Find Us On Facebook
Follow Us On Twitter
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”.
It doesn’t seem to matter where you are this weekend: Turkey, England, Germany… it’s wet wherever you go. If the weather’s not ripping pontoons apart in Marmaris it’s holding up traffic on the M25 and making the autobahn a dangerous place to travel. For those who haven’t seen it we have some video evidence of the damage that wreaked havoc across Marmaris, recorded by Mike of ‘Roam’, hot off the press. In stark contrast to that we have a great movie of ‘Ilios’, ‘Viva Solo’, ‘Esper’, ‘Full Flight’ and ‘Lady Jessie’ all demonstrating what we like doing best. Any opportunity to send Liz off up into the air attached to a bit of string , camcorder in hand, has got to be worth the effort and she captured some fantastic video clips, which we present to you here. A pleasant musical refrain replaces the dirty-mouthed Liz battling with a shaky video camera.
Oh, I almost forgot to mention International Rescue. Probably because it’s mildy embarrassing, but as long as Gina from ‘Impulse’ is around, armed with her bacon and mint sauce, you know you are in good hands.
Since Millie wrote her log we have received some pics from Marcus. Check ‘em out. There are some great shots of Tomb Bay.
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!
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.
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!
On one occasion we approached a quiet little corner in Sarsala Iskelesi, slowed down the engine ready to reverse in, when a **** in a stupid red motor boat overtook us, dropped his anchor and tied up to a tree as Liz and I looked on, aghast, with arms raised. And you wonder why sailors dislike motorboat owners. What a prize a-hole.
I can only assume it was the sudden shock of my body having to do physical exercise, whilst flexing my mental muscle over simple navigational tasks, all for the first time in a number of months. Jees, I’m both physically deformed and mentally retarded.
I only have one page to document the many, many things Susann does! From chartering to exporting generators, from motorbikes to oriental dancing, Susann takes multi-tasking to the extreme. After interviewing her I now understand why some people have 27 hour clocks by their bed. This girl does it all……..