Getting To Marmaris

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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.

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Don’t Worry About The Half Metre Depth

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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?

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Tacking On Esper

• video clips

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!

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Returning To Bodrum Area

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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).

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Slippery Poles

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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.

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Keep The Foreign Tourists OUT!

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Our aim was to get to Datca today but with the wind on the nose we really couldn’t be arsed motoring 20 miles into it so we ducked into yet another Turkish resort, Kuruku Buku. I say ‘Turkish’ resort not because it’s a holiday resort in Turkey but because it is frequented by Turks, as opposed to foreign tourists. Sensibly the Turks tuck the drunken and obnoxious tourists away in places like Gumbet and keep places like Kuruku Buku to themselves.

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The Haven of Kuyulu Buku

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Our time here was spent, once again, taking some snaps and reading. Just how we like it. In the evening we texted Christer of Lady Jessie only to find that he was in the next bay along, 500m round the corner! We arranged to hook up next morning.

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Sleeping Up On Deck It’s So Hot

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n the morning we stowed and made a slow down-wind hop around the corner, which saw us in Keci Buku, a great little bay divided in half by a spit. We made our way down to the end, out of the way of idiots on jet skis and tourists limping along the sand bar. As we surveyed our potential anchorage we were angrily waved off by a German who was insistent we didn’t drop our anchor anywhere near his precious boat (it was a hand-painted, rusty heap of shite).

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We Almost Missed This One

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The next day we decided to go check out Selimye proper so, like mad dogs and Englishmen we donned our walking boots and strolled the 20 minute walk to the sea front in the blazing midday heat. We hit the first restaurant we came across just to rehydrate on iced tea before continuing along the sea front that is Selimye.

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The Aquarium That Is Dirsek

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We spied across the bay a lonely old Turk, in his dinghy waving at us. He was right next to what looked like a very pretty sandy bay. No-one else was there.. “Beware of Turks bearing gifts” thought we, but nevertheless decided to give it a go. We anchored and went stern to.

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Buzborun-sur-mer

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As we neared our destination Jamie noticed another disturbance in the sea (I was still chomping through the admittedly rather poor lunch offering) and at first we thought it was a turtle. On closer inspection we could see a fin appearing now and then, but it was too small for a dolphin. It turned out to be a magnificent ray right on the surface of the water.

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Last Day In Beserk Buku

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It was rather nerve racking having him watching us as tavla is a game in the blood of every Turkish man. They play it from birth and they play it at a million miles an hour. He gave me a few tips, nods and winks as Jamie and I played. I won! We then suggested that he play Jamie. Like the last man standing Jamie bravely battled on, but all in vain as Ali trounced him in the first game.

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The Ancient City of Loryma, Bozuk Buku

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I tied the painter and walked to the foredeck to shower myself down (we have a hose poked through one of the hatches to wash ourselves down with fresh water after a dip). Liz, thinking she was doing me a favour, decided to turn the deck floodlights on whilst I was buck-naked, sponge and shower gel in hand! Don’t forget the boat was moored up next to the jetty where six boats were tied to, so this performance of me prancing around the deck naked, lights as bright as football floodlights,

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Star Gazing With Patrick Moore

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We motored half a mile back up the coast to Ciftlik, an anchorage that suffers from severe gusts off the mountains and whose beauty is spoiled somewhat by the monstrous holiday resort. That said it’s a great anchorage in terms of holding on the pick and actually, despite the holiday resort it’s still a pretty bay.

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