august 1 2006 : bodrum, turkey
It’s been sort of a rough month for Ali and I. It seems that when things go wrong on the boat they just come in waves. Yesterday morning we took the dinghy into town. On the way in the outboard broke. It still drove, but it was sort of like if you couldn’t get your car out of first gear. If we revved it harder it didn’t go any faster. It took us about 30 minutes to get back to the boat at the speed of a crawl. Back at the boat I tried to work on it but the seas were too rough, so we decided to head to the marina.

Once there we called a Yamaha mechanic to get his thoughts. He didn’t speak much English but he said it sounded like bad fuel to him. I didn’t see how bad fuel could be causing the problem but decided to clean out the carb and run some new fuel through it to find out. I started to tear it apart while Ali went to get the gas. She came back a few minutes later with the unsurprising news that the marina’s gas pump was broken and the nearest station was a mile and a half away. Not really believing that the fuel was the problem anyway we decided that we’d just bring the motor into the shop and have them take a look at it there. They had told us if we brought it to them they could have it back to us the same day. So we loaded the outboard into a taxi and drove to the shop which was right next to the gas station. I tried to explain the problem to them again, but they didn’t understand any English so we just left them to do their job.

An hour later we returned and they said they had fixed it. The problem had indeed been bad fuel. They cleaned the carb, replaced the plugs, and tuned it up a bit. They had the engine inside a large tank of water so we started it up and I revved it as hard as I could. Water seemed to really be shooting out of the tank though it was impossible to tell for sure if anything had changed. We paid them, loaded back into a taxi, stopped at the gas station for some fresh gas, and went back to the boat. There I hooked up the motor, hauled the gas tank to the marina station where I could empty the $30 worth of bad fuel into one of their containers, went back to the boat and mixed up the new gas, hooked everything back up and fired up the engine. I pulled away from the boat and revved, and nothing happened. Still no power. I had been feeling like a bit of an idiot for bringing a motor to a mechanic only to find out that it was simply bad fuel. Something which would normally take me just a few minutes to remedy myself. But I still just didn’t see how that could have been the problem and now we found out that after hours of lugging an outboard motor around town that it wasn’t the problem and we were no closer to fixing it.

So now we went back to the marina office and they called the mechanic for us. He told us he’d send somebody over to check it out. The guy showed up fifteen minutes later and hopped in the dinghy with me. I pulled away from the dock, revved the motor, and he instantly said, “Is the prop.” He called the shop and told them to send down a new prop, and we pulled the old one off and found that the inside of the prop casing had split into two pieces. It still hooked up enough to provide a little power, but as soon as you put any load on it it just slipped. The new prop showed up, we popped it on, and I zipped away, this time with full power.

By now, about 7 hours had passed since we began this little project. It was extremely hot and we’d been in the sun all day long. We didn’t have enough cash on us to pay him for the prop so we walked out with him to the ATM right outside the marina gate. Out of order. We asked him where the next closest one was and found out it was all the way up in town, a mile and a half away. So off we went again. I really wasn’t feeling well at this point, my body ached all over and I was as hot as can be. We made it to the ATM, the first one we tried was again out of order, but across the street we found one that worked. We got the money and started back. That’s when I suddenly felt like I was going to vomit and pass out at the same time. I fell onto a park bench and Ali went to get some water. I really couldn’t control my body at that point, it felt as if I was totally breaking down. My mind was working, and I knew what was going on, but I was virtually unable to move or speak. We sat there for 15 minutes drinking bottle after bottle of water and pouring it all over myself and eventually I came around and could function again. Anyway, with that little drama behind us we made our way back to the marina, paid the mechanic and went for a cold shower. After which, feeling much better, we went out for Chinese food. It’d been ages since we had Chinese and the fact that this one restaurant served Chinese, Italian, Turkish, Japanese, and Mexican dishes wasn’t going to dissuade us. The food was good, but of course to put the finishing touch on a great day the restaurant tried to charge us for three extra drinks.

Today we decided to just take it easy and stay out of the sun as much as possible. But not before first washing the boat. In the afternoon we took a bus out to the movie theater and killed a few hours there before heading back to the marina. There we paid our bill, a shocking $120 for two nights. Guess we should have checked that before we came in. After having it cost only about $9 a night in Marmaris we just didn’t give it much thought.

So in the morning we are clearing out of Turkey, I hate to say it, but we’re happy to do so. We’ll probably catch all kinds of crap for saying it but we really didn’t enjoy Turkey at all. Other cruisers seem to love it, spending years in the marinas here, but we just didn’t find anything about cruising the Turkish coast appealing. It was like driving down the freeway and then trying to find a parking space at the shopping mall. The scenery was okay, the water clear, but the bays are so unbelievably crowded and the towns so touristy that we felt more like we were in Disneyland than Turkey. We did enjoy our road trip and our visit to Istanbul which makes me think that if we were ever to return to Turkey we’ll stay as far away from the coast as possible.

Oh well, we can’t expect to love every place we visit on a trip like this. Just look at the Marquesas. One thing is for sure, I would have never thought we’d be in Turkey saying we wished that we were back in Yemen instead.

august 3 2006 : kos, greece
After the shortest distance we’ve ever traveled between two countries, eight miles, we found ourselves in Greece yesterday afternoon. Clearing out of Turkey was easy enough once everybody finally showed up for work. Clearing into Greece was a different story.

After tracking down the first office just fine and receiving their paperwork, I set out to find the customs officer. This took nearly two hours as I was sent from one end of town to the other a half dozen times. I eventually found him though, and he seemed like a nice guy who was going to bang out my paperwork and send me on my way. But then he asked for my boat registration, the one truly official piece of paper showing the boat is ours.

This is the routine in every country in the world, but here we suddenly had a problem. He looked at the copy I handed him, crumpled it up in his hand and spat on it. Or at least made that fake spitting motion that people do in the movies to show their disgust with something. He apparently was not happy with just a copy and wanted the original.Now the reason that I could not produce the original is a long story full of shady characters and criminal elements that I’m not even going to try and go into here, so I just explained instead that we’ve been sailing for three years and the original was back home in the States.

He didn’t like this at all and asked how I was going to prove that the boat was mine. I told him he could look at my passport which was full of Bumfuzzle references and I also had other papers here that I could show him. “All copies!” he yelled out. At this point I was still half expecting him to break out laughing and say he was just joking, but he was totally serious. He told me to go back to the boat and return with some official papers proving my ownership.

I went back to the boat and told Ali the story. She dug through our paperwork and pulled out the bill of sale and a couple of other closing documents. I spat on them and yelled, “All copies!” She thought that was funny, but still couldn’t track down any originals. With my new copies I headed back in.

I tracked customs down once again, this time at a different office. Now there were three of them; the good cop, the bad cop, and the grinning sidekick. I produced the latest copies for their inspection. The original officer looked totally unimpressed with these papers as well, but fortunately a new guy took over the proceedings and acted a bit more lenient. He flipped through all the papers, nodding thoughtfully, and then made a call to their superior to explain the situation. Obviously the superior couldn’t have cared less, because the phone call lasted just fifteen seconds before my paperwork was being processed. Minutes later I was shuttled out of the office.

When I arrived at the port police office to meet my final official, the first thing he asked me for was my boat registration. I handed him the copy and he asked, “Where is the original?” I turned around fully expecting to find two people standing there, one with a camera, and one white haired man with a microphone. This had to be Candid Camera. But there was nobody behind me and this guy was as serious as the last. I explained that I had just spent the past couple of hours with customs explaining this very issue and showed him my other copies. Somehow I persuaded him to believe it was my boat. He stamped my papers and we were officially cleared into Greece.

There was nothing left to do after that but to collect Ali and deposit ourselves at one of the harbor front tavernas for a few Mythos beers. Kos is only a few miles from Turkey, and it is really geared towards tourists as well, but it’s got a much better vibe. Much more “chill” for lack of a better word.

august 5 2006 : kos
The next day we went to the beach to spend the day doing nothing. European beaches are a far cry from any beach we’ve ever been to. The beach is lined with restaurants who have covered every inch of sand with sunchairs and umbrellas for you to enjoy for free. People are packed shoulder to shoulder and everybody is naked. Well the women are naked and the men may as well be for all the cloth they’ve got covering them. Being the prudish Americans we just can’t get a handle on all of this. We spent a few hours at the beach, then grabbed a gyro for lunch, and went back to the boat.

Immediately upon returning to the boat we knew something was up again. There was blue paint all over the place. Somebody had climbed onto the boat, getting blue bottom paint on their feet in the process, and then walked from window to window. Everything was locked up tight though and they didn’t get in this time. We were disappointed to say the least. We’ve never worried about leaving the boat in the past and now suddenly we feel like we can’t let it out of our sight. It’s obvious that everywhere we go now there are people on shore watching us and just waiting for us to leave. We had really hoped to leave the robbery behind us in Turkey but here we go again. To top things off they managed to scrape a big chunk of our striping off the side of the boat. Yeah, the same one we had replaced all of about two weeks ago.

Here in Greece we have to check in and out of every single island that we visit. I figured after we were cleared into the country and had the transit log they required us to use, it would be an easy process, but I was wrong. They immediately asked for our original boat registration again and told us we could not leave the island until we had it.

So this morning, with the original paper in hand (long story), we proceeded to the port police office again. We handed over the original registration, and a copy of our “insurance.” Greece is the first country we’ve visited that insists that we be insured. We, like at least half the cruisers out here, consider ourselves to be self-insured. However, a promise that we’ll pay for any damage that we do doesn’t seem to cut it here. Fortunately we foresaw that this was going to be a problem and we created our very own self-insurance company. We pay a deductible of $0 per month to ourselves in exchange for coverage equal to the amount of our bank balance. We even issued ourselves some insurance paperwork that looks pretty official and passed some very close scrutinizing by the Greek authorities.

But still, with our originals in hand, and our insurance papers cleared, the officer asked me for my captain’s certificate. Keep in mind we’ve already been cleared into the country and are now just trying to sail from one island to another fifty miles away.

“Captain’s certificate?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t have a captain’s certificate.”
“Oh boy. We’ve got a big problem then. How did you sail here without a certificate?”
“Nobody else has ever required one.” I told her.
“But you are the captain, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must have a certificate. Stay here while I get my boss.”

Luckily, as usual, the top officer didn’t care about any of it and told her to finish my paperwork. Eventually we were cleared to proceed to the next island where presumably we will go through all of this again. The captain’s certificate thing made me think of something I just read recently. It was another cruising website, about some lawyer and his wife who bought a cat and went sailing. Before they left they both took hundreds of hours of classes and received their captains licenses which they said gave them the authority to captain a vessel with up to six passengers, or something like that. I didn’t think much of that until I was reading the website further. Three years into their voyages they had never sailed offshore overnight. Finally they were heading off on a short hop down the East Coast and I was laughing about it because they sounded just like us on our first offshore passage to Panama, all nervous and not sleeping, the only difference being that these two were certified captains who had been sailing their boat for three years. And that’s the piece of paper Greece wants to see to prove I am a competent captain?

august 6 2006 : astypalea, greece
Yesterday we motored around to the other side of Kos, 25 miles away. We don’t have a proper cruising guide for the Med so we’ve just been sort of looking at the charts, finding a place that looks reasonably well protected from the wind, and then heading there to see what it’s like. This side of the island turned out to be for the wind surfers and Hobie racers. They were everywhere, by the hundreds, but the bay was huge and we found a nice stretch of coast to anchor off of that didn’t have any development in front of it and was pretty well deserted. The water was beautiful and the anchoring had the best holding we’ve found in weeks.

The weather has been absolutely perfect lately. It is totally predictable. In the morning it is perfectly calm until about 11 when the wind slowly builds up to a maximum of 15 knots and you get choppy little waves. This goes on until about 5 o’clock when it starts to slowly die away and it once again returns to perfectly calm conditions until the next day.

This morning we left for Astypalea, the next island over about 40 miles away. With our mornings calm conditions we made nice progress. Our freshly painted bottom has done wonders and we seem to be moving at least a half knot faster these days. Like clockwork the wind picked up at 11 and we constantly put out the jib then rolled it back in, put it out and rolled it in, as the wind shifted from one side of the boat to the other over and over again. Early in the afternoon we came around the corner and made our way through the miniscule entrance to Vathy Inlet.

This bay is one mile long and a quarter mile wide and is completely surrounded by scrubby hills. It’s like an inland lake, except for the 30 yard wide pass leading into it. We came in and the place was empty except for one power boat anchored in front of one of the two houses in the bay. We picked a spot way down towards the end all by ourselves and dropped anchor. We hadn’t even finished setting the anchor when another sailboat came in behind us. They pointed their bow our way and came straight for us. Ali and I just stood there with our jaws wide open as they circled right next to us dropped their anchor and fell back directly alongside of us not 50 feet away. Lately I feel like I’m always waiting for people to say “just kidding!” but they never do.

So ten minutes after dropping anchor in a mile long lake with a uniform 25 foot bottom we raised our anchor, drifted back a ways and dropped the anchor again reestablishing just a little bit of personal space. We immediately jumped in the water and set out to climb one of the hills surrounding us. The rocky shorelines here are always covered with sea urchins which makes getting in and out of the water a little tricky. Ashore, Ali stayed at the waters edge protecting our belongings from the goats while I climbed the hill following the goats’ paths to try and get a nice overall picture of the place.

august 8 2006 : astypalea
It’s hard to believe what a vast improvement cruising in Greece has been versus Turkey. So far the anchorages have been virtually empty, even the town quays have had space available for us, though we’ve chosen to just anchor out nearby instead. After a night in our little lake anchorage we sailed around to the other side of the island to check out the town of Astypalea.

When we were still three miles away we could see that we were going to like this place. It’s a medium sized town that climbs from the water straight up the hill and surrounds the old castle that’s standing at the top. It’s the quintessential Greek island town. As we got closer we could see that there was a town quay that we could tie up to. There were four other boats tied up there and after watching one of them lift his chain with another boats chain attached to it and then seeing him slam into the mega-yacht he was tied up next to we decided we’d go ahead and anchor just across from them in the mouth of the bay instead.

After anchoring we went in to have a look around. We love the place. It is everybody’s vision of Greece. The hills are covered with white cube houses with blue shutters and doors, the whitewashed stairways leading up the hills are covered over with grape vines. Old men wearing fishermen caps sit mending nets along the waterfront, and at the small beach in town dozens of kids play in the water. And all of this overlooking a small bay with our boat anchored in the middle of it. Perfect.

We picked a small restaurant with a view of the whole scene and sat back with a lunch of spicy meatballs and cold beers to watch the town go about its business. While sitting there we watched as the fuel truck pulled up to fill one of the fishing boats and I was able to walk down and fill our jerry jugs as well, which was a relief since a gas station was nowhere in sight. And we also ran in to the port police office right on the waterfront to get our paperwork stamped. After the hassles in Kos we weren’t expecting the smoothest transaction here either, but the guy was completely uninterested and didn’t even stamp our papers since we had anchored instead of tying up to the wall. At night, back on the boat, the view was just as beautiful as during the day. The towns white buildings glowed against the dark hills and the castle was lit up standing watch over all of it.

This morning I decided I’d better have a closer look at our starboard engine. The other day when I replaced the impeller there was a noticeable improvement in the exhaust water flow, but we could tell it still wasn’t 100%. So today I opened the engine up and took off the hose that leads into the heat exchanger. In there I found exactly what I expected to find, about 6 chunks of broken rubber impeller and a whole bunch of little shells. All of this combined to really restrict the water flow. The engine had also started to smoke the last few days. It was a white smoke and it was continuous. My book told me it was either water in the fuel or else something that meant we were basically screwed. I decided to pray for dirty fuel and went ahead and replaced the fuel filters again. The pre filter was absolutely filthy. And lastly I gave the alternator belt a quick tightening. After putting everything back together, bleeding the fuel line, and making sure all the seacocks were open, we fired her up. Anytime I mess with the fuel lines I’m happy when the engine starts right up, then I was glad to see the water was flowing out of the exhaust 10 times better than before, and lastly I was thrilled to see a distinct lack of smoke. For once it seemed something went exactly as planned, and even worked properly afterwards.

After that we went ashore to climb the hills through town and check out the castle at the top. The castle here is kind of cool because it wasn’t so much used as a place of defense as just a communal place to live. And the amazing thing to me was that people lived there right up until a big earthquake in the 1950s destroyed a lot of it and made it unsafe. This meant that there were pictures of the castle while it was still complete and being lived in. There were still a few narrow passageways leading to the different “apartments” inside and there were some amazing views of the new city as well. After the castle we made our way back to the bottom of the hill where we lazed away the rest of the day on the beach before grabbing dinner and calling it a night.

august 11 2006 : santorini, greece
After Astypalea we motored 30 miles over to Anafi, which is just a tiny island with a population of 273. The weather was calm and we had a nice smooth ride over. Along the eastern side of Anafi is Monastery Rock which is the highest rock formation in the Mediterranean Sea at 470 meters. We passed underneath the rock, went around the corner, and dropped the anchor in front of a small beach all by ourselves. We spent the day swimming and hanging out on the boat. The water here in Greece is beautiful, clean, and clear, though there is absolutely nothing in it. Occasionally we’ll see a fish about the size of our pinky but that is about the extent of it. We didn’t know what the local fisherman were trying to catch with their nets until we saw a plate full of those tiny fish come out at a restaurant.

We spent a quiet night there and then left the next morning for Santorini. In the early afternoon we found ourselves cruising through a submerged caldera of a volcano, home to the biggest volcanic eruption in recorded history. So what in 1600 BC was a big round island is now moon-shaped, with cliffs that rise straight up out of the water and tower hundreds of feet in the air. Looking at our charts, I couldn’t find any suitable anchorages as the cliffs hit the water and continue straight down a few hundred feet farther. It looked like there might be a tiny shallow area near the town of Oia so we headed that way.

When we got to Oia we found that the town, like all the others on Santorini, was actually located at the top of the cliffs. As we came in we saw that there were two sailboats on moorings just off the shore and one of them was leaving. Realizing that there seemed to be no hope of anchoring anywhere inside the caldera we were relieved to be able to pick up the now vacant mooring.

The setting here is really incredible. We need to crane our necks and look straight up in order to see any of the homes clinging to the cliffs high above us. Down at the waters edge there are just a couple of buildings, one of which is a small taverna that we quickly made our way over to. The owner was a friendly fellow who was also the harbor master. He seemed completely unconcerned that we had picked up the mooring, indicating only that we pay him before we leave. His wife made us a nice home-cooked meal of pork souvlaki while we sat back and watched the occasional ferry boat pass by. The taverna was one of the greatest places we’ve been to relax, eat, drink ouzo, and watch the world go by.

august 12 2006 : folegandros, greece
Yesterday we made our way up to the top of Santorini into the town of Oia. Oia is probably the most picturesque spot we’ve ever been. You couldn’t walk ten feet without wanting to take a picture of something. The town was a maze of narrow walkways with only one road in and out. There were a ton of little souvenir shops, some better than others. Most were selling crafts of one sort or another, as well as quite a few jewelry shops, and lots of expensive restaurants. Ali found a little mirror that she really liked until she flipped it over and found the IKEA sticker on the back. That would have been a great Greek souvenir. Reminded us of the bowl in the South Pacific we liked that was MADE IN INDONESIA.

We then came across a little shop selling hand made rugs where we actually got to watch the lady make them. She got our business. When it was time to eat we searched out the only restaurant we could find that didn’t have a view of the water meaning they had prices about half of what they had everywhere else. They didn’t have the first couple of things Ali tried to order and instead of explaining what they did have they just had her go back in the kitchen and have a look for herself where the cook pointed out her favorite dish and Ali ordered it.

For some reason we were surprised by how much we liked Oia. We climbed up the hill in the morning not really expecting much but somehow we spent the entire day walking around exploring the narrow passageways. It was another picture perfect Greek town. Back at the boat later on, we were talking about how much we were enjoying Greece. The peaceful anchorages, good food, great towns, friendly locals, and relaxing atmosphere. The place almost seems too good to be true.

Of course today’s choice of islands may have slightly marred that picture. We cruised across to Folegandros in the morning anticipating a quiet little island, which it was when we arrived. We came in and found a nicely protected harbor with a couple of boats tied up to the wharf and a couple of boats anchored and tied off to the rocks around the edge of the bay. We anchored and tied off as well and then headed for the little town at the head of the bay. Like a lot of the islands in Greece this one has a tiny little harborside town and the main town is up at the top of the hill. They are all named Hora, which means simply, main town. Anyway, we walked around the town which took about three minutes and then found a little restaurant to sit and chill at for a couple of hours.

Back on the boat we hung out reading and swimming the rest of the afternoon. All was well right up until about six o’clock when the island was suddenly invaded. I don’t know where everybody was coming from but boat after boat came filing into the bay. It may have just been because it’s the weekend or else this is just the best bay in Greece, either way it got crazy. Boats eventually started eyeballing the ever decreasing spaces near our boat. We managed to get a couple of them alongside of us without too much drama but then one powerboat came backing in and didn’t seem to have a firm grasp on what they were doing. Eventually they came floating right for us with nobody on the controls and nobody really doing much of anything. Ali was getting out fenders but I finally had to jump on their boat and push them off of us as their giant transom was about to gouge the middle of our boat. They never even said a word to us while this was going on or afterwards. Weird. It’s just about dark now so the boats have stopped coming in and we’re hoping for a calm night so we can get the heck out of here first thing in the morning. Probably exactly what everybody else is thinking too.

august 14 2006 : milos, greece
We were the first people up and on our way the next morning and had yet another easy motor over to Milos. One of the nice things about cruising the Greek Islands is that you can pretty much always see the next destination, and it never feels like you have far to go. We arrived in Adamas, Milos and found a nice little town with a bunch of boats tied up along the waterfront quay. The bay was huge though, and totally protected from the sea so we just chose to anchor out.

We went into town and had a quick walk around, but it was scorching, it was Sunday, and about the only thing happening were the waterfront cafés. So once again we pulled up a couple of chairs to eat, drink, and watch the world go by. As we were sitting there I was thinking to myself that it seems like all we do in Greece is eat, drink, and watch the world go by. Just then Ali said, “You know it seems like all we do here in Greece is eat, drink, and watch the world go by.” Just one of those weird moments, but it’s true, that is about all there is to do here, that and go for a swim to cool off after doing all that sitting. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, it’s a great way to pass a day or week. Looking around us it seems that’s all anybody is doing here. We sat for hours and so did every other table around us.

Today we went into town to find out about getting duty free fuel since we are checking out of the country. We finally found customs where we were told that we didn’t qualify because we were a private boat. That didn’t seem to jive with the information I had read, but it seemed unlikely I was going to change all of the custom officers minds on the subject so we gave up the idea. We dropped off our laundry, bought still more souvenirs, hit the grocery store, the internet café, the bakery, and finally the gas truck along the quay. Now we’re heading back in to get the last of our diesel, pick up laundry, have dinner, and clear out. We’ve still got another island to hit before we leave Greece but it’s not a clearance port which is why we’re clearing out here.

august 16 2006 : kythira, greece
We just arrived in Kythira after a quick downwind, overnight passage. Yesterday we finished our clearing out of the country formalities which included going to the port police office and telling them we were leaving. The officer said, “Okay, no problem.” And proceeded to wave us away. But I didn’t think our next country would like seeing that we had an entrance stamp in our passport for Greece but no exit stamp so we kind of forced our way into the office and explained that we needed some sort of stamp and paperwork. He obligingly gave us what we wanted and told us to have a nice trip. Typical that after the hassle in Kos with getting cleared in that not one other officer in the country cared one bit that we were there. Which is why we didn’t think too much about coming to Kythira even though we were supposedly officially cleared out of the country.

It was sort of strange sailing overnight again, it’s been a long time now since we’ve had to do that. There were a handful of fishing boats around but otherwise we had a pretty clear path through the islands. Ali was having a little trouble staying awake though after all these weeks of long nights of sleep.

Yesterday we realized that we may have been getting way too much sun lately when the little old man that owned the restaurant we had lunch at asked us if we were from Italy. And that was after talking with him. I still don’t think he believed we were Americans.

And it’s starting to look like I may have spoken too soon when I declared that our rudder fix hadn’t worked. We haven’t had any water come in since that first day. Granted we haven’t had any really rough seas to give it a proper test yet, but it’s looking good for now. The only other boat issue we’re dealing with at the moment is the charging problem. This all started way back in Egypt when the starboard engine stopped charging the system properly. We tried everything we could but finally gave up on that for the time being and had been going along fine with just using the port engine for battery charging but suddenly that is now acting up as well. Everything seems fine for the first hour or so but then out of the blue the battery alarm starts going off and the alternator starts cycling on and off forcing us to turn the key and shut off the alternator all together. So I’ve got some troubleshooting ahead of me on this one.

august 18 2006 : en route to malta
Yesterday we hung out on the boat in the morning before going ashore to rent a scooter. This was one of the bigger islands we had been to and there was quite a few little sights to see around it. We went in to the only rental place in town and asked for a scooter. The only thing he said to us was “Let me see your drivers license.” I handed it over and he said, “I cannot rent to you, you must have an International Driving Permit.” End of discussion. The Greeks are sticklers for those international documents, nothing gets done without them. Actually that is the one thing we wish we had gotten before we left on this trip. A couple of countries have asked for it but were willing to look the other way. And in Indonesia that is one of the things the cops shook me down over. Anyway, with our plans for the day shot and no way to get around the island we decided to take off. Next stop Malta, a tiny blip of a country just under the boot of Italy about four days away.

Before we left I poked around in the port engine compartment to see if I could find anything obvious as to why the alternator was goofing up on us. Everything was clean and the wiring seemed good but the belt was just slightly loose. So I tightened that up, not really thinking that could have been the cause of the problem. But 24 hours into the trip it hasn’t cut out on us once.

On a whim we emailed my Mom to see if she was busy this week and told her we’d be in Malta in five days. She emailed us back the next day and said she’d booked a flight and would see us on Tuesday. So that’s pretty exciting. We have absolutely zero information on Malta so we’ll be exploring this country together.

august 19 2006 : en route
There is absolutely nothing happening out here in the Med. The wind has been more or less five knots for three days now. We’ve been motoring steadily along the entire time. We read a book that talked about this same passage and they got plastered by the meltemi, a strong northwest wind that is supposed to be pretty much a daily occurrence in this part of the Mediterranean, yet we haven’t seen winds over ten knots in weeks.

august 21 2006 : valetta, malta
After another successful and simple passage in which we only turned off the engines for two hours, we arrived in Valetta, Malta. We found a spot at a marina right in the heart of the city, which is absolutely beautiful. The buildings, all of which look to be hundreds of years old, completely surround and tower over us. Before doing anything we gave the boat a good wash, and are now off to have a walk around town to find customs and get checked in. We haven’t had a chance to research Malta, so at this point we really have no plans, but from the looks of it there should be plenty to see. Mom arrives tomorrow morning too so we should be keeping busy.

august 23 2006 : valetta
On our first day in Valetta we set out to get checked in, find a hotel for my mom, and have dinner. We took a water taxi across the harbor to Valetta where we were dropped off at the customs office. We went inside there and told the guy that we had just arrived. He took our passports, flipped through them, took a piece of paper with just our names on it, and told us to have a nice time and to come see him again when we were leaving. No passport stamp, no nothing, I think we could stay a few years if we liked. Our water taxi then took us to the other end of Valetta so we wouldn’t have to walk so far in the heat. We didn’t have any Maltese money yet so he told us to just pay him later.

We walked around town just admiring all of the old buildings and amazing architecture. Malta is a devoutly Catholic country and there are churches everywhere and it seems not a minute goes by where there aren’t bells chiming somewhere in the city. Walking by one little church we heard some chanting going on and went in to have a look. It was about two o’clock on a Monday but there were probably twenty people inside having themselves a good prayer. We sat down in a pew at the back and listened to the recorded sermon playing over the loudspeaker while admiring the grandiose building.

Back out on the streets we were having trouble finding a place to have a drink and eat seeing as it was siesta time. Finally we walked by one little place that sounded busy. We poked our heads in the door and found a little six table place that seemed to be pretty happening. Unfortunately the owner told us that they were closed, lunch was over. But then the guys brother who was sitting nearby and whose birthday it turned out to be told us to come on in. We pulled up a table and the owner said he’d bring us something to eat but that most of the menu was gone. He ended up bringing five mezze plates, basically appetizers. We had shrimp, mussels, fried cheese, a whole fish, and pasta. It was great. Meanwhile the birthday party was still going on and the birthday boy was now singing Italian songs as loudly as he could. Pretty soon the place emptied out and it was just us, the birthday boy, the owners, and the chef sitting around drinking pretty much everything they had behind the bar. We had a really fun time with them but eventually forced ourselves to leave since we still had to find a hotel.

We walked around town a while longer, found a nice hotel, and then found a nice McDonald’s where we could polish off that mezze lunch with a Big Mac before heading home. Back down at the waterfront we didn’t know how we were going to find our water taxi guy but after about fifteen minutes we saw him tooling around out in the harbor and waved him down. It seemed him and a couple of his friends were just hanging out and having a few beers but they gladly loaded us in for the ride across. On the way they insisted that we drink one of their giant cans of beer. We tried to say no since it was only a three minute ride, but they happily insisted. We met nice people everywhere we went today.

Back on the boat we spent a couple of hours listening to the Catholic mass going on right on the waterfront, complete with the singing of hymns and loud praying. The waterfront around the boat has a few restaurants and even a full casino so we were expecting a bit of noise, but once the church service was over it was totally quiet and we crashed for the night.

Yesterday we took a taxi out to the airport to pick up my mom. She arrived right on time and was happy to see us, especially since that meant she could unload the suitcase full of crap she had hauled around the world for us. We went to the hotel and spent a few hours poolside catching up before heading back to the room for a siesta. Later on we walked around Valetta a little bit and found a nice little place for a Maltese dinner.

august 24 2006 : gozo, malta
The next day we spent exploring Valetta. Valetta was built by the Knights of the Order of St. John back in the 1500 and 1600s. And most of the buildings still appear to be original. It’s a World Heritage site and we couldn’t stop taking pictures of everything as we walked around. It’s a relatively small area though so we were able to cover a lot of ground and see a lot of sites.

At noon every day there is a canon firing at the Saluting Battery overlooking Grand Harbor where our boat is berthed. It’s the best view in the city and the canon blast was pretty cool too. We were hot and sweaty as we walked past the War Museum and thought we’d be able to cool off and get a bit of history in one shot but found the place had no air conditioning. The museum was small but pretty good. In World War II Malta was the most bombed place on earth. The best part of the exhibit were the old pictures showing ships in the harbor getting strafed by low flying German planes, the pictures being taken from high up above the ships and with the beauty of the harbor as a backdrop.

Climbing back up to the top of town we stopped and had drinks at a tiny one table café perched on a sidewalk with stones worn so smooth they are as slick as ice. Back at the top we visited St. John’s Co-Cathedral built in 1578. It’s sort of plain looking on the outside, as far as Catholic Cathedrals go, but inside was a different story. The floor was covered from one end to the other with colorful marble tombs. Also inside was a gigantic painting by Caravaggio titled the Beheading of St. John the Baptist. Pretty amazing and incredibly ornate stuff to find on such a small island in the middle of the Mediterranean.

Today we rented a car and set off to see the island of Gozo just a few miles away. There is a car ferry every hour and by noon we were driving off to explore another island. For some reason we were unprepared for just how small a place this island was. There were quite a few towns/villages, each one with their very own massive cathedral towering over everything. And each town seemed to be built on a plateau so that from each cathedral you could turn in a circle and see another half dozen cathedrals and get a perfect overview of the entire island. We spent a long day checking out just about every inch of Gozo. We climbed through castles, gawked at a pile of rocks that are apparently the Ggantija Temples, hung out in the shade under old windmills in town squares, walked through more cathedrals, and had dinner at a little wine bar overlooking yet another town square. All in all a very nice day.

august 27 2006 : valetta, malta
Our second day in Gozo we headed for the beach. Our hotel had said they had a private beach so we drove down there to check it out. It turned out to be a small concrete platform perched on the cliffs. Not exactly what we had in mind by private beach so we left and headed for the locals beach instead. It was much nicer and we spent pretty much the entire afternoon hanging out there enjoying the sun.

The next morning we made our way back to Malta. The first stop was up to the Red Fort which overlooks the bay. It was nicely restored and had some beautiful views. We then checked out the Mgarr Shelter which is a bomb shelter used during WWII. The shelter was cramped and over two football fields long and is where thousands of people would squeeze in and live for days while the cities outside were getting destroyed. Once again I found the old pictures to be the most interesting part of the display although they didn’t have one picture of what life was like in the underground shelters. For a country with so much history it is obvious that the two year period during WWII when they were under attack is the most important to them and the period for which they are the most proud. We also checked out a couple more churches and then went to the old RAF airfield where most of the buildings have been moved into by local artisans making all sorts of things. There were a bunch of glassblowers, some ceramics, lace makers, woodcarvers, metalworkers, you name it. We did some power shopping there before they all shut down for the day at 2:30.

Ali and I then dragged my mom all the way across the island in search of a Mexican restaurant to try and satisfy our nearly constant taco craving. We were amply rewarded and could hardly move as we headed back to check on the boat which had been neglected the last few days as we reveled in luxury accommodations around the islands.

Today was another relaxing day in Valetta. We wandered the city streets in the morning shopping and people watching before heading back to the hotel to spend the rest of the day poolside. Tonight we went to a little sidewalk restaurant in town that had a big sign out front advertising free beer. And they were serious, they actually brought more beer out before you’d even finished your last one. You’ve got to love what a little healthy competition can do for the consumer. After dinner we walked back up to the gardens overlooking the bay to watch the Sunday fireworks display. Display might be overstating it a bit, there was an occasional firework shot off over the town. We watched about six of them before giving up and calling it a night.

august 29 2006 : catania, sicily, italy
Yesterday morning we saw my mom off at the airport. I have a feeling she is going to need a vacation from her vacation when she gets back home. We kept her on her toes all week in order to see as much as we could. We had a great time and it was nice to be able to explore the islands with her. Back at the boat in the afternoon we gave her a quick wash and made sure the batteries were charged up in order to leave her again. This time we were heading to Italy. We made the decision to leave the boat in Malta and just take the ferry to Italy since we really didn’t plan on spending any time on the boat while we were there anyway, Bum would have just been sitting in an Italian marina instead of a Maltese marina while we traveled inland for a couple of weeks.

We went to bed early since we had to be at the ferry terminal at 3:30 a.m. We reserved a taxi the day before and apparently they aren’t too excited about fares at that time in the morning because they charged us $30 for the twenty minute ride. At the ferry terminal we had to pass through immigration and get our Maltese exit stamp. Unfortunately they hadn’t given us an entrance stamp which caught their eyes and raised a few questions. Eventually they stamped us out though, with the recommendation that next time we tell them if we are planning to leave during our visit. The ferry was four hours. I slept for a good portion, only waking up when the stench of vomit became too strong. We weren’t five minutes out before the tossing began. There are actually employees on these ships whose only duty is to carry around paper towels and seasickness bags. Not many jobs more unrewarding than that one.

By 9:00 we were in Italy. Getting off the ship our passports raised some eyebrows again and we had to wait while they disappeared into a back office for some more intense scrutiny. We have no idea what the problem was but it didn’t take long and we were soon on our way again. The port is right in the heart of the city of Catania so we just walked around for a while before searching out a place to stay. We had one particular place in mind but were having trouble finding it and asked a cop if he could tell us where it was. He didn’t know so he yelled over to two other cops who didn’t have a clue either. So we just continued to wander around and eventually found the place about three blocks away.

After checking in we went back out to walk around the city some more. We found a busy fish and meat market which had some extremely nasty items hanging by hooks, and there was also a regular market. The place was swamped with people buying tonight’s dinner. After trying to get lost in the cities maze of narrow streets we came across a castle just sitting in the middle of a neighborhood. It came complete with a moat and was in pretty amazing condition. By now it was after noon however and that meant it was time to find a table at a café overlooking one of the many piazzas around the city and have our first slice of real Italian pizza. The pizza was okay, but we had some arancini which was excellent. Arancini is a big deep fried breaded rice ball filled with ragù and peas. Sounds weird, but Catania is famous for it. After eating and downing a few Italian brews we went back to the hotel and crashed for a few hours before getting up, going back out, eating more pizza (much better this time and only a buck per huge slice), and having a gelato along with just about every other person in the city.

august 30 2006 : palermo, sicily, italy
The grand plan this morning was to make our way up to Naples by train. We made our way to the ticket office at the train station to try to buy our tickets and were quickly relieved of that notion. When I asked the ticket agent for two tickets to Naples he just looked at me with a blank stare. This wasn’t at all uncommon here in Italy since it seems that only about 1% of the people we’ve spoken to have even a basic grasp of English. We actually prefer it that way as it always makes things much more interesting. But man it has to be hard getting by in the world with only the Italian language to speak.

Anyway, realizing the ticket guy wasn’t going to respond I tried again and this time threw out the word Napoli instead of Naples.  Bingo. “Si, Napoli in Italiano, not Naples.” So he did understand me the first time, he just didn’t like my choice of words. “No possible,” he said. It seems every mainland Italian would be returning home from their Sicilian holiday over the next few days and there was not one seat available for five days. We hadn’t really thought about that possibility beforehand. There are something like 26 trains a day to Messina from where another dozen or so trains make their way across the straits and on up to Naples and Rome. With that many trains daily we didn’t think there’d be much of a problem.

Back outside we mulled over our options. It seemed we might be able to get to Palermo, Sicily and from there we may be able to catch a ferry up to Naples. So we tracked down a phone card and finally a phone booth to give the ferry companies a call. The ferry option would work. Then we decided to see if we might be able to get a train to Palermo instead of the bus. This time we got a slightly more helpful employee who found us a couple of tickets on the long, local train that stopped everywhere for four hours on the little trek across the island. That sounded better than a bus so we booked that. Then Ali thought to ask the guy if we might be able to get a train to Naples from Palermo. “Si, si.” So after a couple of hours of running around and worrying about how we were going to get out of Catania inside of a week we were suddenly on a train headed across Sicily for Palermo where we could hang out for a couple of days before continuing on to Napoli. But before leaving we did find just enough time to grab a slice of pizza. Pizza three times in just 24 hours, you’ve got to love Italy.

The local train actually ranked near the very bottom of our world train list. It was slow, uncomfortable, and to see out the windows you had to put them down, stand up and stick your head out of it. But hey, it’s only four hours and some of the scenery was pretty nice. When we first left Catania we pretty much circled Mount Etna, which at about 10,000 feet is Europe’s largest live volcano and is a constant threat to wipe Catania right off the map. Then across the middle of the island things flattened out for a while before the hills turned into mountains again. All along the way there were old abandoned stone farmhouses. Some still with their red tile roofs but most of them wide open. They were on just about every hill and you could just picture what life used to be like out here before trains and highways.

Finally in Palermo we set out to see some real live Mafia henchmen, or failing that, to just find a hotel to stay at. Like a couple of idiots we trudged all the way across town to the furthest hotel from the train station because it was supposed to be the best budget accommodation in the city. Of course we weren’t the first to think of this and we found the place booked. Back out on the street we now decided to put our phone card to work and call ahead to a couple of other places. Brilliant strategy. Ten minutes later we were checked into a place much closer to the train and the city center and at nearly half the price of the other place. We threw our bags on the bed and headed back out to see the city.

Palermo is a beautiful city in that old, decaying sort of way. It is about 3000 years old and is full of history and full of scaffolding too. Everywhere you look there are rehab projects going on and it really shows. Our hotel is on the corner that marks the exact center of the old city and the four buildings on the corner are all curved to face the center point and their 400 year old facades are covered in marble statues. And just across the street from there is the Fontana Pretoria which is bursting with statues of nude nymphs and is pretty risqué for a fountain that sits in front of a house of God. I thought it was pretty funny that the churchgoers gave it a different name, the Fountain of Shame.

We zigged and zagged through the narrow alley’s of Palermo until we came across this ridiculously tiny taverna. There were a handful of guys standing around outside drinking and we went inside to find a room about 8 feet wide by 15 feet deep with a tiny bar and room for half a dozen people to stand around getting drunk. We ordered up a couple ofgrande Birra Moretti’s and found just enough room on the counter for us to stand and drink them. The great thing about finding the place where locals go to get really sauced is that you are guaranteed the absolute cheapest price on beer anywhere. These were the big bottles that are almost the size of two cans and they cost less than a bottle of Coke. After enjoying our cocktail hour there we walked around town a bit more before settling down for, you guessed it, pizza and gelato. That makes four meals in a row. I’m going to try and set a personal best while I’m here in Italy. It won’t be easy as I set some pretty high marks for myself back in college, but I think I can do it. Ali is already starting to wimp out on me though and is starting to talk about actually having pasta tomorrow.

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