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A hand-drawn map by Charles Fawcett, tracing his 2010 cruise in the Mediterranean.
By Charles Fawcett
Editor's Note: Charles Fawcett is a retired master mariner, a member of CYC and the former manager of the club.
This was my sixth year cruising the Med. Over the years, Avalon, a Bavaria 44 built in 2002, had taken us up the east coast of Spain, on to the Balearic Islands and then down the west coast of Italy. Later we crossed the Adriatic to cruise Montenegro and Croatia, and then around Greece over the next three years. This time the first part of the cruise was to cover the Ionean Sea and then make our way north to the Adriatic for the second two weeks.
I flew in to Athens (dodging volcanic ash and riots) with Avalon's owner, David, and his son in law Nigel. We rented a car and drove 400 kilometers east over the Corinthian Canal to the Peloponnese Peninsula and through Corinth to Patra before crossing back to the mainland. We then worked our way north to the Aktio marina (Preveza) where Avalon had spent the winter. We arrived late at night and were lucky to find the local taverna still open and doing a brisk business with yachtsmen from throughout Europe preparing their boats for the season.
Launching Avalon at Aktio.
After two busy days, we launched, and made our way south in very strong headwinds to the Levka canal and draw bridge. A flotilla of charter yachts was waiting for the bridge to open, all sheltering as best they could from winds in a very small and exposed basin. One managed to go aground on the lee shore. Eventually we got through and tied up at Levka for the night to let the Scirocco's 40-knot gusts blow out.
The following day was beautiful. We washed the boat free of all the fine N. African desert sand and made our way south through the canal. We had a great sail past the islands of Sparta and Scorpios, where the Onassis family once lived although now it's a park. We anchored for the night at Meganisi and had our first swim of the cruise.
For the next three days we criss-crossed the gulf, sailing wherever the wind would take us, anchoring at the smaller islands for swimming and lunch and overnighting at Frikes, (Ithaca) and then Eufimas, (Kefallinia) where we were forced to spend 36 hours because of a heavy WNW gale. There were about ten boats in port, all "Med Moored" with bows or sterns to the pier, and beam onto the wind, so everyone was scrambling to get out every windward line they could and get a second anchor out to windward.
The island of Kefallinia is infamous for the Germans slaughtering the entire Italian troop garrison in 1943 for failing to punish the Greeks for sinking a German warship off the coast. The movie "Captain Corelli's Mandolin" about the incident was made here.
Frikes, Ithaca.
While checking the engine in Eufimas, we found a hairline crack in the bellhousing so made our way gingerly back to Levka as soon as the weather cleared, where the local Volvo dealer luckily had not one but two spares in stock! Two guys came down and replaced the bellhousing in two hours!
Next we went north to the island of Paxoi to meet up with friends who had just bought a bigger boat - a Beneteau 50. They were sailing down to Athens, through the Corinthian Canal and eventually on to Turkey. It was interesting to discuss some of the limitations of larger boats particularly when there is just a two-person crew.
From Paxoi we made our way slowly north to Corfu where Nigel was to leave us and John (a sailing friend from Seattle and old Avalon hand) was to join us for the next two weeks.
Corfu, despite being a beautiful walled port city, was not a happy place for us; John had just joined when he got some tragic news and had to return to Seattle immediately. Also that night we suffered from "Gale Number Three", a vicious area of low pressure swept up from Tunisia right over the Ionean Sea and up to the Balkans. Several yachts went missing locally and in the Adriatic.
Sometimes the forecasts in the Med. reflect what's actually happening at the time rather than a picture of the future! Obviously, this can be extremely dangerous! We were moored stern first to the breakwater and soon had waves washing over the top. The odd one would creep even further and fill our cockpit. The motion was terrible seesawing fore and aft as the stern lines took the tension and rolling madly as a swell built and crept around the end of the breakwater. We adjusted our lines to suit our neighbors in order not to have masts and gear collide as we rolled around. Luckily the low was fast-moving and the wind followed it around giving us more shelter. At last, twelve hours later, we were able to actually get ashore to pick up our laundry and have a meal.
We were now down to two crew, David and I, and we decided that we should take advantage of the current south-westerlies to make for Brindisi, Italy, (some 90 nautical miles across the Adriatic) before crossing again to the N.E. to Montenegro, when we expected the wind to go around to the N.W. We left Corfu early and within an hour were sitting on our ear, with gusts of 40 knots so we put into a delightful and sheltered little bay: Stefanos in the N.E. corner of Corfu Island, just across the straits from Albania. We tied up to a taverna jetty with about a foot under the keel and the bow virtually over the beach. This is a customary, and the pay off is that you use their taverna as much as possible by drinking plenty of Mythos (the local beer) and eating from their menu.
Tied up at Stefanos.
By this time we were getting a little stir crazy from the weather situation. A 15-knot forecast would suddenly be 30 knots. Anyway the next morning everything was in our favor or so we thought. The wind had gone around more to the north and so we decided to skip Brindisi and head north for the 165-mile voyage to Budva in Montenegro laying a course keeping just outside 12 miles off the coast of Albania. People say good and bad things about Albania so we decided to err on the side of caution.
All went well and we cleared Corfu island sailing close hauled NNW when suddenly the wind came up again and intensified and low and behold the forecast followed the wind and threatened more! We had two choices: run back to Stefanos or bear off slightly and make for the little island of Erikousa. The pilot book said that there was a small port, with good shelter from the north in the S.W. corner. The port proved practically impossible to find until we were virtually on top of it.
Erikousa was to be our home for three days. Luckily we found space alongside the small wharf and the fisherman had warned us to put plenty of lines out. Apart from the port full of sheltering fishing vessels the island was an island. We could walk around in an hour; talk to the sheep or visit the taverna/general store to eat and watch the same fishermen play cards. Two Albanians and their wives seemed to run all the commerce on the island. The policeman doubled as the mailman. His girlfriend was the schoolteacher with a school of three pupils and the ferry called twice a week, but was cancelled while we were there because of the weather.
By now we were getting a little desperate…would this weather never end? Finally the forecast was good so I walked up to the bluff at sunrise to talk to the sheep and more importantly look north to see what the sea was doing. Fewer whitecaps! So we decided to make a run for Budva and left within the hour.
The forecast was NW winds with confused seas. It was certainly lumpy as we sailed north. But eventually the wind came around and headed us so we left the main up and motored. The sea became an oily calm and the dolphins came out to play as we enjoyed lunch and our last cans of Mythos!
By nightfall we were doing 7 knots under power and sail with an ETA of 0730 but the forecast was talking of thunderstorms and north easterlies rising to 35knots nearer the coast. We divided the night into three-hour watches and worked our way through fishing boats and local traffic.
I went off watch at 0100, but by 0230 I got the feeling that all was not well. We started to bounce around and heel….rainsqualls! And by 0300 I had had enough and joined David in the cockpit as we reefed and unreefed both the main and the jib. The wind was everywhere and unfortunately not much moon. We fortified ourselves with coffee and a large Scotch. By 0530 as we approached the coast and high mountains surrounding it the katabatic winds kicked in and by 0600 we had all sail in and were motoring into a very short sharp uncomfortable sea on the starboard bow with winds gusting at 40 knots as we approached Budva.
The only comment we got from a security guard as we docked was that customs wouldn't open for another hour and where was our "Q" and Montenegro courtesy flag? We hastily hoisted them and had another coffee with an even larger Scotch before we examined David's forward cabin, which was soaking from a leaking seam between the hull and deck joint. The boat must have worked really hard and maybe Avalon was telling David something about moving on to a newer boat!
Suddenly Montenegro produced the summer weather we had come for. We explored the inland sea of Kotor, including the small villages dotted around, the shipyards, the historic WW11 submarine bases hewn out of and hidden by the hillsides. Tivat is an old Navy base that is being developed by a Canadian with a marina for 600 yachts (including mega-yachts), tax free fuel and over 630 condos. It was a quarter complete and being built at a rapid pace. The European press claims that it will be the Nice of the future. The last time we were here four years ago Tivat was an off limits military installation.
In Perast, we went alongside the quay adjoining a restaurant just as about 100 French tourists were sitting down to lunch. Their tour guide tried to shoo us away as were spoiling the view! However, we could not get off as the wind kept blowing us on, so there we would have to stay until the tourists charter boat departed. The tour guide eventually relented providing we turned off the motor! After their lunch we had a lot of female company on board all curious about life aboard a " un petit bateau." Eventually they departed and we had made friends for life! Not bad for two scruffy old yachties.
We entered customs for Croatia in Cavtat, a small and attractive tourist town just south of Dubrovnik, and spent the last few days cruising the small islands in the neighborhood going as far north as Ston, once the most important town in the region as it produced salt in the local flats. We managed to put Avalon aground temporarily in the canal approaching the old port.
Finally we entered Dubrovnik, had a beer or two in the old city square to pay tribute to the ladies strutting past in their finery and then had a good meal and wine in a favorite restaurant. We took a bus back to the marina and I flew out the next morning feeling a little hung over and sad.