(or ’Did we beat the other buggers here?’)
With Cape Maleas behind us, we could now drift up the coastline to Monemvasia. R has mentioned previously that Monemvasia is sometimes called the ‘Gibraltar of the East’, but I think that is rather unfair to Monemvasia (apologies to any Gib-lovers out there). The only similarity is that they are both large rocks connected to the mainland by a short causeway. [Ed – and Monemvasia’s isthmus doesn’t include an airport!]
R and I had visited here in 2004 after the flotilla season with our friends Susie and Bente, and had stayed in an idyllic hotel on the rock. Our room had a huge terrace with garden furniture where we enjoyed an apero before dinner. It may also have been the first place that we were introduced to “horta” – a dish of slightly bitter greens, served with olive oil and lemon juice. [Ed – it looked like big dandelion leaves to me.]
I had it in my mind that Monemvasia was a place where we had to anchor, but two lots of friends who are a few weeks ahead of us had both gone into the mainland marina/harbour on the south-side of the rock. There is also an old ferry quay jutting out from the north side of the causeway [Ed – but the ferries along the eastern Peloponnese don’t seem to run anymore, which makes the place feel even more remote].
The marina has a mix of mooring styles: in some places you can drop an anchor and go stern-to; but in others you have to go alongside as there is no space to drop the anchor without blocking the entrance. We went into the marina to find every boat parked alongside, and not particularly well, as there were large gaps between, just not long enough to squeeze another yacht in.
We tried to go in front of a large catamaran (‘cat’), but with usual Gallic aplomb and a shrug, the French owner told us we couldn’t moor there as he was going to move the cat along, and, and, and… We didn’t really understand why, but he helpfully trotted along the marina, showed us a space much further in and took our lines. We should have gone stern-to, but a bit lazily, we also went alongside as everyone else was.
There was a huge mechanical digger dredging sand out of the harbour from a huge floating platform. We think they are adding in pontoons, but it does cut down on the existing space.
Our friends on ‘Money Penny’ had also been in tandem with a Sailing Holidays flotilla, and they reported back that space seemed to have been reserved for the flotilla. We therefore expected them to moor up on the large open quay, opposite the dredger. The two lead crew boats turned up and went stern-to near the harbour entrance. Hmm. Not long after, one of the two skippers turned up, and asked us why we had gone alongside and not stern-to. Fair question! We replied, rather weakly, that everyone else had. Would we mind having two smaller boats rafted out from us? Not at all!
Now, for those of you who haven’t seen boats rafted out, this is what happens.
Missy Bear was port-side to against the quay. We have one mooring line from our bow and one from our stern straight to the quayside (to stop the yacht going in and out from the quay). We also have two spring lines (these are at acute angles to the quay and stop the yacht moving backwards and forwards.)
A second boat comes alongside. Etiquette requires that they lie the opposite way, i.e., their bow is alongside our stern. This is better for privacy, and it means the boats’ standing rigging (shrouds and spreaders) is not aligned in the same place to avoid it clashing together if there is a swell. They put two mooring lines and two springs onto Missy Bear.
A third boat goes alongside the second boat, following the same process. But the third boat also puts two longer shore-lines straight to the quay, so that Missy Bear’s lines are not taking the load of three yachts.
The final act of this scenario is how the crew from the third and second boats get ashore. Well, they climb over the guard rails (wires) along the side of their boats, going around the bows of the next boat, over the wires again, around the bows etc., until they can step onto the quay. It is not the done-thing to go through another boat’s cockpit. Etiquette suggests that you also take your shoes off and go bare foot until you get to the quay. And there you have it. Rafting up 101.
And I have to say that the Sailing Holidays Lead Crew did this to the letter, and asked the crew of the yachts to take their shoes off before stepping on Missy Bear.
We quite enjoyed having neighbours, especially as we happened to know the crew on the outermost yacht! It was a Scooby Doo moment when the skipper took off her shades and I recognised her! We had all worked for the same company (Andersen Consulting) many years ago. And it gave us a good excuse to share an apero on board and to recall that the last time we bumped into each other was in Barbados! Heaven knows how we will top that at the next random rendezvous.
[A quick aside. When we were on flotilla, guests used to leave half-empty bottles of alcohol for us when they returned home – vodka, gin, ouzo (yuk), wine etc. But we were working and couldn’t really drink this, so we used to store it in a deep, open shelf on our lead boat Evensong. Every so often we would throw an impromptu party for guests on the quayside to get rid of some of it. One client, rather rudely, came across Evensong through her cockpit rather than across her bow. She stared down into our galley with mouth open, and said loudly “OMG, look at all that booze”. The next party was after she had gone!]
Meanwhile, back in Monemvasia… Early the next morning (just as the sun was rising), R sprung from our bed, and said “Come on, let’s climb the rock before the coach parties arrive”. Off we trot, across the causeway, and take a path to the upper town. Richard has written a blog about Monemvasia itself (‘Violet City’), so I won’t repeat the boring stuff. We get up to the highest church only to find it was not open until the next day. There is a fort at an even higher point, but for once Sir Edmund Hillary doesn’t suggest scaling the final summit, and we are allowed to descend into the lower town in search of the first coffee of the day. The cobbled path is extremely well-worn, shiny and slippery, and I followed the example of the woman in front of me who used the side wall to hold on to.
As we reached the lower part, we saw a signpost “To the end of the town”. R thought I was bonkers when I start reciting “James James Morrison Morrison” etc, and muttered something about the way my brain works, but his education obviously didn’t include AA Milne. [Ed – I ready Winnie the Pooh!]
After a decent walk, we felt justified in lounging around in our cockpit. By this time, we had talked to a number of the flotilla guests, and they would stop and say hello as they walked past the boat. Quite a few said what a lovely boat Missy Bear was, and she just lapped it up. If MB were a dog, she’d have rolled over and had her tummy tickled! Once couple said they were thinking of buying a boat, and came on board to chat to us about our experiences. [Ed – They were from Doncaster. I knew that they were from around there, because at about 6pm she said that they were going to have their 'tea']
Sadly, all good things come to an end, and the flotilla boats departed just after 7am the next morning. They had a long sail (motor) in front of them, and needed to get away. We had decided to stay an extra day or we would have been racing them to the Dettol and the wire brush.
We strolled back over to the rock, and did touristy things - bought postcards, had coffee, walked to the lighthouse etc. Later on, I enjoyed an afternoon with my book, while Richard was invited onto the next boat by a Norwegian solo sailor called John, where they talked man’s things and drank beer.
Our final social event in Monemvasia happened the next morning. An old student of Richard’s (when he was a sailing instructor) had moved back to Greece from the UK, and split his time between Athens and Kythera. He was sailing his own boat back to Kythera (not far away) and called in Monemvasia to have coffee with us. It’s a small sailing world out there.
https://www.noforeignland.com/boat/6108757043970048
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