PR 41 Goodbye Sigacik, hello Greece

Passage Report No. 41

Goodbye Sigacik

A cruiser is by nature, a rolling wave. Winter passes, spring beckons. It is time to move on. Sahula has wintered in Sigacik for 6 months. Time to meld with the locals, make friends, explore the town, the region and learn some Turkish. It is an overseas "home." All ensure that is harder to leave.

Sahula's 12 month Transit Log requires renewal. Skipper buses to Cesme to confront the bureaucracy. The Cesme Marina office sells the log (97TL), the Harbour Master stamps. The Government health officers certifies i.e. assumes good health, customs and immigration stamp, the Harbour Master confirms. It is done (two hours). No agent needed. Skipper has a valid Turkish Log (12 months) and visa (three months).

It is after midnight emergency. Skipper phones Cuneyd (Marina manager), Richard (Silent Wish) has internal bleeding. Another example of Turkish hospitality (literally). The Marina provides a car to drive the patient to Seferihisar, then Izmir hospitals.

A photo is required by Marina management, of Skipper and Sahula, their first yacht. Farewell to the staff and workers. Skipper and daughters will visit in September.

Australian guests (Robyn and Jack) are aboard. Water in, gas refilled, fuel in, new propeller shaft working, Seferihisar bizarre -fruit, vegetables, cheese, "Tansar" supermarket - muesli, tins, dolmas (bus) to Sigacik, University Café - bread, baklava, eggs and farewells, Zod (dinghy) on deck, "plank" up. Sahula reaches for the open sea. A NW'ly fills the yankee, main and staysail on a "downhill" course to Samos Island in the Greek, Dodecanese group. A course to sea to avoid the calms in Kusadasi bay before the Samos Strait. Robyn, affected, rests below.

Posidonion Bay, church bells ringing, white village, crystal water - Sahula's first Greek anchorage. Allah's muezzerin is unheard across the strait. A morning pre-departure swim.

Yachts passing between Turkey and Greece do not book out of Turkey when going to Greece. They are therefore illegal on leaving Turkey. They book into and out of Greece (transit log and visa stamp) and return, as if never left, to Turkey. Skipper did this in Pythagoreon town on Samos. Greek officials (Port Police, customs, Immigration) signed and stamped the Greek transit log (6months) and passport (55 Euros).

Sahula anchored outside the ancient harbour. The whitewashed town gathered around the harbour and the hillside beyond. A medieval fort dominates the harbour. Tourists flooded the streets. The town is the ancient city of Samos. Polykrates (the tryant) created the "greatest engineering feats in the Greek world:" the harbour walls, Temple of Hera (destroyed), the through mountain tunnel bringing city water (exists).

Skipper's dawn walk explores the white lane maze and hills above. Colourful religious art - ceiling, framed, gold and silver icons evidence historic devotion in the city basilica..

Cruising is wind and whim. Sahula was bound to Arki Island but headwinds and short sea, turned her to Aganthosia Island. Sundowner's drinks are amongst dry, desolate hills, a remote anchorage, goat herd bells and crystal clear water.

Two yachts anchor close by. The "herd" factor - anchoring nearby when ample space exists - is human nature. It seems, illogically, more so in cruisers from crowded Europe.

The hill top Monastery of St John, Patmos dominates Skala harbour. Built as defence against roving pirates, villagers fled to behind its high walls. Workers whitewashed homes cluster around it.

Sahula is anchored (cost free) in the well protected, harbour away from the "cheek and jowl, stern to, busy harbourside. A nearby fuel station refills fuel containers.

Skipper walked uphill to the Monastery visiting the cave where St John received God's Revelations. A silver lined, roof fissure marks where God appeared. Some meditate transfixed by the closeness to truth or myth. Skipper lights a candle. Another monastery (Apocalypse) is built over the cave.

The St Johns Monastery museum and church, house ornate, paintings, books and Greek Orthodox religious icons. Vibrant colour, gold and silver, create religious mystery.

Both Monasteries house novices preparing for Christian Orthodox priesthood.

Ancient windmills (four) are being rebuilt on the Monastery ridge. Great sails drive the mechanism which traditionally crushed wheat into flour. Freedom wind upon windmill sails below the cloistered monasteries towering ramparts. Nature and religion lost.

Its electric - the freshwater pump stopped. Jack takes it apart. The Aries tiller pilot electrical plug is corroded - hand steering till Bodrum.

Few if any, ancient ruins adorn these islands. Villages where minor compared to those mainland land bound unless a centre for trade.

Sahula rests off Archelagos. A deserted island shared on with goats. Evening shouting, herdsmen racing, goat's bells urgently chiming - trapped - deported in boats to an uncertain fate.

Guests introduce the game, "Rummy" to Sahula.

Skipper hears nothing from Musketelle, a NZ yacht, hoping to rendezvous with Sahula.

Early morning sparkle, dolphin like, without a stitch, Skipper snorkels the shore.

Sahula anchors off, in Lakkia Harbour, Leros. An bland town of wide streets and formless buildings. Leros was hard fought for in WWII. Buildings were devastated and rebuilt without concern for their cultural identity.

Skipper and Robyn bus to Pendeli's Crusader Castle set high above the villages white, narrow streets. The Greek ness (mixed with Italianate houses) seems to have escaped the war time devastation. The castle houses an ornate Greek Orthodox Church and superb church museum.

A Cruising Association email recounts that Greek Port Police whether a yacht has booked out of Turkey. The emails run hot with concern. Skipper decides to be "legal" in Leros. First visit is to the elusive Port Police officer - in dark blue and gun belt: "Where are you?" - "In the harbour" - "Where is that?" Language intervenes: "Could you come back tomorrow?"

Sahula unrecorded, church bells tolling (Sunday), departs for Kalimnos. The bay is not in the Guide. Sahula is alone, anchored beneath towering rocky peaks. High on the slope the collapsed hillside evidences a vast subterranean cave.

"It is not a dolphin, it's a seal!" swimming behind a fishing boat.

The Greek Idyll ends in Kos marina. Sahula is jammed in a fender apart. "This is nothing, we do it with much larger yachts." One marina in two weeks is too many. Cost: 25 Euro ($54 Austn) - a night.

Washed, watered and bathed, crew visit the cities, many, richly endowed, ancient sites. A tourist "train" takes visitors to the Roman health villa. A reconstructed Roman house provides an insight to a high standing Roman's domestic life - marble and tiled art floors, painted art on walls, pools, courtyard and large rooms.

Sundowners with Yurgan and Arica (German cruisers - "Cape Reinga"). They recount cruising on the French Canals and invite Skipper to the home on the Rhine river.

EU fuel is cheaper than Turkey. 58 Euro for 40 litres.

Port Police, Customs and Immigration and hand in the Transit Log. Cost: 88 cents.

Fair winds to Bodrum, Turkey, change to rain squalls. Turk Red Flag replaces Greek Blue. Sahula anchors under Karaada Island.

Allah's muezzerin welcomes Sahula to Bodrum. Night clubs cut the evening air. Guests depart for Istanbul.

The Greek Dodecanese is a quieter place, Tourism is not overwhelming; locals are laid back, less money driven. It is a more European place, in people, religion and culture.

Greek literature refers to Turkey as "Asia Minor" - a place between Asia and Europe. The muzzeurin cuts the air five times a day. Noise accompanies life. Both are welcoming. Turkey is less expensive.

Sahula returns to Greece in September. She awaits other guests from Turkey and Australia.

A poem of Sahula's Dodecanese idyll:

THE AEGEAN ADVENTURERS by Robyn Adams

When you're sailing the Aegean 'mongst barren, windswept isles,

Many thoughts stray to ancient sailors whose ships plied these watery miles.

How easily they did navigate with cargoes of amphorae and painted tiles,

Whilst many a storm wrecked great galleons, blue skies more often smiled.

Perched high on nearly every hilltop stands a ruined lookout tower,

An indication that the peoples here once held such mighty power,

Now modern communications towers, like fingers pointing to damnation

Transmit messages around the world from this now bankrupt nation.

The red-hulled yacht Sahula made good speed across the water,

Her sails unfurled, her skipper pleased as he thought about his daughter.

A lawyer back in Aussie, she was due to join him soon,

And together they'd go sailing until full waxing of the moon.

The crew now on board Sahula, a couple from back home,

Had joined the yacht in Turkey, for they also liked to roam.

They sailed across to Samos, an island not far to the west,

Entering into Grecian waters, they were soon put to the test.

A strong north wind assailed Sahula as she bravely carried on,

Her sides awash with teaming foam, her stays stretched way beyond,

But all passed the test and got to rest in the lovely port of Pithagoria,

Where crews sat around the little town and ate at a trattoria.

High above this little bayside town an impressive ruin stands,

Here Hera, wife of Olympian Zeus, was said to have been born.

A temple dedicated to her name was built by many hands,

The sacred way is now defunct, headless marble statues lie forlorn.

The Gods of old Olympus still seem to be around,

Those mighty heroes whose names provoke stories most profound.

Artemis, the huntress, twin of Apollo God of Light,

Was foremost worshipped long ago to help prevent great plight.

Islands with inspiring names, like Patmos, Leros, Kos slip past,

Painted houses hug the hills, sparse vegetation sprouts at last,

Sea birds call, bright sun shines down on azure seas,

Dotted on hills, a glorious sight, stand ancient monastries.

Fish soon nibble at the compost that we toss overboard,

Coloured red, blue, yellow, brown, they make a puzzling hoard,

For as soon as fruit or vege peels hit the waters blue,

They come racing out of nowhere, vying for pieces to chew.

Several other yachts sail past each day, their courses set like ours,

To reach an idyllic anchorage, before the cocktail hour.

Flags from many nations grace the stern's halyard,

We greet each other often without a thought to guard.

Bodrum, on the Turkish coast, is the final destination,

For the crew will leave Sahula there, with the skipper's imagination,

For waters blue and adventure true, the Aegean has it all,

So if you're finding life a little dull, then listen to its call.

Robyn Adams - Crew , July 2010.

Next Report: Guests cruises

Best

David

Sv Sahula

PR 43 Aladaglar Trek

Passage Report 43

Sahula

Aladaglar Trek

"She goes astern sweetly" says Klaus (he and Ingrid have traveled their motor launch down the Danube), as Sahula rests contentedly, if insignificantly, between the 40m Gulets, at her Karav Sogut wharf.

It is midsummer hot, very hot. Skipper seeks to adventure in high, cool, mountains. The Taurus Aladaglar (mountains) rise to 3756 m are the central range of the Taurus Mountains. They form the western most branch of the Himalayan mountain belt.

Skipper expectantly packs warm clothes, sleeping bag, solo tent and packaged food. The new ultra-light tent, pack, boots and stove underscore that the only mule is Skipper.

The dry Anatolian plateau passes in four buses (Marmaris, Aksaray, Nigde, Cukurbag , Camardi), 15 hours overnight before the Aladaglar rise above Cukurbag village. Zamir, a young naval (submariner - Turkey has 12) sailor guides (speaks English) Skipper between buses. His home village is Camardi next village to Cukurbag. A young (students) Istanbul couple intending four days rock-climbing lumber off with heavy gear laden backs. A roadside fruit stall owner calls OzSafak Pension (35TL B&B, 50 TL DB&B). Camping places are available. Skipper opts for a hot bath and warm bed. Proprietor, Bashir welcomes Skipper. Skippers shares it with two young Dutch birdwatchers here to sight the rare "Caspian Snowcock."

Bashir's mother provides a balcony Turkish meal. A sunset setting for the spectacular, rugged, horizon stretched, range. The vista of stark, precipitous, peaks gleam limestone white, brown, change in a lumiere - shadow, fading blue, yellow, gold, crimson, purple, grey and moonlight mystery. It is nature at its colourful "movie" best. It renders the debate whether "Ali" means "red" or "high" nonsensical. The Aladaglar are indeed the "crimson" mountains..

Early sunrise. Bashir drives Skipper to Demirkazik village and the start of the trek up the Cumbar Vadisi (valley). "It is not difficult, a little steep in the gorges" - Skipper strides out past a massif sheep dog growling a warning to avoid her two plump pups and flock of sheep.

"Go right where the path divides" advises Bashir. Skipper, pack on back, enters the gorge. It is narrow but narrower on the right. It is a cleft, edged by high vertical, cliffs and seemingly impossible rock falls. Each impassable time, a thin, often loose stone, gravelly, path leads up. Skipper is encouraged by the horses, donkeys and tour groups that pass this way. It is slow, hot and taxing.

Halfway, water like wine, flows from a shepherd's spring. The shepherd shares a spring cooled melon. His sheep cowering before the heat. White, massif, sheep dogs growl protection. Shepherds work their herds (sheep and goats) over all the Aladaglar yaylas (mountain grasslands). In late summer (August) it is a denuded, desert environment, spared only by clumps of wildflowers.

"The pass is three hours" said Bashir - four hours and Skipper crests a pass to reveal a cirque of peaks dominated by Demirkazik (3756m). It is a grand, impressive, cathedral like, place. Pain is displaced by awe. Ice patches remind of winter. Giant, limestone, organ pipes split by rearing cracks provide a "1000" highways. Cliffs rear some 600 m to craggy summits. It is a climber's paradise. And it is cool by day, cold at night.

This is the "cradle of Turkish mountaineering" ("The Ala Dag - Climbs and Treks in Turkeys Crimson Mountains," O.B. Tuzel - Cicerone Guide 1993). Climbing -winter or summer, is a recent sport in Turkey. The earliest climbs were by Europeans from the 1800 - 1960's when Turks sought survival not leisure. Today, young Turks from university rock climbing clubs assault the peaks. They are a dedicated, small but growing number mainly from Istanbul and Ankara.

The Government, in recognition of the value of outdoor activities erected, in 1987, a Mountain and Ski House outside Demirkazik village. It offers budget accommodation. It is a short walk to the gorge entrance to the Cimbar vadisi. However, the lodge's location does not allow the spectacular range, sunset, lumiere that is the advantage of the OzSafak Pension balcony. The sunset lumiere should not be missed.

Dipsiz Gol (lake) marks the end of the trek. In late summer, it is not potable. Skipper camps near the shepherd's camp and spring just back from the lake. Mohammed (11years) is in charge. His father has gone to the village. Mohammed adopts visitors and rides a long suffering, small, mountain horse to shepherd the flock on the high yaylas. A true mountain "man." Heir to a priceless natural inheritance.

Turk climbers, Mustafa and Aykut, arrive from Istanbul.

Suspected fruit poisoning the first night, lays Skipper low but the next day recovers. A day is spent with the climbers reconnoitering potential rock climbs.

Sunset and sunrise crests the peaks. It is time to leave. Skippers last sights the climbers mid-way up a seemingly impossible, organ pipe, climb. Five climbers from Ankara, trek by.

Pension luxury and the Yedi Goller (Seven Lakes) trek and ascent of Mt Elmer (3723m), beckon.

"Take a jeep," says Bashir. It is a long hot walk to Sokulupinar, base camp for tour groups into Yedi Goller. The jeep (70TL) drives to the start. "Three hours to the pass, six to Yedi Goller." Skipper feels the benefit of a lightened pack (no stove, no wet weather gear, less food).

It is a long, hot trek, up the Yalak Vadisi. It begins as a deep gorge, evolves into narrow canyons, stony slopes, switchback trails and over false passes. A shepherd guides Skipper into an useen cutting. It avoids a longer, alternative, gorge. His camp offers a spring. The pass proves a trek too far. Skipper camps below it within reach of a morning ascent of Mt Elmer. Pre-used campsites, although stony, with a groundsheet and sleeping mat ensure a good sleep. Sunset's ruby tones reach out over the distant Anatolian plateau.

Sunrise, Skipper ascends Mt Elmer. A non-technical climb over a rock and shale slope. It is begun from the pass. The reward is the summit view. It extends to affinity across the Aladaglar Range and the mountains and plains beyond. A spring on the pass provides water.

Downhill to Yedi Goller (Seven Lakes) and a camp alongside Buyuk Gol (lake). Direktas Peak (3510m) rises its cliffs above, surrounded by high peaks in a valley some 3 km diameter. Kizilkaya (3725m) towers over the valley. Climbs abound but this area is tour group country. A large tent camp attests to its popularity.

In the eons of time, the valley was filled by glaciers. These have rounded the enclosed peaks and cut steeply those that surround them. It is a dry, bare, primeval, ancient and silent place. An exit trail down the Hacar Vadesi, leads to eastern forests and Ulupinar village.

"...and what do you do?" asks Skipper of Hussein. "I am the barman." It is Ramadan - Islam's month of abstinence. Skipper asks again. Enterprising Hussein (psychology student) manages the Yedi Goller Café and Bar (selling beer, juice, coffee, chai and popcorn). After sunset it's Yedi Goller's social center for the guides, clients and itinerants. Reputedly, the highest bar in Turkey.

A day scrambling up many low peaks. A final evening at the "Café." Early breakfast and Skipper begins the return trek. The cool, gold of sunrise embellishes the ascent to the pass. A high wind lows farewell over Mt Elmers summit. From the pass it is all downhill.

The loose rock and gravel provide a fast, cautious, descent. Horses laden with western tour groups racksacks pass slowly upwards. Skipper treks out to Sokulupinar camp. A 4WD driver offers a welcome lift to Cukurbag. Ozsafak pension provides a hot shower, fine meal and warm bed.

A long day by bus to Antalya. Another to Fethiye and Marmaris. In Fethiye, Skipper buys new boots and trousers. The new "Regatta" brand boots had failed the test. The sole ripped apart by the rocks. A complaint to the manufacturers website received no reply. The zip leg trousers had reach old age.

Sahula rocked contentedly. Skipper celebrated with a beer and good meal at the Carduk Restaurant at Sogut. He had survived, fit and well. Next trek may be the St Paul's walk in October.

Summary: The Aladaglar (mountains) are spectacular. For the young or not so young, a trek - day or overnight or more - is an unsung jewel. The load can be less by hiring a jeep to the start, a pack horse or donkey, and a full ensuite room at the Ozsafak Pension with DB&B. If not a walker; a dinner on the Ozsafak Pension balcony, fine wine and natures sunset luminiere is not to be missed.

Brings strong boots. Skipper's pair of Regatta XLD's simply disintegrated - sole fell apart.

Access: Bus or plane to Adana or Nigde. Bus to Camardi and Cukurbag drops off outside the Ozsafak Pension in Cukurbag. A direct bus to Nigde from outside the Pension connects with buses to the underground cities and Goreme in Cappadocia.

Next Report: Sogut to Bodrum

David

August, 2010

PR 42 Bodrum, Vistors

Passage Report No. 42

Sahula

Bodrum and Gokova

Sahula was quiet. Skipper reclaimed his space. Four days in Bodrum is enough. Clubs pulsate to the battered beat, tourists team the streets, traffic - the antithesis of the cruising life.

Dogan and son (Golkan) arrive for four days aboard. Different to their Izmir apartment. It is Dogan's first time alone with Golkan for 13 years. Golkan is eighteen, a student, caught between adolescence and adulthood. Dogan brings a pill tin- for stress, cholesterol etc.

Food loaded, Sahula slips to sea, before a freshening NW'ly. Sahula passes "Savorona," a 200 foot, raked funnels, schooner bow, private yacht built for Ataturk, President in the early 1900's. Power distorts, more power, more so.

Where to sleep? Dogan disavows the front cabin. "I like to see the stars." Star gazing requires he get little sleep in the cockpit. Golkan sleeps and sleeps etc- MP3 ear plug induced - in the saloon.

Golkan (a smoker) goes ashore to the resort. Management only allows Italian visitors. By day, spear fishing, sleeping and passing time.

Sahula needs to use a stern shore line. Golkan offers to swim the line ashore but is unsure how to attach it around a rock. Sahula swings to sea. A debacle.

The anchorage is deserted apart from a small fishing harbour, a kilometer distant. Water is clear. And silent.

Dogan and Golkan disembark to return to the apartment, to university, to a job and family.

Financial fate strikes. An ATM accepts but refuse to return Skippers Visa card. The second time this year. Bad enough in Australia but complex in Turkey. Skipper had another Card - lesson learned. A replacement card has to come from Australia, requiring a Turkish address. Finance availability is a crux issue.

"What are you doing in that place?" (friend Yilmaz), "Are you writing?" - there is no excuse - only to find a quiet yacht and gulet free anchorage in summer.

Crowded anchorage - anchor almost raised - Sahula drifting, cockpits are suddenly full of anxious heads - go below un-trip anchor circuit breaker- full ahead - yacht coming in dead ahead - hard a port - and free to sea. Sahula escapes into Gokova Korfesi (Gokova Gulf).

To Kerglicik Bogu or "Sea Garden" bay - after the large resort that generously provides unsecured wifi connection, at the anchorage (a km away). Clear water, calm and gulet free - a rare place so close to busy Bodrum.

A moderate NW'ly and Sahula enters Tuzli Koyu, a long fjord type inlet. Sahula is there alone except for a fishing boat. A serene anchorage surrounded by hills.

Creative juices flow - four art works: three coloured pencil (Red Cliffs, Dancing Trees, Roots) and a watercolour (Yagcilar village).

Skipper confidence in watercolour needs the ameliorative of practice. Jean Dobie's book "Making Colour Sing) is the reference. Di Boer offers to buy paints in China before arriving in August.

Sogut is a village with two wooden wharfs. The Gokova Sailing School operates here to introduce many young Turks to sailing. Skipper anchors stern to in calm conditions.

Sogut offers a winter retreat. A wharf offer a 1000 TL (500 Euro) for 6 months (marina: 1400- 1700 Euro). Skipper had noted the rival wharf was 1400 TL. Water and electricity extra. A friendly, uncrowded, place. Dolmas (bus) daily to Marmaris. Skipper is invited aboard, by a Turk couple, for chai and for drinks with liveaboard sailor, Teoman and friends.

Teoman is a cruising type. Refugee from relationships, 40's, friendly, intelligent, 27 years living aboard an own built steel boat to a plan that grew (by extending plan dimensions) to 53 feet for solo sailing - it is project with a never end - a male "workshop" - "million" still to do and obvious - no funds, no job and clearly content.

Skipper enjoyed the sail. Sahula was swept along. Until - 100 feet abeam is a yellow bouy, marking a breaking reef. Sahula passes between the bouy and the land. The gods are smiling.

Socuk Cati (Little Cati) is Ozkan's favourite place. Bocuk Cati (big) has gulets and many yachts. Sahula arrives after running before the NW Meltemi. It is calm, clear and picturesque. And there are no others other than a small fishing boat. In summer fisher families retreat to the many Gokova bays to enjoy a subsistence lifestyle.

"20 minutes - a walk to another bay" became three hours when Ozkan was welcomed by the retired fisherman and his wife to their small "farm" retreat. They grew greens, fruit, made honey and caught fish. Above, a km distant the four lane highway to Datca swept the busy, material, world, oblivious to the bliss below.

Skipper creates "Meltemi - Socuk Cati." A representative colourful abstract in pencil.

The Meltemi blows outside. Skipper stays three days. Walks, reading and art.

It is calm at midday. Sahula leaves to a rising wind and white topped waves. Skipper, to leeward, feels Sahula's exhiliation. Gunwales buried, 6-7 knots to windward. At 24 knots, Skipper reefs the main, part furls the yankee, flies the staysail. Sahula sweeps, spray flying, across the bay to Cokertme.

Passing charter yachts are agog at Sahula's baring her bottom blue. Skipper waves, they look in awe. Great sailing.

Sahula was ready to go. Fritz, owner of a 27 foot yacht, asks for help. German, he gesticulates that the googles and fins would be useful, his anchor is caught. Skipper offers them "No no no, I am an old man." Engine off, Skipper ponders the sailors lore and dives in. The anchor is wrapped around an old anchor in 6 m. It is the limit of Skipper's free diving. 6 dives later, by a rope around the anchor, Skipper lifting it (owner pushed the winch switch, wife looked on) and dropping the chain, it is unraveled. Fritz (in sixties) is grateful. Skipper ponder the differences, sixties ummmm mm.

Sea Garden anchorage in Kerlicik Boyu is nondescript. Off a rocky shore, a strong wifi connection to Sea Garden resort, encourages Sahula's third visit. A day of internet and post diving rest.

At 1600 Sahula is alone, at 1700, seven huge gulets moor close by. Where there were only a few Turks having a swim, there are now some 100 people, dinner parties, noise. Like a plague they descend bereft of "sea lore" or respect for a sailors space. Sahula has a stern line ashore, regardless the Gulet's 100 hp inflatable powers over it.

Sema and Serhat, Yagcilar village friends, can't join Sahula. Serhat's father is ill.

News of Skipper's alma mata, James Cook University and Australian politics fill time. Guest Neil is fresh from both. His yacht is in Townsville.

Internet is the lifeline for the cruising sailor. Cruising Association UK advises Turkish authorities, without notice, have changed the visa processes to mirror the EU rules ie 3 months in 6 months. It seems Skipper's visa renewel in September may be refused. The solution is a Resident's Permit - an expensive, bureaucratic application.

Reasons why range from payback for EU treatment of Turks to landlubber Ankara bureaucrat.

The sailing cruisers horizon shrinks yet again. Emails run hot. The British homeowners in Turkey secure a political ear. The British PM and ambassador succeed in having the new rules rescinded - for now!

Sahula's galley opening porthole has shown its age. The hinge breaks requiring the removal of the window. Neil suggests a metal clip as a temporary but safe, repair. The window now is permanently closed.

Sahula sails to Knidos enroute to Greek, Simi Island. Knidos, Sahula is anchored in Bay. Crew are illegal so the harbour is not an option. Bus to Patmos town (2000) offers air-conditioning and a 1 EU fare. Simi village, theatre like, surrounds the busy, small harbour It is unusual as the houses shine in blue, ochre, red, green, yellow and white.

Snorkelling finds few fish. There seems little algae, shell life or fish food. The coastal Aegean seems a deserted sea. Sea birds are few.

The Bodrum Marina fuel station wharf is squeezed in between mooring ropes off "white ships." A Russian yacht drives in ahead. Chaos.The harbour swarms with Gulets. Sahula retreats; her third party insurance is safe. In the early morning quiet next day she succeeds (3.10 TL for diesel).

Sahula is quiet. Neil departs. Ben and Di arrive in a week. Maintenance time. Knowing is gold. The sunayi (light industrial area) yields a metal shop to make clips for the porthole. A mirror maker up-sizes the bathroom mirror.

Unisuper fund fax changes investment to "balanced" from "cash." Skipper pledges to leave fate to the managers. The website is off limits.

Equally, ABC (Australia) website is off limits. Australian politics possible return to Howardism is too raw. Stress level returns to "balanced."

Sahula retreats to Sea Change bay. Wifi aerial extender provides internet access. Watercolours, swimming and skyping friends and family.

Next Report: Ben and Di to Aladaglar departure: Sogut

David

August 2010

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