TYW Day 7: Sail of Shame

Blah.

Blah blah.

There’s not a single one of us that’s not feeling completely wrecked. Our bodies have essentially rejected us. They are looking at the crackers and water we put in front of them and they’re screaming rejections. We’re taking turns being sick off the back of the boat. Partner puking on either side of the steering column. We lazily pass large bottles of water around hoping and praying that this sip will be the one that stays down.

After 7 straight nights of partying until the wee hours of the morning and waking up only a couple hours later I am having dreams about comfy beds, sleeping until noon and drinking water and only water for a month. 

On top of our hangovers, we were in sour moods knowing this was our last day on the boat. To top it off, the sea sucks. Like really sucks today. It’s windy and the waves are big for the first time since we’ve started this mess. The Freja is feeling the weight of the week as well and is broked. We can’t go faster than 4 knots and even that is putting a strain on our engine since the wind is blowing us all over the place. As such, we can’t participate in the regatta between the YW boats and have to sail straight back from Hydra (Ύδρα) to Lavrios (Λαύριο). We finally get to a sheltered area where we can put up the sail and attempt to use this wind to our advantage.

For the next 10 hours we chop our way through the Med. We’re having to tack, basically weaving back and forth because the wind was not at our back and for the first time since we started, we’re actually having to work really hard, gybing every 100 or so yards. The boat is nearly on it’s side because the winds are so strong and we’re all holding on tight as Louise said that picking anyone out of this rough sea would be nearly impossible.  At one point, the boat tips over almost on it’s side. We’re literally hanging onto railings, soaking wet and shit is flailing all over the place below deck. Louise is screaming at Matt and Mitch who have taken over most of the tough work. Once we finally stabilized, we had to pull our sails in half way so we’re not catching so much wind which finally worked and we leisurely strolled into port.

Problems arose when we began our check-in process. Our dinghy engine that was stolen earlier in the week was going to be charged to us, even though we knew it was somewhere on someone else’s boat. Justin headed off to battle with the Yacht Week people while the rest of us began to arrange transportation for the following day up to Athens (Αθήνα).  Unfortunately, due to some miscommunication, the twins had cancelled all of our busses into Athens and by the time we figured it out, there were no more spots left. Being that Justin and John were on early flights the following day and we had no guaranteed spots on any busses, Justin, John, Alyssa and I headed to Athens via public transportation to stay at the amazingly amazing and glorious Athens airport hotel. John, my sugar daddy for the night (the hotel staff referred to me as Mrs. Farr) and I dumped our stuff in our glorious room and then the four of us wandered down to the hotel restaurant for some dinner.

After a couple bottles of wine and some amazing food, we went back up to our honeymoon suite for long baths and a solid 12 hours of sleep. In a bed. With a real mattress and comforters. Oh, and air conditioning.

We sort of cheated the Yacht Week by getting out early and staying at a real hotel, but god, it felt good.