A solo trip from the Saronic Gulf to the Ionian threw up all sorts of interesting challenges as Sam Jefferson relates
I am not someone who is drawn to conflict; be that in relationships, friendships or simple encounters in the street, I will do all I can to back away from trouble. The same is true when it comes to sailing: in general, I pick my weather and location to ensure that by and large I have a tranquil time. A voyage from Kilada in Greece’s Saronic Gulf around to Ithaca in the Ionian in August therefore seemed to fit with this general principle. I could not have been more wrong. During this five day trip I consistently felt like I was in a big fight and that frequently I was on the receiving end of a pretty severe beating handed out by the elements.
Before getting started, it’s probably best to give a bit of background to this trip; after eight fairly happy years of ownership I decided it was time to move on from my 28ft Morecambe Bay Prawner Black Joke. My reasons were numerous but boiled down as follows; most of my sailing for the last four years has been in the Med and generally in breezes of between 5-15kts. In these conditions my boat was epically slow, only perking up in about 20kts of wind – at which point I was generally thinking it looked a bit lively out and waited for better weather. I settled on a Jeanneau Selection 37, an 80’s racer/cruiser conceived for Le Tour de la France a la Voile – for those who have long memories. This might seem an obscure choice but the boat has an absurd sail area/displacement, pointing to fine light weather performance. It’s also surprisingly comfortable down below and is definitely a liveable space. I found a boat that was reasonably well cared for and managed to beat the owner down on price – largely due to one factor – the boat was in Greece and I live in France. Still, I consoled myself with the fact that I didn’t really need the boat in France until next spring and I decided that it would be best to leave the boat in Lefkas and then make the return trip next spring.
The boat was based in Kilada, a lovely port some way to the west of Athens near Porto Heli, Napflio and the island of Spetses. The village is sleepy and set in a well protected bay which provides a superb anchorage. Indeed, some yachts swing to the hook here year round and I must admit I was tempted to keep the boat there and explore the area fully before heading off next summer. Yet memories of the Ionian, where I had
