A couple of years ago I sailed with a group of friends from Naplesto Menorca by way of Sardinia and Corsica. Although it was a wonderfultrip, we kept hearing, throughout our journey, a haunting refrain: "It'sbetter in Turkey." Turkey, we were told , is a sailor's paradise, havingmore consistent wind, less pollution, more interesting things to see, betterfood, and lower prices.
Unable to resist, four members of the original crew recently embarkedon a two-week cruise along the western portion of Turkey's Mediterraneancoast. The foursome consisted of two Britons--Simon, a BBC news editor,and Stewart, a construction contractor-- and two Americans: Harry, a NewYork investment banker, and me, a writer who generally focuses on internationalbusiness and economics. We were joined by a newcomer: Ben, another American,who, thanks to a Fulbright grant, had spent the previous year living inIstanbul.
In spite of our diversity, we share the conviction that no vacationis better than a sailing vacation. Our faith grows out of the premise thatholidays should have so many dimensions and satisfactions that the routinesof normal life are relegated t the subconscious. We like sailing becauseit combines the kind of tourism that usually comes about with the helpof a car, the water- based recreation that is generally associated withbeach houses, the Big Chill-like social interaction that typical occursin rustic cabins, and, of course, sailing itself.
The Turkish yachting season extends all the way from April throughOctober, but we decided on late August, a time that is sometimes uncomfortablywarm but that offers the most substantial winds. Several months beforewe planned to go, we scoured sailing magazines for advertisements fromTurkey-based charter operators. After we n Istanbul and as we traveled,by ferryboat, along the Bosporus as far north as the Black Sea, visitingas many of the great historic sites as we could. (Actually, Harry and Ifound that we could rely on English to communicate with many of the bothin Istanbul and as we traveled, by ferryboat, along the Bosporus as farnorth as the Black Sea, visiting as many of the great historic sites aswe could. (Actually, Harry and I found that we could rely on English tocommunicate with many of the both in Istanbul and as we traveled, by ferryboat,along the Bosporus as far north as the Black Sea, visiting as many of thegreat historic sites as we could. (Actually, Harry and I found that wecould rely on Englboth in Istanbul and as we traveled, by ferryboat, alongthe Bosporus as far north as the Black Sea, visiting as many of the greathistoric sites as we could. (Actually, Harry and I found that we couldrely on English to communicate with many of the bofter dusk we joined fourother yachts in Cleopatra's Bay, so named because the ruins there are saidto include the baths where the legendary beauty immersed herself in moisturizinggoat's milk. Within minutes of our arrival a man appeared from Just afterdusk we joined four other yachts in Cleopatra's Bay, so named because theruins there are said to include the baths where the legendary beauty immersedherself in moisturizing goat's milk. Within minutes of our arrival a manappeared from Just after dusk we joined four other yachts in Cleopatra'sBay, so named because the ruins there are said to include the baths wherethe legendary beauty immersed herself in moisturizing goat's milk. Withinminutes of our arrival a man appeared from Just after dusk we joined fourother yachts in Cleopatra's Bay, so named because the ruins there are saidto include the baths where the legendary beauty immersed herself in moisturizinggoat's milk. Within minutes of our arrival a man appeared from Ju smalloutdoor restaurant near the shore, calling out to see if we wanted to orderdinner. Ben told him what we'd like, and then we took a quick swim andwent ashore for the kind of simple, well- prepared meal that would becomeour staple: a first cou se of yogurt-based salads, followed by grilledlamb and fish. The air was warm, and we lingered long into the evening.
Sailing through a narrow channel in the Gulf of Fethiye the nextmorning, we entered an expansive but sheltered body of water that has beena favorite sailing ground for thousands of years. Empowered by a forcefulbreeze, we began to get a sense of op Girl's capabilities. In choosinga boat to charter, one is always called has been ruled by some of the mostpowerful empires in history, and the coast we chose to cruise containsruins from several cultures, including the Hellenic, Hellenistic, Roman,Byzantine, and Ottoman. And although the shortcomings of modern Turkeyhas been ruled by some of the most powerful empires in history, and thecoast we chose to cruise contains ruins from several cultures, includingthe Hellenic, Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman. And althoughthe shortcomings of modern Turkey has been ruled by some of the most powerfulempires in history, and the coast we chose to cruise contains ruins fromseveral cultures, including the Hellenic, Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine,and Ottoman. And although the shortcomings of modern Turkey has been ruledby some of the most powerful empires in history, anTurkey has been ruledby some of the most powerful empires in history, and the coast we choseto cruise contains ruins from several cultures, including the Hellenic,Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman. And although the shortcomingsof modern Tuurkey's infrastructure make it a struggle to get to many archaeologicalsites by land, most of them are easily reached from the water. Indeed,when we dropped anchor in the strait that separates Gemiler from the mainland,we were only a few feet from what had probably been several small housesin the late Byzantine period, some 900 years ago. After we used our rubberdinghy to ferry ourselves to the island, we began exploring what had obviouslybeen a very wealthy and densely developed community. In addition to housesand at least two churches, we found a colonnaded archway that was so wellpreserved that large sections of its curving roof remained in place. Wewere the only people there. y apparent. For example, the mosque that wecould see from our berth obviously had been a Greek Orthodox Church untila minaret was added. The Greeks left back in the 1920s, after Turkey andGreece negotiated a treaty that encouraged Turks and readily apparent.For example, the mosque that we could see from our berth obviously hadbeen a Greek Orthodox Church until a minaret was added. The Greeks leftback in the 1920s, after Turkey and Greece negotiated a treaty that encouragedTurks and readily apparent. For example, the mosque that we could see fromour berth obviously had been a Greek Orthodox Church until a minaret wasadded. The Greeks left back in the 1920s, after Turkey and Greadily apparent.For example, the mosque that we could see from our berth obviously hadbeen a Greek Orthodox Church until a minaret was added. The Greeks leftback in the 1920s, after Turkey and Greece negotiated a treaty that encouragedTurks and rereeks to return to their native countries. This fueled theage-old animosity between Turkey and Greece, which continues today to suchan extent that most Turkey-based charter companies forbid their customersto land in Greece. Top Girl's owners, however, had told us that Kastellorizon,a large Greek island that lies just a few miles from Turkey, was generallyfree of officials and therefore an acceptable risk.
Making it our next destination, we entered the island's only harborto see a picture-perfect line of whitewashed houses with multicolored doorsand shutters. We soon discovered that the image is as thin as a movie set.The owner of the quayside rest urant where we had dinner told us that thevillage had been an Italian-ruled fishing community with more than 15,000inhabitants at the start of the Second World War, but that the Allied forcesconsidered it important enough that they occupied and destroyed almostall of it. The island has never recovered; today it has only about 200residents. When Simon and I made an early-morning climb to the highestpoint overlooking the harbor, we saw scores of modern-day ruins, and weeven came across the large shell of an unexploded bomb.
From Kastellorizon we sailed to the nearby Turkish city of Kas.Resting on a slope situated between a large bay and a line of cliffs, someof them containing Lycian rock tombs that have the facades of temples,the town is known for its Hellenistic t eater and also for its nightlife.We therefore visited the theater, taking photographs of it as the sun setbehind the cliffs; and after enjoying an elaborate seafood dinner, which,like dinners everywhere we went, cost less than $10 per person, we driftedinto an outdoor cafe where two Turkish folk singers were performing. Wemet a group of Turkish women at the next table, and Simon and I went withthem to a rock club where the blaring music showed no signs of abatingeven as we left, sometime after 3:00 a.m.
In the routine we developed, most days began slowly. AlthoughStewart encouraged early risers (mostly me) to delay their use of the creakingstairs that led from the saloon to the cockpit, I generally woke up soonafter dawn to make journal entries nd to take long swims. By the time Ireturned to the boat, Stewart had made the coffee--no one else ever did--andSimon had begun to prod us into deciding on the day's overall plan. Becausethe midday heat could be uncomfortable, we tried to do most of our sightseeingat the start of the day, leaving the middle, when the winds were betteranyway, for sailing. By midafternoon we had generally found a place tospend the night; our arrivals were uniformly followed by swimming and snorkeling,freshwater showers, cocktails and pistachios, and, ultimately, dinner andstargazing.
After Kas we continued on to Kekova Island, the farthest we gotfrom Gocek. During two days there we circumnavigated the five-mile-longisland and visited Kalekoy, a hamlet notable for its well-preserved medievalcastle and a sprawling hilltop necro olis of large sarcophagi. We alsohired a small fishing boat that took us directly over what had been theancient city of Simena. Built in the fifth century b.c., the city subsequentlysank below the water level as a result of one of the calamitous earthquakesthat have punctuated Turkey's long history. Peering through the water withthe help of a glass-bottomed bucket, we spotted walls, mosaics, and evenceramic jugs.
When we left Kekova Sound to return to the Mediterranean, we discovereda heavy wind of close to thirty knots. For me, there is an elemental thrillin using the wind for leverage and adjusting the angle and shape of thesails to achieve maximum spee . The more wind the better. But althoughI was eager to use sails to capitalize on the powerful force, the restof the crew overruled me, deciding that we'd get where we wanted to gofaster by using the engine to head closer to the source of the wind. Theywere probably right. It was the kind of day that reminds nautical interlopersthat open waters, even when they are warm and emerald green, can suddenlyturn dangerous. Even though the sky remained a cloudless blue, as it hadever since we left Gocek, the waves that were crashing over the deck madeus so cold that we were forced to fashion protective garments out of garbagebags. (All but one of us had brazenly left our foul-weather gear at home.)When Stewart took the helm, he went so far as to use a diving mask to protecthis eyes and nose from the onslaught. For the rest of us, shivering inspite of our plastic gowns, the sight of him wrapped up in his big baby-blueplastic sack, gulping down air through his mouth, provided welcome comicrelief.
Most sailors have nothing but scorn for powerboats-- Americanscall them "stinkpots"; Britons call them "gin palaces." Since this snobberybecomes particularly acute in the midst of difficult conditions, it wasironic that when we escaped the rough s as by entering a sheltered cove,we spotted a large powerboat that was carrying several American friends.It was a "Turkish gulet," a kind of boat that was designed specificallyfor charter holidays and that has become increasingly popular in recentyears. Boarding the sixty-foot wooden-hulled craft--which had masts althoughit never used any sail--we could readily see just how different their experiencewas from ours. While we charted courses and hoisted sails and braved challengingseas, our friends spent their days lounging around a vast deck, waitingfor a four-man professional crew to serve meals and move their motel-likecraft from place to place. Although there is something to be said for theirapproach (they were, after all, seeing many of the same places we were,and the magic of sailing is, unaccountably, invisible to some), we werehappy not to be a part of it.
Three days later, suddenly the last day of our voyage, we hadreturned to the Gulf of Fethiye and were enjoying what was probably oursingle best day of sailing. When I took my last turn at the helm, the windwas constant, at fifteen to twenty knots the seas were relatively calm,and we were surrounded by the dramatic terrain that continued to astoundus. As we hurtled along at an invigorating speed, my faith in the perfectionof sailing vacations had never been stronger.
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G. Bruce Knecht is a writer who specializes in internationalbusiness and economics. He is currently a Reuter fellow at Oxford University,in England.
Transmitted: 93-12-30 13:14:04 EST