The Big Squeeze
The crushing tale of four fenders…
Morning came. The skipper, equally as restless as at the beginning of the trip from Dhokos to Serifos (Four) awoke first and poked his head from the companionway to find an overcast start to the day.
The morning light had given up the true topology of the bay. It was surrounded by steep slopes with abandoned mine workings and deep cuts in the hills where some kind of mineral had been extracted. A somewhat bleak place, and the wind was rising and the snoring from the crew was not abating.
Tempted by a morning swim, but a lack of sunshine put paid to that thought and a quick (and slightly brisk) sploosh with the cockpit shower saw the skipper putting the kettle on for the First Tea of the Day. The insistent and piercing shreek of the kettle is Gamecock’s Secondary Master Alarm Clock.
Soon, the crew were up and busy taking in the new views. Workmen were congregating at a villa construction site and it was fascinating to watch traditional stone wall building, the majority of the materials simply plucked from the foreshore, labour intensive and back breaking.
A breakfast of our favourite LIDL bacon, eggs and bread was prepared and as we ate, the sun finally won it’s battle with the clouds and the bay changed, chameleon like. What was grey stone and rock took on a sandier colour, the water which had been a dark grey turned blue and the crew of Gamecock began to think of Milos once more. The skipper checked the plotter, 25Nm to get onto the right (southernmost) side of the island, still a fair trip, so pans, plates, cups and cutlery were stowed and we prepared to leave the bay, thinking of warm sunshine and a nice wind.
At the exit of the bay the nice wind was not a nice wind at all. Bang on the nose for Milos, and gusting up to 20 knots. The sea was rising and lumpy already. The crew looked at the skipper all expectant like — surely he’s not going to do a day of bashing to windward is he? Will he remember that he’s a so called Gentleman. And gentlemen never sail to windward, especially if there’s a potential for regurgitating the bacon and eggs…
They were quite right. Not a chance, that’s not what I come on holiday for. Turn left said the skipper.
“We’re going to Livadi, sod this”, said the skipper.
And we did. A couple of left turns and we screamed into the deep bay that is Livadi, the wind already blowing 22 knots, and tucked ourselves up into the corner where there was barely a breath of wind, and only a couple of yachts. Knowing that the crew found stern to inconvenient, and flying in the face of Mediterranean traditions I generously opted for a space behind a yacht of a similar size, who’d also moored alongside and we coasted in in hot sunshine, deployed our 4 smartest fenders on the port side and tied up.
“We’ll stay here for a day or so until the wind eases”, said the skipper, almost sounding like he’d had a weather forecast.
Everyone hopped off the boat, fresh goodies were laid in, more ice stocked to cool the beers and all was well. Until that is the Greek sailor from the small boat came a visiting.
“Just so you know, there’s a strong wind forecast for later, from the North and West”, he said. “You’ll be OK there, just make sure your fenders are tied on, and you might want to put some more out”, he said helpfully.
Ever dismissive of anything to do with a weather forecast, this kindly sailor was instantly christened The Prophet of Doom.
But, the Prophet had spoken and the Doom arrived bang on time. before long Gamecock was leaning heavily on the fenders. What were nice cylinders were being compressed into sausage patties. Gamecock seemed unconcerned about her pneumatic friends as the wind gradually increased to 24 knots.
And there it stayed. 24 knots pretty much constantly, for 4 days. Occasionally it got a little exciting with some 30 knot gusts at which point the seaweed was being squirted up the lee side of the boat and up onto the quay. We had quite a pile of it after 4 days, kind of like a pile of grass cuttings, which would be amusing if it was in any way amusing. It wasn’t.
4 days of wind like that will send you mad. And it did…
