Did you hear me blowing the cobwebs of my blog as I started a new entry after a loooong 2 ½ years? You would think that with all the empty time that the Covid lock downs created, I would have been tipping tapping away on my laptop writing new entries. But not so. I simply haven’t been inspired to write until now that we find ourselves back in Turkey where we left off, and on the eve of getting Paseafique back into the water to continue our adventures. The Covid pandemic created misery and disruption around the world, and we had our share, although in the greater scheme of things we have also been relatively lucky. 

When I read over our last blog of the first couple of months in Turkey in 2019, I was struck by how absolutely innocent we were of the fragility of life. There was also an underlying assumption that our cruising life would just continue which reminded me of how much we all can take things for granted. 

When we left Turkey in November 2019, our plan had been to return in March 2020 and sail north along the west coast to Istanbul, visiting Ephesus and Gallipoli, among other places. on the way. After that we were going to start moving westward through Greece, to Montenegro, Albania, Italy and Malta. We had booked our flights one week apart, to give Phil time to get the boat into the water and to give me one more precious week to enjoy getting to know our two new granddaughters who had been born in January and March 2020. In the days before Phil was due to fly out, the Australian Government issued a Level 4 travel advisory for the whole world, which is effectively a recommendation not to travel outside of Australia. Phil decided to press ahead anyway, as in our past experience the government travel advisories are always on the conservative side.  Little did we know! As I was driving back from dropping him at the airport, the government shut the Australian border and I, like the rest of us, was trapped. The world was about to change in ways that none of us could possibly have predicted. 

Phil arrived in Turkey and managed to get back to the boat in Bozborun. Luckily, the boatyard was still operational and he was able to prepare the boat for launch and head off. Shortly after, Turkey entered a lockdown and Phil was confined to the boat, except for going ashore for essential supplies. Luckily he was not over 65 years, otherwise he would have been confined to the boat altogether and would have had to arrange for supplies to be delivered. And so our parallel lives started. We were both creating jobs to fill in the empty time between video calls and endless movies etc. Me in lockdown in Melbourne, doing all sorts of cleaning and sorting in our unit, and Phil in Turkey, doing all sorts of varnishing and maintenance on Paseafique. 

The initial lock down in Turkey lasted about 5 weeks month, and Phil spent the next 6 months solo sailing about 1000 nm along the south and west coasts of Turkey, dodging covid and complying with a number of shorter lockdowns. He applied for temporary Turkish residency to overcome the limits of the 3 month tourist visa. It was a bit challenging dealing with the Turkish authorities during covid as some of the key offices were closed so Phil couldn’t actually go in there to get guidance, and no point ringing them as many don’t have enough English to sort out any issues on the phone. Overall, Phil had an enjoyable time and he found the solo sailing in this part of the world fairly easy. There was only one scary time when he had 50 knots during the night while at anchor. He met up with some of our friends, and made some new ones. However, it was a bit lonely at times as you would expect.

He had some tough times -a yachtie took a swing at him with an oar, he saw couples he had befriended break up, had bureaucratic problems getting residency, received a $500 fine for anchoring in the wrong place when he clearly wasn’t there BUT there were wonderful times-dinners, BBQ, meeting new friends and catching up with old ones, and visiting historical sights.  

He particularly enjoyed the south coast of Turkey getting as far east as Kekova. The island of Kekova provides protection for a stretch of coast which has a number of small bays and islands -ideal cruising grounds. Not only is this area very pretty, there is a small but spectacular castle, ruins, tombs, and scenic views. 

A little further east, he visited St Nicholas’ Church and crypt in Demre. St Nicholas was born in Greece in 270 AD and was killed in Demre in 343. He is the patron saint for sailors, pawnbrokers and children, among others, and was the original Santa Claus. Go figure -Santa is not from the North Pole! Legend has it that he saved 3 young girls from a life of prostitution by secretly delivering a bag of gold to their father for their dowries. To do this he climbed onto the roof and dropped the gold down the chimney. The daughters were drying their stockings inside the fireplace and the gold landed neatly in one of them. This all made Phil wonder about whether we have lost sight of the importance of giving or contributing to those less fortunate. 

 Meanwhile, back in Melbourne, I was enduring the infamous interminable lockdowns, and plotting ways to get Phil home at the end of the year. I was very lucky to have a great group of friends and family with whom I was able to enjoy video dinners, virtual sundowners and games nights, and walks when we were eventually allowed to go outside our immediate neighbourhood. A bright spot in what was a very dreary period was being able to spend some limited time with the boys and their growing families, working within the covid restrictions. 

In July, I started booking flights for Phil to return to Melbourne in October, and we booked Paseafique into Teos Marina in Sigacik on the Turkish west coast to be stored on the hard for the winter. The first flight was cancelled, and then the second, so a third one was booked. Phil was on the boat in the marina at Teos, and so we kept delaying the pull out so he could stay on the boat, rather than move into an apartment. Late one night in Melbourne around 10pm, I got a rather animated call from Phil to say that he had just experienced an earthquake! The water in the marina was vibrating with little waves all over it, the rigging on all the boats was rattling, and the boats were rocking on their moorings. This was the earthquake that was centred off the nearby Greek island Samos, and caused some damage to buildings in Izmir in Turkey, a little north of Sigacik. We chatted for a bit until things settled down, and then I headed off to bed thinking that all was good at Phil’s end. Of course I lay there awake thinking about what was happening in Sigacik. I heard the phone ping and when I investigated, I found a message from Phil saying “I’m ok but we will need an insurance claim”. Waddya mean!!! A couple of missed calls followed and when we did connect, I found a VERY animated Phil on the other end of the line. A tsunami, comprising a series of waves, had come through the marina, wrecking havoc. Sections of the marina piers had broken off and were floating around with boats still attached. A number of boats had broken off their moorings and had careened around the marina, crashing into other boats in what looked like a horrendous game of pin ball. Some boats actually got lifted partially or completely up onto the pier.

Phil had stayed on board Paseafique, although there was really little he could do in the face of the force of the water. Several of the unsecured boats crashed into Paseafique. She was Med moored which means stern to the pier with one line attached at the bow and two at the stern. The front mooring line broke, and one of the stern cleats broke, leaving her secured by the only other stern mooring line. The waves pushed the boat side on to the pier and Phil was able to jump off and secure another line so that she sat side to the pier, with buffers placed along the side. The force of the water pushed the boat against and upwards on the pier, lifting the stern onto the pier, but fortunately, it didn’t quite put the whole boat up onto the pier, as had been the case with others. As the water receded, the boat slid off the wall. Apart from being pumped full of adrenaline, Phil was ok but poor Paseafique was battered and bruised. The toe rail along the port side had been dented in several places, the stainless steel pulpit and port stanchions had been bent skew if, there were scrapes and dings on the rudder and on the fibreglass at the stern, and the stainless steel davits (used to lift the dinghy out of the water) were also bent out of shape. 

After a traumatic experience for Phil and everyone at the marina, and a long sleepless night for me, the recovery began. The marina staff worked around the clock to secure the boats that had come adrift, and try to restore some functionality to the marina. We were lucky to have supportive people around us both in Turkey and Australia who helped where they could. The marina got Paseafique out of the water and onto a hard stand as soon as the yard was operating again. I got to work contacting our insurance company to get the ball rolling on the claim. They sent a surveyor to assess the damage, and Phil organised quotes from local providers. We had a bit of luck in relation to our insurance, which is renewed each year on November 1. As we had expected the boat to be out of the water by then, I had arranged for the renewal to provide cover for being out of the water only. However, due to Phils airfares being continually cancelled, the boat was still in the water at the end of October. The tsunami happened on Oct 31, so we were still covered for “in water” – but only just! Phil moved into a unit in the little town of Sigacik, packed Paseafique up for the winter, and waited ………. for one of the many flights to Australia that I booked to actually take off.  In July, I had begun booking flights for Phil to return home, starting with bookings for the end of October. After five cancelled flights, he eventually arrived back in Australia on Dec 12^th, and was whisked straight to hotel quarantine in Sydney. Here he endured 14 days of solitary confinement, like so many others did, and discovered just how tough that is, despite the fact that he had planned some “entertainment” projects for himself and that both I and his mother had sent care packages of small presents -one for each day. He got his final Covid test (negative) and completion certificate on day 12, but he had to stay right until the 14 days were up, even though there were no more routine Covid tests. This was the last straw for him and he expressed his displeasure to the staff only to be told to pull himself into line if he didn’t want to stay longer. Finally on Boxing Day, his torture was over and he was set free in time for his flight to Melbourne where there was a very emotional reunion at the airport -one of the many that airport staff have seen no doubt. So we settled back into life as a couple and enjoyed time with family and friends, and some local travel, while keeping an eye on when the Covid situation would allow a return to Paseafique and cruising life.