POSTCARD FROM LEONIE
a broken key-way, bent bolts and electrolysis of the stern tube, cutlass bearing and packing gland. All needed replacing. Luckily, there was a traditional engineer based at the yard who could make most of the things we needed. But there was an added complication in that all of our old gear had imperial measurements, which were completely lost on the white-haired Greek engineer who is used to metric measurements. We also discovered the stern tube was loose and the prop shaft needed a skim of metal taking off to create a watertight seal in the stern tube. All this meant we had to spend a week in the hot, dusty yard and set us back a few quid more than we had wanted to spend.
But it was worth it to make Leonie
watertight again. We re-launched on the sledge, hitting the water backwards with fast beating hearts and a huge splash, which was exciting. Leonie continued to take in water
for a few days as her wooden hull had shrunk in the hot sun, so we hung about in Vliho Bay until this stopped. One night, the villagers were holding some sort of religious celebration which consisted of live Greek folk singing enhanced by a loud speaker system, which started at 11pm and carried on until dawn. We couldn’t actually see where it was coming from but it sounded like it was right outside the boat. Some of it was quite haunting and beautiful, although most of it sounded the same. We slept, fitfully, until 6am when a very sloshed Greek began caterwauling into the microphone. It was the last straw for some fed-up sailor whose pleading groan echoed around the anchorage. After that, the singing stopped.
Leonie anchored off Ligia in the Inland Ionian Sea
Leonie on stilts at Konidaris Boatyard Leonie’s leak had finally eased and
we decided to head off the next day. First though, we hired a motorbike to explore a bit of Lefkas. A few hours later we wished we hadn’t, as we had been involved in an accident on a stony mountain road. As an air force lorry overtook us, one of the straps holding its tarpaulin down that had come loose caught our wing mirror, pulling the bike over. We could see it all happening as if in slow motion but there was nothing we could do. Fortunately, we had slowed down to let the lorry past so didn’t skid along the road very far. Even so, Carl’s ankle swelled to the size of a golf ball and was gushing blood and mine was so sore I could hardly walk. The air force guys stopped but didn’t help, other than to direct us to the doctors in the village down the road we had just driven through. To cut a long story short, our injuries were so painful it meant we had to stay in Vliho Bay for a few more days. It was so frustrating as we had
travelled so far and for so long to reach Greece, the weather was glorious and there was so much to explore.
Three weeks after arriving in the
Inland Ionian, we were at last free to cruise its waters. First stop was Fiskardo, Cefalonia to meet up with friends from Dartmouth, Ruth and
Hedley, who were in town for a day or two. It was great to hear news from home and to finally be sailing again. Around the corner we discovered Foki Bay, a quiet sheltered treeline anchorage and the perfect stop for Carl’s birthday, especially as there was a lovely family-run tavern above the little beach at the head of the bay, where we ate the most divine cinna- mon flavoured moussaka and danced around the tables with the Greek chef/owner/dad. (Well I did, Carl’s ankle was still too fragile to risk it). We had six weeks left to cruise these stunning waters. We had made the hard decision to return home to Dartmouth to earn some money, as our finances had taken a bashing thanks to Leonie’s old engine splut- tering its last breath, the extortionate cost of Capri harbour (where we were forced to stay while waiting for a new engine to be delivered) and of the Italian marinas in general and the more recent expense of fixing the stern gland and associated problems. But for now, the sun was shining,
we were surrounded by stunning scenery, the Greek people were friendly and welcoming, the anchorages and ports were free to stay in and we had enough money for food and wine. Not a bad position to be in really.•
View of the Greek mainland from the Inland Ionian Sea
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