Small Odyssey

Ships log – Day one

N35°33.5′ E15°59.9′

We’re somewhere between Malta and Crete.  Should the timing of arrival not be in our favor (dark of night), we will land in Syros, instead of Crete.  Michael chased two yellow-bellied birds out of the boat before he crashed down to sleep.  Now it’s just me, at it again.  I’m sitting in the captain’s chair watching the gennaker spread against a milky sky.  I’m monitoring the radar screen, our course, and the wind direction.  We’re catching it right on the beam and heading E NE.  It’s a dreary, rainy day, but my spirits are good.  The burnt smell of lentils keeps renourishing the giggle inside of me while we sail along. 

I was trying to make popcorn.  Salty snacks help to curb my seasickness.  A bad case of ‘boat brain’ had me convinced that green lentils were kernels and I microwaved them into a crispy charred mess.  What can I say?  These are the things that happen at 2 am on the high seas.

At least I don’t have scurvy, plague, or any of the other terrible diseases that the Maltese Knights Hospitallers had to deal with.  These guys were the bomb in the 1500s.  They were doctors and nurses who cared for the constant stream of warriors who fought over the walled city of Valletta.  Their best medicine was a wondrous fungus, and patients had to write their will before admission to the ward.  Yikes.  This humanitarian organization still exists today and that’s just one of the tidbits we learned about Malta’s history while we were there.

The Maltese were attacked by the Turks, the French, and the British over the years, but they never gave up easily.  From what I can tell, the invasions have left a proud and unique culture in their wake, as well as limestone walls that are a sight to behold.

We landed in Gozo, where we met Joe, a Maltese New Yorker before we stepped foot on the check-in dock.  Our welcome didn’t end there as we had drinks with his family that night and got the inside scoop on all things Gozo.

In the morning we trekked through rush hour traffic to the Citadella in Victoria. 

The sad history of this beautiful place sticks with me.  The entire population of Gozo, 5,000 people, were killed or put into slavery by the Turks when the Citadella was captured.  I got that feeling.  You know, the feeling you get when you realize that you’re only alive because you weren’t in the place you’re standing in at the wrong time.  Poor people.

Malta wasn’t all about the old cities.  It was also about hiking through fields of wildflowers, anchoring beside cliffs, and eating fresh-picked strawberries.  Who would have thought that a giant rock could have fertile enough farmland to grow the best strawberries that we’ve ever tasted?

Did I mention Malta has rainbow cake and smiling coffee too?

As always, everything’s better with friends to share it with.  The girls, Gerty and Gilli, enjoyed having their picture taken, while Lance, Jenni, Michael, and I bobbed in Rinella Bay.

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Ship log – Day 3

N36°43.1′ E 19°23.1′

This blog post didn’t start out as a ship’s log.  That’s because I forgot what ocean passages are about.  More than anything else, sailing long distances is about time.  We’re still here, in the middle of the Ionian Sea.  Those two birds I mentioned earlier wouldn’t leave us alone for hours.  What kind were they?  Where did they come from?

Without google at our fingertips, it’s hard to find out.  You guys know there’s no internet in the middle of the ocean, right?  We got stuck in the doldrums last night.  What a great word- doldrums.  Boring, bobbing, endless doldrums.  Squalls were littering the horizon and sucking our wind away.  There were no dolphins, whales, or other boats to look at. . . just water.  The wind picked up a little this morning, but it was no more than 7 knots directly behind us.  Gerty can’t sail in that.  But what if we turn upwind and put our new Happy Sail out.  Well, then our girl can sail.  So that’s what we did.  We’re going where the wind takes us and that is to Pilos.

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Ship log  – Day 4

N36°52.09′ E21°38.5′

This morning we arrived at Pilos. . . almost.  We could see it, unobstructed, rising out of the sea. 

After last night’s horror show of an ocean, making landfall was oh so tempting.  Yet we changed our minds, jibed, and set Gerty’s course to Crete, AGAIN. 

Our track on the chart makes us look more like salty morons than salty sailors, but here is the thing- sailboats sail.  Gerty relies on the wind to take us where we want to go.  Ultimately, we want to go to the Cyclades, and based on the forecast that we just downloaded, sailing downwind today is the best way to get there.  Besides, the wave crashing over the deck, rain pelting, tanker-infested environment of last night feels like a lifetime ago.  Now the captain has poled out the jib, wing on wing style, and we’re smooth sailing on a calm sea, under a bright blue sky.

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Ship log – Day 5

N36°15.2′ E24°53.1′

I lied.  We sailed right by Crete.  We’re going to Ios.  It’s the sensible thing to do given that the wind is still blowing us from behind, and that there’s still one more container of chili left to eat.  We’ve showered, cleaned the salt from the windows, took the pole down, and raised the happy sail again.  All remnants of seasickness have washed away on the gentle waves that are pushing us along.  We’ve got our mojo back.  We’re gonna make it to the place in my mind that has always existed somewhere between myth and reality- The Cyclades of Greece.