3 Proas, Balkan Shipyards

 

    The time is 04:40, A storm is heading south down the Adriatic, it's the 30th of August 2010. At these moments a 20 year old dream is coming true.
  Heavily reefed and flying east, the wind is powerful approaching 30 knots. The moon sheds a ray of light through the thick cloud above, as they move swiftly to the right, south bound. The night is dark, the sea is strong, I'm on the tiller. We're surfing down short steep Adriatic swell, a land locked wave, very different to the broad shoulder wave, of the Atlantic the summer before... Suddenly Baby Mana races ahead, I turn, a look aft reveals the wall we're surfing down. probably 7, maybe 8 knots I think to my self... I pull hard on the tiller, her barn door stern hung rudder takes her bow off, preventing a broach. The wave passes, she slows to 5, it's all good....
  Jenia joins me with 2 cups of hot tea, I'm wet, the wind is cold. A hot beverage is welcome, right hand on the tiller, the left holding the hot cup, I surprise myself, sipping fast on the hot liquid, I manage to drink almost all of it, except for what spilt on me....
  The moon shows it's self, lighting the way, patches of white foam glow like cats eyes on a road.... It's clear to us the conditions are rough. We've been sailing for several hours by now, with no power. Masthead light is off, the red navigation light over the compass is off, The GPS like all the rest asks for just a little, 12 volts and a few milliamps.... But tonight there's none aboard.
  Total darkness Cumulunimbus cloud above, and a storm heading our way... 90 degrees east, Italy Greece bound. No GPS, no lights, but it's all clear, waves pushing east, wind from the north. More then that we don't need, on course, port tack on a beam reach, the sea from behind, the wind from the left... In the morning the Greek island, Othonoi, will be dead ahead over the horizon. A life long dream, as a child I always dreamt of cruising the Greek isles on my own yacht, today 20 year later the dream is  coming true.

  We left England on the summer of 2009 aboard a tiny yacht, 6 meters and 70 centimeters. An old strong English yacht born in the good old days.
  I remember it was February 2009, I just got paid 2000 Euro for a playground I built. A restaurant in Varna on the black sea, placed the order. For a couple of months with a friend, we built a huge cargo ship, to it we mounted swings, a slide , a ship bridge, a huge ship wheel, a yellow crane with a cabin, we painted it in all the colours of the rainbow, we built it outdoors in a Bulgarian Balkan winter. I will never forget the cold, in freezing temperatures of between minus 10 to minus 20, the cold just goes through you, as a ray of light goes through a glass window...

"Ice Breaker" from Balkan ShipYards.

  An evening out with friends in the pub, becomes a major stepping stone that will completely change my life.... In a casual conversation with a complete stranger, I learn about ebay.co.uk while he speaks about the new truck he just bought from England. I was interested so he explained how ebay works. The next day I was on the site, It didn't take long before I found a yacht I fancied, but she had a problem with her paperwork. I didn't give up, a couple days later I came across an add that said "1976 Kestrel 22, single owner, ready to go". I emailed the owner and asked if he could send more photos. He replied, the next 2 days I couldn't get off the computer, I went over the Photos dozens of times, zooming in on every corner, searching for damage, any damage.... Water damage, cracks, rigging issues, signs of neglect... I found almost nothing! I read every forum on the net about the Kestrel. At around midnight it happened, together with Jenia we decided to buy her. She had a starting bid of 1750 British Pounds, her auction was coming close to its end and she still had no bidders. We decide to bid 1800 just to be on the safe side. I fill in the information and hold the mouse, watching the countdown.... 1 minute to go! I keep my cool, at around 30 seconds to closing time, I click on the mouse, the next 30 seconds lasted a lifetime... A cold sweat covers me, my heart beating faster and faster.... I won the bid! I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.........

"Baby Mana" a Kestrel 22, a true lady!

I have a yacht! But in England, I am not a skipper and have no proof of competence. Born in South Africa, grew up on the Med in Ashkelon a small town on the south end of Israel. The sea was my life, surfing was our way of life. Sailing small dinghies was always a ton of fun! And that was it.

  It's still dark, we're alone at sea, the wind is building, her tiller is fighting... I'm tired, I decide to reef her main even more. I head up and pull on the 10 mm double braid, the sail rolls up into the mast, as simple as that. I go back onto a beam reach, the shape of the in mast reefing main is far from perfect. The down side of roller furlings, ease of use has a price to pay...
  We power on effortlessly, our baby thanks us for the last reef. I grab my flashlight and shine it over her compass, the white light is blinding, the compass shows we're flying east between 80 to 90 degrees, all good. Next year we will buy you a new battery baby, I think to my self, this year there was just no money to spare.
  Dawn is soon to follow, I don't expect to see the sunrise, though I know the gods will decorate the heavens in an array of colours, shapes and tones. The strong northerly will push all this beauty, and in the flat screen before us, the clouds will be the stars, the wind the director, and the sun in charge of the lighting department, I trust it that in every split second, every star will be lit and decorated with endless tones of colour. A degree of precision that nothing can match...
  In the flat screen before us, the stars like rapids in a river, will tumble, turn, rise and fall in a perfect synchrony, the highest form of natural harmony. Down below the waves will rise up, as if attempting to join the sensation, a purple red light will cover the sea, and you, you are exactly in the middle, for all this beauty is just for you!

  On the end of April 2009, after 2 flights and a 2 hour drive from London to Poole, I touched the dream for the first time... A tiny yacht, we sat with the owner sipping on a cup of tea, while I bombard him with questions. I was so surprised to see a yacht, that was 2 years younger then me, yet still in much better condition. A double V-berth in her bow, a proper sea head aft of that, at mid ship 2 small berths and a galley to the sides of the companionway.

Her saloon, more then enough...

Her galley, always hit the spot! 

  Tony started her 6 horse diesel, and she left her pontoon for the last time. She had been part of this family for the past 33 years, she was sad to leave, but she understood. For she knew, the only permanent thing is change...
  Tony grew up with her, she was "Dads boat", during the summer holidays they would cross the channel and sail to France. "Having her, made me the happiest boy in the world" he suddenly said as he looked me dead in the eye... The penny dropped, he finally understood, today, it's over! Tony a young Dad to two beautiful girls, inherited her from his late Dad 8 years ago, but between a young family and his job, she became a liability. A chilly day in the bay, finally sailing her, all canvas aloft, immediately I grab her tiller, her sheets, for as of tomorrow Tony will be gone and the only captain she will have will be me. the time has come! it's now or never... An hour later we tied her up in her new marina, a firm handshake, a look in the eye, cut the deal. Tony  left and the journey finally began...

  We spent a rainy month of may in Poole, we took her out every day, I was loaded with theoretical information and armed with 2 sailing books I read many times before. Theory had to become practice. The first day we took her out, I crashed into the pontoon on my return, even learning how to stop her took me 2 or 3 days... I remember the first times maneuvering her between yachts that were worth millions, made my hair stand on end...
  I quickly learned how to tie her, sail her, how to check depths, I learned to use tide tables, I went over every single bolt on her, as I studied her inside out. At sea, a simple problem could sink a ship. A true sailor understands, that once his ship is gone, he's probably next on the list... Know your ship! And stay with it, for it's your best chance to survive.
  My wife Jenia that cant even swim, trusted me blindfoldedly, with no skipper license and no experience, we crossed the channel. No insurance company agreed to insure such a yacht with such a captain! Specially once they heard we were heading for Greece... The English Channel, the Bay of Biscay, the Med with it's ever changing conditions and powerful winds, where paradise can turn to hell in a blink of an eye, where waves are like walls and strong winds like wolves, hiding in every corner... In the Med sailing into an ambush, and getting hit hard, can become a daily routine...

  The English Channel was our hands on sailing school, a proper sailing course packed into just a few days. Strong current in every direction, and a crazy tidal range I never imagined could even exist! These waters, forced me to do my homework before every sail. I would sit for hours with the charts and the  almanac, so many details!!! Tides, currents, rocks, hazards and sunken ships scattered on the chart like pebbles on a beach... I never dreamt I would sail such waters, classic navigation, a chart, a compass, tide tables, current charts and loads of adrenaline... The satisfaction of sailing these waters drew me further and further. "Take the risk or loose the chance", would probably be the best way to put it... We took chances, we went through narrow passages, we sailed over many hazards after assessing each one, carefully calculating tides and depths. A crazy place! North Brittany, with a tidal range of up to 12 meters, forces you to take every detail into account, therefor, the difference between make or break, all depends on the the place, the date and the time...

  West France, the Atlantic, the Bay of Biscay... A stretch of water where many ships met their maker, a grave yard! Here, the whole Atlantic ocean funnels down from the north west onto Europe. The might of the North Atlantic, after thousands of open sea miles, it crashes down onto hard rock.
  A black sky behind us, closing in fast! suddenly it all just happened... In only a few minutes paradise turns to hell, we get hit hard. The wind above builds to a near gail force. Below the waves teach us, the most important lesson a sailor can learn, never underestimate the power of the sea! Respect mother nature or she will kill you.
  We're flying south, broad reaching all canvas aloft, no preventer lashed to the boom. As the waves throw us in all directions, as I'm fighting to hold course.... BAM! an accidental jibe throws the main over to starboard, her reinforced main sheet block comes down in pieces and lands in the cockpit. The boom, almost kills me as it passes only a few centimeters above my head. The main is way out leaning against the shrouds, flogging aggressively. I call jenia, I tell her to point us to windward, I pull on the reefing line like there's no tomorrow, the boom above is out of control, swaying side to side, the main disappears into the mast. We turn onto a beam reach, I yank upward on the Genoa's sheet, it flies... The wind grabs the heavy canvas, it flapps aggressively, the whole rig shudders as it pumps the head stay...
I pull on the 6 mm polyester reefing line, I leave just a tiny triangle high above the bow. We go onto a run, flying south east, jenia steers, I collect the main sheet that's still dragging in the sea, I tie the boom a mid ship. We're under control, running before the seas, heavily reefed, I take the tiller.
  A look at the chart, tells me 3 hours to Brest, a look at my watch tells me to never trust weather forecasts again! This morning, in the bay, the neighbours with all the gadgets told me, "Gail force warning, after midnight." the time is not even 12:00.
  The Atlantic of 2009 was a challenge, for 6 weeks we cruised the french isles. We made many friends at sea, I felt how a dream is coming true... I always believed dreams came true, in my life they usually did. But this time, this was it, a life long dream that finally materialized, all my life I waited, I never gave up! Eventually the gods give in and you win, it all boils down to who gives up first....

  By mid summer we were broke, with only 1000 Euro, we sailed from England to a small town in west France. Two and a half months at sea, the English Channel and the Bay of Biscay. I couldn't go on with no money. We've come a long way with almost nothing! In every bay, in every Marina, we always stood out, being the smallest and definitely the strangest... But we proved the point, it's not money that makes dreams come true, but you do. Money is a tool that dreamers will acquire if they stay focused on their dreams....
  We earned respect among the big boys. The most popular question was: " With that, from England!?" Suddenly, "You probably know what you're doing, if you made it this far..." Said an English guy puffing on a fat cigar, while he relaxes on his modern 60 foot racer cruiser. Yea, we made it! it wasn't easy, I made a few big mistakes, that luckily we got out of unharmed... Life taught me to not fear mistakes, but to use them as stepping stones on the way to perfection. 

  It was July 2009 when we arrived at La Tremblade, a small town to the north of the Gironde estuary. There we took our baby out and put her on the hard, we prepared her for a long winter. We had to borrow money to buy bus tickets back to Bulgaria. Sitting in a bus for 36 hours was a terrible experience I wish no one has to go through....
  Summer, Bulgaria, time to work, to pay back debts, to try and save as much as possible for the next summer. I was disappointed, I couldn't see the full half of the cup... I thought only about how I wanted to go further, I prayed to find an odd job for a week or two, then with the fresh cash to sail on. That never happened, now looking back I know, things happen at the right time... We must except that, foolish stubbornness could end in a great loss. We all know that at war it's all or nothing... If one takes on mother nature, he will loose. In the future I will learn to appreciate this break, time to think, to understand and to work on the mistakes I made.
  Luckily the savior of my broken spirit was "Balkan Pirate". For 2 weeks I joined the Tryavna wood carving festival, chiseling away into hard walnut, under the big apple trees of the Tryavna wood carving museum. Water was replaced with beer, a ton of fun, the museum visitors would come by to watch us work... Mental therapy that was much needed. Finally, becoming the best sculpture of the summer boosted my spirit sky high!

Balkan pirate, he must be real! The eye patch, the wooden leg, the canon on the stern, the flag...
Walnut on a Lynden canoe, from Balkan ShipYards.

  So it was, for the next 10 months, I will work, save up, pay debts... But above all I focused on my weak points, sitting daily for hours in front of a computer and learning. I focused on Navigation, aerodynamics, hydrodynamics, weather, safety, rules at sea and more....

  On the 15th of June 2010 with jenia we land in Paris. A train ride brought us to a near by town, not far from La Tranblade. Pascual picked us up, he drove us to his beautiful home in rural France. We enjoyed the evening with him and Therese, her cooking was superb, above all, the ingredients all came from their garden, the wine from the neighbour..... Life is what you make it, I guess...........
  The next day he drove us to our baby. I was so happy to see her, it was so good to be home..... We loved her so much, together for the next 2 weeks, we turned her into an empire, we went over everything, not skipping even the smallest bolt! Finally our baby was perfect.
  The plan was simple, get out into the Atlantic, sail south then enter the Gironde, a powerful Estuary that flows deep into France... Sail down it till Bordeaux, then, the next day enter the VNF, the french canal system, it will take us over France, south bound to the Mediterranean sea.

She gets so excited, as she see's the boat trailer approaching her...  Just cant wait to get back into her element!
Baby Mana, La Tremblade 2010.

  We finally set sail on the 29th of June 2010, we waited exactly 2 weeks for this day. It's a spring tide, meaning, this morning at 07:36 the sun, the moon and mother earth, will all be inline promising us maximum water depth. Last night we anchored 2 miles from the spot, the sea was calm, the sky was huge, the night was perfect!
  I longed for this moment, finally the time has come. Now, 06:15 no wind, we approach by motor, nothing in the world could take my binoculars away, a mistake this morning is out of the question! The isle D'oleron to the right, the mainland to the left. This narrow passage has a history full of grief, many boats were lost here. The sandy bottom of this narrow channel, changes from year to year. A small mistake and you run aground, if it's an ebb tide, you're loosing depth, as the water beneath you rushes west into the Atlantic. The currents get stronger as they flow faster, now you're stuck! Each and every second that goes by turns bad to worse! Eventually in the fast flow and the shallow depth, the waves get bigger and bigger... Waves can support only half their height above the surface, before they break. Meaning as depths decrease, waves rise. Comes a point when they can't support their upper half which has risen above sea level. " What goes up, must come down", it's plain physics. They break, crumbling and tumbling down into a white foam of aerated water, releasing turbulent kinetic energy. Once that happens, as a vessel is helplessly laying on her side... The waves, like hammers of a blacksmith pound her harder and harder, exactly the way he strikes the red hot metal on his cast iron anvil.... Eventually she will break!
  5 knots, compass bearing 300 the first buoy is 50 meters ahead, we leave it to starboard. The red buoys are not small, still, without my binoculars I doubt I would see them... We pass the fist buoy, not far to the south the waves are a beautiful morning swell, nice vertical shoulders rising to a rippling lip before they go over to create a stunning tube, then, it's over white water crashing onto land... I locate the next buoy, my handheld compass reads a bearing of 245 degrees, at 06:41 we pass it, again a nun, we leave it to starboard. 2 down, 2 to go, the third is dead ahead, the waves, now are close by I can almost touch them.....
  It's all good we're in the channel, lots of water under us. A cursed place, with the binoculars round my neck and a compass in my hand, I search for the hazards in all directions... The north exit is much safer, but rounding the island to the north would take us 2 days, from here 2 hours. the locals told me "the four buoys, you start exactly 1 hour before high tide, if you run aground, you still have one hour of tide left. It will raise you another 60 cm, once you break loose just keep going... But, if you cant locate the next buoy, think carefully where you went wrong....." At 06:53 we pass the third buoy, at 07:10 we pass the fourth, we're out! The Atlantic, today it's calm, we keep motoring, there's no wind, Once the sun warms the land it will blow again. I send an SMS message to Pascual and Therese, they swore that if they don't hear from us by 08:00, they will call the coast guard and tell them to look for us in the south exit!!! Good friends, local sailors, but they never  went through the south exit.....

Running in.... To the Gironde.

  For the next 2 hours we sailed west, at 09:00 we turned south, we held her on 180 degrees for the next 2 hours. Now to the east, compass reading 85 degrees, the ebb is in it's fourth hour, flowing west, on the bow. A bumpy ride very uncomfortable, we give it all we got sail and motor... By 13:00 the flood replaces the ebb, it gets us from behind and we fly in... The Gironde, here the buoys look like skyscrapers, nuns to port, cans to starboard, as simple as that, just like a mere walk in the park....

The Gironde, heading south, almost the french canal system.
The battle ship? It's on our side.....

 The gironde, a powerful piece of water dominated by strong currents. Here a small displacement cruiser like Baby Mana, can make headway only 6 hours every 6 hours. Meaning, take the flood and fly in for 6 hours, then tie up in a marina for the next 6 hours, waiting patiently for the ebb to pass. As soon as the next flood kicks in, untie her and ride it once again for the next 6 hours... Vessels exiting heading for the Atlantic, will do the opposite, That's the whole trick. For the next 2 days we head south, south east, deep into the land locked estuary, 6 knot currents and heavy traffic is the way of the Gironde, cooperate and fly with it at 12 knots! Otherwise just stay home!!

  Finally we enter The VNF, the french canal system, a huge lock with high concrete walls closes behind us, water gushes in as we rise above sea level... The first in my life, with many more to follow.

Castets, our first lock, it lifts us high above sea level, into the high altitudes...
Baby Mana adopted to the thin air in a wink! What a girl...

  Baby Mana's mast is lashed on deck, we took it down in the previous marina. The guys did a good job, they live off this service, they've seen it all... These guys know rigs! thousands of masts have been dropped and raised here, Baby Mana didn't feel a thing and the operation was over. The boat before us that just raised it's mast, heading for the Atlantic, gave us their old wooden framing that held their mast on deck. I fine tune the timber, to fit her snug and I lash it all up. We spent the afternoon with them sharing experiences, drinking wine, the next day they head north as we head south

  We entered the VNF at Castets, our destination is Sete on the Med. We travelled south for 12 days, at first we headed uphill till Toulouse, then the amazing Midi Canal took us back down to sea level. crossing France by boat overland, was an old dream. It was 2003, when I left Germany on a second hand bicycle, I bought for 60 Euro. With no charts and little money to my name, I rode along the Rhine heading to Amsterdam. Many small wineries along the way, offered fine white wine, I found the cool refreshing wine, a much needed inspiration to keep turning pedals thousands and thousands of times...

The Rhine, the wine... Was divine...  But watching the barges steam up and down stream
truly amazed me, those guys can drive boats!!! Summer 2003.

 I began wondering about the inspirational beverage, when a German on the side of the road asks "Where you heading?" I answer, "...on the Rhine all the way to Amsterdam." With a confused grin he replied "this is the Mussel, and you're heading to France, Turn back, go back about 70 km to get back to the Rhine..." Since I believe that going forward is always better then going back... I answered "Where was I heading? you asked. Well, now that I know, I will tell you. I'm riding the Mussel all the way to France!" He burst out laughing, as I rode on........

  Thousands of land miles went by under my 2 wheels, riding from job to job, riding beside rivers and canals. Countless vessels went by, tiny boats to huge steel ships, all received my undivided attention. 7 years later, I find my self going down the same waterways I rode down years ago... The silence, the nature, the tiny villages... Time stops, it  almost goes back... Is this science? or is it fiction....

The Mussel 2003. These ones are live aboards...

This one, on the other hand  is hard at work!!!

  Sailing just cant get any stranger.... You stop on the side, jump off, tie her to a tree... You walk into town, the fresh produce, the cheese, the wines, the smell of fresh baked bread... a cup of coffee in the village square, on a pebble road... Stone walls, old oak beams, small colourful windows... Perfect harmony to the smallest detail, a present look into the past, that makes one think about the future...

A lock on the VNF, almost full any moment the gate will open, and we will move on...

...Moving on, our new Honda 5, elegantly replaced the heavy inboard diesel.
Now with much more space on board... It's true! On a small sailboat, outboards rule!!!

Sete the Mediterranean, south France. A vessel paradise... A series of canals divides the city, lifting bridges, the city is decorated by thousands of boats... Here we trade narrow calm and peaceful water for salt, waves and currents. We trade fuel for wind, we trade certainty for uncertainty....

  I'm happy! I missed the sea, I missed the sunsets, the sunrises, But above all I missed the wind, the sounds, the horizon.... The unknown..........

  Time is short, the list is long... We waist no time and get to it. I stepped her mast and went over the whole boat. I check every bolt! She's so strong! I think to my self while I turn her bronze turnbuckles as I tighten down her rig. Running from starboard to port, pulling on the shrouds, feeling for equal tension, eye balling up the mast keeping it straight. With her main halyard I check the mast is plumb, again bouncing around port to starboard pulling her halyard down onto the chain plates, using it as a tape measure , an indicator, showing me masthead is in  her centre between her gunnels.

  Finally she was ready, we set sail and leave Sete on the 20th of July 2010. The goal: simple, have a good time! Make it to Greece! The challenge: not easy, a spartan boat, a touch small, no gadgets, a dead battery and about 1000 Euro that must last for over 2 months... The plan, we sail, just cant afford fuel! We buy only charts and food. Marina fees, mooring buoys are simply out of the question.

  We set sail and head east, the rugged french coast offers many bays and anchorages. The Med of south France offers a rainbow of ever changing weather and wind conditions.... Home of the Mistral, a cold and dry wind that spills off the Alps into the Gulf of Lion. A french sailor asks "Do you know what is the Mistral?" Then he goes on and answers, "5 knots to 40 knots in a second! blue skies and a gale force wind that came from nowhere...."

  And so it was, the third evening in the Med, Baby Mana gently rolling on her anchor... A small bay open to the north west, her CQR firmly dug in, a beer a swim, Things cant get any better. Late in the afternoon the wind builds, waves pushed by the north westerly tighten up her all chain rode... All the other boats left, we're alone.... I pull out my 15 lbs Danforth anchor, I jump in the water, I lay the anchor with it's 6 meter chain on a life jacket, now, swim! I swim ahead about 60 degrees to the one side of her bow. Jenia pays out the three strand nylon rode as she's standing on the bow, she shouts, "That's it". I flip the life jacket over, and watch the anchor go for the sea bed. "Now pull" I shout back, she pulls as I watch it dig in. 

  Back on board, I pay out all the chain we have, 35 meters of good old heavy chain, we're in 5 meters of water. Baby Mana falls back... Jenia after setting the secondary anchor coiled the three strand neatly on deck, the bitter end is cleated. Now, as I pay out the heavy main rode, I watch the nylon rode freely go back into the sea. I adjust the tension of the two, I seek equal tension on both rodes, finally, I cleat the chain, the nylon too and watch, as one tightens one slackens, then vise versa.... Perfect balance, Baby Mana relaxes and pulls gently back on the two hooks. I hold up my compass and take some bearings I write them down in my log book, it's getting dark, and rough....

  A sleepless night went by... The waves rocked and rolled us effortlessly all night long, it was my first Mistral and I didn't even know it. 

 The next morning at 06:00, we get the hell out of that death trap. We motor east and find a big bay facing south. We go in, again 2 hooks off the bow, by noon the wind is howling.... A RIB comes into the bay, powered by a herd of hundreds of horses. I call them, they come by. "Weather?" I ask, The captain answers "Tomorrow afternoon a strong Mistral, it's better you keep going east." My local friend shows me the recommended bay on the chart, and they leave.

  At 07:00 the next day we leave, A strong north westerly puts us on a broad reach as we head due east. By 08:00 things started getting out of control, I passed our bay without recognising it. When I understood we need to head back, I never imagined the sea will give up in this war....

  Baby Mana fought to windward against the elements for over an hour, we made it! A very wet ride against steep waves and strong winds gets us close to the huge cliffs rising from the sea. Grey rock becomes our best friend, as it rises several meters above us, we come as close as possible and begin to motor. Now protected by the rock face, I motor slowly to the east looking for the bay. I never expected it to look like this, a narrow opening in the vertical wall leads into a tiny local port. Only small boats, many fishing boats and a single yacht! We tie up, Port La Redonne, salty wet I jump onto the concrete quay and head over to the harbour master. An elderly guy sitting by his desk, looks up at me and says "We're full!" before I had the chance to say "but..." he went on and said "you're tied up on the fisherman's quay, speak to them."

  Later on they begin to arrive, one by one they look at this elderly racer cruiser, flying a red ensign off her stern, tied med mooring, bow to their quay... These are true seamen, the Mistral runs in their vanes... Our baby, was smaller then the smallest of their boats. then, suddenly, they pop the question, "from England with that!?" I'm surprised, these hard people, living off this harsh environment , give me the feeling of equality... "Yes sir!" I reply... That was enough!!! No problem... we were very welcome,

They shared all they had with us, tools, power, water.... For real sailors know, at sea, sharing equals

survival, giving equals receiving....

  For the next 5 days the wind didn't stop, gale force winds from the north and white seas to the south.... eventually, once the Mistral died down, we bought them all a bottle of wine, we left a bottle on each fishing boat, finally we head over to the harbour master. The elderly french gentleman, happened to be the owner of the big racer cruiser, that lay off the mooring ball in the middle of the port. 

  He receives his bottle of wine with gratitude and says, "give my regards to my friends the whales, when you see them...." We saw them!!! I never believed I would see whales in the Med! I didn't even know there where any in the Med!

  Baby Mana with all canvas aloft, reaching at hull speed, doing her best to not disturb these animals. In return they put on a tail slapping show, accompanied with geysers rocketing up from their blowholes. We're on course, they knew we where coming , peacefully waiting to hear from their friend the harbour master. We pass about 200 meters away and keep going. Mixed feeling fill my mind, excitement and happiness.... But I feel sad too, as I think of these amazing animals and many others, that payed with their lives, because of the way we run the world.....

  A week I will never forget, a gale sent us to a port I would have never seen, introduced us to people we would have never met, nor will we ever forget! The salt of the land, it was our honour!! Finally on exit, the whales were solid proof that good can always get better, and, that better could always become perfect........

Baby Mana, close reaching, in perfect trim, perfect conditions...
It's these days we long for, and it's these days we always seem to forget.... 

   We pushed on east, 40 hours to Corsica. The west side of the french isle offers protected bays, the water has an inviting deep blue colour.... The hot sun, the cool water, the red rock..... All these we will never forget, we will be back! 

   East to Italy, after north Europe, it feels like we've landed on another planet... Pure Mediterranean, shouting, pushing, here they speak with their hands, beautiful people, good food, and tons of heat and rubbish everywhere... We head south, bay to bay, a sea of powerboats, the italian macho and his beauty in a bikini....

  On the 23.08.10 we passed the strait of Messina, A narrow channel that divides Sicily from Europe. The strait has a strong current, running ether north or south. A quick look at high tide time in Gibraltar, and a simple calculation, will reveal the best time to start the passage... A thrilling sail, as we fly south at dawn... We come into Reggio De Calabria  a huge port, run by the italian navy, we tie up in the yacht club and all hell breaks loose!
  The tree of us get impounded by the italian navy. The italian navel officer asks for passports, boat papers, and insurance. "No insurance? Captain! Move your boat to there, and come with me! Captain." He replied in a straight face, after I shrugged my shoulders when I said "No insurance..."
  Life taught me that you're in trouble, once you've entered an official building of some sort, and an official person of some sort says "Sit here!" Your passports are gone, boat papers too. People walk by, you're invisible, others sitting behind glass windows in front of computers, ironed white uniforms walking in and out... Time goes by, we wait, time to think, to imagine, how far can this really go???
  Finally our new friend comes back. A young guy, late twenties, short and chubby... His uniform, like sheet metal, not a crease to be found! He hands us our passports, orders us to go back to the boat and stay there! He goes on and says, " in Italy insurance is compulsory! Don't move the boat!"
  We go back to Baby Mana, even more confused, now, what's next??? The hours go by, morning turnes to noon, we're low on cash, we don't understand Italian, no one is being helpful, my mind is racing between what can happen? and what can I do......
  I decide to play along and act stupid, I start up our Honda and untie her, Baby Mana backs out of her pontoon and we head out of the yacht club. I turn left and head into the big commercial port. At the far end to the south, a few big ships, loading and unloading goods. I enter and and keep to the left, the north end of the big basin. The naval tower is about 300 meters to the north. Behind us due west, is the exit, open sea...... Tomorrow morning, an hour before dawn we go for it! under the cover of darkness, with all navigation lights off, we slip out and gun it south.....
  The port is big, a high concrete quay decorated with old rusty ship bollards. An ugly swell enters from the north west, I don't like it, the quay is high, a ship passing could generate a wave that could slam us against the concrete, I look around as I search for the most protected corner....
  A white car driving fast on the quay blows it's horn, I'm pottering around 200 meters away... I look over, sitting in the front, beside the driver, waving me down like a madman, is my best friend of the day.... waving and shouting calling me over. I head over and prepare to tie up in the north east corner. The water is boiling, the Messina strait is pouring in, big waves crash into the hard concrete. Baby Mana is rising, falling, rocking and rolling, her fenders almost bursting....
  He gets out of the car and shouts at me "captain, tie the boat! You have no insurance, moving this boat is illegal!" I'm on the quay, battling to tie her, adjusting the fenders... She's all over the place, big waves coming directly at her violently throwing her up, then dropping her down.... Behind me, a voice keeps shouting at me in English with a heavy Italian accent... I loose it! I turn, I look him in the eye and shout! "I'm tying my boat, when I'm done I will speak to you." He understood and let me finish the task. Once done he shouts "you're trying to escape! I told you don't move the boat! stay here." they leave.
  Nothing to do but prey... Impounded in a foreign land in a foreign language. Later that afternoon two high ranked officers come over, I look up, they stand above the high quay looking speechless down at me... In their look, as if I saw them asking "from England with that?" I ask "problem?" They answer "no problem." And leave. Shortly after my new friend shows up, something must have happened I think... With a polite tone he asks me to come with him, I follow him back into the base. Again "Sit here captain." He leaves... Half an hour later, he comes back and hands me a piece of paper, in English it said "Tomorrow at 05:00 you leave Italy, in Italy insurance is compulsory!" Till this day, I still wonder which one of my gods came to my rescue this time...

Back on the road, as free as a bird...
These days, we never forget!!!

       
   

We stayed in Italy for one more week, but we kept far away from all marinas and big ports. Still, with all due respect to the Italians, they have much to improve compared to the English and the French. Their buoys are small and hard to identify, their charts were out dated and not very accurate, still that didn't really matter, since in all the shops, the chart we always needed, "Had just run out..."

  At 13 hundred hours on the 30th of August 2010, we entered the south bay of our first Greek island. 2 anchors off the bow, to the south the sea was white, we're safe. Othonoi a small island, a few restaurants and tons of silence....
  Three days later favourable weather urges us to keep on, we sail east. The Greek isles, a true paradise... You get up in the morning, a look at the chart, a glimpse at the sky, smoking my pipe sipping on my coffee, I wonder, today where to??? It makes no difference, in every direction there's something, and it's all good...

Baby Mana spreads her wings and flies.......
Greece 2010.

  On the 15.09.10 we arrived in Oropos, a small town to the north of Athens. Baby Mana proved herself exceptionally, exceeding our expectations, she never gave up and never let us down. Jenia and I love her so much, for half a year she was our home, we laughed together and feared together, but above all we made a dream come true together.
  Now, she will rest on the hard till next spring, at Zaharias many yachts will spend the winter, she will share stories with her big sisters. But this year she will tell while they will listen, she will tell them all about the baby sister, that sailed from England to Greece.

                                                            To Be CONTINUED........

                                                             Rael Dobkins.
                                              President of "Balkan Shipyards."

  P.S.  Please SUBSCRIBE to this blog and join us as we turn writing into a career.

          Please SHARE this blog and help us turn writing into a career...

          Join Balkan Shipyards on youtube and watch us change the future....

         Pacific Proa Crystal Clear, from Balkan Shipyards on her maiden sail, the video in the link below.

         https://youtu.be/4yAm2QgKc1c

Thanks and Take care....

Keep shunting,
Balkan Shipyards.