:: The Wendy House ::

As part of our briefing Afghan told us that we could not charge our small electronic devcies (phone, CAMERA, shaver, other) on jojo, the sailboat.  Evidently six guests with several small devices each could drain the boats motor-charged battery by device recharging.  Instead,  Afghan recommended that when buying use of a loo,  and drinking our free coffee,  we ask the waitstaff to charge our devices,  behind the bar.  

Real sailing experience #6: charge your small devices in Tavernas

Taverna staff were extremely obliging.

On our 2nd day sailing motoring the skipper taught us how to tie bowlines, 

B-OH-lines not b-OW-lines 

Though the knot is used to secure the boat’s bow, and stern, to a mooring. 

Thats a knot, not a knot.

Real sailing experience #5: know your knots

After mooring we grabbed our towels and wash bags and trooped off to the public showers.  We took turns using the showers for 3 Euros a turn.  It felt sooooooooo luxurious washing the crystalised Aegean salt from skin and hair in a room large enough to be able to wave your arms around,  a classic shower requirement.  No longer did I feel like a walking emery board or look like I suffered from all over body dandruff.

Real sailing experience #4: wearing white hides the cumulative sea-salt crystals

Over dinner we consulted with our cruise director (weather forcast) and persuaded Afghan to let us stay a second day and night on Ios.  No-one wanted a repeat rinse in the washing machine…..

We motored North towards the party Island of Ios, into the meltemi, into the wind, sails tightly packed-away, avoiding the katabatics.  Wind speeds were between 40 and 50 knots,  gale force 10, with what the skipper described as flying water from the tops of the whitecaps.  Red, Poodle and Spanial donned anti-seasickness wristbands.

Labrador in full sensible waterproofs stayed dry on deck to the left of the skipper.  To the left of Labrador Red lay back-to-the-bench shivering in full sun and swimwear.  Red was unable to sit-up lest the action give momentum to Red’s stomach contents.  I dragged myself along the boat, down the almost-as-dangerous-as-the-wendy-house-stairs and went below to bring-up Red’s fleece.  It was like navigating a fairground ride without a laughing audience.  

Poodle was buried beneath towels lying on the bench next to me, groaning.   All the colour had drained from Spaniel’s lips laying back to the bench opposite facing the sky.   Retriever was head over the side wretching while Spanial and I held a leg each lest the jerking of the boat lever Retriever ir-retriever-bly overboard. 

Skipper would smoke a cigarette every now and then… 

Lighting a cigarette is a tricky manouvre while helming a boat in a gale,  one has to admire the skippers dexterity and skill.  With each puff on the cigarette the pack pulled either hands, towels or jacket collars over their nose and mouth to filter any trajectile-style impact of the smoke on thier bouncing stomachs.

Skipper put the boat on auto-pilot and went below to brew a coffee.  As soon as he’d left the deck labrador elegently turned,  ejaculated a globule of stomach contents in one smooth action off the stern, then returned to face the wind looking like a true stalwart.  Good timing and action,  10 for technique I’d say.

I sat in my sea-spray-soaked, warm, neoprene jacket in the blazing sunshine with regular sea-showers.  Each sea-shower produced a seemingly choreographed choral groan from the lying-on-thier-back pack.   I waited unimpatiently for

real sailing experience #2: feeling sick

I never did get real sailing experience #2. 

The shere volume of flying water made reading my novel impossible,  the powerful swinging motion made  writing in my journal or sketching impossible,  the pack were clearly not in the mood for good conversation,  the views were rather predicatbly sea and sky, which can induce visual boredum.  Instead of developing seasickness I worked on fending off the boredum by considering the contents of this post and singing to myself… ‘What shall we do with the drunken sailor?…

After introductions Afghan told us that the weather forecast was too rough to complete a sail to the next Island, even Ferry’s were being cancelled due to the seasonally characteristic high winds known as the meltemi.  While clearly a good decision given the high waves,  this was a damping suprise to the whole pack. Afghan explained using essential information omitted from the promotional material, girls are in control:

‘mother nature is our cruise director’ 

 ‘the Aegean is a bitch’

[seadog laughter]  Ha HA HA HA!’

 real sailing experience #1:  be prepared not to sail. 

The pack spent the first afternoon on-land bonding at a beach-side disco-Taverna called JoJo’s; drinking beer, dancing, talking, reading books, sunbathing, sketching, meeting other tourists, swimming and making cell-phone calls/texts.