We’ve been writing this update for the past month, beginning it just after completing our school year on June 23rd. Even a month ago when we started writing this we were filled with nostalgia, and now even more so as we enter the final few weeks of our adventure.
The looming of the end makes this cruising season very different from last fall, when the year-long adventure stretched out luxuriously before us. Last season it felt like an eternity before we’d go home. This was very difficult for the kids, who couldn’t imagine being away from friends and activities at home for a whole year. But for us, the stretch of time gave us freedom and, as hokey as it sounds, provoked a different kind of consciousness that enabled us to better enjoy each moment. This luxury of time was more profound in its impact than we had anticipated. Now the kids, seeing the end in sight, seem to have lost their resistance and are enjoying every day – whether filled with activities or passed lazing on the boat reading and playing cards – with a comfort and relaxation that they didn’t have last fall. We, on the other hand, bounce back and forth between enjoying the deliciousness of the moment in the most beautiful cruising grounds in the Med. (see below) and being distracted by the nearness and demands of the “normal” life that awaits us at home. We sometimes find ourselves so anxious to “make every moment count” that we often lose our ability to take what comes, stay in the moment, and enjoy our days to the fullest. We know there is an important lesson in this for us, and we find ourselves increasingly appreciative that we had a full year to detach, and live this wonderful experience..
One other striking difference between this cruising season and our last (besides the fact that we now have at least some sense of what we’re doing) is the feeling of being part of the community of live-aboard cruisers. It started this winter when we met 15 other live-aboard boats who were with us in Gaeta, and is helped by the fact that we now have a sense of how the community works. We have been semi-regulars on the 8:30 a.m. single sideband cruisers “net” where we get weather and routing tips and hear the familiar voices of our neighbors from Gaeta. More significantly, we now know how to spot fellow cruisers (not to be confused with “yachters” – professionally crewed boats, and “charterers” – just out for a week or two) and we are now easily identified as kin by others. So nearly every afternoon as we pulled into ports throughout our tour this season, we have found ourselves in a small community making quick friends with cruisers from all over the world.
Sarah leads the pack in friend-making, often jumping ship before we are completely docked if she spots a child over 6 or, even better, an animal, on a neighboring boat. For Sarah, language is no barrier. Others have reached out to us as well. In Levkas (Greece), as Steve and I were walking down a street, someone pointed to the NOWORNOT logo on Steve’s shirt and said, “are you from the ‘Nowornot’ boat? As another kid boat, they had heard about us and were about to send us an e.mail in the hopes of crossing paths. In Corinth, minutes after pulling in, all the kids were sought out to play soccer by the boys of a French family going the opposite direction. We all had dinner together and then we joined the couple on their boat for an evening cocktail. In Vibo Valentia (Italy), Athens, and Kithnos, same sort of thing. But nowhere was instant community as obvious as it was in Serifos, Greece, where we pulled into the last spot on the peer after a 55 mile crossing in 30+ knot winds, just in time for a dock party among cruisers who had been stranded on this small island for a week, waiting out the early Meltemi (strong regional winds) blow. Still crusty from the salt spray of our sail, we re-hydrated at the party and met lots of cruisers, including the family on the power-yacht Saphire, who we joined for a few days in Paros as well. Had we been with them for another few days, we’d have taken bets that Danny and their very cute 13 year old would have surely had a little romance. Since they had to take off to meet visitors in Athens, however, the obvious and incredibly cute flirtation couldn’t take its course.
It’s not only companionship we’ve gained this season. Boat repairs and cruising go hand in hand, and our various run-ins have come in very handy. In Turkey, we hung out next to two boats of Australians and couple from Oregon. When the woman from Oregon, on board for a cup of coffee, heard Steve expressing his inability to diagnose a generator problem, she volunteered her husband, a former airplane mechanic, to help out. Not only did her husband find the immediate problem, but also a looming one that required welding a new part, which he could do on the equipment he carries on board. A week or so later, in Marmaris, Turkey, we were greeted warmly by a fellow cruiser who had spent several months in that marina over the winter. He walked miles with us to find what he knew to be the right people for the repairs we needed and helped convince them to do our project that same day. This sense of community has really made this season different from the last and has been an incredibly rewarding part of our experience. And now that we’ve figured it out, we often find ourselves wondering, “why stop now?”
All this is to say that this cruising season has been wonderful. We began it in mid-April, three months and about 1500 miles ago, when we set sail from Gaeta, which is also when we last updated our site. With so much ground to cover, we’ll start with our time in Turkey, which feels most salient, then jump back to catch up on our trip from Gaeta through Greece.
Mid-June – Now
For the past four weeks in Turkey, we have been moving at a true cruising pace. In many ways it felt like summer vacation truly began on June 23 – on a full day sail we celebrated the end of school, Danny’s birthday, and our entry into Turkey. Our school year stretched out longer than we had hoped due to our flexible approach to formal schooling – ie. lots of time off for “fieldtrips” to interesting places throughout Europe. While we don’t regret this approach at all, it definitely made for a more pressured first half of our cruising as we raced to finish our curriculum. Each child capped their year off with an age appropriate essay: Danny reviewed Maya Angelou’s I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Adam completed a report on ancient Greece, and Sarah wrote a passionate paragraph titled “Why I Want a Dog.” Steve and I – equally excited to complete schooling – officially graduated each child to the next grade just as we entered Turkish waters. Since Adam finished first, while we were still a good 20 miles off both the Greek and Turkish coasts (we crossed from Rhodes, Greece), Deb allowed him to toss overboard his grammar workbook. That was a gleeful moment for both of them.
We entered Turkey in Kas (one of several ports of entry), where we were stunned by one impact of the recent tension between our country and theirs – a rise in visa prices from $35/person (about what most countries pay) all the way to $100/person. We understand the Turks pay the same to get visas in the U.S., so we don’t know who started the escalation. After one day to get checked in, and withdraw large stacks of Turkish Lira from the cash machine (the largest bill they have is a 20,000,000 TL note – about $14 U.S. – our kids loved changing $20 of spending money into almost 30 million TL, comprised of a thick stack of about sixty 500,000 TL notes), we sailed south and east to Kekova, an island about 1km off mainland Turkey, between Rhodes and Cyprus. This spot was as far south and east as we planned to travel.
Kekova is known for the Lycean ruins, many of which are underwater, making for some interesting, though pretty fishless, snorkeling. Despite this, the kids have taken to spear-fishing whenever we see any sign of fish life. If they ever manage to spear something big enough to cook, we suspect they’d all panic. But it entertains them for hours and since Steve has to join them (being the only one who can re-load the gun), it leaves Deb alone on the boat to enjoy some wonderful quiet time.
With five weeks to travel only about 150 miles along the Turkish coast, for the first time all trip we gave ourselves the luxury of just hanging out for days at places we like. As Adam commented, “this is what cruising is all about.” The other day, in between spear fishing jaunts, the kids spent a few hours cleaning the bottom of our dinghy. Yes it was a task, but mostly they spent time pushing each other off the soapy bottom and battling for the right to scrub from the windsurfer. As we listened to the three of them laughing and splashing, we realized that this may be our last month with Danny as child. Free from the distractions of his peers (wonderful peers, for sure), here he can do goofy, childish things with his siblings that we have little doubt he will outgrow the moment we hit U.S. soil. We both teared up as we listened to the now cracking voice of Danny the kid, realizing how fleeting and precious these moments are with him, and of course with the others. We sometimes have felt selfish keeping them to ourselves this year. But as we creep into the last few weeks of our journey, we increasingly hear the kids talk nostalgically about the year. Adam even admitted that he’d love to keep going if he could freeze time at home. The other two agreed.
From Kekova we headed back passed Kas toward Fethiye, and a very popular destination just before that called Olu Deniz. In many ways this part of Turkey has been where we, and particularly Deb, have been headed for the past year. In Deb’s singular voice for a moment: It’s sort of my Ithaca. I came to this coast of Turkey 20+ years ago with my brother before it was discovered by the travel industry. I have only a vague memory of how Aaron and I learned of a place called Olu Deniz, the paradise 50 km from Kekova. I think a man who was selling my mother a rug in Istanbul told us to find our way to this beach. So we did, and it was truly paradise. It was there that I saw a family on a small lone yacht hanging on its anchor, and it was there that I decided this was something I was going to do someday with my own family. Back then, Olu Deniz had a few rustic tourist huts and beach bar. Now, according to guidebooks, it’s one of Turkey’s most popular tourist destinations. The pristine beach – once the nesting ground for tortoises (20+ years ago I watched one lay its eggs at night), is now blanketed with beach umbrellas. So I was warned by fellow cruisers that I shouldn’t go back. But of course we did.
Olu Deniz, now designated a national park, is still spectacularly beautiful. The anchorage against a cliff was dramatic, and the row/swim into the protected lagoon was beautiful and enjoyable. But we did find it disappointing, not only because of the umbrellas lining the beach and crowds splashing in the water. As we were backing into the anchorage (in Turkey it is common practice to anchor and tie a long line from your stern to shore), we were greeted by two friendly Turkish men, the crew for an anchored day-tripper tourist boat, who asked if we wanted help. We said no, but then we snagged a large, old anchor off the bottom, and while in the process of freeing it, dinghyed over to them and asked if they would like it. Understanding was definitely questionable in both directions, but they came over. They dropped the old anchor to the bottom just as we would have done, then proceeded to help us tie up; we didn’t really need the help, but thought we’d just accept what we thought was their local hospitality and knowledge. But it wasn’t hospitality; they asked for payment for their services. It was the first of countless visits we’ve now had from local entrepreneurs throughout our time in Turkey.
On the one hand, we are sympathetic; they are trying desperately to earn a living in a very poor country, made worse by sagging tourism this year, the first drop since Turkey became a mainstream destination. Some of these visits we welcome – the man and woman in the “crepe canoe”, the fresh bread boat, and the ice cream dingy for instance. But some of them have been extremely aggressive, often starting very friendly, but turning downright hostile when we don’t choose to buy their product or service. Deb’s recollection of Turkey from her last visit was of a truly warm and hospitable people. We’ve found ourselves frustrated as our guard has been raised, leading us to question the motive behind any friendly overture. We’ve had some great interactions with Turkish people since our early difficult ones, but unfortunately we are finding that it requires a deliberate and continuous effort to remain open to them in the face of what appears to be a growing aggressiveness in their behavior.
From Olu Deniz we motored 10 minutes around a point to Gemiler Adasi and tied our stern to the remains of Byzantine ruins on the side of the hill. We spent a few days here snorkeling, hanging out, and repairing our dinghy. It was more than 100 degrees, unusually hot even by Turkish standards, we spent most of the day in the water and some or all of us slept under the stars at night. Sarah and Adam have the gift of being able to sleep through sunrise, while the rest of us crawl into our beds for a few more hours after the first bright rays hit our faces. After two days of provisioning in Fethiye and enjoying the cute town and the marina’s pool and delightful staff, we moved 15 miles west to what is probably the best cruising ground we have yet found.
Skopea Limani is a 10 mile long bay running south from the small city of Gocek. It is home to dozens of spectacular anchorages just hops apart from each other. As long as one can nestle in among other cruisers (we hung out with some Australians and a couple from Portland, Oregon for two days) and avoid the chaos of the Turkish Gulets (large, crewed charter boats) and day boats doing the “12 island tour,” this is paradise. Two of our favorites were Tomb Bay, named for the many Lycian rock tombs built into the cliffs above (Sarah Deb and Steve made the hike up) and Wall Bay, closely joined by Ruin Bay. In these, like the other anchorages, we divide our time between completing boat maintenance and necessary repairs, and the pleasures of swimming, snorkeling, inner tubing behind our dingy, reading, lazing, and finally a bit of windsurfing. After schlepping the windsurfing rig for thousands of miles, we finally pulled it out only for Deb to drop a key part of the kids’ rig overboard in very deep water. We eventually rigged up something that works for them and the kids are all becoming competent. Adam now hopes for windy days.
About 2/3 through our wonderful stay in Skopea Limani, we picked Deb’s mom up in the town of Gocek. While there we did some chores, and had one of our best “locals” experience. We finally decided to rid ourselves of the remaining three bicycles we had brought with us from Gaeta (having already given the other two away). We weren’t using them much, the salt air (and water) was continuing to take its toll, and their storage rendered useless the best outside sleeping deck on the boat. We asked around for an appropriate recipient, and were told to see the man who ran the Quicksilver shop in town, and also ran an annual carnival for 3,000 area children. He and his wife were charming, and we had two occasions to share tea with them and talk about their experiences in Turkey and thoughts about the U.S. They were so appreciative of our gift of bicycles that they wouldn’t let us pay for the bathing suit we tried to purchase for Adam.
We could have stayed in Skopea Limani for another month, but relaxed pace notwithstanding we did need to move on. We hit a few lovely anchorages on the way to Marmaris, the next “major” city. Once again, while in a marina at a significant town, we used much of our time to get necessary things done. Deb and Danny did a major shop (her least favorite cruising task) and Steve found a well stocked Chandlery to get numerous previously elusive repair supplies. We also found a great workman to do a necessary repair job.
As we write this, we’ve moved passed Marmaris and are enjoying a further string of wonderful anchorages. We had high hopes for the cruising in this whole part of Turkey, and on the whole this area has lived up to our expectations. In two days we’ll have to find a town close enough to roads for Deb’s mom to get a cab back to the airport (not a trivial task as many of our favorite anchorages have been at the end of small peninsulas with absolutely no roads on them.) From there we’ll continue our wandering north and west for about a week until we hit Bodrum. Here we plan to check out of Turkey and back into Greece, and make our way back to Athens for the official (August 6th) end of our adventure. Needless to say, we can’t believe this year is almost over, and are beginning to feel the reality of our looming transition back to our normal life.
That brings us current, so we’ll step back and catch up the roughly two months between our departure from Gaeta and arrival in Turkey. We moved a bit faster than our ideal cruising pace for this period, reflecting a conscious choice in our quest throughout the year to balance our conflicting desires to see and experience as many wonderful places as possible and to maintain a reasonably slow pace. Moving reasonably quickly for a time was the “price” to pay for making it as far as Turkey. It’s funny. Before we left, a year felt like so much time, more than enough if we limited ourselves to the Med. But most cruisers thought we were crazy for doing this with anything less than 3-5 years. Having now been here, it’s clear we could easily spend another several years here and still have to make choices.
April- Mid-June
We dropped our lines in Gaeta on April 15th after a last minute dash to say good-bye to people in town, stock up on our favorite olive oil and table wine, and buy Danny an orthopedic shoe for his broken toe. As we anticipated, it was very difficult to leave. (See “Life in Gaeta” for more on our time there.) We were waved off by a full crew of new friends from the marina. Though we mostly were trying to make miles that first week, we paused for a morning in Acropoli, just south of Amalfi, to visit the Greek ruins in Pasteum and to prepare a Passover sedar. Thanks to some Navy friends in Gaeta, particularly Cara Nesser, we were equipped with matzah, gefilta fish, and matzah ball soup. We managed to find a bone (though not a lamb shank), some parsley, and then did a bit of improvisation, making a number of substitutions on the symbolic Passover plate - mayonnaise for horseradish, etc . We have no doubt that we were the only floating sedar for hundreds of miles. Next morning we visited the ancient Greek temples in Pasteum and talked about the difference between the Judeo-Christian God and the Pagan worship of the ancient world.
We continued down the boot of Italy, including a short road trip to Sicily where we visited the magnificent city of Siracusa and climbed over the sea of lava left by a devastating eruption of Mt. Etna last winter. This was volcano week. Immediately following our visit to Mt. Etna, we sailed during an overnight passage by the tiny island of Stromboli, about 40 miles north of Sicily. Referred to as “natures lighthouse” in ancient Greek writings, Stromboli erupts every 10-20 minutes with fiery lava streaming down the northwest side of the mountain into the sea. We timed the passage to arrive in the middle of the night when the lava stream is said to be most spectacular. At 1 a.m., we approached the “lighthouse,” woke the kids and all cuddled with blankets in the cockpit, stunned by the natural light show. I doubt any of us will ever forget this display of nature; if forced to pick one, this may stand as the single highlight of the year for us.
During the next few days we made our way to Crotone, on the ball of the Italian foot – a very different flavor of Italy. Here, we left our boat for a week while we traveled by train to Naples and then plane to London to meet Deb’s mother and brother and his family to celebrate Marcia’s 70th. It was a great week, but a culture shock in many ways. It was great to celebrate with Marcia and the kids loved seeing their cousins. They also enjoyed speaking English, eating bagels and Kentucky Fried Chicken, and above all being pampered in a very nice hotel - MUCH nicer than what they had become accustomed to traveling with just us. They didn’t even mind dressing up, to the extent that was possible with our wardrobes.
Though much of this part of the journey around Southern Italy was about traveling fast and getting to Crotone in time for our plane to London, we’ll also remember it fondly as the period of “the frame.” It was through the searching for materials for a very special picture frame that we viewed many of the small towns we visited during this period. The kids decided that they were going to make Marcia a frame for her birthday, and once Danny got to designing it (with a bit of help from Steve) it became far more than an ordinary rectangular frame. It had three pull out boards on which each of them mounted a birthday poem. This project involved measuring, sawing, sanding, gluing, screwing, staining etc. Some of this took place on docks, some on deck, and some in the streets of little towns. It required searching Siracusa for a glass maker, which we found to our delight in a charming back alley filled with craftspeople. After we posed for pictures with the three glasscutters, we left with what we thought was the perfect size glass for the frame’s façade. But they measured ½ cm off, so in Crotone, Steve and Danny (with his now mending broken toe -- did this playing soccer on the beach in Gaeta just before we left) hobbled through the industrial area of Crotone to find a facility that could cut a replacement piece of glass. Danny, who led the project, revealed his obsessive side as he reviewed his remaining to-do list each day with a set of tasks to be completed on the move or in port. But in the end, the hours and hours of work and enormous amount of love poured into this project resulted in a beautifully framed portrait of the kids with a set of poems that absolutely delighted their grandmother.
We returned from London to Crotone to find that summer had arrived. Wanting to take advantage of the weather, the next morning we filled our tank with diesel, did one last shop in Italy (little did we know how much we’d miss shopping in Italy), and set sail across the Ionian for Corfu, Greece, the northern most island in the Greek Ionian chain. Despite what we heard about the toughness of Greek officials, our check-in into Greece was seamless and the officials friendly, even while mired in their horrifically inefficient processes. We found this to be true throughout Greece.
We loved the Greek Ionians and spent the last three weeks in May traveling from island to island, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather and water. On Paxos (our favorite) and Meganisi we explored fabulous sea caves from the dinghy, on Levkas we hiked up to a waterfall, and on Ithaca we punctured (i.e., destroyed) the brand new dinghy of fellow cruisers Alfredo and Nicollete from Italy (some important lessons learned about boat handling and individual responsibilities) who, despite our difficult introduction, we befriended and now hope to see again some day under better circumstances.
We spent most of the time in the Ionians hanging out with the Canadian family on Dragonsinger, another kid boat (kids 13, 11, 7) who we had been in touch with during the winter. So after school each morning, the kids would get together to swim, inner-tube, and hang out. During the end of this period, we also met up with our Norwegian friends from Gaeta. Our kids loved seeing Andreas (15) and Annette (10) again, and they had a great time hanging out in mass, all eight of them. They even managed to find a basketball court (we have every kind of ball on board) on Cephalonia. During this period when all three boats were together, we had also been trying to work our way through our insurance and logistics of getting Alfredo and Nicollette their new dinghy and getting to know them a bit, so we felt a bit pulled in multiple directions. The kids had a very good time with other kids, but by the end of May, as we finished our jaunt in the Ionian, we were ready to have some time alone.
After a few more days in the Ionian, we left at 6 am on Steve’s birthday (May 29th) for a 75 mile day into the Gulf of Patras, and after that continued on to the Gulf of Corinth, all representing our approach to the Corinthian Canal. Highlights of those several days included an incredible dolphin show – two or three large schools swimming along side us, jumping next to our bow, and creating quite a bit of excitement on board. We also left our boat for a day to visit the ancient ruins at Delphi. We’ve been pretty selective about visiting historic sites this season, as we all feel pretty “ruined out” after all our visits last year and during the winter. But this one really couldn’t be overlooked. The canal itself was also pretty awesome (see picture). About 3.2 miles long and 25 meters wide, it is cut through limestone that often looms about 75 meters overhead. The passage is cool, but even more amazing is its history – started by the Roman Emperor, Nero in about 60 A.D., using 6,000 Jewish slaves as laborers, but abandoned and not completed until 1893 when a French company reopened the project. This makes it the longest construction project in history. And during the years of the Roman Empire, before it was built, they periodically moved ships across this stretch of land by rolling them over logs that were moved from the back to the front as each one became free.
After a brief stop in Athens (visit to the Acropolis and lots of provisioning and parts procurement, of course) it was into the grouping of Greek Aegean islands called the Cyclades. We also had two scheduled rendezvous in this area. The first was a brief meeting at an anchorage on Kithnos with Deb’s original sailing mentor (and then later mentor at MIT), Larry Bacow, his wife Adele, and their friends. They were finishing a week charter, so it was really fantastic to meet under these circumstances and catch up. In a few weeks their younger son will join Steve on the delivery at the end of our trip. Immediately following Larry’s departure, Steve’s parents and sister arrived for a week visit; they joined us just after the wind started blowing hard and left us just before it subsided; not the fair weather sailing we had hoped to deliver. To get out of the unseasonably heavy winds we backtracked to the island of Hydra (closer to Athens and more protected) where we enjoyed 3 or 4 days, until the wind calmed a bit so we could return to the Cyclades. Despite the heavy winds, we were able to treat them to two lengthy sails as well as some short hops. The first included some calm weather sailing that saw the “kids” (including Steve’s sister and 76 year old dad!) hanging off the side of the boat suspended from the mast in the bosun’s chair, under sail, dipping their feet in the water. The second was a bit more exciting, a 55 mile jaunt from Hydra back to Serifos with the wind gusting to 30+ knots. Steve’s family left us after a short hop to Paros.
We played a bit on Paros, including a great waterskiing jaunt where Danny and Adam, we think, officially made the switch from waterskiing to wakeboarding. Sarah is dying to try it too, but so far we haven’t found a boat with a board small enough. The other notable on Paros was our run-in with a group of German men on the charter boat next to us. At about 10p.m., as they appeared to be gearing up for a night of drinking and singing along with one of the crew’s guitar playing (and trust us, is was nothing you’d want to listen to) we asked them what time they thought they might call it quits. The musician was incredibly rude and told us they usually go all night, and that if we didn’t like it, we should not stay in a harbor (where boats are touching side to side), but should go someplace else. One of his friends stepped in, and suggested midnight, which we agreed was reasonable.
At 1am, with the party still roaring, we poked our heads up and pointed to our watch. The musician was again rude, but a friend said they’d call it quits. They did… for about half an hour, then started up again, albeit more quietly; we opted to just sleep through it as we could. The next morning we saw that the “splash” that Deb recalled hearing at about 1:30am was the red wine that our dear friend threw across on our boat. We “suggested” they should clean it up, and the peacemaker came on board with a scrub brush and bucket (we had to provide the soap). Not able to make any headway on the stripes of wine down the side, we suggested it would be necessary for them to get in their dinghy so they could do it with some pressure on the brush. Well, the musician teed off, started shouting curses and…. Those of you who know us well can imagine how Deb, in particular, reacts to such things. Any guesses? She stayed calm, picked up their bucket (still on our deck) and through the soapy water across at the shouting (large) German man. Needless to say, our kids got a kick out of that move, as well as his response of shaking his beer can (it was, after all, already 9:30 am) to spray it back at her. All ended as Deb went off to get the port police, and they dropped lines and took off before anybody could get there. So… we provided some good entertainment for all on the dock that morning, and now have an extra bucket to remind us of that comedy.
At this point we decided to high-tail it to Turkey with just a few brief stops along the way. The first was at Ios, from which we took a ferry to the island of Santorini. Santorini is a truly spectacular island that is the top of a volcanic mountain, mostly submerged, whose western half was blown off by what is thought to be the largest and most deadly volcanic eruption in history (often credited with wiping out so much of the Mycean population that it led to its downfall.) So when approaching the island, you are actually in what was originally the inside of the volcanic cone. A bit humbling to think that, while there hasn’t been any signs of an eruption for decades, it is actually still an active volcano.
Continuing the tradition of long sails on birthdays, we sailed on Deb’s day (June 21st) to Simi, where we enjoyed a beautiful quiet anchorage on the south side of the island. Then it was on to Rhodes, where we spent a day exploring and did our formal check-out from Greece. That let us continue the tradition again, with another lengthy sail on Danny’s birthday (the 23rd), our entry into Turkey described at the beginning of this update.
So there you have it – the adventures of Nowornot from mid April through mid July.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for you interest in our adventures.
