Sailing Adventure Continues

The trip from Preveza to the greater Delphi area was a fun filled 24 hour adventure, that I might boast went off without a hitch.

We left the marina and made it out of the bay without running into any mud flats or anything else that would’ve made things… slower.  Dad kept looking around and imagining the battle of Actium that had taken place there thousands of years ago.  He did some research and learned that Anthony had the man power when he got there to take on Octavian, but he waited too long and by the time he actually decided to fight, over half of his troops had been taken out by malaria so he didn’t really stand a chance.  There wasn’t a whole lot of space in the bay, and it was interesting to think about all of the ramming ships fighting and how that had gone down.

The first real challenge we were going to face was the Levkas Canal.  The canal separates the island of Levkas and the mainland of Greece.  It was cut through the salt marsh and is dredged  to what should be plenty deep for our boat.  We approached from the North end which is described in the Greek Waters Pilot as “hair-raising” for the first time.  The entrance to the canal isn’t easily identified and we had to go around a sand bank to reach it.  There are red cans tied to the rocks that are protruding on the left hand side and a sand bank that is visible in the water on the right.  There was just enough space for our boat to slip through and weave our way towards the bridge that marks the actual entrance.  My job was to sit on the bow of the boat, holding on in case we ran aground (got stuck in the mud) and watch for other ships and things we could’ve run into.  With the bridge timing was everything and I am so impressed with my Dad, we got there literally with 5 minutes to spare.  They “lift” the bridge on the hour and we pushed the engine more than normal, but made it like I said within 5 minutes of it opening.  Now I wish I could describe the bridge more technically, because it was pretty amazing.  Because I lack a technical vocabulary it is going to be what I thought of when I saw it. The bridge is flush with the water to begin with.  It looked like a wall sticking out of the water.  I thought of the big Tupperware bins that have a clasp on either side, or perhaps like a briefcase with a snap on the front… the sides of the bridge actually went up in the air like you would snap something up to lift the lid and then it actually moved so where it was parallel with the land and created an opening for boats.  It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.  We had the right of way, and there was a conga line of boats waiting on the other side to come through.  The canal is for “pedestrian”(not the technical term) boats only so it was a line of sailboats passing by which was really cool.  There was a sort of understood respect and brotherhood on the canal.  Everyone stayed to their side and as you passed the other boat a small wave of the hand or head that spoke louder than words.  It’s a natural reflex to check the flag on the stern of the boat to see where the people are from and appreciate all of the cultures and differences sharing the same waterway.  Dad navigated between red and green poles sticking out of the water, and we had no problems at all.

This is the bridge moving over to the side so we could go through the canal.

This was the bridge moved over to the side.  You can see the boat that was in front of us and the ones waiting on the other side to get through.  Those are the sides of the bridge that up like a clasp...

Once we exited the canal there was a slew of sailboats, which is understood, and then we started seeing the bigger ships.  Lots of cruise ships and freighters.  I think this trip we saw more boats on the water with us than any of the others I have been on.  We of course still took turns napping and were able to read and enjoy the cruise, but those on deck had to be a little more alert than usual. 

Judy picked up a head cold in Italy as an unwanted souvenir and sadly passed it on to Chuck.  He spent most of the day sleeping.  I picked up itchy eyes somewhere in Preveza and was able to get drops from a pharmacy while we were there, but my eyes were starting to itch more and I had the fear that conjunctivitis was right around the corner.  These fears were cast aside though as we continued on our journey and had other matters to attend to.

At around sunset we cooked a decent meal of pork chops, rice, carrots, and Judy made a great salad and then I did the dishes and at around 8:00pm was told to try and get some sleep as night watches began.  Of course falling asleep on cue is never easy and while I slept some, little things kept waking me up or distracting me from a deep sleep.  Little things like Dad turning off the engine when he was actually able to sail.  Little things like hearing “Pipedream” addressed over the radio for the first time ever.  The bridge we were approaching in some time had apparently picked us up on the AIS radar and thought we were a bigger boat than we actually were so he was just checking up on us.  Apparently we were dodging ships that were created quite a wake in the front berth where I was sleeping, and the three of them got to see one of the brightest shooting starts or meteors they had ever seen.  Dad was scared it was a spot light of a much bigger boat saying “I am here to run over you”, but it was just the sky saying hello.  At around 1:30am Dad came down and got me up to come on deck and help watch as we were about an hour and a half away from our next obstacle, the Rion-Andirrion suspension bridge.

The bridge is the longest cable-stayed bright in the world at 2,252m with three navigable channels that glows neon blue at night.  Yachts much call the Rion Traffic 5 miles out in order to obtain permission and to be told which canal to go under.  We had to tell the guy the height of our mast, length of the boat, and how deep we draw.  He then told us to go through the center of the bridge and that we were clear.  Now 5 miles for our boat takes an hour.  The approached seemed like one of the longest hours and then all of a sudden we were almost on top of the thing.  Chuck was standing up to check for traffic and it was a good thing, because there was a ferry that wasn’t visible on our radar going through the center of the bridge about 5 minutes before we got there.  The ferry didn’t even seem to care that we were there and knew it would make it through before we would.  We didn’t have the same confidence.  When there is a 50ft mast on the top of your boat, every time a bridge is involved, so is holding ones breath.  I know it’s overkill but I found myself ducking while looking up to make sure we would clear the top. There was plenty of space and actually looking up was awesome.  The street lights created a glow from the bridge and it was another amazing sight as we slipped under it.  Of course on the other side of the bridge was another ferry crossing from Andirrion to Rion that brought my eyes back to the water, but the moments I could admire the construction and beauty of the bridge were those that I’ll take with me from this trip.

This is a blurry photo of the bridge taken after we made it through.  This is just a small section of it.

After we cleared that it was my turn to stand watch while everyone else went to sleep.  Watch this time was… cold.  I had on my Pipedream sweater and a jacket and was still frosty.  I watched 4 episodes of “Boston Legal” on Dad’s iPod and only had one boat scare.  Right after Chuck went down to bed and Dad was down below setting the course I had been looking around and hadn’t seen anything.  I heard the engine and turned around to look behind me and almost peed myself when a freighter was literally speeding past.  It wasn’t super close, but the canal we were in wasn’t that wide and it seemed to come out of thin air.  It sped past with just two lights showing and it gave me enough adrenaline to stay awake for the 4.5 hours I was on watch alone. 

By the time Judy came up at 7:30am I was ready to crash and wasn’t feeling so hot.  When I got up my nose was stuffed up, my eyes were goopy and I realized I was sick.  We made it to Galaxia, as suggested by Andrew, the guy in Corfu, and even experienced a new docking technique we were initially scared to try.

Basically there is a wall to back into and tie the stern up to.  Instead of bow lines, you let your anchor out to catch and keep the boat in place.  We were apprehensive to try this without a depth sounder and because of our previous backing up experiences, but Dad did it perfectly.  He had the fact that there was almost zero wind and a nice big space to go into, but it was a job well done.  Chuck was in the front letting the anchor out, Dad was at the helm, and we ended up throwing lines to a guy who was walking by with his kids asking him to just ring them around the cleats on land and then I climbed over the railing in the back (petrified it was going to snap off because of its mangled form from the crash into Corfu) and ended up tying everything off properly through the loops on the wall. 

By the time we were secure I felt like I had been hit by a Mac truck and apparently looked it.  Lots of meds and a hot shower and I was back to bed for most of the afternoon.