After 2 lovely sheltered, sunny days in Platarias, we leave at 1020 for Gouvia Marina on Corfu. We try sailing briefly until the wind drops to 5kts. As we enter Gouvia it starts gusting 30kts!
Yes, it always gusts here, but really? We radio in to be shown to our reserved berth. I’d emailed to ask for a space on the office side of a pontoon so I’d be being blown off the pontoon in the prevailing winds. The marinero approached in his RIB and indicated for us to follow him in, but without telling us which pontoon we were going to. We followed him in, with the wind astern, and only when he turned left between the pontoons did I realise how hard it was going to be to reverse in there.
If I went in forwards and then tried to reverse upwind into the space to port, I stood no chance of overcoming the prop walk (to starboard) fast enough in the limited space between boats. I would have to reverse into the lane. There was no lane opposite to turn into first, and only a short space ahead available for a run up. And I was being blown down it quite fast! OK, into reverse, try to get enough steerage in time to turn into the lane to port – missed it! Try again, wind screaming past me as we hurtle, with barely any revs, towards the boats moored downwind . . . Into reverse, give it some revs, do I have steerage to make the turn? As I approach I’m vaguely aware of a man in a red T-Shirt watching from the bow of the end boat. The wind screams, and as we hurtle round the corner I’m screaming F*** I’m not in control of this boat! F*** F*** F***!
But it seems I was in control after all and we stop perfectly in the space. The marinero takes our stern lines from John and passes him the lazyline to cleat off on our bow while I keep the engine in tickover to hold us steady against the lines. Engine off, all calm, and the man on the boat opposite nods hello.
Postscript 1
Later on I see the man in the red T-shirt and apologise if I’d frightened him to death “Not at all” he replies, ” I said to my young crew ‘Just look at that lady bringing the boat in with this wind and only one person to help her.'”
Postscript 2
And the next day in the chandlery we’re chatting to 2 skippers who’d both decided against coming in in those gusts and had anchored outside until the morning. It hadn’t even occurred to me . . . Another lesson learned.