Writings

Somewhere in the Aegean

Some notes from a six-day sailing trip across the Aegean Sea.

Our full passage from Seferihisar to Athens — 231 nautical miles over six days

I grew up in İzmir, but learned to sail in the Netherlands, so this trip gave me a chance to explore some of the islands across from my hometown for the first time. We set sail on a Dufour 525 Grand Large. There were six of us on board, and we covered around 231 nautical miles.

This trip was more of a vacation than a sailing course. Our passage plan involved a lot of improvisation, and I had to sit with the discomfort of not knowing what might change. There wasn’t a clear plan for which islands we were going to visit; we decided along the way. On the other hand, this matched the Mediterranean vibe quite well.

Morning sun rising through the rigging at Teos Marina, Turkish flag at the spreader

We spent the first night at Teos Marina and had dinner at a small fish place just outside the marina. The food was, of course, delicious. Because of the warm weather, I slept on deck, and it turned out I was the only one in the crew who liked waking up with the morning sun. In fact, I slept on deck most nights because of the warm weather and the clear, starry skies.

The first leg was from Teos Marina to Samos. The passage to Samos was nice, and the crew members started getting to know each other. There wasn’t much wind, so we had to motor most of the way. My main responsibility was to stay at the helm and keep us on course. Samos was a charming little island. I had a chance to swim, but I missed dinner, and after midnight it was hard to find something to eat because most places had already closed their kitchens.

The leg from Samos to Fournoi — 35 nautical miles across the Icarian Sea

After a calm passage from Samos, we arrived on the island of Fournoi. There wasn’t much wind, so we were mostly under engine, but I fell in love with both the passage and the island itself. The geography along the way was inspiring. The moment we set foot on Fournoi, the leisurely Mediterranean island lifestyle kicked in.

Afternoon sun glittering on a calm sea, seen through the shrouds Hazy evening light over the Icarian Sea, headlands fading into the distance Looking over the bow at anchor, between the bare hills of Fournoi

First of all, we were really hungry after the passage, and it didn’t take us long to find the best place in town. We had a long dinner and good discussions with the crew. Of course, we ordered more than we could eat because everything was delicious. Afterwards, we started exploring the island.

Around midnight, there was a family gathering outside a small tavern, playing rebetiko with a bouzouki. They invited us to join them, poured us drinks, shared their food, and kept singing. Of course, we had to join in too :). This was a really special moment. I even collected a new word that night: σιγά σιγά.

Towards 4 a.m., people slowly started leaving the table one by one. That wasn’t the end of the night for me, though. After such a special night, I sobered up with a short swim in the sea!

The sun setting exactly behind a whitewashed chapel on a hilltop The harbour front of Fournoi — “Welcome to Fourni Korseon” painted along the quay The taverna table towards midnight — bottles, bouzouki and rebetiko under string lights

After Fournoi, we anchored in a small bay across from Mykonos. Staying at anchor gave us some time and space to enjoy both the sea and the beautiful sunset. Of course, six strangers sharing a confined space isn’t always easy. Some get into conflicts, some mind their own business, and the crew’s attitude shapes the atmosphere on deck. As the days passed, one couple’s frustration with the trip became more visible.

For me, the anchorage was mostly about reading my book, İnsan Olmak by Engin Geçtan. This was the only night I had to sleep in my cabin, as there was quite a breeze at anchor.

The sun dropping behind the hills of our anchorage across Mykonos

In the morning, we left the anchorage and sailed towards Syros. The passage was super nice because we were able to sail on a close reach in winds of up to 30 knots, with stronger gusts.

The leg to Syros — 19 nautical miles from our anchorage by Rineia to Ermoupoli

By the time we reached Syros, everyone was mentally tired. It became clear that not everyone had joined the trip with the same expectations. One couple decided to leave the boat in Syros, so we continued the rest of the trip as a crew of four.

I personally liked Syros a lot because the food in this town was amazing. I found the restaurant Seminario, where they serve lamb shank. It was really tender and soft. I also tried the octopus and baklava cheesecake (this was surprisingly good).

A shaded alley in Ermoupoli — pastel taverna chairs under the bougainvillea Octopus with beans at Seminario The surprisingly good baklava cheesecake, with blueberries and honey

Passage to Kythnos

The next day, the plan was to sail to Kea, but on the way we received a thunderstorm warning and changed course to Kythnos. It had a protected bay with a small port, and we were lucky enough to find a spot.

This side of the island had only a few restaurants, a bakery, and a thermal spring. While I was trying to feel the thermal water by putting one foot in, one of my sandals slipped off and disappeared :D. I had to wander around with only one sandal for the rest of the walk.

On the other hand, this was the calmest island we had stopped at so far. I really enjoyed sitting on this bench and watching the horizon.

Bench at Kythnos

For the last leg of our trip, we sailed from Kythnos to Lavrio. The sea was rougher that day, and I spent most of the passage at the helm. By then, I felt noticeably more comfortable steering than I had at the beginning of the trip.

From Lavrio, I flew back to Amsterdam, where familiar weather welcomed me.

Back to reality.

Back at Schiphol — KLM tails under a familiar grey sky