Fenikie
Fenikie is a small town a long days sail South from Antalya and we joined by experienced sailors Maureen and Michael for several weeks. On the way we saw Mt. Olympus which seems to generate its own weather as we watched clouds develop right at its' peak. An area below the mountain known as Chimarea constantly has flames erupting from its' fissured surface and was supposedly where the first Olympic Flame began. Unfortunately the flames have subsided so much that they are difficult to see even at night. Two theories about the origin of the flames exist; the first is that a very troublesome dragon was buried by a god and although the dragon died, his fiery breath lives on. The second has to do with superheated methane gas that seeps up and spontaneously ignites in this volcanically volatile region, I like the first one. Finikie is famous for its' Lycian rock tombs dating from around 600 BC. The size and location of the tombs probably has a lot to do with their importance and affluence but was no deterrent to looters who centuries ago broke into them for the jewelry that was interred there. The amphitheater below the tombs was built much later by the Romans and was under re construction.
A third site from a the 4th century AD was the church of St. Nichols or as he is known to the Muslims Noel Baba, Father Christmas. St. Nichols was the Bishop of Myra and was the son of a wealthy merchant. He inherited much of this money and distributed it among the poor of the area. He tried to give it anonymously by throwing a small sack of coins through an open window but one house where a daughter needed a dowry had its' windows closed because it was cold. The resourceful Nick threw it down the chimney and it landed on some socks the ladies of the house were darning and a legend was born. While the church is old and still has some paintings, it has been highly re constructed and probably looks little as it did at the time. Even his sarcophagus was violated; his bones moved to Italy where they remain today.
KALE
A few hours sail to a pleasant anchorage where both ancient and medieval sites are again found. The most obvious thing upon approaching is the Byzantine fort that dominates the hilltop. A long climb up is rewarded with views of the harbor and many chances to buy souvenirs from the locals. The fort had a small theater (odeon) as well as the usual stone walls several feet thick. What is interesting are all the Lycian Tombs which were left scattered around when the fort was built a thousand years later. Not so obvious about Kale when entering is the sunken city below your keel. This was a large city built on the waters edge before it suffered a massive earthquake causing the land to subside and the sea to rush in. One the sarcophagi still stands where it was built but now it is in the middle of the harbor. Small islands scattered about are the remnants of foundations and stairways of destroyed homes, now inhabited by goats. Much of the city is under just 12 ft. of water with the walls, ceiling tiles and store goods still intact.
KAS (pronounced Kosh)
A small but busy tourist town where most of the gullets ferrying tourists to Kale Koy are based. Even with all the tourists we enjoyed our stay because it was attractive, had many restaurants to choose from and of course the necessary E -Mail connection. The harbor was crowded but there was a spot and we slipped into it quite easily and were soon secured. Boats came and went but we always had to be ready to fend off the never ending parade of gullets. When an 80 ft long and 25ft wide boat is on either side you feel squished but the captains are quite skilled in threading them into tight places. The town was built over hundreds of years and here too there are ancient sarcophagi which are scattered through the town, one was even in a parking lot. It is always interesting to me that even though they had been broken into, vandalized and the bodies removed hundreds of years ago, they have been allowed to stand, sometimes in the middle of a street. The other reason Kas will live in our memories is the Magic Carpet Shop. Yes, yet more rugs, but a fairly honest and straight forward rug merchant. Elizabeth bough a few more and I had an interesting time trying to find a storage space for them. Hang gliding excursions leave daily from the town dock and return in the middle to late afternoon with a breathtaking landing on the town dock right behind the CHRISTIANNE. Kas was very typical of the many Turkish towns we visited with the town dock, dockside tavernas and the many small shops in town. All have a greater or lesser degree of tourism but all were friendly and we never had difficulty with negations in the shops.
BOZCA ADA
We left the Greek Island of Lesvos and were bound for Canakkale, Turkey in the Dardanelle's . Canakkale was a port of entry where we could clear customs and check in to Turkey. The meltemi was really blowing that day and our progress dead to windward was a slow, painful bash into the oncoming waves. Bozca ada, an island off the coast of Turkey, lay in front of us and several boats ahead of us were pulling into the harbor. Since Bozca ada was a Turkish possession and we had not yet checked in after leaving Greek waters, it would be an illegal stop. The wind and waves continued to build and we dug out the necessary charts figuring we would pull in and see what happened; I figured they would just throw us out rather than arresting us, this was Turkey after all, not Egypt. Sometimes its better to say "I'm sorry" than to ask permission, I thought. Once in the harbor the wind and seas were instantly down, there was spot at the end of the dock and several people standing ready to take our lines; it was looking good so far. The anchor was dropped and we backed in without incident. I didn't have long to wait to find out my fate as the dock master was coming my way checking in several boats all seeking refuge. Our Greek flag was down and I had not had time to put up the quarantine flag so I just stepped off the boat with the Turkish and Q flag in hand. The dock master spoke very little English but I was able to communicate our situation and asked to stay for a day till the wind went down. "No problem" was the reply as I gladly paid the $6.00 dock fee. This was a well protected harbor, we were anchored and tied down securely and I felt very relaxed listening to the wind howl through the rigging; it was time to see the town. This was definitely not a tourist town, few people spoke English, and the only restaurant was outdoors in the town square. They did have one internet connection and, of course, a castle. We poked around town, found a great vegetable market and bought several different types of olives. We topped off the day with dinner in the town square. There was no menu, instead we were escorted into the kitchen where we were shown the dishes they were cooking that day and encouraged to point to the things we wanted for our dinner. We choose green beans with minced meat and tomato sauce, shepherd salad, a tomato and cucumber mix, and Turkish mousaka. We wondered what the weather would be tomorrow. The day dawned with the wind still howling and the thought of leaving was not appealing. I tracked down the dock master, "no problem" and another $6.00 and we were set. In the end we spent 3 days until the wind subsided to a reasonable level and left early in the morning with several other boats and heading for Canakkale to check in properly.
The Dardanelle's
I spent an entire day running back and forth to the offices of customs, harbor master, passport control and health division so they could all stamp my forms and send me to another office. Most have little interest or knowledge in processing the information but all feel that they are the most important office or bureau and the world would stop without their stamp. Finally after revisiting each office at least twice and $35.00 poorer I was checked in and had my cruising log. The log is something you must always carry on board, have a complete listing of all crew with their passport numbers, date of birth and place of issue which no one has ever looked at. Canakkale (pronounced Shanacalie) was definitely a tourist town with hordes gathered to board buses to see Troy. We hired a car and guide to take us the 20 miles inland to see the fabled site. Troy of course has a long history of strife as successive populations built a new cities over the ruble of the old ones. The ruins are not laid out nicely for easy interpretation but just a large earthen covered hill with numerous trenches cut through. The first and most infamous of many to explore the area was German archeologist Schulman, who did little archeology but a lot of bulldozing in a search Helen's jewels which he found. His promise to turn them over to the museum sponsoring the project had to wait until his wife tired of them and had herself photographed many times wearing them. Since then many excavations have been done in a more scientific manner uncovering over 8 levels of different cities but all so intertwined that it was impossible to tell where one civilization left off and the next started. The problem is that many of the digs at least in the past were sponsored by foreign countries who would then abscond with the valuable artifacts leaving Turkey with little. The German and British museums are the best places to see Turkish treasures. Elizabeth and Christianne had to climb into the rather fake and as they found out rather rickety Trojan horse for a photo op. We did see the, legend has it, actual ramp that the original Trojan horse was pulled up upon. I don't know if I can fully believe it but I remain impressed anyway.
After 2 days in Canakkale it was time to move on toward Istanbul. Our exit from the very small crowded harbor with the wind still blowing down on the dock was exciting but fortunately nowhere near as exciting as coming in. The trip up the Dardanelle's was uneventful even with the opposing wind and current. The war memorial to the very bloody battle of Gallipoli in 1915 between Turkey and the ANZAC forces was a reminder of just how turbulent this area has been. We were through the Dardanelle's and still had some light left so we carried on to the small town of Kemer and anchored in front of the town dock. There was a sheltered marina but it appeared full of fishing boats and since the weather was settled the anchorage seemed fine. The next morning we ventured into town. Several men appeared at the seawall to help pull the dinghy up, they had been watching us all morning and I think we were the first outsiders to visit in a long time. They were very curious about us, and were very helpful getting Christianne out of the dinghy and onto the dock which isn't always easy. No one spoke any English but we enjoyed a glass of tea and at the urging of the local men (there were no women anywhere in sight) we purchased a pound or so of Borek (filo pastry covered meat combination). The borek was sold at a glass covered cart and the vendor proceeded to chop the pastry with a cleaver a hundred times until it no longer resembled the former lovely pastry. Now it looked more like meat and filo crumbs, not so appetizing as before, but he weighed it and we paid. Had I known how delicious this meat pie would be I would have purchased three times as much. We paid the equivalent of $1.30 for about 1.5 pounds of the tastiest meat pie I've ever experienced. Together with the requisite tomatoes and cucumbers, olives and feta cheese, we were eating well and proceeding on schedule.
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