Kos to Kefalonia on a Cat

By Roy Leask

Father and son, in their self built Wharram Tiki 26 catamaran, embark on a 450 mile maiden voyage in midwinter across Greece, from the island of Kos to Kefalonia. Much more than a sailing story, staying the course through the Greek islands becomes a rite of passage for themselves, their friendship, for their families and, ultimately, for the boat.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roy Leask
• Release date: Apr 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215432983

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Dedication

Kos to Kefalonia, on a cat | Father and son, in a self-build Wharram catamaran, survive a winter passage across Greece

To people of the sea, James and Hanneke, for opening up an untraveled world.

Kos to Kefalonia, on a cat

Father and son, in a self-build Wharram catamaran, survive a winter passage across Greece

The call came on Thursday . ‘'Hey, Dad. There's a weather window, all next week. It could take us all the way to Monemvasia, maybe even round the Peleponese.’ 

It was my son, Andrew, freelance skipper, calling from Greece where he’s based. Over the Christmas holiday we had talked about sailing our self-build Wharram Tiki 26 from where it was built in Kos to its new home in Kefalonia, a winter passage of over 400nm east to west across Greece. Seven years in the making, in a workshop next to a carpenter on Apolonas street, Dragonfly would be embarking on her maiden cruise, delayed for the past three years by Covid.

My winter gear, spread out in the spare room, was good to go - a Rab 900 sleeping bag and silk liner, down jacket and mittens from Kathmandu, two woolly hats from Namche Bazaar, assorted Helly Hansen and Icebreaker base layers, fleeces, all from an Everest base camp trek, and a Musto BR2 sailing jacket. 

Flying out of Bristol on Sunday morning, and connecting with SkyExpress to Kos, it was mid afternoon as the airport taxi drew up opposite the Tiki, parked on her trailer in Kos marina. Andrew barely glanced up as he rollered on swathes of dark blue anti-foul to the deep V-shaped hulls. A paint brush was thrust into my hand to take care of the fiddly bits while any notion of leisure quickly evaporated under an Aegean blue sky. In fading light the anti-fouling was finished in readiness for an early launch next morning. But over a few beers and a bite at the Marina  cafe, it became clear that we weren't ready. Checks on the rigging, the sails, battery and electrics, storing provisions and how the boat was balanced, was better sorted out on the hard than in the water. Michalis, our boat launcher, was put on hold, until Tuesday.

The weather window was still just open, had we departed on that Tuesday afternoon. But by then, a storm jib, a necessary headsail option, was on order from Sladco, the local sailmaker, a newly purchased  deep cycle battery had to be installed, new LED nav lights fitted, fire extinguisher refilled, flares updated and life jackets checked. More time enabled Andrew to rig the boat cover as a tent over the cockpit, using the gaff and boom, and with a new cockpit light Burns night was celebrated over a few drams. By Friday, the boat was in order but I wasn't. Increasing stomach pain and nausea compelled me to visit Kos Medicare where an X-ray revealed a major blockage in  the intestines. An enema failed but the nuclear option - necking a whole bottle of X-Prep - did the trick. That and a raft of suppositories accompanied me for the rest of the trip. 

Alarms were set for 4am and an hour later on Sunday 29 January the little Tiki, Greek flagged, Kos