You would think that with 6000 islands and a coastline that is almost half as long as that of Africa, any small country would be happy. Not the Greeks; and especially not the Corinthians. As I will probably tell you later this month, about 2500 years ago the “island” of Lefkas was created by excavating a canal for reasons that are not totally clear.
Then in the late 19th century, the Corinthians were at it again but this time with a much grander vision. They would take the whole of the Peloponnese (the blob of land that makes up much of the southwest corner of Greece and the bit we’ve been sailing round) and make than an island too. It is joined to the rest of the mainland by a narrow isthmus close to the modern city of Corinth. It took them just over 30 years to complete.
In addition to making a circumnavigation of the Peloponnese possible, the canal serves small cargo vessels, tripper boats, yachts and latterly bungee jumpers who leap off the bridges and plunge close to the water surface (hopefully not when something is transiting the canal beneath them). it’s quite strange seeing them from this angle; they seem to dangle like inelegant spiders trying to make an impossible web.
The canal is a big deal. It has submersible bridges, traffic flow control, 24/7 operation (except for Tuesdays when its closed for dredging). It is 25 meters wide but feels a lot narrower when you’re driving your boat through it. Lori and I took turns steering (not difficult at all really).
This was to be the highlight of a long day from near Epidavros to one of a couple of places in the Gulf of Corinth. The day started with Lori raising the anchor and steering the boat out of the anchorage gracefully into a wind blowing on our nose again and us motoring into 20 knots (foercast to be 2 -5.) As Lori said, when she grows up she wants to be a Greek weather forecaster - you don’t even have to pretend to get it right)
On and off the quay at the canal without issue (and even with some style); through the canal; out the other end and into 25 - 30 knots of wind blowing, you guessed it, onto our nose. This is more than just irritating because there are comparatively few placesclose by to go once you are through the canal . We got to our chosen one about a couple of hours later and found it full with a very large tanker and five sailing yachts squeezed in around it. The only open spot didn’t look too inviting - at the very end of the quay at the harbor entrance; not be best place to be with big winds and waves. The only other good destinations are across the other side of the gulf but at least this way the wind is on our beam.
We try to make a little progress down the gulf as we cross but the weather has other ideas. It’s much faster and more comfortable to angle slightly downwind and get to a landlocked bay area about 14 miles away. This would be pretty hard work for Otto (our auto-pilot) so I take the helm. Motor-sailing but fun with a moderate swell giving me good surfing practice.
By the time we get to our destination the boat and we are covered in a thick layer of salt. We find a spot in one of the arms of the bay. Anchoring in 25 knots of wind is a mixture of skill, finesse and luck. But after a couple of circles through the area we manage to dig the anchor inon the first try and wait for the wind to die down at night as it usually does. It doesn’t. The pilot book says this spot is sheltered from westerlies. It isn’t. Or maybe I should be charitable and say that the winds in the gulf must have been pretty strong this night because in our ”sheltered” bay we have a wary night watching and listening to the wind that continues to gust up to 30 knots until. Lori and I take turns on watch. Our Rocna anchor is superb. We are solid as a rock (their pun not mine) all night. The wind seemed to diminish about 3:30 in the morning so we both got some sleep until about 7:00.