The problem appeared where we least expected it. Apparently, the anchor had caught on something heavy on the seabed, and we couldn’t raise it — the windlass suddenly started slipping.
What to do? Carefully, we brought the boat closer to the spot where the anchor had been dropped and gathered as much of the chain onto the deck as we could. After that, the anchor was no longer holding; we yanked it free as best we could and headed out to open sea with the anchor still lowered and swinging beneath us.
Here it’s worth making an important remark. Beginners often think that staying closer to shore is safer. In reality, it’s not — quite the opposite. Near the coast there may be rocks, and there is always shallow water. The safest place is farther out at sea. It’s like flying an airplane: the highest risk is during takeoff and landing. Once in the air, things are usually stable, and you have time to think.
We left the bay and moved far enough away from the coast of Leros. We lay to drift and calmly retrieved the anchor. And this is how we had to do it.
The windlass kept slipping and wouldn’t lock, even when we tried to turn it manually with a lever or a large screwdriver. So we used a different tactic. A carabiner was clipped to a link of the chain, a rope attached to it, and the other end led to the winch on the mast. A few turns, we secured the anchor, then moved the carabiner closer to it.
Luckily, I have a rule: never drop the anchor randomly, but in depths of about 5 meters — 10 at the absolute maximum. In the end, we only had to haul up about 6–7 meters of chain. Even so, it was heavy work and took quite some time.
The anchor was finally secured. We’ll deal with the windlass back at our home marina. Onward. But where to? Did we really want to spend another night knowing we’d have to raise the anchor manually once again? After a short discussion, we decided it wasn’t worth it. So we headed home, to Samos.
Our route took us past the island of Agathonisi. A pity we couldn’t visit it this time. But it’s the closest island to Samos — I’ll definitely make it there.
On this leg of the journey, we were greeted by dolphins! Unfortunately, I couldn’t take any photos. At that moment, the yacht Ganesh was passing two fishing boats in accordance with maritime rules, so there was no time for distractions. And when the pod passed beneath the hull, I shifted the engines into neutral to avoid harming these sea creatures with the propellers.
At least now we know where they live. The next island — and the dolphins — will be waiting for us on the next voyage.
A very challenging approach into our now familiar Samos Marina. The wind shifted to a fairly strong following wind while turning between the two entrance beacons. As usual, dusk was falling. And, as usual, the marina staff came to help. In the end, it was done — the boat was safely in her berth.
One last thing remained. In all this traveling, we almost missed the most important and interesting part. Do you know which island seems to me personally the most beautiful and captivating, the one that truly has something to see and explore? Of course, the best Greek island is the one that has become home — Samos.
The greenest island, rich in history and sights. In the end, it’s even better that we had one extra day left for it. See you tomorrow. Tomorrow, we’ll sum everything up.
