Before we knocked off last night, we changed our mooring to a buoy (which we were offered earlier but refused). The way it works around here is that if you make free use of a jetty or buoy then there is an expectation that you will eat at their restaurant. Which is not what we had planned.
It proved fortuitous, since after some stiff breeze during the night, Aiden found that his special shorts had blown off deck. Lost forever. The water was so clear however that we could see them lying on the seabed 10 metres deep. No problem for Jared who simply dived down, almost out of sight and re-emerged with shorts in hand. Impressive for a 11 year old.
Initially good wind but it died off somewhat. Then it picked up with a vengeance from behind and we managed to reach 9 knots at one point. Crossing between the island of Kissel Ada and the mainland we encountered confused sea and accelerated wind which kept Anton busy on the helm.


Needed to crack on to Marmaris, but all were desperate for a swim so we pulled into a cove called Caycagiz Koyu for lunch. During the space of an hour the bay was invaded with one Gulet after the other, with throbbing music and loud announcements. During his dive, Anton noted pieces of old pots and urns embedded into the coral. Bit of history here. Anyway we could not stand the now crowded bay and set off on the final leg to Marmaris.
Fuelling at the fuel depot should be straightforward. Not so when the wind is pinning the boat to a rough concrete quayside, being the only space available. Getting away was equally taxing. Then to the customs quay so we could check into Turkey officially. Used the ferry quay to disembark, which towered above us and required everyone to climb over a suspended truck tire. No health and safety here, nearly lost Jared into the sea.

Finally docked into the modern but cramped marine. A sense of sadness when I turned off the engine for the last time. Nothing that the remaining wine and beer stock could not sort out. Most of the family parked off at the nearby swimming pool until the temperature eased. So did the wind, so the temperature remained crazy hot.


All spruced up, the last of the clean clothing came out and we headed off the the waterfront – a heaving mass of restaurants and bars and gulets and shops.
Olly hiding from the camera in case we thought the beer was his:
This is what clean crew look like


Supper at The Golden Plate, where I was a month ago with the other guys. Charlie, the charming owner, did us proud once again.

No holiday can be complete without a walk amongst the backstreet shops.
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Then finally a hot sweaty night onboard to the throb of the waterfront and cool music
