It blows in the east

When the wind died down, we sailed together with our neighboring boat a few hours further east to Itea. From here it is only half an hour's drive to Delphi and the famous Oracle.

Delphi an alpine town 

Delphi is located on the hillside of Mount Parnassos. In the main street, hotels, taverns and cafés lie side by side. Many right up to the edge of the steep and high rock wall. There are also steep, narrow streets here. The view of the mountains and the valley we came from was picturesque, almost dramatic and the air fresh and clear.

Most of all, Delphi reminded of a ski resort in the Alps. Perhaps not so surprising, since it is only an hour's drive to a ski resort with 19 slopes. Yes, in fact, there are a dozen ski resorts in Greece, which is not what you, at least as a Dane, associate Greece with. 

(Very little) about the Oracle

Ancient Greece consisted of many independent city-states. The language, the gods and their worship were similar, but nothing else tied the 700 city-states together.

Several sports competitions were held every four years, but it is the competitions in the city-state of Olympia that we today associate with ancient Greece and today's Olympic Games. 

Several states had an oracle, but when we talk about an oracle today, it is usually the oracle in Delphi that comes to mind. Perhaps very natural. For the oracle at Delphi was the largest and most respected.

People came from near and far. Through the priestesses they got Zeus's son Apollo answer to personal and political questions and paid for it with sacrifices. With Christianity, the worship of several gods disappeared and during the fourth century the oracle lost its function after 1.200 years of operation. 

We stayed a few hours. Walked around the surprisingly large area. Read the pamphlet we had been given and learned a little more when we occasionally listened to passing companies with a guide. 

Vrachti a ghost port 

Now we only had a day's sail to the Corinth Canal. It would be best to be there in the morning. Then later in the day we would be able to to the first marina on the other side of the channel. 

Barely an hour's sail from the entrance to the Corinth Canal is the small town of Vrachati. 

It is a popular resort town with hotels, taverns, cafes, shops spread along a long white sandy beach and a population that shrink to a few thousand when the summer is over. 

A few years ago, a large marina with space for 500-600 boats was built here. On the land area, like in the rest of the city, should have been taverns, cafes and shops. 

But construction works had obviouly suddenly stopped. 

Now the half-finished empty marina stood with its deserted land as the depressing result of a three-figure million investment that had clearly gone wrong. 

Was it due to the debt crisis, technical problems or poor planning?

We didn't find out and only in the morning we left together with our neighbor from Trizonia the ghostly marina and headed for the Corinth Canal. 

Korinth canal - another canal 

We called the canal guard as you should when approaching the canal. 

Didn't quite understand the answer and answered

»Not understood, please repeat«

We didn't understand even when the guard repeated his message slightly irritated. 

Well, but we had sailed through countless canals and locks on our way down to the Mediterranean. So how difficult could it be. The entrance to the canal was shielded by two stone piers. Inside was a pilot boat moored to a wooden bridge, but apart from that, there were no opportunities to dock. 

The entry control light was green. From our time on the canels, we knew that hessitance is rarely, if ever, rewarded. 

So we kept our course and steered straight towards the opening of the canal. 

When we had almost reached the control light, it suddenly sounded furiously from the speakers on the pier

»Heron, turn around and get out«

We turned the rudder and steered towards the opening between the two stone piers. When we were almost there, we turned again and set about circling the area within the piers.  

We didn't get very far before it sounded angrily again from the loudspeakers. 

»Heron. Get out of the area«

It was not to be misunderstood. We sailed out through the opening between the two piers and went into a waiting position. 

Kløvedal writes in one of his books that there are two types of sailors. Those who have been aground and then those who say they haven't. He himself, he continues, hit the ground with the Nordkaperen at the entrance to the Corinth Canal. 

Was it one of the stone piers he had come too close to? 

We kept clear of them as we circled slowly and waited. 

For what we did not know. 

The control light was green and on the MarineTraffic app we could see that there were no other boats in the channel. 

Were there new landslides? 

Would sailing on the canal be at risk of life if the angry voice in the loudspeakers changed its mind and let us into the canal? 

In the distance we could see a cargo ship. On MarineTraffic we could see it headed straight against us and the canal. 

Was this what we were waiting for? 

When the cargo ship was a nautical mile from us, the pilot boat came out and sailed to meet it. When they were very close to each other, the big ship slowed down, caught a line from the pilot boat and was now towed towards the canal. The catamaran followed and when the pilot boat went between the stone piers, this time it sounded almost friendly in the loudspeakers. 

»and now you Heron« 

We followed the catamaran into the channel while Pupu, our neighbor from Trizonia, followed us.

Behind us came a large motorboat roaring, and when Pupu fell a little behind, it sounded very determined from the loudspeakers. 

»Pupu.Speed ​​up« 

A smaller flotilla

This was how a smal convoy consisting of a pilot boat, a cargo ship, a catamaran, us, Pupu and a large motorboat entered the Corinth Canal. 

The canal is 24 meters wide, but it certainly didn't feel like it – perhaps because we were surrounded on both sides by vertical limestone walls that looked like they reached right up to the sky. In a few places there were still stones and soil from the landslide last year. Good thing the canal was unidirectional and that the guard had control of who was passing through. It would not have not been fun to meet another vessel here and not at all one like the cargo ship in front of us. 

In the middle of the canal, the walls were almost 80 meters high and covered with net held in place by small plates screwed into the porous limestone. This was probably to prevent new landslides. 

After almost half an hour of sailing, we reached a bridge from which people waved down to us. In addition to tourists who come to enjoy the spectacular view, there are also bungy jumpers who plunge into the depths towards the canal's turquoise waters.

However, we saw no one who tried and soon after we had passed, we were out of the canal. 

We docked at the jetty. Went into the control building from where the guards had followed us and paid probably the world's highest mileage price to sail on a canal.   

When we got out of the Corinth canal, we reached the small town of Korfos later in the day, which lies in a well-protected bay surrounded by high mountains.

The next morning we said goodbye to Pupu and headed for the small island of Poros, a few hours' sail south of Athens. 

Inexplicable reasons

On the Rhône we had met a young Dutch/French couple with whom we had sailed down the river and out into the Mediterranean.  

Later that year they had reached Greece. Here they had ended their sabbatical by putting the boat ashore and flying home to the Netherlands or Holland, as we call the country in Danish. Over the next few years, they had children and a bigger boat, which they now sailed with on holiday. 

They had also been married, but for inexplicable reasons the French authorities would not acknowledge a civil marriage in the Netherlands. However, for equally inexplicable reasons, they would acknowledge a wedding in Greece. 

So why not complete the marriage by getting married in the favorite bay on the island of Aegina just south of Athens?

They had planned the wedding and the wedding party months ago. A few days ago they had come to Greece. Now, like us, they were on their way to Poros and were already at the town quay when we arrived. 

We berthed next to their boat. Exactly as when we had met in Viviers on the Rhône five years ago.  

Surreal and nice to meet and reconnect as if the five years had only been five days. 

New visit 

Before we went through the Corinth Canal, we had received a message that our son, his girlfriend (as a wife is probably called these days) and our two grandchildren, aged 5 and 1, would be visiting at the beginning of October. 

It would be good to know something more about the area before they came. 

The next morning we sailed on to explore the area further south.

The wind conditions are different on the other side of the Korinth channel

»It always blows like hell over there,« as someone who knew both sides put it. 

And yes, during the summer period, the wind blows from the northeast. 

It has done this so regularly and for so many years that it has been given its own name. It was named Meltemi several thousand years ago, which several sources say means seasonal wind. 

It is differences in the pressures over the Mediterranean and Anatolia in Turkey that create the Meltemi. Occasionally it gets weaker at night. But for the most part it blows with undiminished strength for several days, even sometimes for several weeks. It can also be very powerful and whip the waves up to a height of 4-5 metres. 

The meltemi is strongest in the middle of the Aegean Sea, which lies between the Peloponnese and Turkey, and does not always reach the northeastern Peloponnese, where we were. 

On our way south we did not feel it, although it blew with a strong force half a hundred nautical miles further to the east. In the light wind we glided down along the Greek Riviera in the strait between Hydra and the Peloponnese and on to Porto Heli, where King Constantine or rather King Constantine, formerly King of the Hellenes, had lived with our Danish Anne Marie. 

Here we spent a couple of days and then sailed back to Poros

We met again with our Dutch/French friends and together we sailed to the city of Perdika on Aegina. Now there were only a few days until the wedding.  

The wedding 

Only on their wedding day did the couple leave the marina and sail out into their favorite bay, where they anchored. Later, festively dressed guests were sailed out to them in a tour boat, from where there was the first party for the wedding, which was performed on the foredeck by one of the couple's Greek friends. 

In the evening there was a festive dinner. Course after course was brought in, beer or wine was poured long before you could see the bottom of the glass and from the many tables happy voices hummed in French, Dutch and English.

During dinner, the wind had come from the north-west, which meant that there were also waves. But that did not deter the couple – despite the grandmothers' concern – to take the dinghy and row with the children into the dark to the boat where they spent the night. 

It was late before the party ended. Over noon the next day we sailed with the guests over to the small rocky island of Moni with the free-ranging deer and peacocks. We made our way to the sandy beach with the crystal clear water and enjoyed the relaxed camaraderie of the second day.. 

In the late morning the next day we said goodbye to each other again. They to haul out the boat and fly home. We to sail to Poros and meet our family. 

Reunion with family

On our trips, we communicate daily, and often several times a day, with the closest family on Messenger and Snapchat. But digital life cannot yet replace the physical. We felt this clearly when our son and his family arrived on the fast ferry from the Athens port city of Piraeus. 

The meltimi had reached us, which excluded sailing. 

But windy days have their charm. Heron was well protected at the south quay. The sun shone from a completely blue sky. The evenings were cool. The crystal clear water at the almost empty beaches was still warm. The view from the old Venetian fortress on top of the cliff was fantastic and on the way up there through the narrow winding streets, the three small family tavernas were still open. 

One of the days we took the fast ferry to the island of Hydra, which a number of artists rediscovered and moved to in the 60s. Maybe that's why there are no cars on the island and all transport is done by donkeys. Up at the top of the small town we found the house where Leonard Cohen had lived and written his first album with the hit "Suzanne". On the way back we walked along the water on the path carved into the vertical rock face and agreed that we could easily have spent much longer here.  

After a few days, the Meltemi lost its breath and we finally got out to sail. 

The day passed quickly. Suddenly it was time to say goodbye. 

After waving goodbye, we looked at each other. Then we pulled up anchor and sailed up to Aegina Marina to prepare for the winter.

Journey is over

We were lucky and got the last free berth in the marina. We thought so until we saw the wealth of ingenuity new guest boats exercised as they berthed in the packed marina. 

While we were preparing for the winter, we were visited by the owner of the boatyard where Heron was to spend the winter. 

If everything was ok and when we would like the haul out, he wanted to know.

A few days later we left Aegina Marina. Sailed the few nautical miles over to the north side of the island, found the yard and took a few deep breaths before we backed the Heron into the small dock on the beach. 

Then Heron was lifted out of the water with a nice big travel lift and propped up with wooden poles, just like they did at Humlebæk Boatyard in the good old days. 

The 2022 cruising was over:) 

Links

Corinth Canal

On why restraint is not rewarded

Film