Why Not Turkey? It's Delightful!

Appetites sated, the crew of Therapy dinghied back in the starlit night to quiet Ravine Cove, the anchorage just west of Kapi Creek, which was bursting with cruising boats, charter fleets, and gulets packed in like sardines. Chalk it up to the efficiency of Med-style mooring!

The next day, our last, we ticked off as many anchorages in Skopea Limani as we could before returning to Club Marina by 1700. We were on our own, making up what we wanted to do as we went along, sailing our boat wherever we wanted, in beautiful waters in a new place. We’d come a long way from trying to negotiate dinner and docking at Yacht Classic.

Carrie Fletcher

We anchored at Tomb Bay. Rick took us by dinghy to the beach, and then we scrambled up the dusty, rocky goat path past gnarled tree roots, sage, thyme, and miniature holly. In no time, we reached an ancient vault, stepped inside, and snapped several of those “wish you were here” type of shots, with the cat and the kayaks in the background. We picked our way down among the tangled roots and instead of waving for Rick to retrieve us, swam back to the boat, where Jane and Rick handed down icy cans of Effes, the trademark brew of the land.

I floated in a pink water toy Carrie had brought along. With my hand clutched around the light pilsner, something Sue had said at the start of the trip came to mind: “I told my family that the boat’s name is Therapy,” she’d said. “So I should be all fixed by the time I get home.”

On that boat, in this country, with these fine friends, I was starting to feel pretty fixed myself.

CW deputy editor Elaine Lembo writes frequently about chartering.