Winter Weather Windows
Our time in Athens kept getting extended. First we got weathered in when we had hoped to go visit a couple of nearby islands. But we had ordered a watermaker so decided to just sit tight until it arrived. We had held off on buying one (we could have had it installed before we picked up the boat) because there are so many different types, with different outputs, power requirements, space requirements, etc. and we wanted to learn what our water needs were before purchasing, so that we could make an informed decision. Once it arrived and we picked it up, we were again stymied by high winds and heavy weather. Nothing to do but get to work installing it.
After much consideration, lengthy discussions, measuring, and thinking, we had purchased an AC watermaker that produces 37 gallons of water per hour. It’s not the highend ‘push-a-button' variety, but should be very simple to operate. It desalinates the seawater, discharging brine back into the ocean and supplying potable water to our fresh water tank. The plan was to install it in the lazarette - the big ‘basement’ area accessed from outside below the aft deck. Tom had planned out where all the parts and pieces would fit and how to wire and plumb it. However, upon closer inspection, it turned out we couldn’t put it in the lazarette as planned because there is one area where the fiberglass is too thin to bolt the 48” long, heavy membranes. Some of the structural areas of the fiberglass are 2” thick while the back deck gutters are less than half an inch. So, we had to come up with another plan.
Fortunately, Tom is great at thinking outside the box and he found a way to fit all the necessary parts into the engine room! This, as luck would have it, is a much nicer arrangement. It means we don’t have to go outside and crawl around in the lazarette in rough seas and foul weather to make water. Instead, we can just descend into the engine room, where its always warm and there’s plenty of headroom, to turn on the watermaker. It took him three days to get everything bolted down, plumbed and wired. This included untold number of trips to and from a dozen different chandleries looking for this fitting or that adaptor. We certainly got some miles in! And it’s a good thing we were still in Athens.
Making an eye splice in dyneema requires tapering the tail by trimming off every 6th strand spaced evenly over a length 30 times the diameter of the line.
Meanwhile, I learned how to properly splice line so I could upgrade our dinghy davit. I oiled a few small areas of teak on the boat, cleaned out our sump pump, worked on meal planning and provisioning for our transit east, and then finally began passage planning.
A passage plan is a comprehensive, daily navigational guide, developed to determine the most favorable route, to identify potential problems or hazards along the way, and to ensure the boat’s safe passage. I used several wind and wave models checking the conditions in each plotted location at the time I expected to be there. I also read the anchoring reports on a couple of cruising sites as well as in our pilot guides about possible anchorages based on the predicted weather, the holding of the seafloor, and the direction of protection for shelter from wind. We all know how reliable weather forecasts are, so a passage plan should always include alternative sheltering options should conditions change unexpectedly. We had about eight days, plenty of time to cross the Aegean, before our monthly Greek tax ran out. We were aiming for a leisurely hopscotch from island to island before arriving in Kos, where we would check out of Greece in the morning and later that day travel just a few miles to the Port of Turgutreis, Turkey where we would check in.
I realized, however, that our weeklong gentle cruise was really going to need to be a four day direct crossing, as during the latter half of our eight day window we would again encounter snotty weather. I have learned that the winter weather windows here are quite short! That being said, it is possible to cover some distance during these abbreviated periods, but you must be willing to transit quite a long way when the seas allow. So that was the plan. The forecast models indicated that the beginning of our journey would be great conditions while the weather would build as the week went on. The plan was to get as many miles under our keel the first couple of days and hopefully stay ahead of the northerlies blowing in.
After four hours of planning I was just halfway there! (Hoping I get better at this)
We left Athens early Sunday morning in what we had expected would be rough water conditions, but we trusted it would settle down over time. We wanted to leave early, rather than wait for calmer seas later in the day, because we prefer to arrive where we’re going in the daylight. Leaving later would have meant arriving after dark which does not make for stress-free anchoring! Fortunately, we are both morning people, so getting up early is not a problem for us. Within a few hours Meraki was again moving gently over the waves and we arrived in our first anchorage in Kea late that afternoon tired and content.
Departing Zea Marina, Piraeus, Athens.
We again arose early and cruised into the day. The glassy, calm sea was beyond description. I had no idea the open ocean could be so gentle, so smooth, so mirror-like. In the predawn light there is nothing on the horizon but a faint silver line separating the sky from the ocean, surrounded by shades of blue in every direction. I felt tiny, like a single star in a vast universe, simultaneously small yet expansive. Another lesson learned; offshore cruising can be uncomfortable: wrought with unpredictable weather, rough sea conditions and strong currents. And it can also be the most tranquil, soothing, invigorating, energizing sensation ever experienced!
Monday we cruised to Paros and the day passed so smoothly I barely remember it. We took turns at the helm and during my watch, I listened to music, considered passing ships, stood on the forward deck absorbing the warmth of the sun, searched for dolphins, and gazed into the future.
Day three was going to be a long one. The southerly winds were expected to turn northerly around midnight so we needed to make it to the island of Patmos where we would anchor in a bay protected from all but a west wind. It would be an eleven hour cruise so we needed to haul anchor at 5am! Coffee would have to wait until we were underway. It was a tricky exit in the pitch dark with small fishing boats all around and we were thankful we had anchored close to the entrance of the bay where there were no reefs or other hidden hazards. The departure anxiety quickly subsided as we set a course into the glassy Aegean. I made coffee and waited for sunrise. All I can say is sailing eastward on a broad, seemingly boundless ocean, as the sun slides effortlessly through a cloak of clouds on the horizon up into the sky…well, it changes you. It can be, quite literally, breathtaking.
We arrived in Patmos just in time for sundowners on the back deck surrounded by a steep rocky hillside covered with goats, the serene sound of bells tinkling across the rippling water. This third night at anchor, however, was less than restful. The wind indeed picked up in the wee hours along with a bit of sea swell, and we both awoke multiple times to check our position, the anchor holding, and the wind speed and direction. All was fine, we were in a safe place, and so glad we had pushed hard the previous few days as we were now just one last transit from our final destination.
We set our sights on Kos Marina knowing the voyage would be rougher than the previous ones. We left after daybreak (what a pleasant change) but in a totally choppy sea. The predicted wind should have been behind us, but instead it was on our beam with breaking waves and a short, irregular swell rolling in from all directions. The boat was pitching and rocking as we set our course. On our passage plan for the day we had routed the shortest distance to Kos but we realized, after a couple of unpleasant hours slowly rolling in confused seas, that we could reroute ourselves onto the leeward side of some of the upcoming islands and, despite lengthening our passage time, it would likely be a more comfortable ride. This proved to be a great decision with much calmer seas, a far more enjoyable cruise and, without the choppy waves decreasing our speed, the altered route only delayed our arrival time by about 15 minutes! Lesson #783: critical thinking is essential.
Just a little eye candy while strolling the streets of Kos.
We tied up in Kos Marina where we would begin the exit procedure required when leaving the country. We planned to enjoy some time ashore (dry land at last!), do some exploring, and reprovision the boat before entering Turkey. And we had arrived just in time. We recorded winds of 30 knots on our weather station that night coupled with torrential rains and we could not have been happier to be inside a breakwater tied to a concrete pier!
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