Police and thieves

In the morning we walked the few hundred meters to the boat yard, where Heron had spent the winter in a steel frame, after we went home to Denmark in October.

We found the ladder the shipyard had put up for us. Set it up aft and went up. Our fenders, which we had provided with dog-like covers in the autumn, were lying on the deck. All. Completely as we had left them. And also our dinghy was lashed in its blue bag on the ruff. But the varnish on the edges of the hatches to the descent had peeled off, although the cloth still shielded from the strong sunlight. 

Strange 

Below deck it was dirty to put it mildly, but the cleaning had to wait until after the launch.

We went through the checklist

  Diesel supply (opened)
  Sea valves (checked and opened)
  Batteries (12,7 volts)

Next check did not go quite so well.

There was water in the engine room.

Strange

I tasted it, which is the first thing to do when you discover water in your boat. Well, maybe not when it's on land, but reflex clearly won out over reason this time.

Last check revealed that there was even more water amidships.

Strange

The water was drained out, leaving the bottom with a lot of sand and fine soil.

The next day, Heron was launched into the water. The engine started without any problems, but stopped shortly after.

So we were now going to mess with ventilation while the increasing wind pressed Heron against the concrete quay?

"Give full throttle without gear," shouted the yard manager, who helped with the launch.

And quite right. Now the engine continued to run, emitting cooling water that hit the surface with soothing rhythmic splashes.

We sailed the short distance over to the port. Docked in 8 m/s strong crosswind. Spent the rest of the day making the aft cabin habitable. Unpacking had to wait until the next day. Late in the afternoon we met with the crews of the other three Danish boats that had spent the winter in the same boat yard as Heron. They had started their sailing two weeks earlier. Now they had sailed back to the marina to greet us and had arranged a joint dinner at one of the restaurants by the beach.

What!!!!

The next morning we discovered that the line used to roll the genoa in was gone. Well yes that's what can happen. The morning was spent getting a new one. After noon we started rigging the genoa and opened the hatch in the deck where the sheets were. They were not there.

Strange

Then we started unpacking. Only then did we discover that the guitar was gone. And not just the guitar. The Bose Mini speaker was also gone. The same was over half of the cutlery we had received as a gift many years ago. Two of the three sunshades we had had sewn for a small fortune last year had also disappeared. The same was the smart led torch we had found and bought online. The same was and the same was… .. The list got longer and longer.

We called the insurance company. Then resentfully the yard, who insisted that our key had been stored in a locked locker to which no unauthorized person had access.

Police and thieves

After a few calls, we managed to find out that in Greece, break-ins on boats is reported to the port police - even if the boat is on land.

New call. This time to the port police.

“Are you in danger right now? asked the man.

We did not think so and repeated that we would like to report a break-in on our boat.

"Come to our office after six," the voice answered

"Well," we protested. “It is very difficult for us to come to you. Can't we fix it on the phone? ”

But there was nothing to be done. Without attendance no review.

We called our insurance company again. No reporting to the police no covering of the loss, was the short message

A bit unmanageable to find a taxi and explain to the driver that we were going to the harbor police, for which we did not have the address. 

But help was near.

Babis, the harbor's super-friendly and helpful cafe owner and harbor master, found a taxi. Instructed the driver to drive us to Igoumenitsa, follow us all the way into the office, wait for us and drive us back when we were finished.

The building where the port police was stationed was huge. Our driver led us up to the first floor. Here he exchanged a few words with a lady at the reception, after which a policeman came and asked us to take a seat in the waiting room.

While we waited, four young men - the youngest probably no more than 13-14 years old - were led through the waiting room in handcuffs and into an interrogation room where we could hear them being questioned. We understood as much as that they had fled Kabul in Afghanistan and would now be sent east on. 

We didn't wait long before a policeman came out to us smiling and in good English asked me to come into his office.

"So what happend" he asked kindly.

"Let's take this one more time," he repeated several times during the next hour. When he had finished, he invited Pia inside and in the next hour asked her the same questions. Then he wrote a two-page report, explained what was in it and asked us to sign it.

"Could be gypsies" he concluded and added that it was not very difficult to pry open a lock, that the thieves had probably had lots of time and left the hatch open, which explained the large amounts of water in the boat. That the hatch was locked when we arrived, he attributed that the thieves had wanted to hide the burglary as long as possible.

Ir was dark when we left building and we were tired when we drove back to Heron. Had a quick dinner and went to bed.

Back to Corfu

The next day we set up the genoa while there was still no wind. The spinnaker sheets, which the thieves had so generously left, we used as a replacement for the stolen genoa sheets. Shortly after, we left the port and headed for Gouvia Marina on Corfu. Here we would be able to get the most necessary of the missing equipment and get things repaired that were broken.

On the way out of the marina, we discovered that our handheld VHF had also been stolen. The Excel sheet with the overview of stolen effects was increased by another row.

There was no wind. We motored and enjoyed the first sailing of the year in the gentle waters. Great to be out after 10 months.

Last year we had spent a month based in Gouvia Marina while sailing around the area. Maybe that was why it felt like coming home when we moored to the guest pontoon.

Crisis

The corona crisis had left its mark. Many boats were still winterized and the boat yard was almost completely full of wintering boats that are unlikely to get into the water this year.

The activity of charterboats was low.

"40% compared to last year" explained one of the managers before resignedly shrugging and adding "but what can you do?"

Oh No. Not again

We started to put things in order and to clean up below deck . The water in the boat had left its clear traces in the form of black spots of mold on all surfaces. With Ajax, Rodalon and plenty of muscle power, they slowly let themselves be washed away. In some weird way it felt good to know that we had probably saved Heron from being totally wrecked by coming back this year. 

When we started to tidy up midships, we discovered that the inverter was gone. It was screwed out of the wall. Only the clipped wires hung back as proof that it had left us with the thieves. Now we were up to 43 stolen effects.

We called an electrician. An hour later he boarded. Installed a new one and assured us that the electrical installations had not been damaged by the water in the boat.

New energy

Late in the afternoon, Lars, whom we once shared a boat with, enlisted. He brought a handheld VHF, which we had asked him to buy the day before he left. We had a late dinner at restaurant Zorbas. After dinner we started making claim reports and only came to bed late.

The next morning, Lars started cleaning mold stains and dirt from the otherwise fine white cladding in the fore cabin. Meanwhile, we cleaned and washed in the galley and midships.

After lunch we left Gouvia Marina. Half an hour of sailing later, we reached Mandraki, located near the city of Corfu at the foot of one of the two fine ancient Venetian fortresses. In Corfu town are a number of marine chandlers, where we could continue the equipment of Heron. We continued with the cleaning work and were finally finished early in the evening.

You must be kidding

"Why don’t we inflate the dinghy?" Lars asked as we sat on the dock, exhaling after the day's work.

“It is very heavy. I can't take it now"

"Arh, but then I will take it myself" Lars replied. Went on board and loosened the rope, it was tied with.

"It's not heavy," he said as he lifted it and, like another superman, carried it to the stern, where he triumphantly asked, "Are you ready to take it?"

Lars was right. The big blue bag was not heavy at all. When it was ashore we opened it and found out why.

The large bag contained no other than blankets and pillows. The Dinghy? Yes it was gone

The mystery solved?

The crew of our Italian neighbor's boat had gapingly followed the scene. When they were told where Heron had spent the winter, they became furious.

“Our friend was in the same place with his boat. Here he met a charming Australian who offered to do some work on the boat while he was at home in Italy. Our friend gave him € 2.500 in advance. When he returns, the charming Australian is gone. The same goes for a laptop, a VHF, two instruments and some sailing clothes. And of course none of the work has been done, ”they said upset.

“And” they continued the charming Australian came driving to town in an autocamper. The yard allowed him to park it on the yard and he ends up swapping it for a boat in which he sails away. ”

… Aha.

We had noticed an autocamper on the yard next to Heron.

So perhaps it was rather a charming Australian than some poor gypsies who had stolen from us.

Could it be that the charming Australian had rigged his boat with equipment from Heron while living in his autocamper, which had been parked next to Heron?

Finally going

The next day we went into one of the many marine chandlers. Bought a dinghy and more equipment that the proprietor's son brought down on Heron.

The next morning we left Mandraki heading for the small island of Paxos a little south of Corfu. After a couple of hours of sailing, we sailed into the bay of Lakka with the almost impossibly turquoise water as Rod and Lucinda Heikell describe it in their popular pilot book.

We swam in the clear turquoise water, enjoyed the silence and the surroundings with the picturesque little town and the steep overgrown slopes, on which in several places lay houses with a formidable view of the Ionian Sea and the turquoise colored bay.

The next day we sailed on to the city of Gaios, named after Gaius of Ephesus. He was one of Jesus' 72 disciples and brought Christianity to Paxos. (And yes. It is mentioned somewhere in the New Testament that there were 72 disciples).

Gaios is a popular destination for tourists. They get there by boat from Corfu and several places on the mainland. Shops, cafes and restaurants are located right next to the marina, which is shaped like a canal between the town and the small uninhabited island of Nikolaos.

The next day we left Gaios in the morning and headed for the small bay of Zavia Beach on the mainland 10 nautical miles northeast of Gaios.

Here was one of the other three Danish boats. The boat had suffered a storm damage while on the yard and the owner had asked us to attend a meeting with the yard about this.

We anchored next to the Danish boat, rowed to the beach and swam to visit each other and enjoyed the silence and the magnificent starry sky when it got dark.

Will it never stop?

The next day we attended the meeting with the yard. When the crew of the Danish boat had clarified the problems with the storm damage, we retold the rumor about the charming Australian.

"Impossible," replied the yard manager indignantly. The man you are talking about is a surgeon and is on his way to Spain in a boat I have sold to him. And he is not Australian but Spanish. "

"Do you mind if we have a look to see if any our stuff is in the autocamper?"

“You are welcome. Take the camper if you want. I'm dead tired of this, ”he replied angrily.

Together with his daughter we went to the autocamper, opened the door and went inside.

The camper was neat and tidy inside. There was a thermometer in the window. It was not ours. Then we opened a drawer in the small kitchen and exclaimed in a mixture of surprise and rage

“These two sets of cutlery are ours. We got them as a wedding gift ”

“How can you be sure it's yours?” asked the daughter, shaking.

"Don't you think it's strange that your Spanish surgeon leaves behind two sets of Danish cutlery?" we asked angrily and handed her a fork with the engraving 'Georg Jensen.Prisme'

"Do you want to come over to the boat and compare with the ones we have left?"

But the daughter was convinced and we continued "This is serious. We have to report to the police again"

Half an hour later, a car parked next to the square. A man stepped out, walked over to us and introduced himself as the police. He had a gun in his belt. He was not from the port police and did not speak as English as well as his colleague from the port police whom we had met the week before. After several attempts, we finally managed to explain to him that there had been a break-in on our boat and that we had found some of our stolen effects in the autocamper.

He asked us to get into the car and drove with lightning speed to the yard's small office.

The gate was locked and no one answered as he shouted towards the yard.

He got into the car again and drove on. Then he stopped next to a truck and apparently asked the driver if he knew where the manager of the yard was.

We roared further down the street and had not driven far before he stepped on the brakes in front of a cafe where the yard manager sat with his daughter.

The policeman asked us to stay in the car while he got out and walked over to them. Interrogated them for 5-10 minutes and then came back to us in the car.

"You have to come to the station in Igoumenitsa" he explained and stepped so hard on the speeder that we almost flew off the small mountain road, which we had gradually come to know well.

The police had their office in a more humble environment than their colleagues from the port police. We had not sat in the waiting room for long before another policeman came to us.

When we explained that we had already reported the break-in to the port police, he concluded that we could do no more and that he hoped we had good insurance.

We were driven back to Heron by the nice policeman who, together with a colleague, set about investigating the autocamper.

The next morning we sailed back to Gouvia Marina on Corfu, docked in “our” berth, said goodbye to Lars and breathed a sigh of relief after a rather hectic and unexpected start to the 2020 cruise.