I am writing this in the last week of May. According to the previous scheme (weeks since arrival in Kos) this would now be week 13, however as we finally get closer to doing what we set out to do, the counting of those weeks in waiting seems increasingly irrelevant. And not only because I am now more than two weeks in arears! In any case, since I last wrote a lot has happened. We have had 2 very different sorts of weeks: still waiting to sail and now finally sailing. Both have given rise to much philosophising on my part.
A combination of factors meant that until 18th May we continued to stay put in the marina, living aboard but not yet on the water: still so frustratingly far from the cruising life we are trying to achieve. We were held back by a missing part for the reacher furler. (What great terms there are in sailing! A furler apparently does what it says on the tin, and a reacher…who knows why it is called a reacher? I’ll have to look it up.) During this extended period of waiting I found myself musing over this and that.
Tied up there in the marina we looked on enviously as sailing boats came and went. It seemed we were still a long way from where we wanted to be. Living aboard but not yet cruising: one foot on the water (living on a boat) and one on land (not actually sailing yet!) Stationed safe as houses in Kos marina, with our familiar routines, familiar people, familiar shops, familiar places… Not a bad place to be stationed, I mused. And not bad to be safe as houses, especially casting my mind back a few weels to the horrors of being anchored in a bay in near gale-force winds. And yet still not really the adventure we were hoping to find. Our non-sailing status by this point and the status of the boat could not have been more different from what we had envisaged.
But I think we have finally started coming to terms with the fact that this is simply how things worked out. Accepting that there are certain things we can influence and others we cannot brings a certain peace. We will have to adjust our plans for this year (i.e. start sailing later) but so what?
Musing was balanced by some very down to earth maintenance work: cleaning of bilges and fitting of valves on waste pumps, among other things. (My job is often to hand tools to my husband hidden deep in the narrow enclosures of the boat, under and behind the sink, the cupboards, the sofas, the beds. Ralph is not a small man and yet he manages to contort himself into these tiny spaces just big enough for a slim cat. It always looks extremely uncomfortable.) We also went on some great long walks to the end of the island and back. The expected heat, so missed and longed for by the locals and the visitors, appeared suddenly with a vengeance for a few days, which made the walks sometimes quite hot. We also made some new friends. And so, in summary a good week; a varied week; a productive week. But still....a waiting week.
Then things finally started to happen! The replacement reacher furler part was delivered and successfully installed on Monday evening, to our enormous relief. On Tuesday we celebrated Ralph’s birthday and prepared for the off. And on Wednesday we actually made it out of the marina on the first leg of our journey. Oh happy day.
We wanted to head up northwards, either in the eastern Aegean, sort of up the coast of Turkey, or indeed on the western side, whichever looked more doable in terms of wind and weather. The goal was to get up to Halkidiki by mid-June before the Meltemi (strong north winds) set in properly. We wanted to start our cruising life in the calm and sheltered waters of the northern Aegean in more temperate climes than those to be found down south. However we discovered that even before the Meltemi has reached its height, there is a lot of wind happening in the Aegean, and there are strong winds and often a nasty swell to be had wherever you go. A lot of the time they seem to be north winds too, which presents something of an obstacle for planning a route up north.
However, as yet undaunted we set out bravely towards Leros into the wind. It was a short but bumpy ride and were relieved to hear that there was room in the marina for us to sit out the winds for the next few days. Ralph manouevred us skilfully into the marina and I showed some improved handling of the mooring lines. Pier H turned out to be a good 500m walk through the dusty boatyard of Leros marina to the central buildings and probably at least 3Km into Lakki town. So on Thursday we had a hire car delivered to the quay and set off on another Löffelmann Whistlestop Island Tour which we both thoroughly enjoyed. Like Kos, Leros has not yet entered its tourist season and it is not so popular anyway, quite quiet and in some places still mostly untouched. Highlights included the outstanding views from the castle Pandeli, the little church Agios Isodoros on a promentary (very Mamma Mia), and fried fish under the tree at on a quiet beach at sleepy Alinda.
On Friday we waited out the weather and on Saturday morning set off early on our longest trip to date, to a little island due West of Leros, and just East of Naxos, which happens to be shaped like a pudgy baby dragon, and is called Dhenoussa (English spellings seem to vary). This was chosen purely on the merits of its position and potential for shelter, given the weather conditions and the aim of making our way north-eastwards. We were the only boat anchoring in that particular bay. One or two houses faced out onto the bay and there was a fisherman motoring in and out. Otherwise we were alone. The anchorage was excellent and once we had convinced ourselves of this, we had a quiet night.
On Sunday we set off again and headed for Naxos. Again our anchorage was chosen based on the forecasted weather. (You can though drive yourself mad following the predictions, choose the ideal anchorage in the ideal bay, only for the weather to change suddenly and take the mickey out of the forecast. We did this a few times - drive ourselves mad watching the weather - and I suspect it may continue for a while until we get the hang of it.) You might imagine that island-hopping is about a short blithe sail from one beautiful isle to the next, the route chosen according to which islands are most charming: perhaps those with the most beautiful bays in which to anchor, or with the most vibrant towns or quaint fishing harbours (etc). We have found that is not so realistic in the Aegean, at least not for us, not yet. We are driven by what looks like the safest place to spend the night and which is still within striking distance and roughly on our route. This means that is it not always a thrilling holiday destination. Often when get there, there is nothing to see, and nowhere to go. We are tired but relieved to be safe. We live to tell the tale…it’s just not always much of a tale!
These scant few days on the water have led me to realise that there are hundreds of different aspects which motivate people to embark on of sailing life. Ralph and I are just starting out and I feel we are learning every day, not only about cleats, lines, sheets, anchors and bridles, inverters, batteries, plumbing and motor mechanics, but also about what we want and where we are heading, both literally and metaphorically. We are just starting to learn what it is we really enjoy, what we want to get out of it, what makes it worthwhile for us to have made so many changes in our lives to achieve this.
In the end I decided to stop counting the weeks we had not sailed when we thought we would; stop counting the weeks in Kos, as none of that seems so relevant now. Now we have finally started and it is incredibly exciting to be living such a different life and having the chance to discover oneself. So I have decided not to count those weeks but simply to count myself very lucky.
Translated to German with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version) - with some tweaks
English 
German