Δευτέρα = Monday, παίζω = play.

Today’s Greek Lesson:

παίζω = paízo = play.

My nest was so cozy all night, and I was in it before 10 last night. Alina and I had done a quick starkers dip and lap around the boat before bed. The bioluminescence beneath us was lovely, and so with the clear, moonless sky, we had stars 360º.

I love to sleep after a late night dip. A reset for my busy brain, skin tingling, I climb into my little cabin nest and curl up with all of the extra blankets on board. Ok ok there are also some lifejackets in there, and a few other things that don’t fit anywhere else. But I hung a pretty scarf which softens the fiberglass walls, and even hung some fan-zine pics that Simon surprised me by decorating my cabin with last year. Now they are part of my boat nest aesthetic.

Sleeping on a boat is a special thing but can take a little getting used to. There’s the gentle rocking which can lull you to sleep, but can also throw off your equilibrium if you wake up and forget you're at sea, as Roger said happened to him last night. We love a good breeze as it keeps cool dry air moving through opened hatches for cabin climate comfort, but it also means vibrating rigging and all sorts of regular and sporadic jingle jangles. Everything hums just a little bit. Once you get used to it, it all makes sense to the senses, and then I find it hypnotic and mostly wonderful. It completes the experience of where I am.

0700 came quick. I probably would have slept right through it except that Skipper started the engines, as planned, like clockwork, so that we could move around the corner for our morning swim.

No other boats in sight, we dropped anchor on the rocky bottom. When we jumped in, we realized we could see straight to the sea floor - probably 50 feet - the water is so, so clear here. We swam the short distance to a tiny islet for a quick circumnavigation of it. On the back side we ooohed and ahhed at the cliff faces, steep and lovely, topped with the silvery green of olive trees. Below the surface, we saw some sea stars and sea urchins which gave me a chance to school our gang on the pentamerous symmetry and water vascular system of echinoderms <pushes glasses back up bridge of nose>. They were either fascinated, or faked it very well to be kind.

From the island we headed back to the shore of the mainland and made for a small, shallow cave, the first of likely many for this group. The Greek coastline is a symphony of textures, full of smooth, jagged and crumbling surfaces, carpets of sea grasses skirting around underwater monoliths and archways, tunnels and chutes. The submarine architecture, the sculpture-ness of it all never ceases to intrigue me. I want to swim around every rock, into every crag and cranny. I remind myself that this kind of exploration is a new kind of swimming for many of our guests, and I try to ease them into the idea. You CAN swim between those rocks. You CAN swim into that crack or cave. You CAN look under that ledge. I remember my brother in law, two years ago joining a SwimVacation in Greece, saying with some amazement, “I didn’t know you could DO that” when I showed him how to swim under an underwater archway. It’s almost like we are so trained to follow the lines and swim from A to B that we forget to think beyond the borders of what we've done before. 

So I swam between rocks and they followed, Alina bringing up the rear. Kevin and Susan admitted it made them a little uneasy - Kevin described it as “the closeness, the there-ness” of the rocks. By the time we turned around to head back toward the boat, everyone seemed a little more accustomed to the idea. I will watch with delight to see where their comfort levels land after a week of swim-spolration of Greece’s rocky water offerings.

And so out of the water to second breakfast. Sometimes it feels as if Lou lou and I are in direct competition for how our guests spend their time. I like to have them swim, she prefers to have them eat. And she won the mid-day, with a spectacular lunch of Greek dishes that took a boozy turn when the ouzo came out. Now you’re breaking Grandma’s rules, kids! Well done!

WIth full bellies and lighter heads, the 5 dropped into beds for naps and Romesie piloted us to our next location and Lou Lou set to business on another meal. When I came into the galley to edit, she was mixing batter for a cake that will soak and stew in a sweet and spicy syrup until tomorrow night’s dessert. But of course there is the small matter of the batter bowl, which I sacrificed myself to. I’d call it doing dishes, but she’d have my head (and never give me another batter bowl to lick).

As we backed in to Port Leone where we now sit, and Skipper decided he wanted to secure Pnoe with an anchor and two stern lines. These are cleated to the back of the boat, while their free ends are swum to shore, and in this case, tied to two sturdy trees. The procedure requires the quick and accurate tying of a bowline knot around the base of the tree, with a thick soggy line and a fair amount of pressure from the crew on board. New to knot tying, Alina swam the two lines to shore and expertly tied them as if it was nothing at all. She swam back to applause from me, Lou Lou and Romesie - a proud moment for sure. (Simon, you’ll get there!! XO)

This afternoon we’ll swim them around to see the sites of this lovely Bay on Kalamos Island. I’ll record some underwater footage of their strokes so Alina can review with them to help find maximum efficiency. We better swim long, because Lisa won’t take it easy on us for dinner.

Alina swims one of two stern lines to shore where she expertly ties a bowline to a tree.

The guests were in long before I was ready this afternoon! I guess their naps did them right after their ouzo imbibe. I recorded a little video of each swimmer’s stroke for later analysis, and we made our way around this bay in what turned out to be the windiest part of the day. No trouble - they all took it in stride, even Roger who is relatively new to open water swimming. He’s a little anxious about it, but he’s doing it anyway and improving at an exponential rate. One of the things we love to do to foster comfort in the water is play. This swim was the perfect outing for it, as the surface conditions were sporty as we rounded the point featuring a ruin of an ancient windmill. The view is exquisite here, and how often to you get to swim and frolic in front of something so old and cool? Almost never. We commenced bobbing.

Bobbing, which is just that - bobbing up and down the water in a way that means you are submerged one moment and in the air the next - teaches a swimmer to breathe consistently and constantly while swimming. Inhale when up, exhale bubbles when down, again and again. It’s also just plain fun, and pretty hard not to enjoy. I consider Roger bobbing in front of an ancient windmill the highest point in this day full of highpoints.

After playful bobbing in the waves we swam with a robust tailwind across the deepest part of the bay to the boat. There were stops for gabbing and an examination of a giant, empty mollusc shell I retrieved from the bottom. We discussed the goats on shore. These are the things that delight when you surrender to play.

On board, we warmed ourselves in sunny spots on deck, while Lou Lou prepared my favorite canape of all - warmed, split figs with feta, drizzled with tahini honey. Don’t bother trying this at home. Unless you live in Greece, you don’t have the figs for it.

Dinner did even more damage, with skewers of lamb or shrimp and warmed zaganaki cheese. There were incredible tomatoes and a zesty slaw and oh yes pass the pita so I can load it up with this tzatziki, parakalor (please). Dessert was a warm apple raisin compote atop the world’s most decadent yogurt. Uncle. 

We’ll have more play and exploration tomorrow, and more food, no doubt, as Lou Lou will not rest unless we are busting from our bathers.

The gang are chatting away. I am done early tonight so I’ll go join them. At some point Alina and I will jump in for our night splash, word has it a guest or two might join.

Rest well, my playful charges. There’s more fun (and figs) to be had in the morning.

Love,

Heather