Town Mooring
“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I hope someday you’ll join us. And the world will live as one.” ―John Lennon
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We caught up with our friends on Exuberant today. We met them in Frenchboro on Long Island. They told us it’s one of they favorite stops in Maine and after spending the afternoon hiking some of its trails, eating lobster and watching a beautiful sunset, I think we can say it’s one of ours too.
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Seal Bay – Anchorage
“Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It’s a way of understanding it.”―Lloyd Alexander
The Internet is iffy in this area of Maine, so blog posts may be delayed. We had a long day Friday and went back to an anchorage we really liked the first time we were up this way. This time is wasn’t as impressive. I’m not sure it was us, the timing of the tide or the crowd that was there, but it just didn’t seem as pretty as the first time we were here, but we still enjoyed our evening.
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Next stop is the island of Nisos Elafonisos where we find a superb anchorage with sparkling clear waters on the NW side called Nisis Elli. We’re the only boat anchored here and we take the RHIB ashore to enjoy a swim off the sandy beach, followed by cheese, olives and cold shandy. This is not a taverna-lined beachfront but a deserted bay with just a few holiday apartments back from the stunning beach.
This is a bay on the south side of Nisos Elafonisos
From here it’s only about 10 miles to the island of Kithera, lying off the south-eastern coast of Peloponnisos and one of the most unspoiled of all Greek islands.
Its main port is Kapsali at the southern tip of the island – a beautiful bay to anchor in, surrounded by rugged cliffs and overlooked by the stunning hilltop fortress. The bay is exposed to the south so a bit rolly, but our flopper-stoppers do their job in reducing the effect of the swell.
Envoy at anchor with fortress behind
Kapsali harbour from the fortress with Envoy and just one other boat anchored
Ashore the old buildings are mostly painted with traditional whitewash contrasted with blue shutters, the seafront being lined with small tavernas. It’s still very quiet with only three or four other boats anchored here during our several day stop.
Kapsali’s taverna-lined foreshore
We liked these attractive steps and shrubbery
The bay has a small wharf and this is where most visiting boats want to go – why I don’t know as it’s much nicer to be anchored out in the bay. With the summer season getting under way we’re starting to see some very large planing motor vessels in the 20-30 metre range, of course all with about four to six uniform-clad crew. Some of these are seriously large vessels and it’s amusing to see them want to anchor right in close as if they are a small weekend cruiser.
Surely the wharf wasn’t intended for boats of this size
Many Greeks from Kithera emigrated to Australia and as we wander around we hear the accents of many of them back here enjoying holidays.
We take a taxi up the steep winding road to the fortress and chora (hilltop village) for some exploration and stunning views.
The Chora viewed from the fortress
Built on a steep rocky promontory the fortress appears impregnable
Later we do some shopping at a small superette and find the owner to be extremely generous. It’s a hot day so he gives us free bottles of cold water, provides various cheeses for us to taste, gives me a free cold beer and then a healthy discount off the bill.
Our generous superette owner
My ears are slightly sore from constant exposure to seawater so we visit the small local hospital, finding it very modern and seemingly well-equipped. It’s under-staffed but the doctor and nurse we meet are very courteous and helpful, the doctor complaining that she’s rostered for 12 hours a day. Treatment is free but we have to pay for the medications provided.
We move on to anchor off the village of Avemolana which was new to us and a thoroughly delightful spot. This is not only sheltered from the consistent northerly winds but free from any swell, although there are wakes from fishing boats coming in and out of their harbour at all hours of day and night. As an aside fishing boats don’t make any concession to anchored visiting boats and pass close by making uncomfortable wakes. I guess they’ve been out for hours tending nets and keen to get home.
Ashore is a rocky cove where locals swim in crystal clear water from several small boat jetties and this whole scene is overlooked by several atmospheric tavernas.
Envoy is in distant background from this great inlet
Envoy anchored off Avemolana
Even the goats enjoy Avemolana’s waters
There is no respite in the northerly wind and after two nights at Avemolana we move on in a 20 knot headwind and 1.5-2 metre head seas to Neapolis on the mainland. Unfortunately the steep seas and Envoy’s pitching motion tosses our herb garden overboard as we’d left it on the transom where it had so far safely sat for hundreds of miles. Diane had worked hard to get these mint, oregano and thyme plants into great shape so we’re a bit sad about this.
Just outside Dhiakofti is the wreck of the cargo ship Nordland, and as author Rod Heikell says it looks like her skipper attempted to perch her atop the islet.
Neapolis is on the eastern side of a large bay nearly four miles across called Ormos Vatika. As we approach land in late afternoon the seas gradually reduce until they diminish into wavelets and we anchor in a relatively flat sea. Half an hour later though the wind changes to the south and a fetch kicks in. Fortunately it only lasts until sunset and then the wind reverts to its forecast north and all is peaceful for the night.
Next day first priority is to replace our herb garden and from three different shops we find a planter, soil, and all three herbs. Now the planter is secured to the transom so it can’t fall overboard.
At this stage we’ve had over 20 knot northerlies for several days and they’re forecast to continue. In fact this is the “Meltemi” wind, notorious in the Aegean Sea that we’re now bordering and is not what we need when we have a 60 mile open sea crossing to make to Milos Island soon. The Meltemi often lasts for a week or longer keeping many cruising boats holed up in safe anchorages. It’s caused by high pressure areas in the eastern Aegean (with winds circling anti-clockwise) combining with low pressure areas to the west (with winds circling clockwise) to produce generally Beaufort Force 5-7 winds. Although this is not a particularly strong wind by New Zealand standards the resulting sea conditions are much more severe here than with the same wind level at home. I’m not sure why this is so, but all cruisers comment on the fact that while the waves are not overly large at typically two metres they are close together, steep and breaking.
We decide to position ourselves at Monemvasia, being about the closest mainland point to Milos, so we can make the crossing when the weather is suitable.
Sam Hitches Harbour is as beautiful as Little Bay, and also has a waterfall at the head. It seems like it’s a rare anchorage here that doesn’t have a waterfall. Newfoundland is exactly our kind of cruising grounds: solitude with amazing natural scenery. Except for a few local-looking boats docked at Harbour Breton, we’ve not…
The Good Lord looked down at the carnage of WWII, saw the world in a terrible state, inhumanity, despair, the loss of all things of beauty. He saw the invention of weapons that could eventually end his beloved earth. He knew he had to do something. What would bring joy to the world in the coming decades, bring peace and love? Music! So he waved his magical hand over the huge array of souls about to descend on earth in the coming baby boom and sprinkled the genius of music the likes of which the world had never seen. The divine spirit decried “Let there be songs to fill the air”.
That spark landed in England and as the babies grew so came forth the Beatles, the Stones, Eric Clapton and a flood of others. As the USA was the first to feel the confidence to reproduce after the war, the US was blessed with the spark of the divine music, rock and roll the most. In the South it was Elvis, in the East it was Dylan, Joan Baez, and the folk revival. In the West, where the Great Spirit clearly has preference it was the Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane, the Beach Boys and too many to list all from that spark of music. Some of that magic dust even blew north to Seattle, bringing us the genius of Jimmy Hendrix. This spark eventually created the music of the sixties, undeniably the greatest decade of music ever.
The Almighty music fan heard his music and said it was good. He said let the message of peace and music ring in one place for all to hear and remember. He sent the spark to two young visionaries who would become obsessed with the idea of bringing the music to one place and Woodstock was born.
Forty six years ago this past weekend the divine muse saw his best work, the best music the world would ever see. He saw the results of his post war idea to bring peace and love to the world as 400,000 young people gathered in harmony. He even tossed in some rain to test his theory. The best of the best came, The Who, Credence Clearwater Revival, and Ten Years After. some were introduced at the event, the very young Santana captured the audience in his first major performance. Sha Na Na was a club act that one of the producers liked, both are still making music. The starts aligned the night Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young took the stage. Each an accomplished musician in their own rites but the combination proved to be a mystical phenomenon.
The event started with so many mishaps, roads clogged, electrical disasters and over whelming crowds. Richie Heavens was a long time icon in the folk world but unknown to most. Other performers could or would not take the stage first, so Richie without his usual backup band went on. He “sang every song that truck driver knew” and after two hours was exhausted and out of material. There was no one to follow him yet so they pushed him back on the stage. Sweat dripping from his African tunic, he gazed at the massive crowd and the word “freedom” came to mind. He began a riff that the band picked up and simply sang “freedom freedom” adding some words form an old blues song. That performance became the symbol of Woodstock and Richie Heavens became a national hero.
The small rural conservative farm community became flooded with long haired, bead wearing, love chanting youth. There was not nearly enough food to feed them or places for them to stay. The spark of love overcame their fears as they embraced the groups with food and kindness. Many gave testimony to how courteous and polite the festival goers behaved.
The entire festival hinged on one man, Max Yeager. Multi-generational dairy farmer no more likely to embrace pot smoking long haired kids than any other rural farmer, he took the gamble. Then he became the champion of the hippies because the town tried to tell him what to do with his property and he said no. For ever more we will know where “Max Yeager’s Farm” is.
So the Great Rocker in the sky looked down and smiled, the spark he had planted year earlier in baby Janis, Pete, Arlo, Grace and Jerry had worked. Rock and Roll music brought peace and love to his shattered world. Seeing how wonderful the music was the Almighty wanted to dance on a cloud too. It was just after Woodstock that he returned Jimi, and Janis to God’s band. Many would follow and now having lived full lives more are returning to jam by the Pearly Gates. All leave us with the divine gift they were given, the music! So on this anniversary of Woodstock, do something “Woodstockish” meet a new friend, share something, and dance in the rain.
Authors notes: As Furthur and crew will be tied up safely thru the rainy/typhoon season there will not be much nautical to talk about. I will take this opportunity to cover some other ideas. For those who seek the cruising info only we will be back at it in December, new adventures and new crew. For now, I do hope you enjoy the new path. Oh and on this particular blog I use a non-gender “he”, we all know the Goddess reigns. The pictures may be copyright covered.
Make Your Dream Your Story
Capt. Brian Calvert
M/Y Furthur
www.furthuradventures.com
The Good Lord looked down at the carnage of WWII, saw the world in a terrible state, inhumanity, despair, the loss of all things of beauty. He saw the invention of weapons that could eventually end his beloved earth. He knew he had to do something. What would bring joy to the world in the coming decades, bring peace and love? Music! So he waved his magical hand over the huge array of souls about to descend on earth in the coming baby boom and sprinkled the genius of music the likes of which the…
Robinhood Marine Center
“He is richest who is content with the least, for content is the wealth of nature.” ―Socrates
Some days we have to get everyday life things done…we can’t play everyday. Stan’s phone died last week, so he ordered a new one and had it delivered to Robinhood Marine Center in Riggs Cove.
CONTINUE READING HERE…»
The aft deck of the FPB 78 is a study in flexibility. The engine room air vent also serves as …Read More
お試しやカウンセリングがなく、即行で申込書を出す脱毛エステは断ることをおすすめします。何はともかく無料カウンセ…
Nothing opens the window to a people’s heart or gives a clearer insight into a culture than their children and their rites of passage. I have been fortunate to have been very immersed in children of many cultures, always an enlightening experience. I have also been blessed with being invited, usually the only foreigner to be, to weddings in several countries. There is no more revealing look into any culture than a wedding and no more fun can be had.
We have taken a week to visit Donna’s family during the Fiesta week. Each small village in the Philippines hosts such a fiesta, it is the hallmark of their lives. This village celebrates Saint Ignacio, the patron saint, with a week of fun and merriment. The epicenter of the event is the basketball court/stage/church right next to the Escartin family home. The family is lived in this spot for many generations and are held in high regard. Like most large Filipino families, relatives are abundant. Donna has 27 first cousins on one side. Those that are not related seem to adopt the family so the home is always bustling. I have been welcomed into this home with open arms.
The Fiesta has several events; I have written about the Miss Gay Pageant already. There is dancing nightly, one night for seniors, love dancing with Donna’s 86-year-old granny. There is an Alumni night, one of the most important. Each class from the high school has a table, they decorate and offer food and drinks at each table. I looked for a 1970 table but only found them back to 1985 haha.. We brought Papa a brand new pair of dancing shoes just for this night.
Each day there is a procession, and the biggest one comes from the school. Donna was up early preparing Piam’s attire, every mother was. I have seen that no one on earth loves their children more than the Filipinos and they have a lot of them to love. Families of 6-9 are average, many bigger. Each kid is a treasure and you can see it at the school. I have been picking Piam up most days after school. The kids come out in their neat clean uniforms, smiles beaming to meet all the parents, also gleaming with big grins. All the worries of adult life seem to vanish at this juncture. I would say to all my American adult friends if you ever have a bout with depression, loneliness or the pressures of life pile too high, get on a plane, go to a small Filipino village and hang out as the kids are picked up from school. This will be far more therapeutic than all the shrinks and all the drugs in the land, cheaper too! Oh and an old fat white guy (only one within miles) on a motorcycle watching this all with a tear in his eye is not immediately arrested hahaha. They all seemed to understand.
So kids marched, Ladyboys promenaded, old folks polkaed and the Fiesta went on. This year we had a special treat, attending local wedding, one of Donna’s classmates was the bride. There is nothing bigger in the life of a Filipino than the day they get married. Unlike the Western world they only get one shot at it, here divorce is virtually impossible. Given the economic realities of the area the wedding was opulent, clearly well planned and spectacular. Once again I am the only foreigner and I am welcomed with open arms, one guy in the procession handed me a nice camera so I got to take pictures all day.
It was the look on the faces of the older and youngest of the crowd that spoke to me. An old wrinkled, rugged, eyes of the ages, small framed man was obviously the father of the bride. His tie not quite right and baggy dress suit, and diamond bright loving eyes cut to the soul. He had clearly seen a tough life, raised a big family and was reaping the rewards of his years.
This being a strictly Catholic area the nuptials were held in a new, work in progress Catholic Church. The architecture was classic Catholic/Filipino fusion, cement with sheet metal roof in a classic semicircle with Roman type arches defining the entrances. Inside it was all “the Church” mammoth statue of Christ on the Cross, this time with brown skin and black hair as it should be.
I was told this was to be a simple wedding and guests were limited as was the budget. This caused some stir in the village as the long standing tradition is everyone is invited and all weddings become a community event. Donna’s mama was invited but none of the sisters so she stayed home in protest. Given this dynamic I was a bit apprehensive but I was met with open arms and big smiles. Now limited here does not mean a few friends and a preacher, oh no. There were at least ten bride’s maids and ushers in matching attire, three ring bearers, and a full on choir. I would love to see a wedding without the “limitations”.
Back to the house, preparations for the big day coming and the pig. Each family raises a pig for the fiesta, it is fed well and lives in a nice field, all is good until the fiesta comes. Everyone enjoys the fiesta but the pig, albeit the guest of honor. As much as I want to immerse myself in all things Filipino, I passed on the pig slaughter, ok I’m a wimp. The Pig blood is coveted; Donna often orders a gross soup made of it. To get the blood just right it has to be taken while the pig is alive, more bad news for the pig. The critter of course protests this procedure, loud and long. This day of the pig had a new twist, the power was out and it was raining hard, no power no freezer. All the families waited, good news for the pig. Soon the power came back on and you could hear the pigs screaming all around the village, byby pigs.
Now my many vegan friends would be justifiably appalled by this seemingly barbaric ritual. Even I who like my pork winced. One has to look at the big picture, this pig, who I petted the day before, led a life of peace and happiness, wild spirit. He was not raised in a pig factory, denied daylight or companionship. He was not force fed a ghastly array of chemicals, anti-biotics or hormones. He lived in proverbial hog heaven then went to the real one and I enjoyed the pork adobo. Thanks Mr. Pig.
So Fiesta over and life went back to normal, we packed the bike and headed home. All this leaving me grateful for the experience, beautiful ladyboys, blushing brides, dancing with Grandma, playing patty cake with a dozen kids, all gleaming and screaming “one more time, Tito Brian, one more time”.
Make Your Dream Your Story
Capt. Brian Calvert
M/Y Furthur
www.furthuradventures.com
