With sailing off the table, we looked for another way onto the water and settled on one of Greece’s most enchanting islands – Hydra. One of the closest Saronic Islands to Athens, Hydra sits far enough west that it’s generally spared the worst of the Meltemi, making it the perfect escape while the Cyclades continued to be battered by strong winds.

A leisurely morning (the first in quite a while!) eventually gave way to a 3:00 p.m. fast ferry. Unfortunately, the ferries were also running a little late on this day. Schedules thrown about with the winds. But within the hour we were finally underway, grateful our ferry hadn’t been cancelled like many of those heading toward the Cyclades. It did, however, leave us with only a few precious hours to explore before the last ferry home departed at 8:15.

Fortunately, Hydra doesn’t waste a single minute. The moment you step off the ferry, you realize something is missing. Cars. Motorbikes. Traffic. Instead, the waterfront belongs to donkeys, mules and the occasional small horse. They carry everything – from visitors’ luggage and construction materials to crates of fruit, bottled water and supplies for the local shops. Watching a supermarket restock via donkey rather than delivery truck was something none of us ever expected to see!

Hydra is one of those places best discovered without a plan. We wandered the narrow stone alleyways, browsed little boutiques, did a little shopping, admired elegant old sea captains’ mansions, and made a few stops for photo shoots.

As the afternoon progressed, we slowly made our way toward one of the island’s swimming spots. The water was very refreshing, though perhaps a little rough. Still, that didn’t stop seveal of us from jumping in for a quick swim before drying off on the warm rocks and taking several more photos with the gorgeous backdrop.

Back in town we found a waterfront café to cool off before the girls climbed up to the island’s famous Sun Clock, where another spectacular view rewarded the extra effort.

A stop for gelato was, of course, non-negotiable. Then, instead of another restaurant meal, we picked up the freshest sandwiches imaginable from a local bakery and enjoyed them by the harbour while watching the evening light settle over the island.

Before we knew it, it was time to board the ferry back to Athens. It had been a simple, yet most perfect day! Though we all noted that Hydra was somewhere you could come and spend a week, exploring its many hiking trails, wondering the streets, and visiting its other beaches.

We’d already begun scouting sheltered anchorages, hoping to squeeze into one with enough room for everyone to swing safely on their anchors, when the phone rang. Athens Marina had found us a berth from July 28-Aug 5. It’s a mega yacht marina, and, accordingly, they graciously “found” an extra 10 feet of boat on Kora so we’d fit in. (Sadly, they also found an extra 10 feet to charge us for. ) We graciously accepted, noting one bonus – our new home sat just minutes from Athens. The location of both marinas with respect to Athens can be seen in the below map. It was just a 20 nautical mile motor between the two.

Laundry was tackled while we motored around Cape Sounion and into the Saronic Gulf, then it was straight into cleaning mode. Fresh sheets appeared on every bed, and before long she was ready to welcome her next crew.

Not long after, I heard my name echoing down the dock. My close friend Gracie, and her two daughters, Dakota and Sierra, had arrived! After a whirlwind first day in Greece, including exploring the Acropolis and local flea markets on one of the hottest days the city has seen all summer, they were more than ready for a shower, a comfortable bed, and an early night.

While the girls recovered, Gracie, Doug and I slipped into nearby Piraeus for dinner, returning to our favorite little sushi restaurant before grabbing fresh pasta for the girls from a tiny place called Mailo’s, where fresh homemade pasta and signature sauces are prepared right in front of you – even the pasta was prepared from scratch! Delicious – the girls highly recommend it!

The Meltemi started to pick up the following day, but if it thought we’d spend the week sitting around, it clearly hadn’t met our crew. Gracie, Dakota, Sierra, and I escaped to Bolivar Beach Club (formerly known as Macaw Beach Club), one of Athens’ most popular stretches of sand. A sheltered bay, crystal-clear water, sun lounges, music, icy-cold beverages, and plenty of opportunities to cool off made for a perfect summer afternoon.

Doug’s day was slightly less glamorous. His stubborn shin wound earned another visit to the local emergency department, where a fresh course of antibiotics was prescribed. The leg may well collect an impressive scar, but thankfully it’s now heading in the right direction.

By evening we were all back together, wandering through Monastiraki Square and the winding streets of Plaka in downtown Athens, soaking up the atmosphere before another wonderful Greek dinner beneath the glow of the Acropolis.

The boats may have been staying put… But we certainly weren’t. And tomorrow? Let’s just say we’ve found another way to get out on the water. Stay tuned.

With that mystery unsolved, we settled into Olympic Marina in Lavrion, a bustling port town southeast of Athens that has welcomed sailors for thousands of years. Once famous for its ancient silver mines that helped finance the Athenian navy, today it serves as one of Greece’s busiest gateways for charter boats to the Cyclades.

That evening we wandered through the nearby town of Lavrio together. As much as we’ve fallen in love with Greek cuisine over the past two months, three of us suddenly found ourselves craving something completely different – burgers! They tasted every bit as good as we’d hoped.

Our timing for our trip into town couldn’t have been better. The town was celebrating the feast day of Saint Paraskevi, patron saint of Lavrio, with music, parades, and festivities filling the streets. It was one of those unexpected moments we love about this style of travel – stumbling across local celebrations we never would have known existed.

The following day saw everyone heading in different directions. Amanda and Evan caught the train into Athens to finally experience the Acropolis and the city’s ancient treasures. Doug paid a visit to a local doctor to have the gash on his shin professionally inspected. (Good news – it looked far worse than it actually was.)

And I… well… Let’s just say I spent the day (and much of the next 3 days) trying to recover several weeks’ worth of blog writing after a particularly frustrating hacking incident temporarily locked me out of my files and all editing abilities. Technology. Can’t live with it… Can’t throw it overboard. Hmmm…

That evening we reunited one last time over dinner at a lovely restaurant at the marina. Good food, good conversation, and one last chance to laugh about the adventures we’d shared over the past week.

The next morning arrived far too quickly. Bright and early Amanda and Evan were heading for the airport. Thank you both for another unforgettable adventure aboard KORA. From sailing stories at the helm and underwater octopus encounters to impossible anchorages, OPA moments, and countless laughs, you’ve added another chapter to memories we’ll treasure for years to come.

As for KORA… We slipped our lines and made the short hop to Athens Marina, where we’d unexpectedly spend the next week. Not because we wanted to. Because the Meltemi had returned with a vengeance. Forecasts now called for sustained winds of 20–30 knots, gusts reaching 35-55 knots, and seas building to 8-12 feet. Even seasoned local sailors were shaking their heads. Sometimes the smartest sailing decision is knowing when not to sail. Fortunately, Athens is a pretty wonderful place to be “stuck.” And with another group of guests about to arrive, we had a feeling the next chapter was going to be just as memorable.

Along the way we enjoyed another sighting of the Temple of Poseidon, one disproportionately tall skyscaper on the Athens skyline, and a group of kids out learning to sail on hobby cats. So fun!

Tucked into a sheltered bay, KORA became less of a sailboat and more of a floating holiday home. While Amanda and Evan disappeared beneath the surface with their snorkels, Doug (still giving his recently gashed shin a well-earned rest) settled into the role of DJ, captain, and supervisor from the comfort of the cockpit.

Eventually I couldn’t resist the water either and jumped in. Before long Amanda joined me, a wine glass for each of us in hand, and a big bowl of freshly cut watermelon. We drifted around on the floats for over an hour while music played from KORA. Soon one bowl of mouthwatering cold watermelon turned into four, and the wine was quickly forgotten. Asbsolutely delicious! It was one of those afternoons where nobody cared what time it was.

Evan, meanwhile… apparently has gills. While the rest of us floated about doing very little, he somehow managed to find another octopus. We’re beginning to suspect the local marine life thinks he’s one of them.

That evening we wandered ashore to a little taverna overlooking the bay, tucked beneath cascades of bright pink bougainvillea.

What an amazing feast of the freshest seafood!

Halfway through dinner the skies suddenly opened. No one moved. Another drink was ordered, stories kept flowing, and we simply watched the warm summer rain dance across the harbor.

Back aboard, KORA had received the freshwater rinse she’d desperately needed after days of battling the rough seas. 

The following morning, however, my Greek adventures took an unexpected turn. Let’s just say a little too much watermelon and I became far better acquainted with KORA’s bathroom than I had ever planned. So I sadly waved goodbye as Doug, Evan & Amanda headed off in the dinghy.

Rather than reading about my thoroughly unexciting day aboard, I’ll let my awesome friend, Amanda, tell you about Kea…

The day began with “a little sprinkle and a dash across the harbour.” After tying up the dinghy, we wandered into town and almost immediately stumbled across a dive shop. Evan had been searching for a replacement snorkel part ever since Kos, so finding one felt like a little victory. The owner couldn’t have been kinder, helping us hail a taxi for the winding drive up to Ioulida (Hora).

“The drive was iconic,” twisting our way up the narrow roads through Kea’s countryside at an easy pace. Of course, just as we arrived… the weather hit us again: “Not heavy, just another sprinkle and enough to get us wet.” 

We ducked into a little café overlooking the nearby harbour and enjoyed a cappuccino, espresso, and a traditional Greek breakfast while we waited it out. It was just in time! “The weather came, drenching the hot and arid soil and cooling the rooftops and streets. The air turned crisp and cool, and we were refreshed by the change and ready for exploring.”

As soon as we were finishing breakfast, “the clouds parted and the sun came out just in time for us to venture out.” Perfect timing!

Making our way through the village, we passed charming whitewashed houses, winding stone steps, grapevines, colourful bougainvillea and more friendly cats than seemed possible.

As we climbed higher, “the views became more and more beautiful. We took many stops just taking it all in.”

The Lion of Kea, carved directly into the rock more than 2,500 years ago, was nestled just beyond the cemetery. We took a few photos, admired the sweeping views across the island and, “of course we needed a bathroom again!” (I know that feeling Amanda!!!)

Back in town, we wandered in and out of little shops until one pottery studio stopped us in our tracks. The artist shared how she’d spent twenty years living in America before returning home to Greece, and after hearing her story, choosing the perfect handmade keepsake became an easy decision. We can’t wait for it to arrive back in Texas.

After a little Greek lunch of gyros and tzatziki, we wandered the waterfront, popping into a few more shops looking for any last treasures to bring home.

“Final stop of the day was definitely to grab a gelato before heading to the dinghy dock for the quick ride across the harbour back to rest on KORA for the evening.”

— Amanda

Indeed, sometimes the best travel days aren’t the busiest ones. They’re the ones where you simply wander, meet kind people, and let the island surprise you.

A huge thank you to Amanda for stepping in and sharing her day ashore xo

Our passage from Ikaria on this day covered about 55 nautical miles, and the Aegean certainly made us earn every one of them. The day began innocently enough with 15–20 knots of breeze – ideal sailing weather! But as we rounded the southern tip of Ikaria, powerful katabatic winds tumbled down from the mountains, sending gusts close to 40 knots across our path. 

Once clear of the island, the wind settled into the low twenties, but by then the sea had developed a mind of its own: 8 to 10-foot waves rolled in from different directions, creating the confused seas every sailor hopes to avoid. Hmmm!

Just to keep things interesting, our port bilge alarm suddenly sounded, indicating that water was accumulating in the lowest part of the hull. Fortunately, the culprit wasn’t anything dramatic. Repeated waves breaking over the port sugar scoop had forced a little seawater past a hatch seal. Once safely anchored, we dried everything out, adjusted the hatch latches for a tighter seal, and KORA was happy again.

By late afternoon we abandoned our plans to reach Syros and happily embraced Plan B, slipping into the protection of Proteas Bay on Rineia (also spelled Rheneia), where we dropped the anchor in just 10 feet of crystal-clear gorgeous turquoise water. Rineia has no villages, no hotels and no permanent residents. Lying just west of Delos and southwest of Mykonos, it remains wonderfully undeveloped. In ancient times it served as the burial island for nearby Delos, after religious laws prohibited burials on the sacred island itself. 

On calm summer days, its sheltered bays attract dozens of yachts and day boats, all drawn by its raw natural beauty, crystal-clear turquoise waters, and golden sand, providing a wonderful spot for swimming, snorkelling, paddleboarding, or just enjoying a lazy afternoon sitting on deck enjoying views of the water. 

On this day, however, there was another reason for the growing crowd. As the afternoon wore on, yacht after yacht tucked into the bay seeking refuge from the wind. Before long, what had started as a quiet anchorage had become a floating neighbourhood. Honestly … it was rather fun!

However, after such a demanding sail, none of us had much energy left. We simply sat back in the cockpit, soaking up the sunshine and watching the constant parade of boats arriving, anchoring, and greeting one another across the water.

Well … almost all of us. Evan somehow still had enough energy to launch the paddleboard and go exploring. Some people apparently don’t know the meaning of “tired.”

After paddleboarding, Evan was back in the water with his snorkel. The rocky shoreline was alive with colorful fish – beautiful to watch, although perhaps not quite the ones you’d put on the dinner table! He even came face-to-face with an octopus that briefly wrapped a couple of tentacles around his arm before deciding it had better places to be and disappearing back into the rocks. For those of us who stayed on board, the entertainment came from tossing a few leftovers over the side of KORA which quickly turned into an underwater feeding frenzy.

As the sun began to sink, our attention turned to the hillside above the anchorage, where the weathered remains of an ancient stone gateway stood silhouetted against the evening sky. Believed to be part of an old rural sanctuary or ancient agricultural complex dating back to the Classical or Hellenistic period, the lonely ruins have watched over this quiet bay for more than two thousand years. Watching the sun disappear through that ancient doorway felt like a fitting end to a day shaped entirely by nature.

The following morning, the Aegean offered an apology. The sea had settled, the wind eased, and our sail north toward Kea became everything we’d been hoping for. Sails were trimmed without urgency, conversations replaced weather briefings, and life aboard KORA slipped comfortably back into its familiar rhythm.

Sometimes the best sailing days are the ones that remind you just how good the calm ones really are.

The sail north from Patmos was one of our easier passages. Around 25 nautical miles, we enjoyed the sail with the sun on our faces and the wind in our hair. We lingered over breakfast underway, enjoyed the sunshine, and by mid-afternoon eased KORA into Agios Kirykos Marina on Ikaria’s southern coast.

After topping up on a few provisions, we set off on foot for Therma, about a 20-minute stroll up and over the hills to a pretty little waterfront village known for its iconic thermal springs.

The midday sun made us question our decision – particularly given the stairs involved. Walking to soak in hot springs on one of the warmest days of summer also seemed… optimistic. But the walk there was made all the more pleasant by the interactions we had with several friendly locals who stopped to point us in the right direction, offering recommendations on where to swim, where to eat, and, perhaps most importantly, where to enjoy a good drink later.

By the time we reached Therma, the boys had already found the perfect strategy. Cold drinks. Comfortable chairs. Shade overlooking the beach. They were set!

Amanda and I chose the more adventurous option. The beach itself was a little rocky (water shoes recommended!) and the water refreshingly cold… perhaps too refreshing.

After cooling off, we wandered a few metres further along to the famous thermal springs, where naturally heated mineral water bubbles into the sea.

Ikaria’s hot springs have attracted visitors since ancient times. Rich in minerals including radon and sulphur, they’re believed to help with arthritis, joint pain and circulation. Whether science agrees with every claim or not, I have to admit… my left knee had been giving me some trouble lately as past injuries tend to do, but it did feel a little happier afterwards! Maybe the Ikarians are onto something.

Back at KORA, showers were quickly followed by another important mission. Find goat! Doug and I have been raving about this common menu feature, but hadn’t found any the past few stops. Evan and Amanda were keen to try it!

It was on that premise that we found ourselves at Taverna Klimataria, a charming family-run restaurant tucked away in a side street behind the harbour beneath a canopy of lush green vines.

The owner greeted us warmly… until we asked whether we could order fried courgette and squid. We got a sharp “No.” Not, “Sorry, we’ve sold out.” Just…”No.” Slightly nervous about what else might earn the same response, we hesitantly continued on with the rest of our order. Fortunately every other dish received a encouraging “yes” and “very good!”

The oregano goat was beautifully tender, the rooster stew rich and comforting, and we also shared lamb, pancetta and several other traditional Ikarian dishes, all washed down with homemade wine.

Feeling adventurous, we also sampled Retsina, Greece’s famous pine-resin wine. The menu warned us not to approach it with preconceived ideas. We tried. We really did. But, let’s just say, we were very happy to switch to the regular Greek white house wine.

By the time we wandered back to the marina well after 11 o’clock, we discovered we’d acquired another crew member. A cat had made itself entirely at home in the helm seat, looking thoroughly unimpressed by our return.

After politely evicting our furry skipper, we settled into the cool evening breeze while Evan made one final heroic dive into the crystal-clear marina to retrieve Amanda’s sunglasses from the seabed. Mission accomplished!

Despite fish circling KORA beneath the lights, we unanimously decided we’d run out of energy to even attempt to catch our own food. Tomorrow would be another day…

There’s something special about sailing with fellow sailors who are also close friends. Doug finally had someone sitting beside him at the helm who genuinely wanted to spend hours discussing wind shifts, sail trim, weather models, anchoring techniques, and whether we were really squeezing another quarter of a knot out of the boat – or just imagining it. Amanda and I weren’t entirely sure what they were talking about, but judging by the laughter, whatever it was must have been hilarious… or at least very, very nauti-cal.

Meanwhile, Amanda and I were perfectly happy letting the “experts” solve the world’s sailing problems while we caught up over coffee, shared stories from home, and enjoyed the simple gift of uninterrupted time together. Good girlfriends are hard to come by, and time together is always special! Oh yeah, and we are sailing the Greek islands together after all. What can be more special than that?!?

Our destination on this day was Leipsoi (Lipsi), one of the quieter gems of the Dodecanese. Home to fewer than a thousand residents, the island is known for its peaceful coves, whitewashed village, and wonderfully slow pace of life – exactly what we all were looking for!

We anchored in the sheltered bay of Katsadia, and before the anchor had even finished digging in, Evan was over the side. His verdict? “Refreshing.” The rest of us translated that as, “Absolutely freezing.”

Dinner that evening was one of those meals that reminds you why sailing is so special: grilled salmon, fresh Greek salad, warm bread, good olive oil, good friends, and nowhere else we’d rather have been.

Eventually the Ouzo appeared. By now you all know the routine…

One… two… three… OPA!

The next morning arrived early. Well… for some of us.

Jet lag had Evan wide awake before sunrise, so naturally he decided it was the perfect opportunity to finally try out Doug’s long-neglected Snuba and the spear gun Mack had left us. Doug has carried the Snuba aboard KORA since we left France. Until now, its only successful hunting expedition had been our backyard swimming pool.

Breakfast plans briefly featured freshly speared fish. Reality featured bacon. Not that anyone complained.

While enjoying breakfast we couldn’t help noticing the crew on the neighbouring yacht. Five gentlemen sat shoulder-to-shoulder along their monohulls dressed in nothing but confidence, drying off after their morning swim. We politely admired the view in every other direction!

Our next stop was Patmos, just 11 nautical miles away.

Known around the world as the island where St John is believed to have written the Book of Revelation, Patmos is one of Greece’s most important pilgrimage destinations. Towering above the main port in Skala is the magnificent fortified Monastery of Saint John, a UNESCO World Heritage Site that has watched over the island for more than 900 years.

Unfortunately, our plans to visit the town hit a familiar Greek obstacle. The marina was full. Again. “No problem,” we thought. “We’ll just anchor.” Those words should probably never be spoken with such confidence.

Evan has since affectionately named our first anchorage attempt Πέρασμα που σου σφίγγει τον κώλο. We’ll let Google Translate handle that one!

Picture this. Sixty feet of water. Strong crosswinds. Large (expensive) yachts anchored lines-to-shore on either side. Not a lot of spare room for error. What followed was… entertaining. For everyone – but us!

At one point we discovered we’d nearly run out of anchor chain and prepared to extend out to our rode. The wind nudged us toward one particularly expensive-looking yacht, whose skipper became sufficiently concerned that he launched his dinghy to come and “assist.” To be fair, we never felt quite as close as he apparently did – but it was a generous offer nonetheless.

By now his entire crew had gathered on deck. Apparently we’d become the afternoon’s entertainment.

Then came Evan’s turn. Without hesitation he swam ashore towing our stern line, climbed onto the rocks, and just like that, the line was secured! For a brief moment, it looked as though we’d won. Evan performing a little victory dance on the rocks afterward was probably the highlight of the entire manoeuvre!

Then another catamaran arrived. Five anchoring attempts later… they wisely gave up. We looked at each other. Maybe they were onto something. With ferries rolling through, wakes bouncing around the bay, and enough excitement for one afternoon, we unanimously voted to relocate.

Our second anchorage, Meloi Beach, couldn’t have been more different. Protected, peaceful, and complete with a handful of curious donkeys wandering nearby, it was exactly what we’d been looking for all along.

Rather than tackle the hike into town, we opted for dinner at the little waterfront taverna overlooking the bay.

Sometimes the best adventures end not with another sightseeing checklist, but with good food, tired smiles, and a spectacular Greek sunset.

The fishing rods came out again that evening. The fish – some of them quite large – were clearly putting on a show just beneath KORA. But… unfortunately… they simply had not received the memo about dinner. Tomorrow, we’ll give them another chance!

If you’ve been following KORA from the beginning, you’ll remember Amanda the and Evan from our 2024 maiden voyage, when they joined us sailing from La Rochelle, France, across the Bay of Biscay to Gijón and on to A Coruña. Below are the links to our first sail if you’re interested in revisiting. We’ve covered over 4,500 nautical miles since that maiden journey!!!

• June 1, 2024: Setting Off On Our First Major Sail
• June 2, 2024: Second Night at Sea

Evan and Amanda are also part of the reason this whole adventure exists. Karen learned to sail through SailTime Houston, the boat club and sailing school Evan and Amanda own and operate, where we spent more than a year sailing one of their 40-foot monohulls before setting off on our own Mediterranean adventure. If you’ve ever thought about learning to sail – or simply want to enjoy sailing without the commitment of owning a boat – we couldn’t recommend them more highly!

Before they arrived we had one more rough day of Meltemi sailing with Kaitlyn before the seas finally brought us to Kardamena, on the southern coast of Kos. Once a quiet fishing village, Kardamena is now one of the island’s most popular seaside towns, with long sandy beaches, waterfront cafés, beach clubs, and a lively holiday atmosphere.

We were excited to dock to land for the airport drop-offs and pick-ups. However, the small marina, had other ideas. All six visitor berths were full. So… out came the anchor.

With KORA safely settled, Doug and Kaitlyn headed ashore for one final father-daughter afternoon while I stayed aboard preparing for our next guests.

What followed could best be described as one of those boating afternoons where everything happens at once.

Within minutes of reaching shore, Doug slipped while stepping from the dinghy, opening a rather impressive gash along his shin. With blood gushing down his leg, their sightseeing plans were immediately replaced by an island-wide search for medical care. Being Saturday afternoon, most clinics had already closed, but thankfully a local pharmacy came to the rescue with antiseptic, Steri-Strips and a Tagaderm dressing that did an admirable job patching him back together.

Back aboard KORA…things weren’t exactly quiet either. One particularly strong gust decided one of our cockpit cushions looked lonely and launched it overboard. (Cushion was untethered while accessing the dinghy.) Without thinking too much about it, I dove in after it. Despite moderaturely rough seas and currents, I figured I’d give it a go – for at least a short distance Mission accomplished with the cushion saved, but getting back aboard proved rather more interesting. The swim ladder wasn’t down, the current was pulling me away, and apparently my upper body strength was a little lacking. But after a few determined attempts (and collecting a couple of new bruises) I finally managed to scramble back aboard.

Neither were exactly photo moments. Haha! But, let’s just say that KORA keeps finding creative ways to keep life interesting!

That evening we enjoyed one final dinner ashore with Kaitlyn before saying our goodbyes. Rather than risk a pre-dawn dinghy ride for her early flight, Kaitlyn and I checked into a nearby Airbnb for the night while Doug returned to KORA to welcome Amanda and Evan, who had just completed nearly 24 hours of travel from Texas.

The timing of the arrival of our new guests couldn’t have been better. The next morning the Meltemi had passed and the water became almost glasslike! After restocking provisions, the four of us motored the short distance north toward Kos Town, enjoying the calmest water we’d seen in days.

At one point we spotted what appeared to be a bright green inflatable floating offshore. There had been some radio talk about missing persons in the region, so, fearing someone might have been washed away from shore, we made a sharp detour to investigate. Fortunately, nobody was attached (and we learned that the reports referred to a different incident). The inflatable now has a new home aboard KORA, where it will undoubtedly see considerably more use than Kaitlyn’s float ever did. (Sorry Kaitlyn!)

Kos itself felt noticeably greener than many of the Cycladic islands we’d just left behind. Fruit trees lined the streets – pomegranates, grapes, pears, citrus and flowering gardens everywhere (including bottlebrush, native to Australia!) – giving the island a freshness that immediately stood out. We even found some of the wild plums we had been introduced to at the farm, which Evan enjoyed sampling.

Entering through the fortifications of the Medieval town walls (top left), we wandered through Kos Old Town. Here ancient ruins seem to appear between cafés, shops and busy streets. Within the Ancient Agora are the remains of the Sanctuary of Hercules, established around the late fourth or early third century BC and dedicated to Heracles, the legendary hero known for his strength. Nearby, the Sanctuary of Aphrodite once honored the goddess of love and beauty (bottom left), while the remarkably well-preserved Roman Odeon (middle left) was built around the second century AD for music, performances and public gatherings. Its curved rows of seating once accommodated hundreds of spectators and still make it easy to imagine the city in Roman times.

One highlight was seeing the legendary Plane Tree of Hippocrates (above, top right), where tradition says the “Father of Medicine” once taught his students more than 2,400 years ago. Whether the tree itself is quite that old remains debated, but the connection to Hippocrates gives Kos a special place in medical history.

Of course, we didn’t explore all of this without a few strategic drink stops along the way! Kos Town has no shortage of inviting cafés and bars, so we paused more than once for something cold before continuing our wander.

We finished the evening watching the sun sink over Kos, while, in the opposite direction across the water, the hills and lights of Bodrum, Türkiye, were clearly visible. There aren’t many places where you can enjoy sunset in Greece while looking across at another country at the same time!

Tomorrow… with calm seas finally on our side, it will be time to introduce Amanda and Evan to the Dodecanese. Can’t wait!

I arrived in Greece expecting sunshine, swimming, and a relaxing week aboard KORA. Instead, my second full day at sea began with what felt like a practical demonstration of fluid dynamics.

The sail from Schoinaoussa to Astypalea (some spell it Astypalaia) was about 50 nautical miles and took roughly ten hours. Sustained winds hovered anywhere between 15 and 30 knots, gusting close to 40, with waves somewhere between 3-6 feet. Dad’s face tells it all – even if you look beyond the fact that he’s wearing his life jacket and tethered to the boat!

Fortunately, I was a little jet lagged, so while everyone else battled the sea, I slept through a surprising amount of it. Every now and then I’d wake up, poke my head outside, spot another tiny uninhabited Cycladic island drifting past, decide the sea still looked thoroughly uninviting, and happily return to bed.

I’d packed one of those inflatable floating loungers in my carry-on, imagining long lazy afternoons drifting around crystal-clear bays out the back of KORA. At this point I’m feeling like it might have been wasted luggage space in my small carryon bag as Astypalea greeted us with considerably more wind than swimming opportunities. With swimming not an option, I settled in up on the front deck to enjoy the surrounding view which was really nice.

That evening I was promoted from passenger to crew and assigned dinner duty. Spaghetti Bolognese turned out surprisingly well considering the kitchen kept trying to move independently of the rest of the boat. Afterwards we played Skip-Bo, a long-standing family tradition. Needless to say, I won! Some traditions are important to preserve.

Because of the forecast, someone needed to stay awake keeping an eye on KORA throughout the night in case the anchor dragged. Mum and I volunteered for first watch. We watched Jane Austen’s Emma (the newest movie version), although the wind whistling through the rigging occasionally drowned out entire conversations. Just after midnight we handed responsibility over to Dad. Years of taking the night shift as a radiologist have him well-prepared. Funny story – when I was young I use to tell my friends my dad was nocturnal. Haha!

The next morning Mum produced an excellent breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast while Dad and I conducted what I’m fairly sure qualifies as a formal risk assessment regarding the dinghy ride to shore. Dad eventually concluded, “If we’re doing this, let’s go now while the coast guard is here!”

Mum remained aboard in case KORA’s anchor dragged again. I became slightly less enthusiastic when Dad started explaining what Mum would need to do if the dinghy motor failed (it’s a little temperamental) and we couldn’t row back against the wind and current. Fortunately, none of those contingency plans became necessary. The ride ashore was bumpy but successful, and mum got a few good pics of us.

Oddly, once we stepped onto land it was as though someone had switched the wind off completely.

Astypalea is beautiful. Whitewashed houses climb the hillside toward an imposing Venetian castle, tiny blue-domed churches appear around unexpected corners, and old windmills stand overlooking one of the prettiest harbours I’ve seen.

Dad and I wandered all the way to the castle, explored inside the old walls (that’s all left standing today), admired the incredible views back across the bay (mum is out there on KORA – the furthest boat from shore), and somehow still had enough energy to continue exploring the winding streets.

We also accomplished several highly important scientific objectives.

• Purchased pudding for Mum.
• Sampled a coconut Red Bull (Dad’s experiment, not mine).
• Located a souvenir magnet.
• Conducted a thorough comparison of multiple supermarkets.
• Sampled some Greek zucchini pie (highly recommend it!)
• Ate gelato.

I also discovered that nearly every shady spot seemed to come pre-equipped with at least one cat. As a bonus, we even found a bench where two cats had clearly established a sophisticated alternating-shift arrangement for avoiding the afternoon sun (picture below for Candis ).

Eventually we headed back down to the dinghy. Dad noticed one of the stern lines had worked itself loose, so there was a brief episode of emergency knot-tying before we launched back into the bay.

The return journey was… wetter. Significantly wetter! By the time we climbed back aboard KORA, drying off on the bow in the sunshine sounded like an excellent life decision.

A little rest before it was back to business as usual with a research meeting from aboard KORA.

Despite the rough seas, I definitely enjoyed Astypalea. You have to agree that the night views are particularly spectacular! And while the swimming may still be on hold for now, the inflatable float hasn’t officially been declared dead luggage…yet.

Our goal over the next few days was simple: keep moving east toward Kos while staying one step ahead of the Meltemi. Along the way we needed to find sheltered anchorages where we could safely spend each night if the forecast worsened. Throughout the day we kept one eye on the horizon and the other on the latest weather updates, adjusting course whenever necessary.

By late afternoon we dropped anchor in the tiny island of Schoinoussa. The sail had been mostly enjoyable, one might even venture to all the first half of the day calm. But throughout the day the winds picked up from 12 to 25 knots. KORA definitely got a good workout, the final hour becoming considerably bumpier than we’d hoped.

In Schoinoussa, with the anchor well set, Kaitlyn decided it was finally time for that long-awaited swim off the back of KORA. Well… sort of. The wind was still funneling through the bay, so instead of floating peacefully she found herself clinging to the buoy tied behind KORA with both hands, bobbing around and hanging on with all her might. Unfortunately, no photos. We were focused on our rescue strategy if needed!

Swimming plans: postponed. Dinner ashore sounded like a much better idea! Doug volunteered to stay aboard and keep an eye on the anchor while the girls headed to shore. With no dinghy dock available to tie up to, he graciously dropped us to shore before heading back to KORA.

One thing we were pleasantly surprised to find was a small accessibility lift connecting the harbour to the parking lot. Historic villages throughout Europe can be challenging to navigate for anyone with limited mobility, so it was lovely to see thoughtful infrastructure that made the waterfront more accessible.

The walk to town, however, still involved a long, dusty climb. Halfway up, a kind couple staying at an airbnb we passed slowed their car and offered us a lift. Before I could answer, Kaitlyn gave me a sideways look, quietly reminding me, “You always taught me not to get into cars with strangers!” Fair point. So we kept walking.

Along the way we passed grazing goats, sleepy sheep and spectacular views over the harbour below (can you spot KORA?) before arriving at Deli, a restaurant recommended by some other dock neighbours (not the Aussies this time) back in Naxos.

Another good suggestion! The homemade pasta was delicious, but somehow the view stole the show. As the afternoon softened into evening, we wandered the quiet lanes of Schoinoussa, enjoying one last look across the harbour before making the much easier downhill walk back to the beach.

Doug was already waiting in the dinghy. He’d been watching our location from KORA and was hoping we’d make it back before darkness settled in.

Back aboard, we watched another beautiful Cycladic sunset before ending the evening the way Kaitlyn and I often do whenever we’re together – with a LEGO set spread across the saloon table. It has become a bit of a tradition over the years. Some families play charades, others play board games. We build tiny plastic masterpieces.

Tomorrow, though, the forecast is promising another early start… and another encounter with the Meltemi. Argh!