Spring in Samos

It was a good idea at the time!
My brother and his wife, R. and me would meet up at a mid way point and spend sometime sailing together.
It was a cold, gray day in the UK when this was decided and I have the horrible feeling it was instigated by me.

It was going to take both of us at least four days for us to reach Samos and the weather might be far from settled. We would travel down from Ayvalik and they would travel up from Gocek. Well, nothing ventured nothing gained!

Inevitably all the preparation work which should have been done on the boat i.e. lift out and cleaned, never got done as we were so busy with jobs at home, nevertheless, we set out, on schedule, first stop Mitilini.

I am not sure whether we had even left the marina before we noticed  white smoke was puffing out of the exhaust and  we were certainly not making as  much speed as we should have been doing.

"Turn back." the Wimp of the Water squealed.
"It's barnacles on the prop. We'll see how we go."

This means no turning back but ploughing on regardless.
Ten minutes into the sail and my mind is working over time;

What do you do it the engine just stops?
How do you call the coast guard?
IS there a coast guard?
Are the life jackets handy?
What if we catch fire?
Oh God why didn't I check how to use the fire extinguishers!!!
Where are the flares?
How do you set them off - I've forgotten everything!!!

I whimper a few fears to my husband who responds with his usual scorn so I shut up and pray for a safe voyage to Mitilini.

Of course we get there safe and sound and I had almost (only almost) relaxed by the time we drew up beside the customs dock. This is a concrete wall indented with pits and scratches  made by those unfortunate to get too close. There is no where to hang onto and no where to tie up.
A very large blue uniformed Greek appears.
"What you want?"
We've just got in from Ayvalik." Best polite English.
"Boat name?"
"Vista."
"Like windows?"
"Yes."
"Go to customs."
He turns and leaves me dangling my bit of rope (sorry line)oblivious to the fact that I need someone to tie us up. Meanwhile, back at the wheel R is asking me to do something impossible like jump off the boat onto the quayside or onto a couple of tires suspended there. Silly man!!
Luckily the Jale Ferry boat is next to us and I can shout over to one of the crew from there for help. Being Turkish he does so with pleasure and we have arrived in Greece.

The harbour master is a tall, strident woman dressed in an incredibly tight blouse and short skirt,  high heeled leather boots complete the picture.  She takes our documents, asks all the necessary questions and dispatches us to customs. He is a sleepy, laid back guy who is not sure why we have had to come to him.
R. asks, "Do we go to Health now?"
"Why? You sick?" stepping back from us.
"No, just a formality."
"You need doctor?"
Before the  man is convinced we have brought the plague I drag R. away.

We make our way passed the coast guards again, on our way to the port police to further report in. The tall Greek meets us at the barrier with his equally tall colleague.

"Where you from?"
"England."
"Where in England?"
This is followed by a conversation about English cities in the North as one of these guys had been to Manchester.
Coast Guard number one suddenly turns on us abruptly.
"You good people or bad people?"

Now what do I say to this?
"Well a bit of both." I answer as honestly as I can.

"Ah well," he looks at us sternly, "Good people go to paradise. Bad people go everywhere! You go to port police now."

We make our way to the port police with the sound of their laughter ringing in our ears. Welcome to Greece.

Once we had completed the rest of the entry procedures we made our way back to the boat, suffered more bad Greek jokes and left to moor up in the unfinished marina. Sometimes I think this is my most favourite sailing place on earth - safe, free and quite!  Here we will stay for the next two days listening to unreliable weather forecasts, stocking up on all the goodies you can't buy in Turkey, glugging back cheap wine and pigging out on cream cakes.
Honestly, I could have stayed forever if I hadn't made the promise to meet in Samos.