Skhinoúsa Órmos Mirsini

The wind on Tuesday 26 July looked like it would be lively but workable, as long as we aimed to sail in the morning rather than the afternoon. Nevertheless, it was still a bit of a shock to the system when our alarm clocks went off to rouse us so that we could get away from Íos by 0700. The first task, however, was to have a look at our anchor. Three red cable-tie markers on the anchor rode, adjacent to the bow roller, showed that we had 30 metres of chain out. That suggested that our anchor was right on top of a really heavy thick chain laid across the harbour seabed (a mooring position for the lazy lines, tailed to the quay). Snorkelling out along our chain it quickly became apparent that our anchor was a lot further out than the heavy chain. The penny finally dropped; we had 40 metres of chain out, as Nicky had intended, but one of our chain markers had come off making it look like there were only 30 metres deployed.

With no entanglement, lifting the anchor became routine business and we were away just after 0700. We went for a conservative 2 reefs in the main, only to find that outside the harbour the wind was much more moderate and an hour later we shook out one of the reefs as we tacked up the western side of the island.

Órmos Mirsini ahead   

Once at the northern tip of Íos we could bear away slightly and head east aiming to route along the southern side of Iráklia. In the lee of the island, alternating wind shadow and downdraughts made progress a little irritating until we were in the channel between Iráklia and Skhínousa. Here the wind was funnelled and we had 25knots+ across the deck. We dropped the second reef in again and, nicely balanced with 2 reefs in the main and just the staysail out, we tacked backwards and forwards up the channel having a great time.

At the northern end of the channel is the harbour of Órmos Mirsini, the main harbour for the small island of Skhínousa. Shelter from the meltemi is said to be excellent there so it seemed like a good place to aim for.

Once inside the bay we found that a lot of other yachts had made the same decision. The quay and the head of the bay were full and so we decided to put ourselves between a large 30-metre long motoryacht and a 45-metre long sailing yacht. Keen to protect their charges the professional crews eyed us warily as we set ourselves up. Under such scrutiny it was very satisfying when the anchoring and Nicky swimming the 2 lines ashore all worked out perfectly.

Our neighbour ‘Fivea’   

The water was beautifully clear and we set about swimming and giving BV’s bottom a scrub. We had picked up quite a lot of coral worm but a scraper soon sorted that out and we worked together to leave BV’s bottom pretty much as clean as when she was launched at the beginning of the season.

The large motor yacht left giving us an evening view of the quay and the ‘no anchor area’ for ferries to turn in; small ferries only we thought.

Not a bit of it! A couple of loud hoots heralded the arrival of one of the large ferries.

A sailing yacht insisiting on getting in the way of a ferry   

In a very slick manoeuvre the ferry did the equivalent of a handbrake turn and reversed up to the quay which seemed far too small for him. It was an impressive piece of ship driving, particularly as there was an idiot of a yacht skipper who insisted on motoring in at the same time, overtaking the ship and then trying to go onto the same piece of quay. The port police had a few choice words to say to him; we couldn’t hear what was said but the sign language was unmistakable.

It was such a sheltered and relaxing spot that we decided to stay an extra night. Wednesday was spent swimming, cleaning and doing some routine admin and maintenance tasks. It felt like we’d spent the time very productively and, with Charlotte on board, sundowners came with the rewards of lots of nice cocktails.

The weather pattern looked set to continue with lighter winds in the mornings so, once again, we set the alarm clocks for a very early start on 28 July. The detailed plan was to ‘get somewhere closer to Naxos’.

Órmos Mirsini, Greece