Nisos Kithnos - Ormos Aylos Ioannis 37:23.8N 24:28.0E

Sue & Alan
Mon 23 May 2016 11:59
We were up few times during the night (before last). Firstly, whilst on hook with long-line ashore the seabed rejected our faithful hook. We noticed just as darkness came and had no choice other than to let the long-line go and pick-up thy hook. Then, in complete darkness, proceeded to put hook back into dirt, much closer to the opposing shoreline in the hope we would not attract as much weed and get the hook to set firmly. Everything seemed ticketeeboo on that score so we recovered our long-line and we settled down to eat, drink and watch another 2 episodes of Game of Thrones (we're getting into it now). Up few times overnight, when we heard rain and thunder and yep.... lightening too. Also when we heard the wind gust more angrily. As expected, during the night the wind continued to blow fiercely at times and veer from SE to SW and finally to NW during the early hours. By 6 o'clock our wind instrument (measuring wind-speed and direction 23m above our heads) showed N'ly winds. Me thinks "That's good. At least the wind's blowing us off the shoreline - most of the force being taken by our long-line and not our hook (anchor & chain) for a change. Could even feel the draft blowing up our stern and into our cockpit and saloon. At 9 o'clock me thinks "That's strange, two other yachts at anchor (swinging) were facing W. When I looked at the disturbance on the water it became obvious - what we were experiencing at sea-level is not same as wind instrument up top. We seemed to be holding fine on hook and long-line so left things be. JUst after 10 o'clock, we were enjoying cuppa tea in saloon, reading, when heard unexpected 'clunk'. The dirt on the sea-bed had been won-over by the weed and our faithful hook had slipped. The 'clunk' became a 'clunk, clunk' because we were touching rock! Our reaction was more commendable than our untimely watch-keeping. I had the engine on in a jiffy and long-line released whilst Sue was taking-up anchor chain. We didn't even need to talk because instinctively we did what was needed. We put the hook back in dirt where we would be safe whilst I recovered our long-line. What a job, the shoreline now being alive with sloppy, foamy seawater. Survived the long-line recovery and we both decided we no longer liked the place (Loutron) so sailed down the coast 6NM and re-anchored Aylos Ioannis. The only visiting yacht, adorable place and completely safe - lonesome and happy. Bacon, tomatoes & egg time. Just brill, except for an untimely incident.
We we in the saloon reading our Kindles and it's half past three. Sue's nodded off and me thinks "I can hear goats somewhere?" Head goes just high enough to look out side window towards nearby hillside, which is more than 100m away. "Wouldn't be able to hear them in this wind?" so neck and shoulders are stretched-up a little. Looking through the washboard hatch I could just make-out top of a mast and now knew those goats are actually clanking halyards on an approaching yacht. As I enter the cockpit (quick as a flash) I'm calling to Sue "You better come up hear and see this." It's a stunner, a giant ketch version of our Discovery 55. Much bigger, maybe 80 ft or so. Same colours and like-for-like all-round appearance, just bigger!
I says "Hello" to the bloke on the bow, seemingly about to drop their hook and indicate our hook is up there so there's too little room for them to position themselves further into the bay up wind of us. The wind is on our stbd side and we're not going anywhere because we're attached to the chain and t'other end of our chain is attached to our hook and our hook is embedded in a good patch of dirt. The encroaching yacht is on our port side. The skipper doesn't do anything to move away - despite the bloke on the bow screaming for him to go astern. Meanwhile the wind blows 25kn or so and is taking over control of the now intruding yacht. The skipper doesn't seem to know what needs doing or has a grudge with his bloke on their bow. The bloke on their bow tries to use two feet (either side of our bow-roller) to fend them off Ticketeeboo's bow. I'm not going near because I don't wanna end-up like Wayne did trying to keep a drifting yacht off Hitrapia few years ago. Clunk! Bang! Clunk! Ooch! One very expensive yacht with damage to their teak toe-rail and deck. Ticketeeboo's pulpit the defensive culprit. Keeping in mind we're the only yacht on hook in a massive bay, more than a mile wide & couple miles long, beggers belief why the plonker wanted to put their yacht so close anyway.
An hour later when they finally succeeded to anchor themselves in dirt without dragging I firstly attempted to call on C16 (no reply). We have them on AIS so we know who they are "OPHIRA V", their unique MMSI 256782000 and CallSign 9HB4546, their length 79ft, registered Valetta, Malta.
Over the next few hours we attempted voice calls on C16, VHF DSC calls and MF/HF DSC calls. No reply. WE thought their skipper might think about getting in their RIB and visiting. Maybe to explain? Maybe to see what damage they might have inflicted on us? No one came. This morning at 8 o'clock we circled their yacht and no one appeared. Just like they could be hiding from a rent collector? I will be reporting the incident as a collision to the Malta Registry and we'll see what turns-up. There's plenty other ways to contact because they have a wealthy internet presence as a charter yacht.
We're now underway heading towards Nisos Idhra for a calm, uneventful overnight........ the type we prefer (please).

Unprovoked Attack - by this big thing "OPHIRA V" ........... and we are not amused.