It’s a Small World

Knowing the wind and seas were rising, we were motivated to get to shore by 9:00 am to start our exploration. A steep hike up through the town led to a Castle and some windmills of all things. I find it magnificently annoying how pictures always distort stuff so you really can’t ever see without actually seeing. The town didn’t seem exactly bustling, but then again it was early in the day. The few beachside tavernas had some crusty locals taking their morning cuppa, and a few women were out in their yards. Google maps sort of works in towns here, but a street can easily be a staircase or even a drainage ditch. With occasionally asking for directions, we eventually made our way to the fierce windy hilltop and the Castle. Wonder of wonders the castle was closed and a sign politely told us to “Please leave at the preset time”. So we did. Not gonna stay where we ain’t wanted! A tiny chapel up there was open, so we poked our heads in to see the icons and flickering candles. No friars in evidence. A white painted staircase led us on a curvy path back into town where we stopped at a bakery for some brunch. This was consumed in a windy playground where Camille and Kindi had been chilling. The pastry’s were an amazing assortment of spinach, goat cheese, apple and weiner to name a few. The weiner came as quite a surprise when Heath bit in. English wasn’t spoken, so he had had no warning. It was good tho!

There are lots of cats and little dogs on these islands.

After lunch we headed back to the boat and got ready for our rough crossing to Patmos. This included taking sea sick meds and battening the hatches as it were. Everything, and thats a lot, has to be securely stored so it doesn’t fly around in rough waves, all portholes must be securely fastened and if you think you might need the toilet, you should do it now.

The passage was, to put it in the best light possible, invigorating. Or maybe I should say Avril found it hugely invigorating. I found it a bit of a rush, some just endured and the baby slept through a large part of it.

The waves were big. Like for us. Seasoned sailors would probably laugh at that. Significant wave height was 1.1 meters, which means that the largest waves were between 7.5 + 10 ft tall. Statistically we could have had an occasional random one up to 15’, but I kinda doubt we saw any that big. Definitely 10ft though. It was hard on most stomachs, and people perched in the cockpit , desperately trying to gaze at the horizon, have wind in their faces and think pretty thoughts. But not Avril. She only got skippier the harder the wind blew and the bigger the waves! It reminded her of sitting at the very tip of a guava tree branch back in her childhood home, swaying in the wind. It was a rush, for sure when the huge ones would come and we would take a wild swoop over and a long ride down. It was not such a rush when a large wave would spray into the cockpit and drench us. Most of us were absolutely soaked! Like rivers inside the clothes soaked. Thank goodness the sun was shining and it wasn’t cold. And then the barfing commenced. Just two, but quite violent and very spread, so Avril got busy filling buckets with water, drunkenly lurching across the cabin, handing them precariously up the ladder to me, and I would swoosh them over the floor and table and feet and whatever else looked liked it needed it. It took BUCKETS! We wiped and whooshed for ages, and got it all presentable. After that some gave in to their sleeping meds and went to sleep below. I sat and let the boat hypnotically rock me, (our direction had changed so no more wild sprays), and Avril shouted something about tea, and went below. After a few minutes she came rocking back up, a bun smeared with Nutella waving in one hand, a thermos of tea in the other, and a large grin spread across her face! For whatever reason it made me think of Pippi in the South Seas. Every time is tea time with that woman! And did it matter that her Nutella bun kept swiping dangerously close to Zach’s head? Naw.

Patmos was an absolute beautiful site! Unfortunately, the marina wasn’t so beautiful. It isn’t a real good wind refuge, so our docking options were pretty limited. We eventually made an half decent plan and proceeded to execute it. No, it probably wasn’t the most glamorous docking in the world, but it was safe and controlled. Apparently our catamaran neighbor lady didn’t like it at all, and she looked down her imperial nose at us and said “don’t hit our yacht, it’s our home” repeatedly. Well, maybe that was the chorus of her song. Verse one was, “You are holding the lines wrong and may pinch your hands”. Verse two was something like “please look at our yacht to see how to tie off correctly” and Verse three included the words “I realize you don’t want my help, but”. Some of us, not naming names here, but they were female and didn’t have babies, were hopping mad and fell into a highly indignant sarcasm which troubled the husbands. Like really! What an aristocratic snob! Heath was so horrified at our behavior, all perfectly quiet and only done out of earshot of course, that he threatened to bring the gal one of our bottles of wine as a peace offering! InDEED! We may have got it as a gift and may not be drinking it, but that does NOT mean we need to give it away! Ok, so all that barf cleanup could possibly have been bringing out a nasty side in us, but still. Not the wine. Anything else, like maybe the watermelon that’s been riding in my berth so it can’t fly all over the boat.

Everyone was hugely grateful to have solid ground under their feet and after a quick Supermarket run for some cleaning supplies, we girls cleaned the deck in earnest. Camille cleaned the interior and by the time we were done scrubbing, it smelled so good that Kindi couldn’t stop licking the floor.

The guys were out exploring town and walking, and they slowly trickled back as the day faded. Our neighbors, also strolling, arrived back at the yacht at the same time as Heath. He had just noticed the halyard was making a slapping noise in the wind, so he went up to fix it. Who do you think was on their way over already to say, “would you like a little help securing your halyard, it’s making a banging noise?” Yes. Mr neighbor lady. I will say this. He was really nice and friendly, so of course we all knew who had sent him over! Words failed us. Well, they didn’t actually fail us, but they probably should have.

Robs made us an incredible supper of roasted chicken legs, rice, tzatziki sauce and melon. The bathroom door melon, not the berth melon. We ate cookies purchased earlier that turned out not to be cookies, but rather some savory sticklike wonders and drank cups of tea. You know how it is after stress. Half of us laughed till we nearly cried, while the other half bobble headed with medication induced drowsiness. Bed felt absolutely amazing.

PS. If you barf and others clean up your mess, it’s really good etiquette to bring them large chocolate bars as a gift. They might even offer you can do it again sometime.