Galaxidi

“The Wind Had Other Plans…”

An unexpected early closure of the Corinth Canal forces us to hurry. We make it through just in time before emerging into the Gulf of Corinth, the long inland sea separating the Peloponnese from mainland Greece. As so often while cruising, our only goal is to find a sheltered anchorage for the night. Safe havens are surprisingly scarce in this part of the gulf, but eventually we drop anchor at Galaxidi, a village some 60 nautical miles west of the canal on the northern shore. We intend to spend just one night before continuing westward. The wind has other plans. A depression settles over the area, forcing us to extend our stay by several days. Then, without really knowing why, something happens. This place just won’t let us go. Some harbors are nothing more than overnight stops. Others somehow slow the passage of time. In Galaxidi, the days begin to stretch effortlessly. When the weather finally improves, we could leave... but we no longer feel any desire to do so. The village has escaped mass tourism. A few Athenians spend weekends here, a handful of cruising yachts stop by, and two or three boats seem to have forgotten they ever had another destination. Life continues year-round. The cafés stay open, everyone knows one another, and the waterfront never depends solely on the summer season.

A Simple Life, at Anchor

The setting is magnificent. Two perfectly sheltered anchorages embrace a small harbor tucked between green islets, with the slopes of Mount Parnassus rising in the background. It’s hard to imagine that Delphi - the ancient “navel of the world” - lies only forty minutes away by road, while in winter the country’s largest ski resort draws Athenians to the snowy slopes of Parnassus. Entering the bay is straightforward. The channel is wide and unobstructed. Once around the headland, the landscape gradually closes behind you, the sea becomes calm, and silence takes over. Inside the harbor, boats berth the traditional Greek way: anchor in the sand before slowly reversing back to the quay. It’s a maneuver that requires a little anticipation but proves very comfortable in these sheltered conditions. Outside the harbor, two spacious anchorages offer equally good protection, with excellent holding in sand and mud. In the height of summer, a few elegant yachts and large sailing boats discreetly enliven the waterfront. The atmosphere is lively without ever becoming ostentatious. By the time we arrive in early October, however, they have almost all disappeared. Only a handful of sailors remain: a Spanish couple, some Danes, an Irishman, a French sailor... a small international community that naturally gathers over a glass of ouzo at Café Bar O.K. Before long, a routine settles in. Mornings often begin with a visit to Kostas, the owner of the local chandlery and one of the harbor’s best-known characters. Thursdays mean market day, when we stock up on fresh seasonal fruit and vegetables. The rest of our time ...