Empty anchorages, wild flowers and snow capped mountain backdrops are the prizes of early season cruising in Greece. Changeable weather is a price worth paying. Our plan - launch and head south to the Peloponnese - Greece's answer to Scotland. We headed back to Rush at Cleopatra boatyard in mid March, a week before launch, with time for cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, maintenance and stocking the food lockers.  Aussie couple, Craig and Jo, also returned to their catamaran, Sunday of London, a few doors down from Rush. We met when Craig asked to borrow some tools to break into their boat… the office being locked, along with their boat key. Could have been a stressy situation after long travel, but they were smiley, calm and collected. We punctuated our respective boat work with coffees and suppers in local tavernas and on board and they quickly became proper friends.  Rush’s launch was wet and windy but went smoothly. Until we launched Derek and his outboard went into limp mode (who even know that 15hp outboards have limp mode these days?!) as soon as we increased speed. As I write this, flushing, fuel cleaner, a Suzuki dealer session and several speculative parts replacements later, the problem remains unresolved. Yet you can bet it will turn out something simple. The early season weather remained changeable and, following a day or two in Lefkada trying to fix the outboard, we headed south. Our friend Claire (of last April’s blog and Nick the Greek fame) and single-handed racer mate Juan were due to join us for Easter (following successful Wadhams match-making!) and, with a few days to go, we had to nominate an airport. That went badly.  The island of Zakinthos was on our route to the Peloponnese and the forecast was OK. They booked flights. The forecast changed.  Zakinthos harbour is big and the yachts berths in its NE corner are not where you want to be in SW gale.  We diverted to Messolonghi on the mainland. Claire and Juan landed – we broke the news – they got a ferry – we hired a car – Amanda drove an hour and a half to collect them. Pissed. Them, not Amanda. A boozy lunch waiting for the ferry - a charismatic barman on it - and their journey was painless. Meanwhile I battled to protect Rush from an unfriendly wall in Messolonghi. All because the Port Police cleared the excellent, all-round sheltered anchorage due to an incoming Navy vessel for their 200th siege anniversary celebrations. The vessel turned out to be marginally larger than Derek. And tied up on the wall anyway. We pride ourselves on careful planning and a well-maintained ship leading to generally drama-free cruising. Not this time. The added travel was just the first of daily incidents during Claire and Juan’s Easter aboard… We pushed on towards the Peloponnese, discovering and fixing a blocked and exploding heads holding tank en-route. Ours, not theirs, fortunately. Horrendous. NEVER happens to us.* Amanda bravely bore the…

We launched two days after returning to Rush on September 10th and headed through the Levkas Canal to Pogonia. The Levkas Canal floating swing bridge had failed (or failed to undertake) it’s annual safety inspection so, in a classically Greek solution, it was temporarily replaced by a chartered ferry.  The ferry was not used conventionally however…. It was selected for its exact length to wedge across the canal, enabling road traffic to drive on one end and off the other.   Pogonia was a convenient spot (avoiding the long que for the ferry-bridge) to pick up Sarah and Stacey, who flew in the following day. They are not just mates, they’re “pillars’ of the sailing community. Sarah was CEO of the RYA and Stacey sits on the Council of World Sailing, our sport’s international governing body. Lifejackets on! They cruise their Ovni around northern Europe and jump aboard race boats for events like the Fastnet and Newport-Bermuda.     Sarah and Stacey’s enthusiasm was infectious - the day before flying out Sarah said “I’m so excited I can hardly breathe”. With perfect weather we packed in some good sailing, visits to new and familiar places, lots of swimming and two nights of rendezvous with Lars and Anna on Odin of Sweden, plus Glenn and Nina on their yacht Ameline Eleonore who, like us, were part of the Odin crew at the fabulous Baltic Yachts regatta in Sardinia two years ago.   The Swedes led us to Kastos, their favourite little Ionian Island – local population: 37. After eating seared tuna in the harbourside taverna they took us to Alex and Maria’s bar, Dimello, located above their home. Ten years ago Alex and Maria decided to escape Athens corporate jobs and change their lives. After they moved to Kastos, our Swedes were among Dimello’s first customers and have visited at every opportunity since. They were welcomed like old friends and that quickly extended to us. Alex loves playing timeless, great music in the bar, skilfully attuned to their current customers. “This is for you, Amanda”. Before we knew it, it was past 01.30 and we’d probably drunk more that evening than over the past year. But you can't manufacture these occasions with wonderful friends in beautiful places – just embrace them when they come along.          After nine fun days we blatted south to Zakinthos with 20+ knot gusts allowing Sarah and Stacey to compete for the highest speed of the trip, followed by a fabulous supper ashore. The taverna owner waited patiently for us to choose from his menu, then insisted we have this not that. S&S flew home the following day.   It was change-over day on Rush, with our Contessa and Scow owning village mate Red arriving on the plane which took Sarah and Stacey home. Would a classic craft enthusiast like Red get Rush?! Red only had a few days on board and, unfortunately, this time the wind didn’t play ball. More time under power than sail... but we managed to sail at times, anchored in a couple of beautiful bays including…

Our return to Montenegro began with a fleecing by the taxi driver’s cartel at the airport. Three days earlier we’d paid €20 for a taxi to the airport. They all passive-aggressively demanded €40 at the airport for the return ten minute trip. To Amanda’s relief, my annoyance eased as we stepped aboard and spotted a €10 note floating by Rush’s stern.  We’d heard that Bar was the friendliest place for clearing-out of Montenegro so the following day we left the beautiful Bay of Kotor and headed an anchorage close to Bar, ready to do the paperwork and set off the following morning on an overnight passage to Corfu. Pumping music on the beach started at dusk and kept us awake into the early hours… then a strong katabatic wind took over! Upside – it was easy to be excited about our return to Greece and the lovely, gentle Greeks. Light winds were forecast and we had a smooth, sometimes quite quick, sail through the first day, then resorted to motoring through the night, anchoring off Corfu by early afternoon the next day.    We carefully picked the closest anchorage to the main port – perfect for the clearing in and Rush’s temporary import VAT process. However… It turned out here was no gate at “our” end of the port… so we walked half a mile until we reached a gate at the middle of the port. Then, as we weren’t sure whether we needed the Customs (at one end) or the Port Police (at the other end) first, we took a guess and headed to Customs. Wrong. So we walked a mile to the Port Police at the other end for their paperwork sesh, then a mile back to the Customs for theirs, followed by half a mile back to the middle gate, then half a mile back to the boat! We’re not strangers to walking but it was, once again, close to 40° and, in the blazing mid-day sun, we had only mad dogs for company. We did see the funny side.   Anyway, with that done, we immediately lifted anchor and headed back up the Corfu coast to meet our close friend Alison and her top new chap, Saxby. They’d been staying in an apartment above the beach for a week, ahead of Alison spending a long-anticipated week on Rush. In true super-fit action-man/woman, minimalist style, befitting both of them, they pitched up on the beach in swimsuits, with a toothbrush, sundress and shorts in a tow-float, ready to swim out to Rush and spend the night aboard! Having shared some significant ups and downs with Alison over the last few years, this was yet another emotional milestone moment aboard the good ship. Which called for rum. After a beautiful night in a secluded bay, the following morning we were surprised to discover our anchor was fouled on a cable and we couldn’t lift it. Phone calls to local divers revealed we’d have to wait most of the…

May was, believe it or not, the first time we’d gone home and left Rush afloat. It was good to get back and find all well – albeit we’d heard from Jerry Hill, an old small boat racing contact from the UK who was cruising on his Catana, moored next to Rush and was impressed enough to research the design and discover she was ours.   After a MAJOR red dust clean-up and food shop we set off for an evening rendezvous with Lars and Anna in a beautiful cove on the southern tip off Ithaca, before heading to Argostolli on Kefalonia, where Amanda’s mum, Diane, was due to arrive the next day.    This was a big deal. Amanda’s mum was, fittingly, the first of our family to see Rush and it was a special moment. Turtles swimming around us added to the occasion. The mother-in-law (as I call her) stayed in a hotel overlooking the bay for a week and we had drinks and meals on Rush, went for day-sails, explored Argostolli, hired a car to visit Asos at the north end of the island and drove around what the Greeks claim (and who are we to argue) is the most spectacular coastal road in the Mediterranean. We all loved that week. The MiL bought a straw hat and left it on board “for next time”.   Next up for Rush was a lovely passage north to Paxos, anchoring in a bay just north of Gaios at dusk and then on to Corfu, early the next morning. Claire arrived the following day, seizing a last minute opportunity to cram in another week of cruising adventure She’s hooked!  Our plan was to head to Albania and then Montenegro, to explore some areas we’ve never visited before, win time outside our bleedin’ Schengen zone 90/180 day restriction and re-set Rush’s VAT clock. She’s not EU VAT paid, so we have to leave the EU within 18 months of arrival and start a new period on return. Clearing out at Corfu was, therefore, an important task – critical to get the documentation right and avoid potentially huge fines later. It involves schlepping back and forth between the Port Police and the Customs offices, but once we’d found the right offices the officials were super-friendly and made it almost fun... in 40° heat.  Southern Albania is only a couple of miles from Corfu’s east coast – with their mountain silhouettes giving spectacular evening backdrops. We headed to the southern-most port of entry, Sarande and, as it’s recommended to use a clearing agent in Albania, we engaged Jelja.  Jelja was super-efficient which made up for the fact that our arrival in Sarande, a biggish town and holiday resort, felt a rather hostile experience after the shabby chic glamour of Corfu old-town. A strong breeze kicked in just before we arrived, jet-skis and speedboats used us for target practice... and the pirate ships set sail with (terrible) music pumping at full bore. Amanda and Claire…

After heading back to Preveza in late March we spent a week getting pre-season jobs done on Rush, ashore in Cleopatra Boatyard. I’ll write a separate update in the blog’s Boat section – including a selfless confession to a winterising mistake, so you can avoid making the same school-boy error. You probably wouldn’t anyway… Following launch on April 1st, we tackled the Greek cruising paperwork fest at the customs office and Port Police, which went as smoothly as the launch. They generally seem a friendly and helpful bunch which is handy because, since Brexit, we have to check into and out of every Greek port we visit…   Next day our cruising season started properly with great sailing on a 30 mile, 15-20kt beat north to the island of Paxos, just south of Corfu. Taking advantage of the pre-season quiet, we anchored in deserted Mongonisi Bay overnight and then took Rush into the heart of Gaios the following morning. Let’s be honest, it wasn’t all glam - at one point we were hit by a hailstorm so violent that we thought it may damage the boat! And almost everything was closed. But we didn’t mind – we were cruising again after the UK winter and we found a dodgy meal on the quayside that night to celebrate.  More rain and no wind the following morning, so we motored south towards the Levkada Canal. With the cockpit enclosure zipped down we wandered about in our socks, making coffee and eating breakfast with panoramic visibility, while covering the ground at just over seven knots. We made the same, similarly civilised, trip with our friends Paul and Jenny Rudling on their gorgeous Fleming 65 motor yacht over ten years ago. When the wind filled in, we knocked off the remaining miles with the main and Code 55.    The weather was changeable but steadily improving and we hung out on Meganisi, spent two nights in Favourite Bay on the mainland (can’t remember its proper name and wouldn’t tell you anyway) and sheltered in Vliho Bay on Levkada while an abrupt front went through. Weather forecasting is generally so good now. The front was forecast to go over at 01.30, taking the wind from 10 knots southerly to 30 knots north-westerly. We went to bed with an alarm set for 12.30 and kept watch for a while to ensure our anchor safely reset after the wind change. Our friend Claire arrived late on April 14th after being chatted up by engaging Nick the Greek (name changed to protect the innocent) at the airport. We picked her up in Derek and returned to Rush, anchored in a pretty bay a couple of miles away. Claire moved to our UK south coast home patch a couple of years ago and is super-keen to get involved in everything, especially on the water. It was delightful, over the coming days, to witness her excitement and instant love for life afloat. It’s easy for us lifers to forget how special…

. We returned to Port Saint Louis and Rush in early October after a couple of great months at home, culminating in two milestone family birthdays and, sadly, a funeral for someone who meant a huge amount to us. Rush was launched two days later and that afternoon Alexis from Belgium (he has a CM46 like Rush in build) and his friend Roel from the Netherlands joined us. We met Alexis through this blog and video chats while he and his wife, Veronique were choosing which catamaran to order - then had dinner at Bucklers Hard when Alexis and Roel sailed to the Solent on Roel’s boat. A trip aboard Rush gave Alexis the opportunity to experience a CM46 in action before making their myriad of final spec decisions.    After working through some electrical gremlins, with Clarence logged in from Cape Town, followed by a major food shopping expedition in Derek, we departed the following afternoon for a 60 mile passage to Ile de Porquerolles and a rendezvous with Lars and Anna-Lena on Odin.  Arriving at Porquerolles in the night set the trend for the whole passage. Fortunately, I enjoy night-time arrivals provided the conditions are benign, which they were. That said, later in the voyage a fish farm did necessitate a full-on, full-astern stop as we felt our way into a Capraian anchorage! Two (more) days of howling Mistral winds kept us pinned in Porquerolles harbour, the upside being good times with Lars and Anna before departing for the Italian island of Capraia, just beyond the northern tip of Corsica. That night saw our first wing-on-wing sail with Solent and staysail in the last blast of the Mistral, then mainsail and G1 the following morning, followed by motoring in flat calm the rest of the way.  That also set the pattern. We have a boat that sails in light winds – but you do need a light wind!     Can’t complain, we could keep making progress and, with Alexis and Roel aboard, we all got decent sleep during the long autumn darkness. With many cruise ships around to inspire us, we decided if we did want to stop, we’d do it during the day; swim, explore, then depart before dusk with (alcohol free) evening drinks, dinner at the table then slot into our night rota.    Our route comprised heading from Capraia down past Elba to the island of Ponza, on the approx. latitude of Naples, followed by a hop past Capri to have breakfast off Positano and an afternoon in Amalfi (we know how to live), then on down to Vibo Valencia, about 30 miles from the Messina Strait. My word, the Italian Islands and Amalfi coast are spectacular. Capraia and Ponza were wonderfully out-of-season quiet, while Positano and Amalfi were like blasts of tourist humanity amid our four-person passage-making “isolation”.  In many ways, that added to the experience – and dipping into to them for a few hours was perfect.   Sadly, Alexis and Roel’s time…

Rush arrived safely in Fos-sur-Mer, near Marseille, following her delivery by ship from Cape Town and we boarded her on June 20th. Full marks to Peters and May in the UK, Pronto Shipping in CT and the ship’s crew for a perfectly executed and communicated job.  It was a slightly heart-in-mouth procedure as Rush was craned off the deck, swung over the side and lowered to ship’s deck level for us to board, then on down into the Med – with fingers crossed that the engines and everything would start and work as it had on another continent. We headed across the bay to Port Saint Louis where we’d booked a berth to moor alongside while we cleaned and re-rigged. Our Swedish friends Lars and Anna-Lena on Odin of Sweden (we met and cruised in company in the Med on the previous Rush and did the fabulous Baltic Yachts Rendezvous on Odin last September) were coincidentally also heading to Port Saint Louis in late June. They’d been en-route from Italy via Corsica, set off from Ajaccio 36 hours before Rush arrived and remarkably, following their cruise from Italy and Rush’s delivery from Cape Town, we entered Port Saint Louis at exactly the same time and motored up the canal together. After all our hurdles and years away from cruising you couldn’t have made it up. It felt symbolic - We Were Back. A blow your cheeks out moment. Rush and Odin were absolutely plastered in red Sahara dust, which is often a thing in the western Med but had literally rained down so badly that week that it made the French news! Cleaning it out of every nook, clutch, traveller and cranny took a full day…. then it came down again…. Joy. The day after arrival was mid-summer, which Swedes celebrate in style. Lars and Anna-Lena (who is an amazing cook) arrived on Rush laden with multiple incredible dishes of gourmet traditional Swedish food and a bag full of appropriate beers and wines for each course. Having been light drinkers of late, we embraced the whole occasion - there was no rigging or sailing to be done the following day anyway, due to the wind! Howling Mistral winds (another feature of that corner of France) also seem to be having a bumper year and it was about four days before we could even unroll the sails on the deck to re-rig, without fear of them taking off. A week later we’d rigged, provisioned and had properly itchy feet so, towards the tail end of the Mistral, we convinced ourselves that it had dropped enough to head off on our first cruise…. a marginal call as it turned out that resulted in a bit of a baptism of fire. But it was downwind and, after rounding a couple of lumpy headlands with breeze in the high twenties, we sat at Rush’s saloon table for supper while surfing downhill, with a 360 view… and nothing sliding off the table!  Over the next couple…

Following Rush’s launch on the 6th, at the end of February we packed a lot of bags and headed to Knysna for the final stages of completion, testing and departure. That period in Knysna, moored in the harbour by the Yacht Club, will always feel a blur of boat work, excitement, stress, camaraderie and being absorbed into Knysna’s amazing sailing community. Seeing Rush finally afloat was, of course, a big moment – moving aboard too.   Perhaps the most powerful memories are rightly related to people. We can’t possibly mention everyone but we have to tell you about at least a few…. CM’s Julian, Renay and Rod (and factory manager Adrian too) we’ve mentioned in earlier posts. They overcame adversity, completed Rush, and she’s awesome. We’ve hugged many times and we probably drove each other mad at others! We’ve shared so many highs, lows, beers and meals that there will always be a bond. What a journey.   We spent many days aboard with CM’s fit-out team, including Lindsay, Solomon, Giovanni, Dalmenian, Steve, Boyce (who slept aboard before we did) and many others. You guys were always so courteous, helpful and fun.  Clarence, Daniel and Nathan from CYS, electronics gurus – what can we say? Above and beyond. Top sailors too – one moment in a locker with a multi meter – the next trimming and tuning.  We genuinely, genuinely, miss all you great people who created Rush.  Greg and Leslie... Central Knysna characters and simply wonderful human beings. Leslie organised so many occasions - dragging us off the boat and into a world new to us – meals, music and stunning places. Greg is one of SA’s top, top sailors with Round the World races and World Championships under his belt – a boat builder, his own house builder, movie set builder and talented artist! Greg can spot an issue, create a carbon solution, tell you when it’s safe to press or better to back-off, introduce you to anyone in the SA marine industry and get stuff done just because they love him. Greg was with us through most of our SA sailing. What would we have done without you, Greg??   Dudley, ever present at Knysna Yacht Club and ever ready to help, which he did, in so many ways. Among Dudley’s wide fleet is Al Malaika, a 1933 33 footer built by McGruer for King George V to gift to the Sultan of Zanzibar. With Dudley’s blessing, she needs a new home and a full restoration. If with anyone with deepish pockets reads this and recognises the opportunity of a beautiful yacht with impeccable provenance – a boat that could be day-sailed locally, popped onto a truck to Les Voiles de St Tropez or packed into a container for Antigua Classics - I’ll put you in touch. Seriously… what a prospect. We’ll come. Leon, the TAG 55 catamaran owning, snail farming, cigarette rolling, ex Southern Ocean fisherman with 30m wave stories, the world’s deepest toolbox, the cheekiest humour and a penchant…

By the latter part of February we’d really started to develop a home-from-home in Knysna. We’ve spent evenings with Julian talking boats and business, others with his lovely sister Renay and her partner Rod and some of their friends. We’ve met great people at the Yacht Club and uncovered shared contacts around the small world of sailing. Dudley generously lent us his “spare” dinghy – a newish training type boat he’d bought to get friends afloat. We’re really grateful, have done some club racing (and will do more) and are just not going to go there with the fact it’s a Topper Argo. OK guys??!! Let’s just call it RS competitor analysis.      It's also inspiring to hang out in a community where a group of people have extensive ocean sailing experience, as well as dinghies in the boat park. From round-the-world races, to Caribbean and European boat deliveries and cruising, I guess if you’re going almost anywhere from here, the geography leads you to ocean sailing. Talking to Clarence the other day, it sounded as though the equivalent of a New Year’s Day club race at home, is the Cape to Rio race here! It’s also good to hear these guys talk positively about the boats CM build.    We marked Amanda’s birthday at the end of February with an overnight stay in a fabulous lodge at Plettenburg Game Park. Belle Balance lodge was a treat and, while the game park didn’t quite match Amakhala last year, the fact that we could see elephants, giraffe and other animals only an hour from Knysna was pretty cool. Favourite quote from our guide after earnestly tracking a rhino: “The rhino is not here, so he must be somewhere else”. Years of hard-earned experience. Next up, in early March, was a visit from a new-found friend (a bonus from this blog), Scott from Vancouver. Scott made contact a year ago while researching performance cats, with a view to retiring from his role as a trauma surgeon, persuading his prosecutor wife to do the same and, with new-found freedom due to uni-age daughters, head off to explore some world. Plans were modified late last year when Scott's wife earned promotion to become a judge. A great achievement but the world must wait! Scott is not a man to be easily deterred. We’d struck up a bit of a Zoom rapport and he decided to visit South Africa, take a stunning trip up to and through Namibia, then come down to Knysna to meet us, the CM team and Rush. He’s a top guy and we spent four fun days together, despite the weather going to rats. We parted vowing to meet up again soon for passages and holidays along Rush’s travels.    While we’re primarily here in Knysna for the completion and launch of the boat, it is also the first part of our adventure and experiences in some new parts of the world. We wouldn’t have spent time in South Africa and met…

In mid Feb we headed off on Amanda’s planned diverse five day road trip.  An hour’s drive from Knysna the Outeniqua Pass climbs over the mountains above the town of George, on the Garden Route. The pass was originally created in 1847 (and known as the Montagu Pass), as a trade route inland from the coast, for horses and wagons. It was one of those hard-to-comprehend projects that took a significant toll. It has since been re-routed, re-built and re-named as technology, machinery and vehicles have evolved. After driving back and forth along the N2 (between the mountains and the coast) several times it was exciting to head into a landscape that had only been a dramatic backdrop until then.   We’re going to run out of superlatives if not careful, so let’s just say the pass has steep, lush, green and rocky slopes (a bit like Scotland on steroids) with huge views down over George at the foot and on towards the Indian Ocean. It’s often shrouded in the clouds but we lucked out with a crystal clear conditions.  The pass leads into the Karoo – a sort of cross between desert and rocky flatland pastures. The Karoo is hotter and drier than the coastal areas – over 30°C when we were there, with huge plains and red rocks. In the Outeniqua region the Karoo is also home to ostrich farms on, of course, another grand scale. Ostrich generated wealth through their meat, leather and, it now seems… monster feather dusters. Locals sell them on street corners in the ostrich capital Oudshoorn and we wanted one, but it would be a touch unecessary on a catamaran.   Next stop was the spectacular limestone Cango Caves - one of the world’s longest and largest cave systems and it’s best to let the photos do most of the talking. The stalactites and stalagmites have formed over millions of years and, of course, in caves they’re not subject to erosion or other degradation. Standing next to these incredible formations, in cathedral sized galleries, put us and our lifespans into perspective.    From the caves we drove along Route 62 which, like Route 66 in the States, has its own T-shirts, mugs and tea towels. It’s justifiably renowned. The best stretch came the following day, so we’ll jump to our first night’s stay. Amanda had found a converted old, seriously rustic barn on an olive farm in the middle of… nowhere. Let’s hope Avis don’t read this blog because off-road use of the car was banned (how’s that ever going to work in Africa?). By the time we tracked down our barn the car was an indistinguishable dusty lump. Mountains towered above the barn on one side, with huge views over the karoo on the other. Utter silence. We wandered around the olive trees, cooked a braai (South Africans tend to burn wood rather than charcoal, so you have to light it long before you’re hungry) and lay on stone benches gazing at…