June 22, 2016

We spent a long stretch at anchor, three weeks – interrupted only by a day and a half at a small marina to top off water and do some laundry. We anchored off beaches, in small bays, in front of the largest town on Ithaca (maybe 5,000 people, maybe), and the mechanics and pleasures of anchoring were lovely to discover after the long winter in a marina, then few protected places in Sicily and Calabria to drop the hook.

While anchored in the bay of Vathi, Ithaka, we rented a car for a day to look around the island – fascinating in light of a recent reading Herb Jordan’s wonderful new translation of the Odyssey (available through Amazon, published by the University of Oklahoma Press).  This is a region of very strong earthquakes, and there is little standing in the way of classical ruins. But the island is rugged, mountainous, mostly in a state of near (but very dry) wilderness. It reinforces the impression of Greece as a very sparsely populated land – except for a few big cities, mainly Athens and Thessaloniki.

The big city on Ithaka

A thoughtful quote, displayed in Stavros, Ithaka

Some experts say the pointy mountain in the center of the photo was the site of Odysseus home

This reflects the trend toward “labor saving” devices on boats, which are fun while they work. But they are not reliable like the old mechanical means for accomplishing the same thing without any energy-use, other than burning what you ate for lunch. All is well with Serafina’s excellent and very old anchor windlass (older than the boat, I think). We did notice that our markers for every 30 feet of anchor chain have been wearing off, so those are being touched up during this latest interlude in a marina to take care of some things that involve travel to Germany.

Our trusty windlass, with a handle made in Marie Churney’s shop

Renewing the chain marks

Late afternoon at anchor

The bay that was our favorite was on the north end of Meganisi – one of the Ionian islands. It was a very quiet spot – just two small businesses in the whole bay – one a terraced tavern with excellent food and a profusion of plants and butterflies. The other place was a tiny outdoor bar and book exchange with gravel paths between tables, and a friendly ouzo dispensing proprietor originally from Albania.

Kittens, cats and dogs were running free, and the display of butterflies was striking, for people from an urban, or semi-urban environment. Some were big lemon yellow, some smaller and black and white, and there were honey bees everywhere. This could well be the result of an island that’s too poor, and not agricultural enough to support the widespread use of pesticides.  It did remind me though, of how isolated most of us are from what nature used to be like. Poets and painters who rhapsodized about meadows and streams would find a rather different environment in most parts of the world. But in this quiet little bay, they would feel at home.

Taverna on Meganisi

Of course, it’s not good to romanticize things too much. Pesticides played a role in reducing endemic malaria throughout most of the southern Mediterranean and Aegean. It was so common that there is even a widespread genetic variation in the southern Mediterranean that offers some protection against the parasite – oddly at the cost of making fava beans potentially toxic to the people that have it. It means that malaria was common enough even a mild protection conferred a significant survival and thus reproductive advantage on those who had the mutation.

This can lead to some further debate about the terrible misuse of DDT in the 1950s and 1960s for mass application for agriculture. In malaria-prone areas, it is still a very valuable tool against the disease – and does not need to be applied in such a way that it exterminates all the insect life in the area.

Current societies and governments seem incapable of unbiased, humane and competent management of such issues. So we depend on out of the way places like Meganisi to remind us of how beautiful and varied the natural world can be.

Hauling nets early in the morning

Passing Oxia island

Entering Vathi Bay

June 7, 2016

We’re now in Preveza, an outgrowth of the ancient Nicopolis (City of Victory), built to celebrate Octavian’s 31 B.C. victory in a naval battle against the forces of Anthony and Cleopatra. We’re in a small, low-key marina, stocking up on water and groceries and doing laundry.

This follows eight days at anchor in a lovely bay in front of the very small town of Lakka on the island of Paxos. What a nice stay! The bay was clean and beautiful, and we swam at least once a day, more often twice, read a lot, and worked on our tans. Vid Vandre was close by.

The drive to town

The town of Lakka

Anchoring is such a pleasure! No docks (and no cost), rowing and swimming for exercise, and a nearby town offering very good food and drink at very reasonable prices. Although we’re adapting to retsina, there is sometimes good red wine available too. In the 12 days after leaving Corfu we only used half our fresh water, so we’re much encouraged about our ability to spend big chunks of time living on our own resources.

Between taking a bus to another town on the island, and sailing the 36 miles to Preveza yesterday, I was surprised by how empty Greece is, population-wise. Forests of tall olive trees cover Paxos, and on the mainland miles and miles of rugged mountains are bare of any towns or houses. A little research, and here’s a fact that surprised me – the population of Greece is smaller than that of Cuba, or, for that matter, the Chinese city of Shenzhen! 10.8 million people, total, in the entire nation. Warren Buffet could restore the entire economy to health out of his petty-cash drawer!

Anyway, there is a lot of awareness of the economic difficulties here, and a keen interest in international politics. The marina manager, a young guy getting by in a pretty clearly marginal job, asked me if I’d be going back to the U.S. to vote. I said, “No, I’m a socialist and I don’t support either of the candidates.” That produced a fist bump, and a story. He told me that a couple months ago he’d had an American in the marina who said he was going back to vote for Donald Trump. “Then,” he said to the guy, “today is your last day in the marina.”

We left our friends and traveling companions Morten and Anne-Inge in Lakka, and miss them. We hope to see them again in Kalamata in September after their return to Norway for the summer. We’ll leave here tomorrow morning for another ten or twelve days at anchor, first on the island of Maganisi, then on Ithaca – Odysseus’s home.