Finale, Friday, Fun, Sun.

Our last night out at sea is always a little emotional for me. I usually wake at some point in the night, crawl out of my little nest and look up at the stars one final time. We are far from the lights of anywhere bright, and the night sky is endless. The wee hours is usually the time when the water is at its most still. No one is awake but me. I will, in these private moments, marvel in the place I am, that I get to do this, that the world has even more places like this than I know or could ever dream of seeing. I feel comfortably small in these thoughts, and I like it that way. 

In the morning, everyone slowly emerged from their cabins, wrapped up in an extra layer because, although we have sun, it’s chilly. Lisa fueled us with a hot breakfast, and before long we were all in bathing suits and caps and edging toward the water. Getting in is hard when it’s cold, but we never regret it.

Our second swim in Staflios Bay was of course, a stunner. Calm waters on the west side of the point where we explored the Cave of Tranquility (Simon’s name for it), the Hole of Death (not so deadly today), and several swim arounds and swim throughs. Once again I was moved by the change I have seen in this group of swimmers - they wouldn’t go anywhere near the rocks on day 1, and now we can’t keep them out.

Most spectacular on our final morning swim was the combination of stunningly clear water and autumnal light - the bright sun is a little lower in the sky and everything just glows. Our swimmers were moved by it too, and the end of the swim spontaneously evolved into play. Diving down deep and rocketing up, spinning, flipping, just for the fun of it. I love to photograph adults at play. Especially those to whom it never occurred before now.

Back on board we had a chilly 2 hour motor sail to our final location. Plan A was blown out, so we improvised a plan B along the shores of Tsougrias Island just east of Skiathos port. When we anchored there, it was windy and gray and cold, and from the boat, the shoreline looked like it might not be anything special. I won’t lie - both Simon and I had trouble summoning the enthusiasm for it. So he played some tunes and the two of us spontaneously broke into dancing - ridiculous “I’m trying to get excited” dancing. It did the trick and we all jumped in.

Why am I still surprised by Greece and her ability to deliver the goods on every, single, swim?

We swam to a point along a bottom that looked like it had been cobblestoned. The water was crystal clear for us one last time, and in between the stones little fish bobbed and darted around. The rocks gave way to pure white sand, rippled along the bottom from the waves. Long patches of sea grasses ran through the sand, and swimming above this varied bottom felt like flying in a plane over a storied countryside. Lots of little urchins, some with hats, some without, and a ledge under which wrasses and chromis zoomed out and back in. The sun came out for us and we swam along the beach to the far point and around it, and it was here we saw the majestic goat atop a promontory. His golden locks blew in the breeze, and he stood there, confidently, as if he’d been waiting for us all week. In our final moments in the Aegean, everyone bobbed and played and just enjoyed the water together. The whole swim was beautiful.

Back to Skiathos port, the ladies hit the town and we packed up for home, which allowed for a chill evening after a fantastic dinner of Lisa’s yacht-made moussaka followed by apple tartatin and the slideshow of our week. The harbour was mostly calm for the last sleep in my little boat nest.

In the airport on the way home, Simon and I talked about how, as guides, it can be challenging to always bring the enthusiasm, even when conditions might not be optimal. We constantly remind ourselves that to our guests, this is all new, all exciting, and they will follow our lead to make the most of it, whatever the weather and whatever awaits. I’ve seen it again and again. Lucky for us, Greece and her spectacular shores leave little to be desired. There is quite literally something amazing to look at around every corner, in every nook and cranny. Every swim is new whether we’ve done it before or not. What a gift.

I’ve said it before – exploring these shores as a swimmer must be the most unique perspective from which one can enjoy Greece. It’s a hidden Greece, we experience. Venturing underwater, under arch ways into secret stone rooms, circling hidden promontories in enormous water caves, looking up into the smooth darkness and down into the electric blue glow of undiscovered grottos. To be able to move in and out of these magnificent spaces on our own power, no bulky equipment required…there’s simply nothing else like it. Dominique used the phrase “childlike wonder”. This is what swimming here awakens in us.

I feel so lucky to be able to spend two weeks guiding an experience like this, and this time, for two very different sets of swimmers. The first, seasoned SwimVacationers who know who we are and what we do, who needed only to be pointed in the right direction to explore and make the most of these Sporades Islands and their hidden gems. The second week, a brand new batch of SwimVacationers, fresh from the pool, ready to learn a new way to see and be in the water. 

I get to show them all this. I get to guide them to what’s possible – their strength in the waves and their abandon in the buoyant sea. I get to watch as they broaden their understanding of what swimming can be.

And I get to do all this with the most amazing team, family, really. We look out for each other and keep each other going and it makes the work of bringing enthusiasm for the sea to our guests extremely gratifying.

Even when it’s cold, I jump in and know I’m right where I am supposed to be.

Efcharisto Greece, can’t wait for next year.

Love,

Heather