A Flower in the Ruff

Knidos was a great surprise on our trip.  We had debated taking a bus or car into the ruins from Datca when we were “stranded” there, but when we realized the engine repairs weren’t going to delay us much longer we decided to continue back on the path we had originally mapped out and headed for the end of the Datca peninsula where the Aegean and Mediterranean meet. 

We had planned on anchoring, reading in the book that the place was crawling with tourists and gullets, but there was space available at the small wooden dock and other yachts were docked side to so we pulled in.  We tried to stay towards the end of the dock, but the man running it clearly wanted to be able to fit more boats in so he took the bow line and literally pulled us up the dock into shallower water.  Dad could tell the keel of the boat was in the mud, but figured it wasn’t that much and we tied up.  The dock hand seemed to believe that there was at least 2.5 meters of water under us and that there was plenty of space.

The site itself was a true gem.  The ruins haven’t been thoroughly excavated, but what was there was interesting.  What really made things pop and special were the wild flowers and the view.  Naturally the site was breathtaking.  I cannot imagine visiting during the summer when hordes of tourists come in on the boats to tromp on the paths and rocks in the immense heat… if you are planning on visiting Knidos, do it now. 

This is a photo of us and the boat taken by a nice English couple from a few levels up into the site.  You can see the small dock we were on and how blue the water was coming in.  The dock hand managed to fit a German charter boat and another boat in behind us, essentially trapping us until they departed. 

This sums it up.  Aside from a theater, this was the most excavated area that we saw.  It’s right at the entrance which was about 500 feet from the dock.  The water is actually another harbor that is for small fishing boats only, there is a lot of silt and a tiny opening for boats, and Dad loved the lighthouse on the hill.

There was a sun dial at the end of one of the stair ways that was pretty cool.  This is the first one we have seen since we’ve been exploring all of the rock piles and someone was nice enough to attach a stick to get the full effect.

There were wild flowers blooming everywhere.  I’m not real sure when the city was actually constructed.  The site has pottery pieces that apparently date back to the 14^th century B.C., it was listed as an important power of the archaic world in 7 B.C. and the city turned into a metropolis in 4 B.C..  the bottom line is – it’s old. 

Because of its location, on shipping routes between Egypt, Rhodes, Ephesus and the Greek mainland it was a major port in the 7^th century B.C. when the main city was built by the Dorian Greeks.  The lighthouse is at the end of what used to be an island and was later filled in by land bridging the gap and crating two harbors: one for commercial and one for military use.

There were all kinds of flowers blooming.  It created the greatest atmosphere.  There was the beauty of seeing all the color, the scent of fresh flowers in bloom, and the sound of buzzing as bees went from flower to flower. 

I’m not sure it gets any better than this.  Dad and I just sat on deck when we got back to the boat and took it all in.

I was trying to reproduce a photo in the brochure they give out but the flowers were too overgrown for me to get the right angle.  This was taken through an arch at the small theater.  There was a small on by the base of the ruins and then a big one, which we missed a turn for because we didn’t see it at all, up in the mountains.

We were trying to get a good shot of the boat from the other side of the harbor and on the walk across the beach Dad almost tripped over a column.  It was just lying in the sand as if someone had dropped it and not bothered to pick it up.  An earthquake destroyed a lot of the buildings and there apparently used to be great statues that have been written about in passages regarding Knidos, but nobody knows where they are. 

This is the shot Dad got when he went under the barbed wire fence to get to the ruins on the other side of the harbor.  The boat with a small Greek theater in the background, floating on crystal clear water; Christmas card?

When we got up to leave the next morning, the German charter boat wasn’t quite ready yet.  There are 7 people on that boat and I can imagine it takes awhile for everyone to be ready at the same time.  We got everything else prepared for departure and started the engine as soon as they pulled out.

The plan was to drop the lines and let the wind push us away from the dock and back.  So I dropped the bow line that was holding us on and nothing.  We didn’t budge at all.  As it turned out there was about a 6 inch tide that was out at 9:15am and our boat had run aground – we were stuck in the mud.  We knew it was shallow anyway when the guy pulled us in, but had no idea we were that wedged in.

Dad tried the most logical thing and revved the engine in reverse, but that didn’t do a darn thing.  Two guys started to pull really hard on a line tied to the back cleat and that didn’t do anything.  A third guy came to help and then a small fishing boat that had just come in supplied 4 other men to help pull.  Dad let the boom out over the dock and told the men to lean with all their might on the boom to try and rock the boat off.  They dock hand got nervous because all this accomplished was having our 22 ton steel boat rock against his small wooden dock.  We cleated a line to the dock and ended up wrapping it around the winch drum cranking the boat back inch by inch.  Dad put the boat in reverse and I was cranking away when he told me to get under the dodger, when a man had kicked the cleat on the dock the day before it wiggled and being in the line of it if our boat pulled it off the dock could’ve be deadly.  It took those actions plus the 7 grown men rocking the side of our boat to finally get it out of the mud and in motion. 

Coming from Florida, Dad is used to running aground.  It’s not because he’s a bad sailor, it’s because nothing is deep or kept dredged in Florida.  It’s common knowledge among sailors and people who have sailed the east coast can’t imagine why we would keep out boat there.  I asked Dad how he usually gets out of the mud and he said by putting out an anchor to pull on or just waiting for the tide to come in.  Normally in Florida it’s a sure thing that it’s just pure mud below the keel, in Turkey the worry is always that there is mud and rocks… the bottom of the boat being pushed into rock isn’t a good thing at all.  I learned all of this today and am happy to report that while it wasn’t a good thing, this is the first time the Pipedream has run aground in the Mediterranean Sea, and hopefully the last.