After an odd night where I kept thinking our anchor was going to release us into the open seas, we take a much more casual paddle to the pontoon and a lovely breakfast at the Limon Restaurant before a stroll around Gocek market. After a little haggling, I walk away with some souvenirs and somehow a shirt I never wanted.
Gocek is one of those places that thrives on tourism, particularly boats, to the point where it appears to have taken the soul from the place. The market is local enough and is well worth a visit to stock up on essential fruit and veg. The marina, however, is littered with luxury yachts, coloured lights, a promenade and the usual cafes and restaurants pushing their chairs and tables into your path. It was definitely more noisy than Fethiye, which is why it was nice to anchor. Yet, I could still hear the call to prayer (or the Wailey wailey man as he is affectionately known) and a bloody cockerel.
We upped anchor and I took the helm and steered us into wind. The sails went up again but only briefly. The short hop to our next destination, Boynuz Buku, was calm and quiet, which suited my tummy fine. Unfortunately the prop problem meant that we could only hit about 3 knots, so it took two and a quarter hours, but once moored up on the rickety pontoon (where I happen to be sitting now) a friendly and familiar face to the others (Tufan) took our lines and I am introduced to a serene, peaceful and simple mooring.
As I sit here like Huck Fin, feet dangling over the pontoon, I look up and see what can really only be described as a restaurant in a wood. Tables, chairs, a bar and a wood burning kiln make up a beautiful place to eat.
Fish jump in the still waters, goats bleat, frogs croak and Millie chases colourful birds who feed their chicks caterpillars nesting in holes in trees.
The sky blushes pink and as the night draws in, the chilly air asks me to pour another rum.