After about ¾ mile we broke out and started some serious stuff with 3 sails out, proving that with a ketch rig you don’t need the mainsail if you want to cruise comfortably. Before long, however the Skipper decided it was time to turn right round a full 180 degrees and head due west towards Turunc, which is where we would be mooring up for the night.
Let’s Go Sailing and Discover Turunc Read Post »
Jamie put out a call and within minutes we had a response from fellow yachties (several actually), but the first proved to be the nearest and also have all the right equipment. We gulped a cup of coffee and waited patiently for “International Rescue”. More exchanges on the VHF followed and after about an hour a rib driven by a salty sea dog came hurtling towards us with two divers all togged up with tanks, flippers and wet suits to sort us out.
Getting Our Anchor Chain Fouled Read Post »
Despite being quite close in, we were suddenly surrounded by local boats (including those mini-gulets) passing us on both sides, jam-packed with tourists. This eventually quietened down and gave us time to relax a bit except when the ice cream man came motoring by with calls of “Isa creama, chocka lolly” which we ignored! After a swim & snorkel Mike turned on the hot shower on deck and managed to spray everything on board within range as he was facing the wrong way-got ticked off by the Skipper AND First Mate.
The Gearbox Actually Worked! Read Post »
We meandered up the cobbled pathway to the castle only to find it closed, but we did not need much persuasion from Jamie & Liz to climb up to the highest café in town for cold refreshments in the Panoramic Bar. We gazed at the beautiful scenery in the bay and were able to see Esper’s berth in the distance.
Where Have The Winds Gone? Read Post »
Gerald, a fellow yachtie who had previous knowledge & experience of matters mechanical, joined us and proved invaluable. A fan was set up to keep us cool and with plenty of cold drinks, twisting & turning, the gearbox eventually clicked into place. Hurrah- but will it work? Meantime-where is Millyu?
Getting That Damn Gearbox Back In Place Read Post »
After debriefing we were taken to the Marina swimming pool-memories of swimming up and down looking at the blue skies and hearing the slatting of the rigging in the masts. Was it really only a few hours ago that we were in England? A poolside lunch fortified us for the afternoon.
The Folks Are Back In Town Read Post »
… a small, straggly kitten appeared outside the Black Hole’s supermarket. The guys in the shop would should “Satilik, satilik!” (for sale) every time someone stopped to pet her. She was very difficult to ignore, not only because of the noise, but also because she was so pretty – and had green tattooed ears! One drunken early morning J and I persuaded her to walk back to the boat with us
Esper’s 3rd Permanent Crew Member Read Post »
If your marina is fortunate enough to have golf-carts and tricycles knocking about, why not help yourself to one for your return journey after a heavy night in the bar? In an early incident Liz and I ‘borrowed’ the shop’s tricycle, which has a large basket on the back for carrying provisions. After taking five minutes to get the thing going (Liz sitting in the basket was playing havoc with my balance) we eventually rode across the marina, down four steps onto the pontoon, along another 20 metres to the corner, and stacked the thing.
Being the diplomatic chap that I am I won’t talk about the crew but it is worth mentioning that the non-drinking, non-smoking skipper farts at you when you ask him a question. Don’t ask. The chief mechanic and the hostess have already handed in their notice. The entire crew are alcoholics due to their Groundhog Day existence.
till, we spotted a turtle whilst running goosewing (Esper was running goosewing, not the turtle), this time with the main, jib and mizzen, hitting up to 8kn speed over ground. By the time we’d reached Kadirga Br., the last corner before Marmaris, we were a sweating, sunburnt and tired mess. We’d travelled over 50 miles today and still managed to get to Marmaris in time to drop anchor, have a refreshing swim, shower, get ashore and have a silly evening with our friends Benn and Becks.
Getting To Marmaris Read Post »
Lessons learned? Rely on no one but yourself. Beware of Turks bearing gifts: they may say ‘yes, we can fix it’ to every problem posed but this is not always the case. We have now spent £££s on this transmission issue (I no longer call it a gear-box issue as there was nothing ever wrong with the gear box) and have wasted over a week at anchor waiting for various mechanics and boat yards to fix this problem. Still, you live and learn, innit?
Don’t Worry About The Half Metre Depth Read Post »
After lashing the video camera and tripod to the granny bars we were able to capture some great shots of us tacking Esper. As it happened, after pressing the ‘record’ button we had to do two tacks in quick succession, both of which were caught on one six minute clip. Obviously we’ve edited this for you into a short 1 minute montage. Our fave sailing clip to date!
Icmeler, Bodrum, Turkey A day after we get our boat lifted out of the water: In the space of a few seconds the azure skies of Bodrum suddenly turned a dirty brown this morning. Looking up at the mountains behind
Watching Bodrum Go Up In Flames Read Post »
We completed a few tacks and successfully overtook another yacht attempting the same thing (10 points) but, after three or more hours we decided to whack the engine on and just get round that damn corner! Shame, as we were having a lot of fun tacking, something that Liz and I have got licked pretty well now (bear in mind we tack with up to four sails out).
Returning To Bodrum Area Read Post »
The MC incited the crowd into hysteria as the local youths prepared to exhibit their skill and bravery in front of friends and family. The object of the exercise was to get to the Turkish flag at the end of the pole first and proudly claim it as one’s own. Sounds simple, but when you’re wet, knackered and full of bravado whilst trying to run up a greased up pole it’s probably a bit daunting.
