EXTRACTS FROM THE PURSERS LOG VOYAGE OF THE DAFT, THE DEMENTED AND THOSE WHO HAD NOTHING BETTER TO DO.
Arrival 9th May 2004 We arrive in a burst of enthusiasm, expecting sunshine and smiles. The rain was most unfortunate so in an effort to bolster spirits, we retired to the most convenient taverna on the marina.
Suitably enlivened by drink and having been told by our skipper “the Wondrous Steve” that the boat was ready and waiting, we went immediately to the restaurant. It was an obvious thing to do as the restaurant was next door to the taverna.
It has to be remembered that the really serious sailing fraternity have a legend by which they live. If you drink and eat enough this will make the rain and bad weather go away.
So having eaten and drunk almost enough, Wondrous Steve and his crew made a carefully calculated decision that in spite of the weather they would sail to Nidri. This was not an easy decision to make because the shops were shut so the brave “WS” and his indomitable crew had no provisions. No food and no water was acceptable, but no alcohol? This was unheard of and many hardened sailors would say absolute folly.
But off they went, there was a rousing cheer from their supporters and onlookers and a few wise heads being shaken sagely. What, however, those on shore had forgotten was that “WS” had purloined one precious bottle of wine.
Now according to the navigational wizards, Nidri was only about 8 miles away, an hour and a half of easy sailing.
Out through the narrow channel crept the boat and ultimately to the open sea. As with all sailing journeys, the way was wet, but as the legend had foretold the eating and drinking had caused the rain to subside and the salty waters to calm down.
“WS” and his intrepid crew pushed on when all of a sudden they found themselves in un-chartered water. They appeared lost. The instruments went haywire and the trusty GPS still thought it was in the Solent.
The wheel was given to Seaman Stan, who steered ahead with a steady hand. Wondrous Steve and Valiant Victor studied the charts with zeal. The wine (only one bottle) was passed around and everyone tried to ease the tension. Meanwhile Seaman Stan steered onward, trusting in the guidance of his fearless skipper Wondrous Steve.
Suddenly through a narrow channel the ship went and it opened out into the large bay of Nidri. A cheer went up. But where to moor. The natives were not encouraging and finding a spot was not easy. Wondrous Steve took over the helm and with measured skill threaded his way to a safe mooring.
Skipper and crew all relaxed. The boat was moored up and everyone stepped on dry land, eager for food and drink.
Nidri proved to be a delight to one and all. Provisions galore and a variety of eating establishments for the evening meal. Again to give credit to the legend, the Wondrous Steve and his intrepid crew both ate and drank to make sure that there was to be no more rain. To keep the crew going the Wondrous Steve would drink at least two beverages for each one that his crew took. The evening meal in Nidri was merry, but uneventful. There was, however, one thing of note. Wondrous Steve picked a meal that left the crew full of fear and admiration. His first course was “Big Beans”. Now this he took to help fill the sails the following day, but the crew, especially Luscious Louise had to await the results that night. I can, however report the Luscious Louise emerged the next day unharmed.
Second Day
Morning came and with it the sunshine. Wondrous Steve and his crews eating and drinking had scared away the rains and the demons.
Seaman Stan was first on deck. He looked about him in an unfamiliar harbour. All experienced seaman have an inbuilt sense of self-preservation. There was to Seaman Stan an unmistakable whiff of the luxury of land and in particular the scent of freshly baked bread.
Leaving the exhausted crew to rest, Seaman Stan went off in search of breakfast and food for the rest of them. He returned suitably provisioned to find that Valiant Vic and Active Anthony already up and about. It was decided to serve Wondrous Steve and the Luscious Louise breakfast in bed in the hope of gaining further favours from both WS and LL.
WS emerged from his cabin and barked his orders to make ready the boat. The crew got ready the lines and the days hard sailing began, but Seaman Stan had a surprise for all the crew, he produced from an unused tin of Janneau Cognac the ships new mascot, Polly the Parrott! To the glee of the crew Polly was fixed to her place of honour and the crew relaxed. 
The ship was set for a course to Fiscardo on the Isle of Cephallonia. All was set for an easy sail. The sun was shining, the winds steady and the storms of the previous day seemed to have disappeared. Clearly however the crew had not eaten and drunk enough to dispel the weather legend. Within 10 minutes of the start, the wind blew up and the sea started a heavy swell. The boat was being buffeted from side to side and the crew wrestled with the sails and sheets whilst a force 8 wind blew.
Valiant Victor was at the helm, and under the direction of Wondrous Steve they tried to steady the boat. The swell got bigger, the wind got stronger and the crew grew tired. For hours they struggled to keep the boat on course, the blistered hands a sure tell tale sign of constant struggle. The clouds grew darker, the rain threatened and the crew became nervous, but Pugnacious Polly stuck firmly to her perch. She and the crew battled on. Hours later (the crew going without food and drink) the boat, the crew and Polly, exhausted but safe, steered into harbour at Fiscardo.
The safe haven of the bay offered welcome shelter. Immediately spirits revived and the crew made ready to visit the nearest hostelry. All were eager to have their feet touch dry land and their throats the golden liquid of the local Retsina.
Various exploratory trips were made, but Active Anthony went in search of two wheeled transport to explore the land.
Each reported back to Wondrous Steve as to the location of the various provisions. Other boats from the flotilla arrived and a warm up drinks session was held on CHARLIE I. All crews feeling sufficiently inebriated they then retired to a local taverna for substantial sustenance and drink. They were greeted with cheers from the locals and Rick the Spik from the taverna came out to meet them in his white dress uniform. The crew ate and drank heartily, speeches of congratulations made and all went away suitably replenished.
That night Wondrous Steve and his crew played the game of mental cruelty called “Name that Tune”. It was torture for all and more drink was needed. Stoic Sefton ran screaming to his bunk and the others did not last much longer. The rest of the night was peaceful.
The Third Day
The crew was up bright and early the next day. The first area of concern was breakfast. In order to pacify the crew Seaman Stan made French Toast for all. It was difficult at first because the French toaster could not be found. Nevertheless the meal was made and served. However three of the crew did not partake, so Seaman Stan got the benefit of their rations too. It was a heavier Stan that got up from the table.
When all were back on board the ship set sail for the port of Vathi. The sun was out and all looked well from the innards of the harbour. The crew were not to know that just 2 miles away a storm was brewing.
With a half hour the wind was again blowing a force 7/8. The sea was choppy and the footsteps of the crew unsteady. Seasickness was rife, but Wondrous Steve wanted to test his trusty crew to the hilt. He wanted to practice M.O.B. (man overboard).
He was about to push a member overboard, but this day the sea Gods were with the crew. Wondrous Steve lifted his hand from the sea chart to push in an unwitting crewman, and in so doing let go of the sea chart. This caused the sea chart to be blown from the deck table to the sea. So MOB became COB (chart overboard). The crew rapidly pulled down the sails and the ship came about. Try as they might the chart just floated further and further away. Disaster !! they were now going to have to navigate by the stars. The chart had gone, despite several attempts.
Lunch was called for SS and LL prepared a banquet of fish, salads, cheese, bread and wine. The fish, fresh from the sea (via the tin) and the salads bought that morning. The crew ate and drank rapidly but heartily, and the boat kept going.
More sailing and eventually they reached the harbour of Vathi, but the natives here were unfriendly and at first it was difficult to moor, but a spot was found across the bay among some friendlies and the boat came to rest.
The first thing to be done was alcoholic refreshment. A nearby hostelry was found and WS and his crew refreshed themselves with the fruit of the hop and the vine.
It was here that Active Anthony came into his own. He requisitioned a motor bike and started to explore the town. The others went and explored the immediate area, looking for cleaning facilities. It must be remembered that this was the third day and no decent latrines had been discovered. The odour below was turning sour. However the crews efforts and even those of AA were un-rewarded, but a good hostelry was found for dinner.
After dinner the crew retired to the ship, but another attempt at spot that tune was just as painful. A few card tricks were shown, but bed beckoned all after a very demanding day.
Day Four
Vathi was an uninspiring port, so the crew moved on quickly. The idea was to travel to Calamos via a lunch stop at One House Bay and rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.
The weather was clear, sunnier and more sedate. The sea calm and apart from their strangely sour smell, the crew felt content.
An uneventful cruise to One House Bay and all was well. The crew in good humour. WS being generous with the grog and the ship leading the pack of three, thanks to WS’s superior sailing skills. They anchored safely and quietly in the bay.
LL and SS prepared a sumptuous feast of vegetables and cheese omelettes, salad, fresh bread and more grog. Indeed the food was so good, others came calling to sample it, but they went away disappointed. AA and LL went for a swim and then it was time to go onward to Calamos.
Calamos had a reputation of unfriendly locals so the crew prepared for a struggle to dock. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Harbour mate George ran out to meet them, guided them in and cleared spaces for the rest of the fleet. An exploration of the town and it was revealed that there were no shops to plunder. The crew were now realising that momentos had to be brought back to England to prove the journey and time was running out. However, the locals on Calamos had nothing to plunder and so it meant more eating and drinking.
George laid a table for all the fleet. Toasts were drunk and eating began. A gargantuan meal and again WS was liberal in allowing the crew to drink away. It must be remembered that some of the crew were growing homesick for their loved ones. This affected their ability to perform. The grog helped them forget.
Day Five or FTBH
Bright and early, about 11.00am the crew in jolly mood, (after breakfasting ashore at Madam Panis) and one or two clutching a bad head, the captain set sail for Palairos. The weather was inclement, the crew tired from heavy sailing and WS realised that all needed a rest. For once the crew were given a short 2½ hour sail to Palairos. They docked there for lunch. However on arrival the bay was already full and the natives were protecting their territory. Winding carefully through anchor chains, WS brought the good ship CHARLIE III to a safe haven and the crew disembarked for grog and exploration.
A grogery was found in the centre of town run by the innkeeper Stavros. A friendly man and clearly, by the size of his belly hanging over his belt, a sampler of his wife’s cooking, and by the fact of his flies being constantly open a sampler of the local women who came to his inn. The cigarette dangling from his mouth helped disguise his bad breath.
The crew felt immediately at home in his company. The grog was good and the moussaka even better. There was talk of gun running from a table nearby and this made WS feel more in tune with the place.
After lunch the crew split up to roam for plunder, but the town itself was bereft of trophies so an exploration for an evening meal was made.
In the meantime, the rest of the fleet were due in. The bay was full but arrangements made to squeeze them in. CHARLIE I came in first. It was a swirling breeze and a tight space. They laid anchor, but alas it got caught in the chain of a native. They raised anchor and the natives chain would not let go. The crew wrestled with the problem, using a boat hook. Eventually the chain was freed but in so doing the boat hook was lost. When pointed out by a native a cry of “fuck the boat hook” went up from CHARLIE I. This will now become the fleets password.
Lodgings for dinner was found for all 16 and LL and SS were offered a shower together. Now SS was sorely tempted but he knew this would not be allowed by WS so to kill his ardour he took a cold shower.
Dinner that night was merry but uneventful and the crew retired to bed.
Day 6
Nobody felt like breakfast so the crew set sail really early by 10.30am. The heading was for Sivota, but via Sparticairy. The winds were weak and the seas were calm, the crew were bored and Luscious Louise became a dangerous distraction. WS kept a watchful eye on the crew and as a distraction issued more grog, but the rumblings went on and the winds still held back. WS decided to use the iron sail to speed the passage and the crew went forward to lunch to Sparticairy.
They were welcomed at the port by Costa who steered them in and they moored bow to with Lazy Lines on each side. Lunch was unexciting but the grog kept flowing.
WS noticed a mountain climb into the town above and led the crew upwards and 
onwards. They climbed ever up and arrived at a sleepy hamlet. A deserted hostelry gave them drink and the crew started downwards. Once on the ship the crew set sail for Sivotha.
By now the winds were up and the seas were stormy. The ship sailed close hauled on a starboard tack, but AA needed to visit the heads. Alas the sea cocks had not been closed, the ship keeled over to 90°. The window was not shut. AA doing a standing pee was shocked. Water came in from the window and up the toilet and through the sink. AA hung on for dear life, but got soaked in the process. Clothes and tackle and goods went flying, but again with VV at the helm and WS directing operations, the crew brought matters under control.
The wind suddenly dropped and eventually the boat limped in to the dock at Sivota. However docking at Sivota was a problem. As the stern of the boat neared to the dock SS was ready to leap to the land with the lines. He was about to jump when the anchor chain caught. The boat momentarily stopped, but SS was committed to his leap, or fall into the sticky mire below. He dived for the quay. Face down he got there but dropped the rope. This neared the propeller. However he rescued it quickly, despite his injuries and all was well. Immediately the crew retired to the grogery.
Day 7
The crew set sail to meet up with the rest of the fleet at Little Vathi. The weather was not helpful and the crew restless again. Contact was made with the fleet and it was agreed to meet up at 13.45.
They picked up the other boats on the way, friendly racing began and it was clear that WS and his crew always had the upper hand. Try as they might the others were no match for the superior sailing skills of CHARLIE III.
Everyone moored for lunch and a water canon fight began. WS and his crew discovered that CHARLIE I had sent a foraging party the night before and had stolen their weapons. They were at the mercy of the others, but food and drink acted as a bribe and they were safe.
The crew then left and set sail again for the home town of Lefkas. After a week of being pushed to the limit by WS both the crew and the boat were exhausted. Even the weather seemed to have blown its last and no longer filled the sails. The iron sail was set again and the final passage to Lefkas was completed.
They threaded their way up the channel to port and it was a weary crew that came to rest and broke out the grog at 19.30. devoid of plunder but full of memories.
Stanley Saffer
Ionian Flotilla 2004