Friday,24th May 2013 Kiparissia

Vengeance of the Gods?

Well, we've had a bit of a time of it! Did we upset the Gods or something? Had a good sail to Kiparissia, the timing was right as the wind was due to pick up a bit (F7?) and go to the SW then SE - staying in Katakolon would not have been an option. We arrived at a civilised time, got ourselves anchored and tied stern to the harbour wall. Next to us was an Austrian boat and we were soon joined on the other by a German boat. Free Spirit did not want to anchor and went alongside an enormous breakwater on the other side of the harbour. The wind did pick up a bit, and then a bit more. Or rather a lot more. The Austrian boat (much bigger than us) was leaning in on us. His anchor was clearly not holding. We commented on this and the fact that we were rock solid, but could not do the holding for both our boats. He claimed not to be dragging. Meanwhile the German boat on our other side did drag and promptly upped and off to go alongside the fisherman's area of the quay. He did it in time whilst it was still a F7/8. Meanwhile the Austrian decided things did not look good, but wanted us to move as he feared getting his keel caught up in our chain.

We thought so too, so made to get away. It was now 11:30pm and dark. It was also blowing old boots. Our dinghy was attached forward, to be out of the way when stern to the quay and we thought that would be fine as we worked forward. Quel horreur! We had to release ourselves and rush forward on the engine to avoid being blown onto a French boat lying alongside while getting the anchor up. The dinghy decided to wrap itself round the chain, then fly in the air like a kite, up-end itself back down in the water and generally make a nuisance of itself. Once clear of the French boat, R came forward briefly to help hoik the dinghy up on deck. Normally in these berthing situations, W drives and R anchors, but I didn't want to be the one responsible for crashing the boat so R drove! W carried on doing battle with the chain and anchor with the dinghy now dancing on deck and periodically sending me flying against the guardrails. I wondered where all those bruises came from! All up and it took us at least 30 minutes to get ourselves into a position where we could try and come alongside a sheltered bit where the assorted company of itinerant sailors were waiting to help. We could not see a thing, we knew there were buoys and pots in the water, there were big rocks and boulders off the breakwater, Richard's glasses got swept off so he couldn't see anything anyway and it was blowing a steady Force 10 (much more than anticipated). Our engine was barely man enough - we gave it about six goes and the bow would sheer off dangerously. We finally got ourselves into a position where we felt confident, we had everything ready and Richard went for it hell for leather - handbrake turn and we kissed gently alongside, had lines take by the assembled mob, and all was well.

Not so for the Austrian. As soon as we left the quay, it was proved right that he was dragging. His bow immediately fell off to starboard, he tried desperately to get himself off the quay in time, but smashed into the French boat as he made his exit. Thankfully the French boat was not badly damaged (mostly gelcoat) and they dealt with it with a certain sang-froid. But the Austrian boat really suffered, ripping the toe rail and top of topsides about 2-3 metres long. They were out then in the maelstrom at the same time as us, so we were trying to avoid them as well as the rocks and buoys. Despite being a bigger boat, they could not get themselves back and ended up anchoring free in the harbour, with the owner keeping the engine on all night to steady her. We, along with all the others, had waited up to help if necessary. By 2am all admitted defeat. Managed to get to bed by 4am for a couple of hours uneasy sleep.

Viv and Alan had a terrible night, to the extent that they packed a grab bag and their rucksacks in case they needed to abandon ship in the middle of the night. They were powerless to help us (as we were to help them) but texted reassurance once all was well. Next day wind changed direction and although eased somewhat, more gale 7's and 8's were forecast and the alongside berth became untenable. After watching the boat rear up and down and against the quay for hours with fenders flattened to thin wafers and a warp finally snapping under the force of the surge (thank heavens it was warp and not cleat that gave!) we decided it would be safer and give us more peace of mind to leave and anchor off - we could rely on our own strong anchor and chain and then dance freely about as much as we liked! A couple of others had already done that. Some would stay behind and regret it. The French boat was staying as they had a dog on board. They wanted to help us off, as we were again near them, but we asked them to just stand by. I know they were worried about their boat, but we have tested our method of reverse springing off many times and the French don't understand it - they keep trying to pull us in. This was a case of hesitation and nambyism being dangerous, once ready, you needed to be positive and quick. And so it was textbook stuff, bravo Richard - the French were impressed - they gave a salute and offered copious wine at a later date...

Yes the wind got up again, but only to F7, the sea state was not too bad and we had a much better night. As did Free Spirit, who also managed to escape their breakwater, which had spray and huge waves crashing over the top to spreader height. We had walked round to them earlier. That way later became impassible with waves crashing through a break in the wall.

So all is now relative calm. Richard's glasses were found on deck by the forward shroud, amazingly still intact. So waiting for the wind and sea state to subside before carrying on south - what better way than to read, write and do a few repairs. We feel lucky. So maybe the Gods smiled on us after all. And the little boat looked after us too.