When traveling, day sails often reward with adventure and welcome breaks from tight work schedules, particularly when abroad. Such was the case in late June when I and a few associates chartered “Angelica”, a Jeanneau 40 for a day trip from Santorini to Anafi. We gathered early and drove through the Santorini slopes, covered by broad patches of grape fields and olive trees to the small harbor at Vlychada. Typical of Greek island ports, the jetty enclosed more boats than water; all brightly colored – tightly packed like netted fish. Laying warped together the varied vessels moved in rhythmic synchrony on the incoming swell. I felt their yearning call, bows pointing toward open water like stallions prancing at the gate in bridled longing for the freedom to run seaward.
Georgios was driving the bus. He was the boat’s owner; freshly gregarious, entertaining, and proud. Particularly of his sons who had just graduated from the Greek maritime academy and were learning the charter business from their father. Georgios laughed as he explained that our day’s destination, Anafi, was one of the mythical siren’s isles that had so lured Odysseus in more ancient times. “Watch out” Georgios declared, “you may not want to come back”. So he asked us to take the youngest son, 23 year old Michaelis along for insurance. Anafi is located 16 nm East of Santorini and we expected to lay the island in about 4 hours, just in time for a late lunch. A quick look at the charts, a tour of the boat, and we were off. Well, almost, as it took nearly 20 minutes to untangle the mooring web of lines from fishing boats that had arrived the previous night. At last, we motored out of the harbor, set our sails, and found a fresh moderate breeze. With chart in hand, we set course for Anafi. Michaelis pointed to a region of water ahead that contained an uncharted sand shoal. “Many boats stuck there”, explained Michaelis in his broken English, “Not good”. I got the point, as that would have made for a short day indeed. We rounded the shoal and marveled at the changing hues in the sea: a light aqua merged through paints of blue-green that spun into deep royal blue. As is often the case on these day sails, few aboard were sailors. Since I was responsible for initiating our adventure, I was concerned for my in experienced colleagues as the boat heeled on a smooth reach. It had been my decision sail from Santorini to Anafi, in lieu of the more popular cruise through Santorini’s picturesque, but often windless, volcano caldera. Not to worry though, the swells were low, the breeze perfect, the sun was shining, and the crew was ecstatic. Surely the day promised to provide an experience to be remembered by all.
I soon learned a great deal from young Michaelis about the island currents and local winds. The winds in the Cyclades often alter direction and force on a smaller scale, dependent largely by the shape of the islands, the time of day, and the seasonal effects of the famed strong Meltemi flows from Macedonia. In the near group of islands, there are many directional shifts and velocity changes. These vary as one snags between islands and as the shore grows close. As we rounded the North-eastern end of Thira to port, I could see the building white caps and increased seas ahead. These were the combined effects of current and wind as they hit Thira’s northern mountain shores. Like boulders in a stream the tall island mountains forced both ocean and breeze to veer aside in a rapid punch. I steered up into the anticipated lift just as the wind velocity increased to +25 knots. Angelica responded, but and heeled to 30 degrees as she strode forward into the blue and white. Exuberance abounded from the first timers aboard. I was thrilled at their response but we laid in the first reef anyway to flatten the boat. Soon enough though, as Thira pressed behind by a kilometer or so, the wind shifted to the North once again and lessened back to 14 knots. We shook the reef and held course toward Anafi.
We spent the next few hours discussing the local islands, beautiful beaches, sea conditions, all the while admiring the deep distant blue of the Cycladic Sea around us. Oh, that water! Blues that invite one to dream. Hypnotic intensities that deepen in hue as you gaze further below into the unknown. Rich and bold, full of anticipation like predawn skies, the blue waters slide beneath the hull only to transform into lighter shades of aqua and white in the trailing wake. It was as if our passing absorbed some of the abundant sea’s energy to calm our hearts and push us ever onward. Michaelis knew these waters well, but most of his experience was aboard power boats in the merchant marine. So we had fun tweaking the sails and he was an eager learner. We tweaked the jib car and watched the telltales change on cue, we tightened the leech line to relieve the flogging aft, and we adjusted the sheet in/out to see the effect on speed. Out shared language limits, my little Greek and his little English mattered less, as we each moved slowly, tried something and say the effects. Smiles go a long way when minds are open. It was a good exchange between Mihaelis and I, two sailors in their element, each gaining the other’s confidence. Angelica was well cared for (advantage from chartering from small private families) and handled nicely. Angelica and Michaelis shared a birth year, both being 23 years old. However, Angelica had recently been fit with a new mast, new rigging, and newly installed 75hp diesel auxiliary. Michaelis told me that he was happy because we were using the sails and not the engine. Most charter guests get scared when the boat heels and they have to take the sails down. Or more often, the just motor through the Santorini caldera where there is typically no wind. He grinned as the wind pushed us along and I could tell he was admiring his boat for what she could do. I felt grateful.
An couple of hours further and Thira was fading in the distance. Anafi was a faint shape but visible, beaconing us onward. Spotted mountains soon became visible with a small white-washed village high upon a cliff. Anafi is permanent home to only 50 or so inhabitants, but swells to near 100 souls during the summer months. As we approached, Michaelis reminded us of the ancient Sirens story. He read to us the description of the mythical siren maiden beauties with fare faces and bodies were composed of embolden eagles that would swoop down on approaching sailors from the cliffs. The Siren’s would sing enchanting muses that were said to appeal so sweetly to the sailors that many would be enticed to jump ship in uncontrolled desire, only to drown in the end. So goes the legend, however on this day we threw caution to the wind and tied no one to the mast.
As we continued, Anafi loomed larger and more detail emerged. Michaelis pointed out the rocky reefs of concern. We steered clear and skirted the outer banks toward the lone small harbor. Curious, but as we rounded the breakwater, I could swear that I was listening a little more intently the sounds of the wind through the rigging, sails, and the sweet sounds of water passing under the hull. Faint calls could also be heard of the lapping waves on the nearing creamy sand beaches. Listen, oh just listen! Was that the sound of the Sirens or distant falcons along the cliff side? Oh, Anafi was an indeed an enchanting island. Then, it hit us. The first faint wafting aromas from the lonely inviting tavernas that hung over the tiny port. I breathed a little deeper and let my palate and heart yearn for what lay ahead.
We docked at the lone wharf and departed for a short swim on a nearby golden beach. Our only companion was a stray dog eager to play in the sand and surf. The beach lay below a small cliff, with pocket caves and sand extrusions that colored the sparkling clear waters shades of blue, aqua, green, and white. Before our walk, we stopped at a taverna adjacent to the shore and ordered a light lunch of fresh Mediterranean salad, bread from the oven, and local cheese. It was ready for us after our swim and with some small conversation, a quick meal and a heartfelt thanks, we were off again to experience the afternoon delights of the sail home to Thira. We left the harbor under power to clear the rocky shoals, and set course only to find that during our break, the winds had shifted once again toward the NNW and the swells had increased. That meant we would beat home at about 50 degrees off the wind. Instead, we decided to unleash the beast and motor directly into the wind along the coast until we cleared Anafi. Mihaelis predicted that a more northerly flow would be found west of the island, so we could then change course and have a fine reach home. The diversion only cost us an extra 45 minutes, be meant we had to punch into narrow seas at first. Angelica danced through the waves and dived into the crests that split into peaks that covered the foredeck in spray. Again, we had lots of enthusiasm from the novice crewmembers; a delight to hear. Soon, we passed the western edge of the island and felt the header winds begin to envelope us. We fell off, furled out all sail and headed for Thira.
This was fun sailing! The wind was steady at 14 knots, with near one meter swells catching us broadly from aft. At the helm on the low side rail, I loved the feel of Angelica as she rose from behind, lunged forward to surf the wave face, and then slowed again in the valleys. My instincts were in control now, tuned to Angelica’s motion. It was effortless as I became one with the boat, riding her motion like a stallion. Slightly head up on the crests and fall off in the troughs. It was an existential moment. Anafi faded into the building afternoon haze like a desert mirage, then was gone. Now, only sea remained in view. As if on cue, a pod of playful dolphins off the leeward bow reminded us that we were not alone in the blue vastness surrounding us. We put a preventer line on the boom for peace of mind and it was good time for all. Three hours passed quickly. Only too soon Thira was spotted rising from the sea; her mountains formed large and prominent. I felt a bit of sadness, no remorse really, at the closing of the day. Although short, our voyage had been a treasure for us all. For me at least, the day provided another blue water passage toward discovery of self, sea, and friendship. We made the Vlychada approach, furled the sails and motored into the harbor mouth. As we passed the jetty, I managed a last glance toward Anafi and listened. Low over the sea, I thought I could just hear the delicious longing chorus of the ancient sirens, beaconing us with their wanting refrain of “Return, return”. Someday, so I will.
