Photo: 697
A gale is the least of our expectations when we leave Elafonissos at 1020 H on the morning of Friday 26 August. It is a very hot day. The weather report is easterly Force 5 (17-21 knots) on the eastern side of the Gulf of Lakonikos between Ak Maleas and Ak Tainaron, fading out to Force 2-3 (11-16 knots) on the western side of the gulf where we are heading for. In hindsight, given our experience with Windfinder weather forecasts, we should probably have added 10 knots to this forecast, but as they have been fairly spot-on lately with their predictions, we did not. In any case, what we are about to experience is due to local conditions and influences and can never be predicted.
Our chosen destination is Yithion (sometimes called Githio) where we plan to leave the boat and visit the famous site of Mystra after an overnight stay.
We have very favourable winds for the first hour or so, but suddenly the wind fills in and we are reefing the genoa (the main is already reefed) and belting across the gulf towards Yithion in white foaming water. Suddenly Pippy is filled with misgivings and suggests we just head off around Ak Tainaron and keep on going towards the west. In her words “I don’t have a good feeling about today.”
Capn Buck thinks nothing of it and we continue on having a “fabulous sail”!
As we cross the gulf where the wind is supposed to be easing, it swings to the north and increases. However we sail into a calmer patch of water further north and are reassured that soon we will be ‘out of it’.
A radio call ahead to Yithion Harbour Authority gives us confirmation that the conditions in the harbour are not excellent, but good, and they do have a place for us, so on we go. By the time we arrive at the entrance to the harbour the wind is up again and we are relieved we will soon be out of it. In spite of giving our name several times over the VHF, the female Radio Operator insists on calling us Lancelot, not Matelot. In we go looking for the promised space only to find the harbour crammed full of small local boats and rusty ‘riff raff’ who have laid moorings for themselves and left no space for visiting yachts. The ‘space’ we are offered is by the harbour entrance, already taking considerable surge from the wind and just not tenable or safe for Matelot. Just like Lancelot we grit our teeth and say a polite thanks but no thanks and turn around and head back into what is now a screaming howling wind.
Our next option is Plitra (back on the eastern side), which promises good shelter, 12 miles away. In no time we are there but the white water at the entrance and the howling gale now appear to come from a different direction, putting us on a lee shore if we sail up the harbour and attempt to anchor. We do not know this harbour, and the holding is not reported in the pilot book to be good. With the afternoon moving on into evening, Pippy makes the call (thank you Capn Buck) and we decide to go back to Elafinisos where we know we will be safe and where we have left from that morning.
It is at this time we hear our first gale warning come over on Channel 16. We are now experiencing gusts of 44 knots and with only a scrap of genoa and no main are moving along at 7.8 knots. But it is the sea, waves standing up on end, with very short troughs in between and coming at us from the port side off the land as we head back south west to Elafonnisos, which causes us most concern. .
The next two hours are really scary and certainly a salutary lesson and experience for us. We are on a beam reach with only a tiny bit of sail out. At times, strangely, there is no wind at all and we have to motor. Then we can see the wind coming across the water at us again and we brace ourselves for the it driving the great huge waves, which stand up straight and break over the top of the boat. Soon we are both soaking wet. Capn Buck fights the helm to stop us from rolling too much and takes wave after wave of horizontal water over his head. At some stage Pippy manages to change into her wet weather trousers and some dry clothes.
The final effort of rounding the point and motoring into our anchorage is when we experience the fiercest conditions. We can see it up ahead as we approach the point but have no option and must go on. Foam is streaking horizontally across the tops of the waves and the sound of the wind is hideous.
Suddenly, although clipped down, the main is threatening to escape from the lazy bag which is unzipping itself in the wind. Capn Buck has to stay at the wheel. Pippy clips herself on to the safety line and goes up to the mast to try to lash it down. Howling sheets of water are hitting the bow and slamming over the boat, and Pippy struggles to get a rope over the boom with her back to the sea, water running down inside her clothing.
At times when we are hit by gusts, Capn Buck has no option but to turn downwind away from our goal, and he comments that he has never seen anything like it … white horizontal streaks of water in a churning caldron, screaming and howling like crazy. The noise of the wind is so loud it feels like it is coming from inside our heads, then some time later once we are around the point and heading back into Elafonisos, Capn Buck has to relinquish the helm because he is frozen and shaking uncontrollably. He needs to go down below, dry off and change into his wet weather gear. It is a haven of peace and normality down below, still warm and comparatively sane!
Now head-to-wind and motoring at 2400 revs Pippy takes the helm. Its freezing cold –unbelievable, but the wind drags all the warmth from the air. We are not there yet!
We claw our way into the Bay. Pippy keeps checking the headland to see if we are moving forward because the waves are still huge and regimental in the way they stand up with incredibly short spaces between them, and the tops blow off in great white streaks. But at least we are not taking them on the side any more. The engine pushes us through and we are encouraged by the anchored yachts we can see up ahead and know it will be fine once we get there.
Closer in, the wind suddenly eases and we are immediately in comparatively flat water. Very soon the anchor goes down and we breathe a huge sigh of relief. There is a big pile of wet clothes in the cockpit and it is 2000H. We have sailed 50 NM at least on this day. Thank you Elafonnisos – you are a beautiful haven.
We have lots of hugs and a very strong ouzo each, then start the tidy up before falling into bed for an early night!
Sorry, no photos on this day, but there were other windy days.... (above and below!)
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