Andreas Fritsch
· 23.07.2023
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The god of the winds, Aeolus, has given us a fine day: as we set sail from Corfu, the sun is shining and there’s a light southerly breeze. Admittedly not ideal if you’re planning to sail nearly 200 nautical miles on a course of around 160 degrees, rounding the Peloponnese from the Ionian Sea on our way to Athens. But then again, we don’t have to make do with a run-of-the-mill charter boat. Our friend Andrea has lent us her Comet 45 S for this one-way trip. She and her husband Ulli plan to sail the boat back from Athens to Corfu at a leisurely pace afterwards.
The Comet turns out to be a real hit. As the four of us position the boat in the slightest breeze and hoist the mainsail, a sinfully expensive, high-quality laminate sail – fully battened, of course – actually glides up the pitch-black carbon-fibre mast on ball-bearing runners towards the top. Next, another laminate sail of the same calibre unfurls at the bow. For sailors who are otherwise used to sailing on run-of-the-mill charter yachts with furling sails, this is absolutely brilliant. After pumping a bit more pressure into the hydraulic backstay tensioner, my sailing mate Uwe steers the Comet up into the light breeze. The sails of the cruiser/racer are perfectly set, and the boat sets off southwards. Whilst the charter yachts around us are already chugging away on diesel, we glide along at four to five knots. Fantastic.
We start doing the maths: simply sail straight through to Cape Maleas, the first ‘finger’ of the Peloponnese, before heavy rain and then 50-knot winds set in for two or three days? Unfortunately, that’s the weather forecast. The temptation is great. Especially as the Peloponnese is just like Greece was 20 years ago: hardly any boats, wild scenery, little tourism, and quaint villages with towers instead of houses in the Mani region. And then to plunge into the deep-blue Aegean Sea with its barren, ochre-coloured islands and fantastic destinations such as Monemvasia, Hydra and Poros. The only catch: the beautiful Ionian Sea, with its mountainous, lushly green islands, would then be off the cards. The crew are torn.
But Aeolus puts an end to all the musing. The sky is slowly clouding over; right in front of the idyllic bay of Lakka, on the northern tip of Paxos, the wind dies down. So we turn off course, drop anchor and enjoy the perfectly sheltered bay in front of the little village, the hills with their crumbly rocky outcrops and the olive groves. The four of us – Uwe, the yacht surveyor; Jan, the architect; Heiko, the epoxy guru; and me, the journalist – stand in the cockpit and marvelling at the view of the shimmering turquoise bay. Off we go in the dinghy to the highly recommended restaurant ‘Stasinos’. A good bottle of Santorini wine and a typical Greek meal: we ordered three or four starters and one or two main courses, which were placed on the table, and everyone helped themselves to everything. The frustration at the cancelled Peloponnese circumnavigation melts away. ‘Siga, Siga’ – slowly, slowly, or ‘take it easy’, as the Greeks say. We’ve arrived.
The next morning, we’re greeted by drizzle. Unusual for May. The weather had already been bad the week before. It turns out that a low-pressure system is literally stuck over the heel of Italy’s boot and has been repeatedly channelling miserable weather and wind into the Ionian Sea for weeks on end. Later, YACHT meteorologist Dr Michael Sachweh explains that this is due to climate change and the resulting slowdown in the jet stream. Whereas low-pressure systems used to pass over Italy in two, or at most three, days, they now sometimes linger in one place for weeks, weakening, filling with moisture, and deepening again. This is what recently caused the severe flooding in Emilia-Romagna. And ultimately, in 2021, the flooding in the Ahr Valley here too.
But at least the southerly wind is back. So we opt for the tough route: oilskins on, collars turned up, and out of the bay. Then, on the outside, west of Paxos, we set a southerly course, sailing close-hauled. The wind picks up, and at six or seven knots we fly past Paxos, Antipaxos and Lefkas at maximum height. After 55 miles in the rain, however, the decision is made: to plough on for another 160 nautical miles like this, including the risk of taking 50-knot gusts head-on, would be irresponsible. Especially as there are no safe harbours to take refuge in along the Peloponnese.
So we’re staying in the area and heading off to Assos on the west coast of Kefalonia. It’s one of those harbours that can only accommodate a handful of boats. When the wind is from the south, though, the harbour is perfect because it’s completely sheltered from the wind.
We are the third boat to arrive at the tiny, stone-strewn jetty. With a long mooring line at the stern, the rudder is secure – and so are we. Clouds are gathering, growing ever darker, clinging to the island’s steep mountain slopes and enveloping them as if in cotton wool. “It’s lovely sailing here in Scotland,” comments fellow sailor Uwe, the Greece novice on board. “But the landscape with the mountains – spectacular!” It’s a bit like sailing in the Alps, he thinks. And indeed, the cliffs rise steeply right in front of and behind the yacht. The harbour lies nestled as if in a volcanic crater.
The next morning, a glance at the weather makes it clear: we need to find a safe harbour, as the squalls are also sweeping across the central Ionian Sea. So off we go to Vathi on the island of Ithaca. There are a few moorings at the jetty there, where the gusts blow against the stern lines rather than sideways onto the anchor. In a storm, this can result in many anchors coming loose – and, as Murphy’s Law would have it, often at night – and nobody needs that. Sounds like a plan. No sooner said than done. The wind howls for a whole day. We use the time to tour the island in a hire car, sit in cafés and have a natter with the locals. They, too, say the weather has become more unpredictable.
Then finally, around midday on the third day: sunshine! The houses of the picturesque village of Vathi glow in pastel colours against the green mountainside, lining the bay as they gently wind their way round it. The wind is still blowing quite strongly from the south; the well-equipped Comet needs to be reefed. As we no longer need to sail close-hauled to the Peloponnese, we turn broad reach towards Meganisi. Our ‘Windforce’ doesn’t need much urging and gallops like a racehorse set free through gusts and waves. The log shows a top speed of 10.4 knots.
Jan, Uwe and Heiko’s grins grow wider. This is exactly how they’d imagined it. Pure sailing fun. And because it’s so quick and effortless, we’ll just round Meganisi and stop at the island village of Vathi in the tiny, immaculately maintained Odyseas Marina. However, the 70-euro mooring fee comes as a surprise; the Ionian Sea is usually cheaper. In no other harbour do we pay more than 20 to 30 euros for our 45-foot yacht.
“What, Vathi again?”, the crew wonder. Are the Greeks running out of names? The explanation is simple: in Greek, Vathi simply means ‘deep bay’. This description fits more than once in this vast archipelago. Consequently, there are ten places with this name across the country.
We stroll around the little harbour, where fishermen are still mending their nets and the restaurant owners greet us warmly. But what about those two enormous mega-yachts? It somehow looks as if an aircraft carrier has run aground – at least that’s what Jan says, as the architect responsible for the aesthetics. The proportions are simply all wrong compared to the tiny village and the other boats.
Aeolus has another surprise in store for the following day: the wind is finally set to shift to its usual summer direction – north. Until now, the spinnaker had been gathering dust in the locker. Why not try sailing to Zakynthos’s top attraction, the famous Wreck Bay, as our southern turning point? It’s more than 50 miles, but our boat is certainly fast.
And so we sail round Meganisi and into the strait between Kefalonia and Ithaca. This is known as a north-south wind tunnel and certainly lives up to its name. We start off gently, then make good progress sailing broad reach towards the south. But as heavy showers set in once again, we decide to stop in Sami. This town, which is still rather sleepy in May, is a popular starting point for a trip to the Melessani Caves. A good bakery is enough for us. We ask the baker why so many tavernas and shops are still closed at the start of May.
“It’s quite simple: we Greeks don’t open for the season until the weather is right. Normally, 1 May marks the start, but because of the storm and rain, many have spontaneously postponed it by a week!” It is this Mediterranean serenity that we lack. After all, they’re right.
But then, the next morning: glorious weather and a light northerly breeze. We hoist the spinnaker, and the boat glides beautifully at five to seven knots, seemingly out of nowhere. Ahead of us, a flotilla sets sail from the harbour of Poros, heading for the same destination as us. We quickly catch up with the last few boats and plough through the field of ‘roll-sailers’ as if they were standing still.
We sail round the northern tip of Zakynthos. Heiko spots a rather large turtle paddling near the surface. No wonder – Zakynthos is home to the Mediterranean’s most important turtle sanctuary in the south. A quick glance at the beautiful creature – you shouldn’t get too close for too long, as that causes the animals too much stress.
And then we’re already turning into Navagio Bay. The crew gaze in awe. Behind the bright, turquoise water, the freighter ‘Panagiotis’ – which ran aground in 1980 – lies carefully nestled in the sand. It lies there quietly rusting against the sheer rock faces. A surreal yet captivating sight. To this day, it’s not entirely clear how it ended up there. Up until now, the story has always been that it was a cigarette-smuggling vessel which the crew abandoned because the coastguard had got wind of the cargo and were in pursuit. The captain and crew then made a run for it, and the unmanned ship ran aground.
Recently, the captain – who still lives on Kefalonia – published his own account: according to him, they had only run aground at the time due to a technical fault, and the crew had managed to save themselves. When he returned to the scene of the wreck with the police a few days later, the freighter had already been plundered by beach raiders, and the equipment had been stripped away.
Much of it was later confiscated from local residents. The captain is trying to substantiate all this with court documents, but they are incomplete. Perhaps this is also because the court apparently ordered him to arrange for the ship to be salvaged – which would have deprived Zakynthos of its most important tourist attraction today. In short, the story will probably never be fully clarified. It is strange, however, that the man is only speaking out now. Regardless, the wreck is a fantastic attraction.
Others know this too; the bay is a tourist magnet. We drop anchor, go for a swim, and Heiko and Uwe swim over to the beach to take a look at the wreck of the freighter. But then a local excursion boat arrives, and the captain warns us: “You’re no longer allowed to drop anchor here or go ashore. The beach is closed this year because of a landslide in which tourists were injured! You’re only allowed to pop into the bay briefly to have a look.”
This is, in fact, confirmed later on. The authorities intend to look into measures to secure the steep slopes. Given the 200-metre-high vertical cliffs, this is likely to prove rather complicated.
The view is enough for us; the bay isn’t safe for overnight anchorage anyway, as it’s far too deep and rocky. So we head to the north-eastern side of Zakynthos, to Agios Nikolaos Bay. Behind a small offshore island lies a little harbour from which the excursion boats set off for Wreck Bay. Yachts can moor at a jetty, but a man in a RIB offers us one of four buoys in front of a small tavern. He quickly threads our lines through. Whilst swimming, we discover that concrete blocks on the seabed provide a secure foothold. Naturally, we end up at the tavern later on. With a view of the boat and the bay, we enjoy the evening sun.
However fast our boat may be, we must gradually start making our way back to Corfu. And so we head north to another highlight of the sailing area: Fiskardo on Kefalonia. Perhaps the most beautiful village on the whole island. In any case, it’s one of the few that wasn’t destroyed in the great earthquake of 1953. Back then, the island was devastated; nearly 1,000 people died, many villages were never rebuilt, and the inhabitants turned their backs on the island.
Yet Fiskardo has remained, and has been ever since, a gem of the area. I’ve been here countless times, each time with different sailing companions, and everyone has always been delighted. This time was no exception. Jan, Heiko and Uwe all agree: it’s an island paradise, especially in the evening, when the pastel-coloured houses still glow in the sunlight, the crews sit behind their yachts in the cafés and restaurants having a natter, and the tourists stroll along the harbour in their evening finery.
That is the beauty of the Ionian Sea: the next top destination is always just a stone’s throw away, the wind is usually gentle and predictable, and the natural landscape is lush thanks to the abundant rainfall in winter. Lemon and lime trees, bougainvillea, cypress bushes, trumpet trees and fig trees spring up everywhere. The variety is overwhelming. A destination for connoisseurs. There’s no need to rack up the miles – and somehow, it wouldn’t be quite right either. If you’re after action, you’ll have to head to the Aegean.
And so we, too, let the Ionian Sea heal the small scar of failure in our hearts and spend the next few days enjoying some proper island-hopping at its very best. We drop anchor against the mountainous backdrop of Kalamos. Swimming off tiny islets on Ithaca’s east coast, with its many wonderful anchorages such as Pera Pegadi or near Kioni. Heading for the fjord-like harbour of Gaios on Paxos. It never gets boring, even though I’ve been here so many times.
As we sail into Gouvia, though, my heart skips a beat for a moment – after all, we hadn’t actually intended to see this harbour again. Later, we meet the owner, Andrea, and her husband Ulli at the jetty. “Don’t worry, lads, we’ll just have to do the Peloponnese next time!” Let’s have an ouzo to celebrate! Or no, let’s settle instead for an Assyrtiko from Santorini, along with dinner in the beautiful old town of Corfu. And as the crowning finale to a sailing trip, it’s a more than worthy backdrop.
Direct flight to Corfu or Lefkada (Preveza). If you want to set off straight from the sailing area, choose Lefkada – ideal for a week’s trip. If you have more time or don’t mind longer legs, set off from Corfu. The travel agency Flights and More KT-Reisedienst, run by Christian Lambert in Nuremberg, provides excellent advice; for years it has been a proven specialist in meeting the needs and sometimes complex requirements of charter crews worldwide: TELEPHONE 0911/486 45 85, WWW.FLIGHTS-AND-MORE.COM
We were sailing on a Comet 45 S from the Odysseus Yachting charter fleet. This cruiser/racer is only suitable for experienced sailors. Cost: 2,900 to 6,400 euros depending on the season. Alternatively, there are many fleets based in Corfu, Lefkada or Palairos. Information and bookings:WWW.BARBERA-YACHTING.DE
In summer, north-westerly to westerly winds build up during the day, reaching 3 to 4 Bft. They die down again around 6 pm. In spring and autumn, south-westerly to south-easterly winds prevail, with periods of calm in between. From mid-September and in spring until early May, low-pressure systems occasionally bring storms.
A few full-service marinas (Corfu, Lefkada, Preveza, Meganisi), otherwise simpler town harbours. Mooring with a bow anchor and stern lines. Water and electricity available at the berth, but sanitary facilities are rare. Very low harbour fees, around 20 to 30 euros for a 45-foot vessel.
A. Fritsch: “Ionian Sea Charter Guide: From Corfu to Zakynthos”, Edition Maritim, 26.90 euros. This handy book lists the top destinations and provides route recommendations. Alternatively: the substantial 643-page work *Greek Coasts* by R. and L. Heikell, priced at 69.90 euros, delius-klasing.de. Charts: Imray’s ‘Greece G11 and 12’ and Eagle Ray’s ‘Greece Sea Guide III’.
If you fancy a bit of culture, you can visit the summer palace of the Austrian Empress Elisabeth, ‘Sissi’, on Corfu. Perched high up with a fantastic view over the sea and the island, featuring a magnificent colonnade and statues, the building is a major tourist attraction. Sailors stop off on Corfu’s east coast near the village of Benitses, which has a small marina. Find a berth there or drop anchor. It’s then about two kilometres on foot to the palace, the ‘Achilleion’. Alternatively, take a taxi. The Empress was a passionate fan of Corfu and named the house after the legendary warrior Achilles. The magnificent palace, with its private belongings and furnishings, complete with a large garden, is well worth a visit. It has been closed since October 2022 for renovation work; please check before you travel to see if it has reopened: WWW.ACHILLION-CORFU.GR
If you fancy a trip ashore, you can take a taxi or hire a moped from Sami or Effimia to visit the Melessani Caves: an underground lake in a grotto whose roof has collapsed. Head there around midday, when the sun shines down into the cave and the lake glows a deep blue! You’ll be rowed through the cave in a boat. These sort of jaunts on mopeds or hire cars are also a great way to explore the islands – from the mountains you get fantastic views of the area!

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