We had done our time in 22 fathom Bay with its wide bay and local colour at each end. The nights have been stifling and I hear the Ross and Jo have been swimming 4-5 times through the night to stay cool. maybe our time with them needs a nocturnal let out clause I'm thinking days and evenings then back to my electric fan full in my sleeping face. No bullshit I am seriously melting while Gend says it is "just nice"
The bays, days and nights are so quiet and in the mornings of late the first sounds as the day begins may be the tinkle of the goats bells as they pick their way around the shore before the full heat of the day kicks in. the other signature sounds are the large throaty roar of a Gulet going pedal to the metal to pull up within inches of a nervous neighbour as they slide in to anchor. they do this with consummate skill and get an awful lot of practice. the second noise i love is the slow turning start of the old local 2 stroke suck and blow diesels as they gather momentum and lurch off, their hot exhausts draped carelessly over the engine and menacingly close to the thighs of the skipper.
we were headed for Kalkan about 30 miles down the coast but in Fletch's favorite sailing mode, that being reef in the main staysail out and 1100 revs as a contribution we pull 9 knots. it was a deep blue tropical looking see with no real swell or pattern more a combination of standing wave and wind driven fetch that can make for an uncomfortable and confusing ride. The land remains under an atmospheric haze with no clarity, not dirty just muted in the searing heat of the day. to sit is to sweat and I have my favorite small hand towel as a constant companion.
Kalkan was ruined in a 1958 earthquake and the story goes that an Istanbul business man brought to the place up and has been restoring and selling off developments ever since. it looks good a preserved old town with shops, dozens of smart restaurants and the hills studded with apartments of all hues. The better to our eyes being the earth toned ones but all look amazing climbing the hills above the town.
Fletch handles the boat like a master in a very tight break watered harbour. The MO is to stall your way in and look for a little guy running around and waving. That designates your berth. We then stand by as he backs up with an anchor drop far out as we commence an astern run back to the wall. At the wall we hurriedly tie off the stern with the help of the local waving person and Fletch commences to strain up the anchor to get the boat sitting tight It is a perfect drop and tie and we are well pleased with ourselves in a very tight spot.Huge Gulets slide hard in beside with great skill and you are very pleased for the skill of their crews. In this breakwater harbour they are doing the same manoeuvre at right angles to us and opposite all at close quarters. the potential for crossing anchors is large.
Once anchored and dripping, wringing wet we strolled the few yards to the breakwater side and down the steps of a very Amalfi look alike concrete "beach" with loungers and bar service and swam in the gin clear water off the breakwater. It was much cooler here courtesy of the fresh spring they say debouches close by.
We decided to dine in town and we started the slow gauntlet of moving past the touting restarants, so hard they are all good and they need your trade. At the top of the hill Gend immediately felt sick, out of no where and had a discrete but violent vomit. It continued as I assisted and shielded the spectacle in these narrow streets of restaurants. I felt a tap on my shoulder and it was a local proffering three moist towels with a sad grin on his face and offering unreservedly his help. Nice touch.
The bays, days and nights are so quiet and in the mornings of late the first sounds as the day begins may be the tinkle of the goats bells as they pick their way around the shore before the full heat of the day kicks in. the other signature sounds are the large throaty roar of a Gulet going pedal to the metal to pull up within inches of a nervous neighbour as they slide in to anchor. they do this with consummate skill and get an awful lot of practice. the second noise i love is the slow turning start of the old local 2 stroke suck and blow diesels as they gather momentum and lurch off, their hot exhausts draped carelessly over the engine and menacingly close to the thighs of the skipper.
we were headed for Kalkan about 30 miles down the coast but in Fletch's favorite sailing mode, that being reef in the main staysail out and 1100 revs as a contribution we pull 9 knots. it was a deep blue tropical looking see with no real swell or pattern more a combination of standing wave and wind driven fetch that can make for an uncomfortable and confusing ride. The land remains under an atmospheric haze with no clarity, not dirty just muted in the searing heat of the day. to sit is to sweat and I have my favorite small hand towel as a constant companion.
Kalkan was ruined in a 1958 earthquake and the story goes that an Istanbul business man brought to the place up and has been restoring and selling off developments ever since. it looks good a preserved old town with shops, dozens of smart restaurants and the hills studded with apartments of all hues. The better to our eyes being the earth toned ones but all look amazing climbing the hills above the town.
Fletch handles the boat like a master in a very tight break watered harbour. The MO is to stall your way in and look for a little guy running around and waving. That designates your berth. We then stand by as he backs up with an anchor drop far out as we commence an astern run back to the wall. At the wall we hurriedly tie off the stern with the help of the local waving person and Fletch commences to strain up the anchor to get the boat sitting tight It is a perfect drop and tie and we are well pleased with ourselves in a very tight spot.Huge Gulets slide hard in beside with great skill and you are very pleased for the skill of their crews. In this breakwater harbour they are doing the same manoeuvre at right angles to us and opposite all at close quarters. the potential for crossing anchors is large.Once anchored and dripping, wringing wet we strolled the few yards to the breakwater side and down the steps of a very Amalfi look alike concrete "beach" with loungers and bar service and swam in the gin clear water off the breakwater. It was much cooler here courtesy of the fresh spring they say debouches close by.
We decided to dine in town and we started the slow gauntlet of moving past the touting restarants, so hard they are all good and they need your trade. At the top of the hill Gend immediately felt sick, out of no where and had a discrete but violent vomit. It continued as I assisted and shielded the spectacle in these narrow streets of restaurants. I felt a tap on my shoulder and it was a local proffering three moist towels with a sad grin on his face and offering unreservedly his help. Nice touch.
we dined well while Gend much recovered watched on. I had the local shish of large juicy succulent lamb chunks a far cry from the minuscule offerings of Istanbul and Pauly and Don had the cooked in the clay pot and broken open at the table lamb dish. Great spectacle and really good food, great service and unbeatable ambiance.
We woke a little late so missed the fresh pastie delivery but Fletch and I had planned a shave and haircut for me at the Lady Diana massage and hair parlour, followed by breakfast ashore.
We arrived for the shave but it was closed. No problem quick phone call and he and his off sider a young boy off about 12 clinging on the back as he canes it up the cobbled alley. its the Lady Dianna saloon pictures of her everywhere and I'm just not sure how far into the realms of depilatory services they ever got with her. Charles would probably prefer something a little more organic.
Just as we were about to start the very large dive Gulet at right angles to us starts to lift its anchor under ours and from the accounts of the girls back on board the boat lurches as if struck. Fletch and I delay the shave and retire to the sea wall to watch the Gulet cope with the problem. To them this is routine, tie the line off drop their anchor from under and continue on their way. Telecom would be very happy if every one treated their cables with such skill. Excitement over we adjourn to Lady Diana's saloon.
We woke a little late so missed the fresh pastie delivery but Fletch and I had planned a shave and haircut for me at the Lady Diana massage and hair parlour, followed by breakfast ashore.
We arrived for the shave but it was closed. No problem quick phone call and he and his off sider a young boy off about 12 clinging on the back as he canes it up the cobbled alley. its the Lady Dianna saloon pictures of her everywhere and I'm just not sure how far into the realms of depilatory services they ever got with her. Charles would probably prefer something a little more organic.
Just as we were about to start the very large dive Gulet at right angles to us starts to lift its anchor under ours and from the accounts of the girls back on board the boat lurches as if struck. Fletch and I delay the shave and retire to the sea wall to watch the Gulet cope with the problem. To them this is routine, tie the line off drop their anchor from under and continue on their way. Telecom would be very happy if every one treated their cables with such skill. Excitement over we adjourn to Lady Diana's saloon.
We got started with the haircut and once the comb went onto the clippers and it started its run I just started thinking what hat I could buy in town to wear back to the boat.The haircut was fast and furious but actually quite good, but the shave was going to be the interesting part. For my lumpy face and my interest in virology this is the bit that i was awaiting with some trepidation. He lathered me up from the full time everybody supply of soap, fitted up a new blade for the cut throat and started in. Very deft confident shaving as he manipulates your face and wipes the lather off on the palm of his hand. Only complaint was getting a bit close and personal when he puts his finger tip in your mouth under my lip to stretch out my lip line.
mental note that Hep A shots up to date.
The piece de resistance is the removal of any extraneous hairs from any other orifice. the method is small lint clump held in a piece of twisted fire dipped in meths and waved and touched to any of the suspect hairy areas. the number of these goes up with one's age but it is plunged under nose into the ears and across the cheeks. Much singeing and covering of eyes by his fast moving hands and its over.
mental note that Hep A shots up to date.
The piece de resistance is the removal of any extraneous hairs from any other orifice. the method is small lint clump held in a piece of twisted fire dipped in meths and waved and touched to any of the suspect hairy areas. the number of these goes up with one's age but it is plunged under nose into the ears and across the cheeks. Much singeing and covering of eyes by his fast moving hands and its over.
His offsider kicks in with a full wash shampoo then massage while sitting in the chair and he starts with Fletch's shave.The grip strength of this kid id astounding as he burrows into my traps just short of me crying out. Its the full full work out to the tips of the fingers a la Bali style.
Fletch and i stopped off at a restaurant right on the dock and orderd up a couple of breakfasts. Turkish for me and full English for him. His the usual mine bread fried egg, spam, tomato cucumber, olives honey and cherry conserve, absolutely beautiful all washed down with two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.
we quit Kalkan heading for Kash and the island of Kastellorizon. The Israeli sailors next to us in the harbour have given us the headsup on a blue grotto better than Capri. I can't wait.
Fletch and i stopped off at a restaurant right on the dock and orderd up a couple of breakfasts. Turkish for me and full English for him. His the usual mine bread fried egg, spam, tomato cucumber, olives honey and cherry conserve, absolutely beautiful all washed down with two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.
we quit Kalkan heading for Kash and the island of Kastellorizon. The Israeli sailors next to us in the harbour have given us the headsup on a blue grotto better than Capri. I can't wait.
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