Thursday 31st August 200, the date myself, wife Helen and son Neil (18 years) had been looking forward to since booking our Sunsail flotilla holiday before Christmas, to ensure we got the boat we wanted.

A swift 3 hour flight from Gatwick and we were deposited at Volos, a remote military airfield,where the arrival of 'the big charter plane' was obviously a major event. Two hours later and we are shown our home for the next 2 weeks; a Benetau Oceanis 28 called DORO. A well equipped yacht, but we felt the layout was not quite as good as the Moody 28 we had on our previous charter.

The flotilla comprises a lead boat containing the flotilla skipper Mick, Mike the engineer and the hostess Sarah, our boat and 8 others, ranging from 2 Oceanis 28s to a Jeanneau 40, the majority were Benetau 34s. We gradually got to know the other crews well, they ranged from 2 to 5 people on board, most were in the 30 to 60 age range, but there were 2 six year olds and a sprightly couple in their 70's.

A fair bit of sailing knowledge is expected and without it you would, struggle because apart from a quick 10 minute brief on 'how it all works' there is no further instruction. The normal daily format was a briefing near the boats around 9.30am to tell you where you needed to be by 6.30pm that evening. We are also told good places to anchor up for swimming stops on route, points of history (1954 earthquake destroyed this town), bits of Greek legend (this is where the Cyclops lived) and a Greek word of the day to learn, such as Eee-Ferrets-Toe-Polly (thank you very much). The rest of the day is then up to you. It is all pretty free and easy and there is no need to sail along one behind the other like a string of ducks.

Winds in the area normally follow a regular pattern. Pretty still for most of the morning, but the breeze begins building around 1lam and is usually up to F3 to 4 by early afternoon, remains constant until the early evening and then goes calm again.

By now, I had already been snorkelling in the harbour, to retrieve my very waterlogged mobile phone. The passport, money and return tickets had all been fished out last night after Helen, a little unsure of the footing and having sampled some of the local wine, deposited the whole lot into the Aegean the previous night! Anyway, we were now speaking again and we set off at lunchtime for the delights of the Sporades.

A couple of hours sailing on a beat brought us to a secluded beach for our first swim off the boat. Then off towards our first overnight stop at a small island Paleo Trikeri. The wind is pretty well on our port beam for this leg and without even trying we are rattling along at 7.3 knots. The lead boat supervises our first landings (it's not easy parking 10 yachts of various sizes, bow or stern to) onto one small length of pier, that you would be struggling to park our 28-footer alongside like we do in the UK. It also makes getting ashore stepping from bow to bow interesting!

Dropping the anchor is an art form - besides the normal bow anchor, most yachts in the Med also have a kedge anchor fixed in some way to the pushpit for dropping off the stern. So you have to ensure that you are dead square on the quay, drop either the bow or stern anchor around 4 boat lengths out, in such a way as your anchor does not cross those from the other yachts all around and not too far out, it's easy to run out of rope before you reach the quay!

Subsequent days followed a similar pattern:- up, breakfast, briefing, relax, prepare the yacht for sailing, sail, stop for a swim, lunch, on to the destination, park up, drinks on the poop deck, wash and scrub up and off to the tavernas for food and booze. (Very good value - in the region of £25 for the 3 of us for as much as we could eat and a couple of drinks each).

Relaxing after a 'hard' day's sail

The daily sails vary in length, ranging from about 26 miles some days but only 5 to 6 on others. We experienced all kinds of weather, from dead calm to a maximum wind of F6/7 with a rough sea coming out of Skopelos. We had sun, mist, dark, rain, pelting rain, hail, thunder, lightning, hot sun and dolphins all in one day travelling from Skiathos near the end of the holiday. There were a few incidents on the holiday. Two boats ran aground in separate events, another caught its anchor rope round the prop, but our most anxious moments came on the day of the fleet Bar-B-Q. We all met up in a bay on an uninhabited island near Alonnissos. We all rafted up together in a star formation with our stern anchors set and the engineer shinned up the mast and took photographs with everyone's cameras. All is well as we set off in our rubber boat for the beach and a monster Bar-B-Q session. During the evening, the wind picked up and all the yachts started rolling into one another. The fleet skipper and crew decide the raft should be broken up and in the dark we hear various noises and engines, and are later told that we have all been anchored separately out in the bay (new game of find your boat in the dark!).

Around 2am (somewhat the worse for wear) we are towed by the lead boat to our yacht, now anchored in 9 metres of water. Despite the booze, I am strangely uneasy about our position. We have had trouble with our bow anchor not holding on a number of occasions and I anchor in as shallow water as possible wherever I am. This is not easy in this area as the sea bed shelves very steeply and you have to park almost on the beach! Back to the story, I take our bearings for the direction of the beach and then off to bed, but cannot settle. At 4am I feel I must get up and check we are ok. Depth is now 24 metres and all I can see in the black of the night is the riding lights of the rest of the fleet in the distance off our bow, not near our stern like before. 'We've go to get out of here" I shout at the still sleeping crew. Next thing I know, Helen is on deck with her handbag packed (including the now dry but wrinkled passports), having interpreted my shout as 'ABANDON SHIP'. She is persuaded that our position is not that serious - yet. After l0 minutes of motoring forward by hand-held torchlight, passing the yacht we had drifted past with our anchor dangling, we were back where we started. The anchor is dropped again, the kedge is brought forward and dropped as well! We don't drift again, but only sleep fitfully after this - it had not been a pleasant experience, in the pitch black, surprisingly cold night and also somewhat alcoholically challenged. I was very grateful that the fire on the beach was still burning and the glow helped 'to give our bearings'.

A view from the crows' nest of the fleet rafted up, at BBQ Bay

In total we sailed 214 miles in the 2 weeks, visiting the islands of Skiathos, Skopelos and Alonnissos. We had no other really scary moments, but the harbour at Skiathos town is just at the end of the island runway, under the flight path. Looking up at the wheels of a Boeing 757 seemingly just a few feet above our mast was another 'interesting' experience.

We all had a marvellous time, met some very nice people and will definitely go again at some time in the future.

Roger Badcock - Nov, 2000