With KORA temporarily operating more like a motor cat than a sailboat, our first day on the water with Kelley, Lori and Dale would take us somewhere familiar: Kea.
In fact, given the rather feisty weather forecast for the coming days, we’ll be revisiting several places we’ve already enjoyed. Familiar anchorages, known holding grounds and protected bays suddenly seem like very good insurance when your goal is to give friends a fantastic week without introducing them too enthusiastically to the Aegean.
And there was another upside to returning to Kea. Regular readers may recall that on our last visit I was sidelined by a rather unfortunate encounter with an excessive quantity of delicious Greek watermelon. Let’s just say I haven’t touched watermelon since. This time I was determined to actually see the island.
We slipped our lines at 7:00 am, hoping to get ahead of the winds forecast to build later in the day. The prediction looked fairly manageable: around 15 knots of wind and 3-4 foot seas. But here’s something we’ve learned about sailing in Greece: wind speed only tells half the story. Fifteen knots can be delightful on relatively flat water. Add a larger or confused sea state and suddenly the same passage feels entirely different.
And, naturally, the forecast wasn’t quite what we got!
The morning began beautifully. Scrambled eggs and toast appeared, we cruised past the magnificent Temple of Poseidon at Cape Sounion, and the women all spread out across KORA’s foredeck cushions soaking up the sunshine and catching up on life. Much of the conversation revolved around our kids – and yes, all three families remain firmly convinced we hit the jackpot in that department!
Then the Aegean woke up.
Gusts climbed toward 30 knots, waves built to 5-6 feet, and those peaceful foredeck cushions suddenly became front-row seats in the splash zone. Sheets of water began exploding upward through the trampoline, repeatedly blanketing Kelley. Lori received a particularly impressive dousing of her own. I somehow escaped with only a few splashes. And at some point, one unnamed crew member was spotted leaning gracefully between the starboard lifelines, taking a quiet moment to return breakfast to the sea. No names will be released. What happens in the Aegean stays in the Aegean.
Needless to say, the protected waters of Koundouros Bay looked especially beautiful when we finally dropped anchor. Within minutes Lori, Dale and I were overboard. The water was the perfect temperature, the rough passage was behind us, and suddenly all was right with the world again, before all bundling into the dinghy to head to shore.
Then it was time for Kea Take Two. A taxi carried us high into the hills to Ioulida, Kea’s wonderfully preserved capital. Cars stop at the edge of town, leaving its narrow stone lanes to pedestrians – and the occasional donkey, still useful for moving goods through streets never designed for vehicles. It’s easy to imagine the logistics of island life here. Your car and groceries stay down in the parking lot… while you and your shopping bags still have a rather vertical commute home.
We wandered through whitewashed lanes, stopped at little terraces overlooking the mountains, browsed local shops and naturally found time for gelato. I also made it back to the pottery studio where Doug had bought a piece on our previous visit. Bringing home one piece of local art from our travels has become something of a family tradition, so this felt like unfinished business.
Then came the Lion of Kea. Carved directly into the rock more than 2,500 years ago, the mysterious smiling lion has watched over Ioulida since Archaic times. As I mentioned in a prior post, its exact purpose remains uncertain, although local mythology connects it with a fearsome lion sent to protect the island. Whatever the story, it’s an extraordinary thing to find lying quietly beside an ancient mountain path.
Before returning to KORA, we made one strategically important stop in Korissia, the islands ferry port, to purchase: Jelly. Because after today’s passage, we’d remembered another important law of sailing: when the sea gets rough, elaborate lunches disappear and PB&J suddenly becomes haute cuisine. Easy to make, easy to hold, the familiar food also easier to keep down. 😂
Dinner ashore that evening provided one final adventure.We selected a lovely-looking taverna overlooking the water in Voukari, although after a full day of sailing, swimming and hiking, we apparently weren’t quite giving off their preferred clientele vibe. We were ushered toward a quiet table in the back, where service proceeded at a similarly leisurely pace. Poor Kelley and Dale were still waiting for their pork chops a good twenty minutes after the rest of us had finished. Then the chops arrived. Apparently delayed because they were serving the entire thing. They were enormous!
Fed, exhausted and laughing, we wandered back toward the dinghy, passing a sweet little shop called Emily’s along the way – a small reminder of the girl whose Tulane volleyball world brought this newest KORA crew into our lives in the first place.
Back aboard, nobody needed convincing that it was bedtime. Kea Take Two: complete. New crew officially initiated.
Tomorrow’s request? Slightly less Aegean, please!
