Scattered

Or "Towards the Eastern Sporades"

When anyone mentions the ‘Sporades’, most people, like me, think of the islands of Skiathos and Skopolos, in the north-west Aegean. I would certainly have failed a pub quiz if asked to which island chain Lesbos and Samos belonged. But, dear reader, they are also the Sporades, albeit the named “Eastern Sporades”. [Ed, ‘sporades’ in Greek means “those scattered”. It basically referred to all the islands that were not in the Cyclades] That meant that, when we left Khalkidhiki, technically we were returning to the scattered islands.

We were quite sad to leave the marina of Porto Carras. We’d had a lovely berth beneath stunning pine-clad hills, with water and power included, and a nice waterside apero bar! We tried to alleviate the tristesse by returning to the lovely enclosed harbour of Porto Koufos for one night, and meeting up with our new Anglo-Italian friends, Bob and Cri for a fresh-fish supper.

The following night, with a forecast of calm winds overnight, and a good sailing day afterwards, we anchored in a sandy bay, down at the bottom of the Sithonia peninsular, ready for an easy and early start to Lemnos. We had a great anchorage spot, but as we were occupying the best bit, the catamaran that followed us in had to go anchor further round, just off the nudist beach. I could see Richard wondering whether we had made a mistake.

“Chocks away” at 05:50, and we were sailing on the next part of Missy Bear’s adventure. The wind angle for a direct sail to Lemnos was reasonable, but by motor-sailing up to the tip of the Athos peninsular, we created a better wind angle for a more, comfortable and speedy sail to the island.

All was well. We admired the sunrise over Mount Athos, and marvelled at the incredible number of small monasteries clinging onto the precipitous rocks at the tip, most of which we hadn’t seen from our previous glass-bottomed boat trip. We were happily motor-sailing along in flat seas at 09:00 with just the mainsail up, when Richard decided to go below and make himself a cup of tea.

Wooooosh!!! Suddenly, the wind shot up from next to nothing, to gusting well into the mid-20s. Where there was light-blue water, now it was dark. Where there was flat sea, now there were lines of excitable white horses. Where Missy Bear was upright, she was no heeling over on her right ear. The wind was funnelling round and over the mountain peak and cliffs, as it is wont to do! Kettle off, and all hands-on deck (well, both of us).

Richard bore-away from the wind to reduce the heel and the apparent wind. We put two reefs in the sails and soon we were sailing along at 7.4 knots, and in a comfortable manner. This hadn’t been forecast, but the tip of Mount Athos is notorious for gusting wind. [Ed – Xerxes lost many ships here on his first attempted raid on the Greek-speaking lands. To void the headland on his second attempt, he had his slaves but a canal through the rock at the neck of the periinsular]

The wind stayed with us for an hour and a half, with the sea getting much choppier. But as we were making excellent progress, who could complain?

By 10.30, as the peak moved further astern, we shook out both reefs, and by just after midday, we were motor sailing again.

Sailing away from Mount Athos

We did manage to sail again as we reached the port of Myrina on Lemnos, just after 14:00. We were hoping to get on the quay, but with a forecast strong blow coming in, the harbour was full. Well, it wasn’t actually full but a large speed boat had lines out across the space where two other boats could have berthed. We called the harbour authorities who came down to talk to the boat’s crew, but the owner wasn’t there and they did not have the mandate to ask them to move the boat's lines. Apparently..

We cut our losses and chugged down to a nearby anchorage with supposedly good shelter from northerly winds. The wind came up in the night as forecast, and we spent the next 36 hours twirling around on our anchor like a dervish. The bay wasn’t particularly sheltered from the wind, but the sea state was flat, and our 25kg Delta anchor was well dug into the sand. We were safe, if a bit tired.

As a back-up plan, we looked at our various sailing Apps and pilot guides for alternative anchorages. We could have motored for an hour-and-a-half further east to a long inlet which received rave reviews on shelter, but would it be any better? One of our Apps (NoForeignLand) showed us that there was a UK yacht anchored there already, and Richard sent them a message via NFL, asking them what it was like. They replied within minutes to say that they were getting gusts of over 40 knots, and were also being pushed around by waves. So, we decided to stay put.

There was a Mark Warner resort in the bay. There were no water-skiers or sailing dinghies as it was too windy. We were entertained by a few hardy souls who were wind-surfing by clinging on to the hand rail for dear life.

And gradually, and after another night of this, the wind started easing on the second day. Suddenly, the water-skiers were out, as were the little dinghies. Richard dinghied out to the headland for a morning walk, bird and deer-spotting. Then we both went ashore for a walk up to the old village. We decided to go back ashore to the beach taverna for dinner.

Missy Bear with the bay to herself

Missy Bear at anchor, after the wind subsided

View from the beach bar

Next morning, we motored the short distance back to the port of Myrina and got a great space on the harbour wall ready to explore the beautiful port and the whole island at large. And smile 😊