4 days travelling - 1 second with Natasha

I think the title says it all.




We left on Monday at midday exactly with a fair wind and fairly calm seas. The plan was to sail to the boat yard, haul Nina out, and spend a couple of days working on Natasha... Of course, I neglected the eighteenth rule of seamanship: If you plan, then they will be forcibly changed every second until you give up planning.



As we entered out first safe harbour (planned stop 1 night) a 7/8 southerly blew up - right into the harbour. We moored best we could with a broken anchor windlass and a lot of help from the local fishermen - and there we sat for 36 hrs until the storm blew out.



Of course, having been stuck in a small harbour for 36 hrs somewhat drained the batteries, so when the wind had abated enough for us to finally leave the harbour, the engine wouldn't start (remember rule 18?). This added another three hours.



Battery charged and we are underway. We have the remains of the wind on the port side and are making good time. Next stop - the smallest inhabited Greek island.



Damn it was gorgeous!



This was one of two islands near Pelion if you are looking on the map. The smaller of the two is called Donkey Island and is so called because of a particularly randy donkey who would screw anything he could find. To preserve their goat stock, children, and the exhaust pipe of the one and only tractor on the island, the donkey was banished to this previously uninhabited island.



We arrive in the main port on Thursday. Because of the broken windlass we moor alongside the main quay much to the consternation of the local fishermen who then barrack us almost continually for the next 24 hours until we leave. Because we had planned to moor alongside (as opposed to the more common and considerate stern in) we had checked with the port police beforehand that this would be ok. It was of course - but rule 18 strikes again.



We left earlier than planned on Friday morning because the natives were starting to bang their spears on their shields. This meant taking the foresail down at sea. Fortunately it didn't get too wet and was mostly dry by the time we got it into a sail bag.



It took a couple of attempts to get the boat hauled out. Not our fault this time. The trailer had been set a little low and the keel was grounding on the slipway - back in the water and try again... It was second time lucky.



Half an hour later, everything was stowed and we were leaving Nina for the final time this year. I just had time to walk over to Natasha (whose hull had been jet washed) to find where the paint has come off has revealed a small amount of rot on one of the planeing ribs. No biggy to fix - I was just hoping for no rot at all.



That was it - 1 touch, 1 second, 5 days travelling (I still had to get back)