Setting Sail

Tashi Delek
Mike & Carol Kefford
Fri 7 May 2010 14:37

36:53.84N 27:17.97E

 

We left Marmaris on Friday 7th May and headed towards the Greek island of Simi.  This meant one night at anchor on the way in a small bay we had last visited in November 2008 when we had just collected Tashi Delek from Sunsail and were taking her to Marmaris.  What started as a very gentle, no wind, flat sea, glorious sunshine journey had turned into a stormy, grey, lumpy sea and wearing full oilies horror.  We had spent our final night in this bay and tucked ourselves in with the fishing boats on the principal that the fishermen would know where the best shelter was.  Not only did they know where to shelter but they all came out to help.  A couple took a small boat out with our kedge anchor so that we had two anchors down, they positioned us just so, tied to the jetty and checked all our lines.  All with much smiling and waving and merriment while getting wetter and wetter.  Fantastic.  This time, no fishermen just a beautiful, calm bay; ideal for a first night afloat.

 

We wanted to reach Simi early on so that we could book into Greece and get all the necessary permits to sail.  Very difficult to work out exactly what is required for a Jersey registered Yacht  in EU waters in Greece and we had had a lot of conflicting advice.  Everyone, it seems, has a different experience and does things a different way.  We had learnt that Simi wasn’t as bureaucratic as some other ports of entry and was therefore the favoured choice of the experienced yachtsman.  Mike polished himself up a bit and put long trousers on in order to look like a serious chap and went off to find ‘The Authorities’.  This can be all or some of the following – Harbour Master, Port Police, Customs, Health, Immigration.  He found the Port Police and a young girl who spoke no English but managed to establish that they had run out of the necessary forms and we would need to go to Kos.  He was still given two forms with much stamping and signing and handing over of Euro’s.  They were apparently for the payment of Port Authority dues and a stamped crew list.  Thinking we had therefore paid for our berth for the night we were rapidly disabused of that idea by the chap on the quayside who explained in excellent English that we now needed to pay them for our berth.  In the middle of this Mike had chatted to a chap who has been cruising on the same documents for four years because no-one has ever checked.  As other boats came in we noticed that no-one seemed to head for the Harbour Master so maybe everyone was ignoring whatever system there was.

 

Anyhow, we felt a bit legitimate by this time and set about exploring the charming harbour.  As you can see we were parked pretty much in the street and had to follow the Green Cross Code before stepping off the gang plank in order to avoid being knocked down by the oncoming traffic.

 

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While in Simi we were also introduced to what will be a major factor in our travels round these waters – avoiding ferries, especially in harbours.  Huge vessels shuttle between the islands and squeeze into tiny harbours.  You have to make sure you are tied up far enough away to not only avoid the ferry but avoid the inevitable Tsunami of a wave that follows them in.  Here is the ferry taking up most of the harbour as it backs into Simi.

 

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From Simi we headed back to Turkey and had a couple of days in a little harbour called Palamut.  A very pretty place we had visited a couple of years ago with Sue and Grant and enjoyed one of the best meals of our travels.  A delightful, eccentric lady called Semra has converted the old (and very small) Customs House.  She grows all her own herbs and veg organically and is very passionate about the meat and fish she chooses.  Her staff are very enthusiastic and seem to experiment constantly with new dishes and drinks.  While chatting to her during the day we were brought very fancy drinks with much foliage and whipped cream and then enjoyed a tasting of the barman’s new mulberry and amaretto cocktail.  The view from her wonderfully comfy chairs is very pretty and it is easy to stay chatting for hours.

 

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But two days meant the decks were scrubbed (thick layer of dark red sand stuck on while we were in Simi), the laundry was done and we were ready for the next leg towards Kos.

 

A very quiet start turned into a very windy(Carol’s first experience  and quite long day to Kos.   We radio’d the marina, booked a berth and they sent the pilot boat to guide us in.  Just as we were edging in to our slot the pilot started shouting at us for not letting them know we had come from Turkey and they weren’t a port of entry (they are) and a whole bunch of other stuff we weren’t paying attention to because we were going backwards, picking up a mooring line, wriggling ourselves in between other boats and throwing two lines back to people on the dock.   Once settled we gathered that we had to stay on the boat and wait for the Port Police.  Blimey!

 

Within two minutes the Port Police arrived.  One very young lady in full police kit and a young man in his jeans.  A charming pair who came aboard and filled in lots more forms then told us we needed to go to ‘The Authorities’ at the ferry port for our papers, then take them back to the police.  We both put our long trousers on and smartened ourselves up and walked to the port.  A ferry had just come in so there was a long queue of people having their duty-free checked and no sign of where we needed to go.  So we walked round the outside of the building, rattled some locked doors and found ourselves talking to someone through the fence who told us to wait.  A cheerful chap appeared and in we went through the back gate to his office.  Passports checked, photographs laughed at, passports and crew list photocopied and much banter ensued – that was Immigration.  Then through some more unmarked doors to another cheerful and moustachioed gentleman who was apparently Customs.  He started off explaining that he could give us a permit for a month, we chatted some more, he looked at the boat documents, we told him we were here for the summer and asked what we needed to do to extend our permits, he vanished, he came back with a thick booklet, he filled it in very carefully (lots of carbon paper), we chatted some more, he tore pages out, he vanished, he came back, he handed us more stamped, signed papers and said he had decided we could stay until December!  He showed us out and with big smiles and much thanking and good wishes we parted.  Contrary to all the horror stories we had heard it couldn’t have been simpler and the people involved couldn’t have been more helpful.

 

Back to Maria the police lady who did more stamping and signing and that seemed to be it.  She spoke superb English so we asked what each piece of paper was for and what we needed to do from now on when we arrive in a new harbour.  We expected several more forms and a lot more Euro’s each time but apparently not; 80 cents (75p) to pay for port taxes and that is it.  We suspect that it won’t be quite that simple but we will see.