Navarino bay, Messinia, Pelopponese, Greece: Navarino bay is probably the most beautiful in the Pelopponese; turquoise waters, sandy beaches of Homeric legend - Ulysses set out from here-, ruined castles and a King's cave. This place has seen quite a few battles on its waters and on the land around it. It's most famous naval battle was in 1827, when an allied French, Russian and British "fleet" of 28 ships engaged 89 Turko-Egyptian ships, sinking all but 1 of the Turkish ships in a little more than 4 hours. The outcome of this battle was the real beginning of modern Greek independence. I hoped to kayak around the Island of Sfaktiria, which shelters the bay from the Ionian sea's worst ravages, by the Sikia channel between Sfakteria and cape Korifasio, heading south to the Tsichli-baba island and the Koutsounes rocks, then back through the Sfakteria channel and north to the put-in on Divari beach, with a stop on Tsichli-baba (an enormous rock, with a natural arch, a jetty and on top, a ruined light-house and one of the monuments to the dead of the battle of Navarino), then half way along Sfakteria, to see the wooden Russian church, then a last visit to the islet Helenaki. The last few days have been very windy in spite of 35°C and amazing sunshine, but the end my holiday is in site, so I want to have a try. I noticed that the wind is very slight until around midday, and then picks up very quickly to force 6 or so. I think I can do my trip and be back before it's too rough. Having got a weather forecast for the day from the harbour master in nearby Pylos, I feel pretty confidant: force 3 from the north-east in the morning, force 4 to 5 from the north-west in the afternoon: I'll be partially in the lee of the island both ways. So, 0630 and my wife asks if I have everything and announces that she's going back to bed for a while and she'll see me later. I push off into the Sikia channel, wondering what the funny roaring noise is. At the seaward end, I found out. The swell, 3 to 4 metres high is coming from the west into the bell-mouth shape of the channel. The swell is amplified in this funnel-shape and reflected back toward the middle, making breakers outwards from the centre to left and right. Out in the Ionian Sea the wind is ripping spray off the swell. After studying the situation for a while, I saw that only about one out of three waves were breaking like that and thought I would try for the ones in between. I tried. Three times. Each time my bow lifted high over the breaker, it was ripped sideways by the wind roaring out of the south. Yes the south, not the north. After three tries, I decided that I should leave the straits and go back into the bay before they are renamed dyer straits in memoriam. I did my turn on the top of a wave. Half way 'round I was broadsided by a wave so big that I just had time to think that I was about to do my first wet exit in real conditions and maybe my wife wasn't going to see me later after all. Folding kayaks though, are amazing boats. Mine saved me now. With no coherent action on my own part, for some reason I was right side up and pointing back into the safety of the bay, though I felt like I'd been through a washing machine. Sir Raymond Priestly said: "....But when you are in a hopeless situation, when you are seeing no way out, get down on your knees and pray for Shackleton." I have at last found a name for my boat. In the bay, I paddled south against the wind, feeling vaguely cheated by the weather forecast. The waves are just enough to prevent me seeing the wrecks of the Turkish ships on the bottom, the wind giving my arms a good workout. I have company. An oil tanker, three hundred-odd metres long is slipping into the bay. It looks enormous. She can't be having trouble with waves. Maybe the captain's mum lives here. In the Sfakteria channel, I can't get near the Tsichli-Baba. The waves that are pushing through between it, the Koutsounes and Sfakteria are outrageous, so no stopping, turn around and back along the island for a well-earned lunch in the little harbour by the Russian church half way back. I swear that as I turned, so did the wind. I watched the oil tanker swing at her anchor until she was stern-on. "Olympic Breeze", Piraeus. For the next hour and a half until I slipped so thankfully into the Russian harbour, I could see the letters and just as I entered the harbour I could read it through my binoculars. The harbour is the perfect size for kayaks, maybe big enough for about five, if they're rafted up. The last stretch, from the church to Divari beach is pure physical effort against the head wind. The wind force, like the wind direction, must be the forecasters idea of a joke. The closer I come to the Sikia straits, the more I'm exposed to it and watching the cliffs of Sfakteria on my left slide past, they slow, stop and sometimes reverse. I'm paddling at sprint speed, advancing slowly in the lulls and at best keeping position in the gusts. After 11/2 hours of this and an extra effort to cross the Sikia strait, I'm back at the put-in, a perfect calm in the lee of cape Korifasio. The bruises on my thighs show me where I still need to pad the cross-ribs and I'm bleeding under my arm where the PFD has rubbed. I feel as if I've won my own little battle of Navarino, I no longer have a boat with no name and I'm the happiest man under the Greek sun. *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - Any opinions or suggestions expressed here are solely those of the writer(s). You must assume the entire responsibility for reliance upon them. All postings copyright the author. Submissions: PaddleWise_at_PaddleWise.net Subscriptions: PaddleWise-request_at_PaddleWise.net Website: http://www.paddlewise.net/ ***************************************************************************
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