As if we needed proof that we were visiting one of the world’s poorest countries, the 1 hour bus journey from Suakin to Port Sudan was an eye-opener I’ll never forget.
Until I was 33 I never had any heroes. I’ll admit I did idolise The Six Million Dollar Man when I was seven, but that was because he looked like my dad, or so I thought. Apart from The Bionic Man I was never one for hero-worship.
In 2003 I set sail across The Bay of Biscay. I began the journey armed with horror stories of this treacherous sea and so to ease my way across this 300 mile stretch of water I began reading Ellen MacArthur’s autobiography, “Taking On The World”. Reading about the fastest woman ever to circumnavigate the globe, on her own, whilst I motored across what turned out to be a flat calm mill-pond made for very inspirational reading…
So, you’ve just paid a small fortune to enter the the Royal Mummy room at the Egyptian Museum, where you are asked to be quiet and not take photos. Your camera has been left outside the museum in a secure place because you are not allowed to bring it in. What do you do? You take out your phone and flash away at these ancient mummified people, who are kept at carefully regulated moisture, temperature and lighting levels to stop them decomposing. You are an idiot.
Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise: the Pyramids do not disappoint. Far from it. Even through jaded eyes and lifelong over-worked symbolism they are magnificent, other-worldly, splendidly breath-taking. Jamie photographed them from every angle, while I tried to imagine what the area would have looked like during its prime, with the white limestone glistening interiors of the Pyramids intact.
Liz and I then wandered around town taking snaps and racing the ATM machines to get money. Having failed to withdraw cash from these machines in the last couple of days we were told that we had not been using the machines correctly. The trick is to be as quick as possible in pressing the buttons. Procrastinate for a split second and the machine will display a random message like “main server offline”, “unable to process your request” or “no spare cash left in Egypt”. Weird.
In this, the last of our photography features of our winter home town, we feature the ‘Old Boys Of Fethiye’. This little project happened by accident. I was just cycling around, minding my own business, when I came across this cafe full of old boys. When I asked the waiter if it was ok to take some snaps of the old men playing board games he said not only was this ok, but it was expected. Boy could these guys pull some poses! Possibly my fave photography project to date.
Some of our readers have never been sailing before, whilst others have been cruising for so long they’ve forgotten what it was like the first time the sails catch the wind and that boat heels over to an unnervingly impossible angle.
So what’s it like to go sailing for the first time? And what’s it like to go sailing in a country many thousands of miles from the comfort of your home when you are afflicted with panic attacks, a phobia of flying and sea sickness?
We continue our features on Fethiye: littered with great photographs our guest blogger, Tim, offers you a truly honest and philosophical account of a land-lubber’s impressions of sailing, Fethiye and the effects of Diazepam.
Experience the panic setting in here:
http://www.followtheboat.com/index.php/2009/04/14/more-than-an-experience-a-conquest/
Fethiye is very definitely a ‘working’ town, despite its attraction for both tourists and yotties alike. There is an abundance of restaurants and cafes if you’re just wanting to relax or dine out. If you’re working on your boat or your house then you are spoiled for choice when it comes to shops, suppliers and repairs.
I’ve tried to capture this sense of work with a little photography project I’ve titled ‘Fethiye At Work’.
Tags: electronics, fethiye, market, photographs, photography, sanayi, shop, shopping, stainless, wood
Category: observation
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In this feature we take a light-hearted look at shopping in Turkey. We examine the customs, the expectations and the heartache. Somewhere in the article are a few tips, but don’t take it too seriously.
Tags: beer, market, shop, shopping, supermarket, tansas, tea, turkey, wine
Category: observation
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It is with great sadness that we announce the tragic death of Christer Klingwall, owner and skipper of ‘Lady Jessie’, who took his own life last Monday, 20th April.
We would like to pay our respects to our sailing buddy by posting up some pictures and thoughts on followtheboat, which featured Christer in our last video clip. Mayke, Christer’s ex-wife with whom he remained close, said ‘Christer would love the idea of a tribute’. This article, then, will be a continually updated and amended page dedicated to a great sailor. If you would like to add your own comment, thought or photograph then please either use the comments form at the end of the article or email us.
My first and only experience with sailing boats arrived at the age of twelve in Bognor Regis. It was a school trip and involved myself and some unruly pals sprawling ourselves across a tiny single sailed yacht. The thing with kids is, you tell them something ten times and they don’t listen, what they actually need is the experience of something bad before they know not to do something ever again.
I am lying on a bed in my childhood room in my parent’s house, however this time I am not having a panic attack. My mind fills with memories of warmth, comfort, beauty, adventure, good food, marine life, ancient ruins, vibrant colours, culture, national pride, hard work and above all experience.
Gocek is one of those places that thrives on tourism, particularly boats, to the point where it appears to have taken the soul from the place. The market is local enough and is well worth a visit to stock up on essential fruit and veg. The marina, however, is littered with luxury yachts, coloured lights, a promenade and the usual cafes and restaurants pushing their chairs and tables into your path.
It does, thank Neptune, and when we reach Gocek, we anchor up some 50 yards from the pontoon and board “Tinker”, a dinghy that has seen better days. Why is it though, that when men get into a dinghy or a canoe, they feel as though they have to paddle like the clappers to reach their destination? Everything on water is a race, I call it the “Columbus Effect”.
I only see him move once, and this was to pass us the bill. He limps his huge mass towards us and smiles through toad-like eyes. I imagine he is probably very good friend with James Bond, he seems to know everybody and things seemed to work around him to his satisfaction – whether this is down to wealth, culture or bloody hard work, I do not know, what I do know is it looks like a good life.
Tags: fethiye, food, historical, lizard, market, tortoise
Category: meeting new people, observation
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Short of trudging through somebody’s garden, we decide to descend, only to be stopped by two traditionally dressed women who insist on giving us directions. It turns out that a set of steps which were guarded by a charming black Labrador were in fact the correct route and we soon find ourselves onwards and upwards. Even the dogs here are friendly.
Today is my wife’s birthday, but I am not celebrating. I am lying on a bed, in my childhood room, in my parent’s house having a panic attack. My palms are sweating, my neck is tightening, my pulse is racing, I want to run, I want to hide.
Pubs, beer and good paintbrushes vs good food, space and great climate. Which would you prefer? My extended trip back to the UK has been a real eye-opener but I frequently caught myself saying things like ‘it’s not like that in Turkey’. I can’t help it. I’ve made Turkey my temporary home but I’ve just spent a month back at my parents, in the bedroom I grew up in, and I quickly became British again. Now I’m returning to Turkey and I can’t help but compare and contrast. It’s an interesting exercise, but which is better? Turkey or England?
We decided to head next door to Hassan’s, where we were looking forward to meeting the owner. Oh boy, did we meet the owner. I’m not sure if he had got out of bed the wrong side, if he’d just had some terrible news, or if he’d taken an instant dislike to us but he was the most unpleasant man we have met in Turkey. The exchange went something like this…
Tags: anchorage, food, gumusluk, kas, photographs, photography, restaurant, turkey
Category: observation, rucks
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You’ll also get confused by the fact that none of the borders are sign-posted. One minute you’re driving along, minding your own business, admiring the view, and next you’ve driven into a checkpoint barrier. Probably manned by an angry Greek police officer.
Contrasts again. The richly self-indulgent road south of the line turns into a dusty careworn main road on the Turkish Cypriot side. No Starbucks, Top Shop or McDonalds to be found here. Stepping off the main drag we are in a monstrous slum of poverty and wasteland.
The once garish colours are now reduced to a uniform greyness; a 1970s monochrome war torn news report from the BBC frozen in time. The roads are strewn with detritus and weeds grow uninterrupted up through the asphalt and concrete, cocking a snook at man’s feeble attempt to control nature.
It’s a most startling and incongruous sight. In fact I found it impossible to suppress a slightly hysterical giggle at what had happened to this old monument to Catholicism. (During later sight-seeing forays I saw other, similarly changed, monuments of Christian worship, all of which triggered this irrepressible giggle.)
Famagusta is in the north of the island. Well, most of it is. Quite a large part of it is now sectioned off with barbed wire walls behind which can be seen the eerie no-man’s land of skeletal hotels, tumble-weed roads and literal urban decomposition…
We continued down the coast and past our ultimate destination of Monastery Bay and on towards a lunchtime anchorage we’ve named Crowded Bay. Should have named it ‘Twats In Motorboats’ Bay. Basically it was carnage, with everyone dropping their anchor wherever they wanted. Extra points were awarded for laying one’s chain over another.
Tags: anchorage, anchoring, cyprus, fouled anchor, motor boat, rally, stinkpot
Category: observation
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As sure as eggs is eggs after WWI, when the Young Turks had foolishly backed the wrong side and lost, the Brits took total control of this strategically important piece of land, and in 1925 Britain formerly declared the island a crown colony. There was much dancing and celebrating in the street at this turn of events (I jest). This is an excerpt from Liz’s excellent introduction to Cyprus.
This is also where the paragliders land and hours can be spent watching their graceful sails catch the thermals. They land on the ‘marina’ strip, which is worth a mention. In our pilot guide the author says “At the time of writing work is proceeding slowly on the construction of the marina”, the text of which is accompanied by a photo of the unfinished marina. He states that he was given a completion date of 2001. Well, it’s 2008 and the ‘marina’ looks exactly like your photograph from 10 years ago!
This is a family-run affair and chatting to the owner in pigeon-Turglish, which, surprisingly, with a few hand gestures, actually makes for an engaging conversation, I discover that his mother has lived on the island for 40 years. I didn’t ever catch his name but his wife, who looks as young as their daughter, is Yesim (pron Yey-shim). She speaks enough English to be undertood. Your lines, should you tie up to the jetty, will probably be taken by her 9 year old nephew. Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing!
One of the things you may have read about Fethiye is the fish market, where a centrally placed building allows you to choose your own fish, either fresh or imported. Get them to gut it and then take it to one of the surrounding restaurants. It offers a novel and cheap way of eating fresh fish but I have to say I was disappointed in the way in which the fish is cooked.
There is a place where one takes the tender when going ashore. Normally one ties up and goes about their business with no hassle from the locals. Alas one particular restaurateur got annoyed at the number of yotties tying up to his fence, and then walking through his restaurant without imbibing the obligatory beer. Fair enough, you might comment, but as a reaction to this the manager has now put up signs by the fence, which isn’t his as it turns out, saying ‘Guests only’.
Boyzone Buku, as we like to call it, is the perfect location to use as your base. With holding like glue and endless water supplies from the local spring we found this spot to be a little haven. What makes this place special is the fresh-water spring that has created a near temperate local climate of lush deciduous trees and paths littered with basil and mint plants.
As we get to know Turkey a bit better so we are able to make some judgements on places we have visited as yotties. One thing that really sticks out when comparing this area to anywhere north of here is just how busy it can get. It’s one thing I’m not really able to get my head around as we’re used to anchorages with one or two other boats as neighbours, not entire flotillas of gullets and party boats!
Fethiye, named after a WW1 pilot who had the misfortune to crash into the local mountain range, was pretty much destroyed in the same earthquake that flattened Marmaris in 1958. Unlike Marmaris, however, this new-looking town isn’t ruined by the loud bars, gulet-full of lobster Brits-abroad puking up at every street corner, or aggressive stall-holders.
There are a number of factors that go to make this one to remember: the views back out onto Gocek bay, dwarfed by the misty mountains beyond; the great holding; the restaurant ashore, run by the same family for the last fifteen years; and the fact there is a natural well that supplies yotties with a constant stream of mountain water.
Regular readers of FTB will be familiar with the term ‘The Black Hole of Marmaris’, a term invented to describe the fate of the majority of boats who enter the bay and never leave, for one reason or another. Well, we’ve finally done it: Esper has left the building!
Tags: fethiye, göcek, liveaboards, marmaris, photographs, skopia, turkey
Category: observation
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The tables turned a little, however, when the back-end of the front we were avoiding stirred up the waters and caused a little chop. Stanley’s classic ‘wow, big waves’ comment won’t be forgotten in a hurry. He was commenting on 1m swells, bless him. It was fun for a while.
The next day was another early start and after a big Turkish breakfast served in the garden under fruit trees we set off for Didyma. We found our way there quite quickly and once again arrived before the official opening time and before anyone else. What can I say about Didyma? The site dates back to 8th century BC, but the ruined temple seen now is of 4th century BC origin.
The stadium, which seats 30,000 people, left us both speechless. The two agoras, temples, palaces, colonnaded palaestra, odeum, bath houses and other structures kept us absorbed, but again, it was the theatre that charmed us. It has been built in one of the two bronze age mounds found on the site and is in great condition, with carved names on some of the seats and an impressive throne-style chair in the middle of the front row.
It is difficult to choose a “best bit” because the city as a whole works so well, but the theatre takes some beating. Situated near the top of the ridge, with views looking steeply down across the valley for miles and miles it seats 12,000 people.
Over the Spring of 2008 I decided to take some portraits of the people associated with sailing here in Marmaris, Turkey. Of the 100 or so original portraits a few stood out as being quite striking, so I produced this little montage.
Now I wouldn’t want you to think that we’ve been up to nothing but do-gooding these past weeks… Those of you that know us will be relieved to hear that there has been the usual amount of getting-up-to-mischief and having fun too! Now, where to start?
Tags: fancy dress, hallowe'en, marina, marmaris, party, turkey
Category: boat maintenance, observation, video clips
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Finally, after weeks of preparing his boat for a solo voyage down the Red Sea and into the Indian Ocean at a difficult time of the year, Sam recruited a new crew member! Poppy, of s/y ‘Free’, agreed to join Sam for the majority of the journey. Poppy writes beautifully and contributes to the progress log, as well as helping Sam through a difficult journey. As I write this they have passed through the Suez Canal and already sent a number of updates and pictures
Tags: chagos, chagoss, marina, marmaris, people's navy, turkey
Category: observation, rants
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After one month of going live the site has received over 250 pledges, been translated into French, received 40,000 hits (or 4,000 unique users) and will be translated into German, Turkish and possibly Spanish. If you would like to get involved in translating into a language, please do get in touch with us.
Tags: chagos, chagossian, marina, marmaris, people's navy, turkey, website
Category: observation
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Sam, bless him, had only expected five or ten people to turn up and really hadn’t prepared himself to explain why he was doing what he was doing in front of so many people. He moved the audience with his story and had to field some difficult questions. Some were uncertain of the whole point of Sam’s quest, which, in simple terms, was to bring about awareness of the Chagossian’s plight and eventually help get some Chagossian’s back to their islands.
Tags: chagos, chagossian, jon pilger, marina, marmaris, people's navy, turkey
Category: observation
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Under the 30-year rule documents from the FCO show us all the facts, and oh dear me, how those documents reveal Britain’s jaded and cynical viewpoint of the world. Those 1960s Sir Humphreys** describe the islanders as “mere Tarzans and Men Fridays” with “little aptitude for anything except growing coconuts”. They wrote that “there will be no indigenous population except seagulls”. The deportations would be “ordered and timed to attract the least attention”. They connived with the Americans to label the islanders as “migrant contract labourers” with no right of abode – even though their families had lived there for generations.
I lowered myself down the companion-way and eased myself into what could only be described as a log cabin. Every bit of the boat was covered in reclaimed wood and other materials. The shelves came from his home in Devon and the stove had been chucked out as trash. The centre-piece, however, was the compression post (the post that follows the mast down into the boat). It was a piece of English oak that was to be used for a wooden boat reconstruction project that had fallen on hard times.
By the end of the weekend the grand total raised was $1500, which went to the Turkish national charity, Ozel Olimyatlar, which helps young people with learning disabilities to take part in organised Olympic sports (see the yellow box for more information on the charity). Proof that whilst we swan around in our expensive yachts, living an enviable and carefree lifestyle, some of us can still show a bit of humility and compassion.
Tags: charity, marina, marmaris, Ozel Olimyatlar, snooker, turkey
Category: observation, rants
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… a small, straggly kitten appeared outside the Black Hole’s supermarket. The guys in the shop would should “Satilik, satilik!” (for sale) every time someone stopped to pet her. She was very difficult to ignore, not only because of the noise, but also because she was so pretty – and had green tattooed ears! One drunken early morning J and I persuaded her to walk back to the boat with us
If your marina is fortunate enough to have golf-carts and tricycles knocking about, why not help yourself to one for your return journey after a heavy night in the bar? In an early incident Liz and I ‘borrowed’ the shop’s tricycle, which has a large basket on the back for carrying provisions. After taking five minutes to get the thing going (Liz sitting in the basket was playing havoc with my balance) we eventually rode across the marina, down four steps onto the pontoon, along another 20 metres to the corner, and stacked the thing.
Tags: cat, gear box, madness, marina, marmaris, milly, scrabble, speedophile, turkey
Category: observation
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Being the diplomatic chap that I am I won’t talk about the crew but it is worth mentioning that the non-drinking, non-smoking skipper farts at you when you ask him a question. Don’t ask. The chief mechanic and the hostess have already handed in their notice. The entire crew are alcoholics due to their Groundhog Day existence.
The great thing about Knidos is the lack of tourists. Because there is only one road leading to the headland very little road traffic bother to make the journey. Therefore the majority of tourists come by boat, and since the site Knidos sits on is so remote, nestled between a mountain and a hill at the end of the headland, there are very few people walking round the site.
We compensated for our hard work when anchored up, or in the marina-plenty of good Turkish food and drink to sustain us all even in some of the remotest spots on the littoral. I am sure I put on weight despite all the swimming and snorkelling as well as a deal of trekking and I even did some rowing!
No-one told me that I would be experiencing a force 5-6 wind and Esper would be on a 30-450 heel, so close to the waves!
No-one told me that there were so many hard obstacles on a boat.
No-one told me that one has to be fit and agile.
When you’ve spent over three weeks at sea Antigua really is a piece of heaven on earth. We don’t need to tell you what it was like because it’s all that you imagine it to be: warm, idyllic, welcoming and simply stunning. With free-flowing rum and the fact it was approaching Christmas the vibe was fully switched on to ‘party’ mode. Tim, Dobby, Michel and myself rented a shack for a month on top of a hill overlooking Falmouth Harbour and quickly sussed the perfect recipie for rum-punch. Yachts came and went, providing the south of the island with crowds of party people who crammed the local joints like the Mad Mongoose.
Tags: antigua, caribbean, christmas, english harbour, mad mongoose, nelson's dockyard, pineapple lodge, pitons, punch, rum, st lucia, wahoo
Category: fishing, meeting new people, observation
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Within the space of a couple of hours Michel, Dobby, Tim and myself sorted out some accommodation – a breezeblock house that sits on top of a hill, overlooking Falmouth Harbour. Every evening we sit on our balcony, rum punch in hand, and overlook our lucky find. The crickets strike up a Caribbean drum pattern and we sit there, getting slowly eaten by the mozzies gazing out at the huge super yachts in the marina.
Ahhh. Crossing the Atlantic Ocean by boat. Can I put this experience into words? Probably not but as you see I did keep a log for each day and as you read through it you’ll discover that each day was very different. A lot happened. The night time became a lesson in astronomy. Dreaming became a major talking point on this trip. With such a long time at sea a trip like this is no longer an excursion but a lifestyle.
Tags: atlantic, clouds, flying fish, moon, sunrise, sunset, trade winds
Category: log, observation
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Unlike their UK cousins who are pampered and spoilt and called Fifi or Derek, Portuguese dogs runs tings. They’ve got gangster names like Bullet Dodger Biffhead, Four Star Flash Killer and Cruel Cat-Chaser Crusher. They cruise the streets like they own the place, window shopping in town and congregating and plotting up in the valleys.
