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 »
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.
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.
Keep The Foreign Tourists OUT! Read Post »
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.
The Haven of Kuyulu Buku Read Post »
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).
Sleeping Up On Deck It’s So Hot Read Post »
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.
We Almost Missed This One Read Post »
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.
The Aquarium That Is Dirsek Read Post »
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.
