Wednesday Wind and Views Like Wow.
Today, the wind.
We woke in the deep bay of Skopelos town to howling wind and menacing skies. In truth, we knew this was coming, and Skipper brought us in here for protection. So we knew we’d face a bouncy ride out of the harbour, and a bumpy Wednesday in general.
This is the stuff that keeps swim guides awake all night.
Where can we swim? Are they up to some rougher conditions? Will they feel like the trip was a bust? Though we often torture ourselves with these sorts of questions, there’s nothing we can do about the weather, and our guests don’t blame us for it. They are also usually game to try whatever opportunity we offer. By this point in a trip, they have the kind of water confidence that comes when one is singularly focused on nothing but swimming. By this point, they are usually hungry for more.
Skipper and Lulu, Simon and I huddled up on the bridge looking for sheltered places that might offer a good swim. What we are realizing is that almost every coastline in the Sporades Islands offers something dynamic, and so we were really just looking for something that wouldn’t toss us around too much. We pulled into the lovely little one-tree bay of Paralia Aramontos and dropped anchor. Here we could see evidence of wildfire from years ago, as the hillside before us was studded with blackened toothpicks – trees from long ago lost to the damage. Beneath this is a lush green green green and the proof that life always finds a way to begin again.
On our way into this bay, we had noticed a deep cut in the cliffside – a fjord-like contour that beckoned. We wanted to go see it. But getting there meant a swim around the corner in rough swell and chop, straight into a fierce wind. We gathered these 4 on the back deck and told them about the cut, and about the conditions we would face to get there. Everyone said Yes. Let’s go.
Froth. Chaos. Fish darting about looking for order. The occasional jelly. Balance distorted. The noise that comes at the volatile cusp of water and sky when the wind is the most dominant force. The pictures that both Simon and I captured on this bouncy, windy, “sporty” swim could never do it justice. But our swimmers charged into the sea and around the corner with us. On each of their faces I saw nothing but determination. Forward.
We saw the cut in the cliff ahead and made a bee line for it. Inside was a welcoming place from another world. Clear blue water, a white sand beach deep into the mountain side. Tree lined walls rising a hundred feet up on either side of us. An oasis in the storm. Peace.
It was magical.
We were whooping and hooting and reveling in awe of this Oz we’d found in the middle of a twister. I couldn’t stop making pictures. Everyone’s faces up and full of wonder.
It was the best of rewards.
And then it was time to go back. Once more into the breach! We made a stop at another cut Simon had been adamant we investigate. It was worth the detour. It was a T shaped grotto with caves on either end. Everyone was giddy with adventure. I‘m so proud of them.
“Smug Simon”, as he called himself, was very proud of his faith that we could get into these magical places and do this swim. I’m very proud of his confidence in this group too.
We fought our way around the corner and cruised back into the protection of our little bay, yacht sitting calmly, waitning to catch us. Everyone had a different idea of how to decompress after the experience, so Simon took Laura and Deb on a straight half mile swim, while Donnie and I bobbed around the bay peering into nooks and crannies. Sean made for the boat to chill out in the first beams of sun to appear through the gray.
A short trip to our dockside shelter for the night, where Skipper befriended a cat with a can of tuna.
Lulu had a warm lunch waiting for us. We filled our bellies and relaxed. We moved the boat just one bay over to a little town dock that offered a safe spot for the night. From here we jumped in again to explore a cave around the corner. We thought it might be just a short swim, but instead found ourselves lured by a path through an underwater rock garden till we covered at least a half mile. There, we found cave nearly obscured by a fallen tree. We rested on the beach inside and Simon entertained us with his monk seal impression as we laughed. Back out and a sprint to home to reach the yacht before dark.
Cocktails, fantastic dinner and dessert (still not sure how Lulu produces these feasts right under our noses and makes it look so effortless), a spectacular sunset.
Before turning in, Don said something so meaningful to me. He said, “I’m doing so many things this week I never could have imagined. Things I didn’t really know were possible.” Even more special to me is that I have watched him do these things with a light in his face I haven’t seen before. Or at least, not for a very long time.
It’s early Thursday morning now. It rained all night and the crew and I were up before the sun to move our yacht to another safe harbour. The rain continues so we will leave our guests in their beds for a while. They’ve more than earned a slow start today.
With love and pride,
Heather