Part II- Mal de mer

Thursday, May 18-Saturday, May 20

The happy dream continues. We awoke on the boat after a good night’s sleep and started to get to know the crew- our host and captain, Alfie, his loving partner, Sandi, and the fine young men who are the crew: Oliver and Scott. Their kindness and courtesy promised that this would be a fine adventure.

Today was designated a “lay day” on Zakynthos, so after a morning of strolling the shops of Zakynthos Town, our crew rented a car and took us for an afternoon tour of the island. The day was overcast, but the land still glowed. The tour served as a perfect introduction to the heart and soul of the Greek islands. Winding roads past acres and acres of olive trees, glimpses of Mediterranean/Ionian blue, switchbacks, sheep and goats, and little villages, each one with a taverna and a small shop or two, with proprietors standing in the door, smiling, calling and waving to try to get us to stop and buy. We did stop at an olive oil factory where we couldn’t resist buying olives and a tiny bottle of oil. At another village we bought a few olive wood honey dippers. At Cape Keri we took photos of the view and had some ice cream- it was the beginning of the discovery that Ben and Jerry’s is everywhere.

Statue in Zakynthos Town

Olive trees everywhere

The biggest, oldest olive tree I saw on this trip

The next day, we set sail on a windy, rocky sea. Hunt is famous for saying, “When you’re seasick, you’d have to get better to die.” I had always smugly assumed I was exempt from this malady. I was wrong. But I learned that if you lie in the direction the boat is going, and don’t open your eyes, you will eventually sleep. I lay on my bunk and wondered if I would be able to continue the trip. I felt miserable and sorry for myself, and very homesick. But it’s a truism that “the only way out is through.” Eventually the sea subsided, and after one long day of misery (and the worst sunburn since my childhood), the sickness subsided.

We put in to the most magical cove on the island of Ithaka/Ithaca. There were two small beaches; one with a tiny fleet of fishing boats, and the other was a swimming beach with a hand-lettered sign that read “NUDIST”. We took the dinghy to the shore and waded, collected smooth, white stones and sea glass. Back on the boat, we watched trippers hike down to the bathing beach and demonstrate the accuracy of the sign. Again, the scents and sounds of air and trees created a magical atmosphere. It diminished the suffering of the previous day like a blessing from heaven. We thought about Odysseus, who set forth on his journey from this very island.

Water so clear

We sailed on. The water changed from wine-dark to deep turquoise to brilliant teal-green. A sea turtle swam by, to everyone’s delight. 

The water was calmer, and, stoked on Dramamine, I was drowsy but untroubled by seasickness. We anchored in a cove on Meganisi and ate fresh tuna that had been caught the day before our arrival on board.

The next day we had a brief lunchtime stop at Lefkas, the great charter boat port. Acres of huge modern boats, monohull and catamaran styles, and all the facilities a vacationing sailor could want, from laundry to showers to “supermarket” (much smaller than a store with that name in the States!). Our little wooden boat seemed elegant in its simplicity by comparison to the monsters around us. We availed ourselves of the market, and Sandi, Oliver and I trekked across the docks while the rest stayed  to refuel the boat. We stocked up on what seemed to be mostly crackers, cookies, and chocolate, and the proprietor thanked us with a bottle of wine and a dark sausage which he urged us to hang at room temperature in a dark place for a day before eating.

We sailed on, past fishing weirs and out into the sea once more, until we came to the island of Paxos. From the early planning stages of our journey, when I first saw that name, I felt it would be a significant place – and it was. I will write about that lovely island next time.