Tue 25 Jun – A hairy trip to Ermoupoli for our haul-out

I think we were both a little apprehensive about sailing the boat against the building Meltemi as well as getting her out of the water and onto the hard. This would explain why we both woke up around 04:30, an hour before the alarm went off. Laying in bed we could already hear an ominous howling sound, not good. A quick look outside confirmed that the wind had kicked in earlier than we expected, and we were already seeing 26 knots in the supposedly protected marina. Apart from making our sail up the coast much harder, it also meant a much more difficult departure from the marina as we were tied on mooring lines to a leeward berth. At this point we were in two minds: what should we do? Brave the winds, get out of the marina and make our way up to the boat yard, or sit it out for a couple of days, safely tucked away?

Another big gust hitting the boat and singing through the rig made our decision somewhat easy: we’d stay. That meant cancelling the boat yard, the hotel, and telling the marina that we’d be staying a few more days. Easier said that done at 06:00 in the morning. We sent out a few text messages to people (so as to not wake them up at this ungodly hour) and went back to bed. Waking up around 09:00 we were fully expecting a howling gale outside. To our surprise we found the wind had somewhat died down, so much so that most of the charter fleet in the marina had left for a good days sailing. Hmm, now what? 

After a short debate we decided to change course AGAIN and make our way up to the Ermoupoli. That meant cancelling our previous cancellations again, and I think I heard a slight bit of frustration in Stavros’ voice when I told him we had changed our mind again. Understandably so.

And of course, by the time we had the boat ready to leave the wind had decided to show itself again, and we were reading a healthy 20 knots off the wind meter as we were squeezing out of our berth. Once out of the marina we settled into a nice sail. With a tiny bit of jib out and the waves behind us, we were patting ourselves on the back for having made the right decision. As it often goes in these situations, our patting did not last for long. About 3 miles into our trip the wind turned and came directly from where we had to go. We packed up the sail and cranked the engine, but a building sea and stronger and stronger gusts meant that we found ourselves pumping and pounding into the waves. It was not exactly dangerous, but to describe the situation as “tremendously uncomfortable” would be the understatement of the century. 

It got worse as we clawed our way eastward along the south coast. The only sail boats around were all going in exactly the opposite direction. Having wind and waves behind them, they all must have thought we are absolute lunatics trying to go against the sea and wind. The worst came when we reached the east corner of the island, the point where we had to turn north. With our destination a mere 3 miles away, it really should not have been a problem at all, but the sea state around this corner and the 30 knot winds made it almost impossible to control the boat. Somehow we managed to bounce the boat across the waves into the lee of a few rocks, behind which the sea had calmed a tiny bit. This allowed us to make more way north, and after another hour of being thrown and slapped about by the sea we made our approach to the marina.

As discussed before, I gave the boat yard another ring to announce our arrival. Speaking on the phone was made somewhat complicated by the wind and wave action, but I understood that we were supposed to moor up next to a tiny boat named George. As Camilla managed to manoeuvre us around the corner, we were surprised to find out that George was actually our pilot. A guy, who can only be described as a Crocodile Dundee double was waiting on a tiny little boat and waving wildly, wearing shorts and a cowboy hat. George hopped on board and skilfully drove Bini onto the trailer, which had been lowered into the water. We found ourselves staring at the world around us, as Bini was pulled slowly out of the water. It was a bizarre experience sitting in the cockpit while the boat is being driven around.

After Bini was secured with a few bits of wood around the trailer, we grabbed a few things and hit the next taverna we could find for much needed drinks. It was a weird feeling. On one hand we were glad that we made it into the yard. On the other hand we were shell shocked by the trip up there. In any way we were here now and Bini was out of the water to get repaired, and that’s all that really mattered at this point.

We finished our drinks and made our way to the hotel, where we both crashed for a couple of hours. We spent the evening exploring Ermoupoli, a town with narrow little streets between houses that are sprinkled like bird nests along the mountains. We had dinner next to the town key, where a few boats were seriously bouncing around in the swell that worked its way into the marina.