repairs and maintenance of the boat, which usually takes four or five days before we launch. For the second year running, we have left the boat in the boatyard of a wonderful rough diamond, Adonis Kiotis, on the island of Chios.

We like to intersperse our work on the boat with exploring.

South west of the town of Chios, which is in itself one of our favourite towns, lies an area known as the “Kambos”; a valley of about 20 square kilometers. The Kambos is relatively flat and was developed for citrus growing because of its rich soils and plentiful underground water supply.

The area became wealthy as a result of the success of its agriculture. The Genoese built many of the mansions that are scattered over Kambos in the 14^th century, making it an important commercial area for at least 700 years. The earthquake of 1821 and the massacre by the Ottomans of 1822 added to the decline of the area as well as the destruction of many of the buildings. The fate of the gentlemen farmers is reminiscent of that of the feather barons of the Karoo in that in both cases agriculture flourished for long enough to make it possible to build houses that were beautiful, sometimes palatial, but unsustainable in the years when the industry failed.

The orchards and gardens are protected by high stone walls that create a maze like feel as you travel along the winding roads, some with old cobble stones still bearing the marks of cart wheels.

Each house has a well of about 4 meters in diameter with an elaborate water wheel over the head, the importance of which is obvious from the ornate marble structure on which it is built as well as its central position close to the villa. The waterwheels are interesting because of the unusual technology that is used to raise the water from 7 or 8 meters below ground level. It is more of a pump than the kind of waterwheel that is generally associated with producing energy from a running stream. The wheel raises buckets that were made of wood, clay or later, iron, from the water level to the top where they are emptied into a channel as they turn over the top of the wheel from where they are lowered back to the water below in a continuous chain filling up the cistern for irrigation.

The wheels were originally powered by animals using a crown and pinion gear system made of wood in the same manner as the windmills used for grinding wheat. They were adapted to operate on electric or diesel motors but have now, sadly, been replaced by conventional pumps. The stone walled wells remain in use.

Dimitri, of course, was familiar with the water wheels and the Kambos. In conversation he showed us a book produced to commemorate the life of one of Greece's most illustrious architects Dimitris Pikionis (18887 - 1968), an architect who has perhaps contributed more than any other to recording Greece's architectural heritage, including the houses of the Kambos, of the last two or three centuries. I was absolutely stunned by the 'book' – it is really a series of A3 loose pictures, a folio, beautifully produced and contained in a box. When Dimitri said he thought he might be able to get a copy for me, I was unhesitating! He managed to find one in an Athens bookshop and, miraculously, had it shipped to Chios before we left. I have included some pictures from the book that illustrate its extraordinary beauty.

SALLY AND HENRY

As usual, we were sad to say goodbye to our great friends and to Chios.  After a week spending fascinating time with Kiriaki and Dimitri, getting Pegasus ready for sailing and exploring Chios, we set sail and within two days, crossed the stretch of Aegean between Chios and Lesvos, leaving earlier than expected for a safe anchorage on Lesvos ahead of the predicted violent thunderstorms. But one thing is clear for us, we will be back for another Rabbit Hop Hello – and we hope that as many people reading this will come to visit this lush and beautiful island that has been so devastated by the economic crisis and fallout around the refugee situation.