When we told our neighbour Tim that we were planning to leave the marina for our summer cruising in Greece and Turkey on a Friday, he shouted, ‘You can’t do that. Don’t you know that it’s mariners’ bad luck to start a journey on a Friday?’ Not being superstitious, it didn’t bother us but as things turned out, we ended up leaving on the Saturday for a 4 day trip to take us to the southern tip of the Peloponnese.

We waved goodbye to our friends in Sicily as we slipped the lines from the pontoon, looking forward to trying out properly the new equipment that we’d had installed over the winter, being on the water again, meeting up with old friends and making new ones and discovering new places.

Calm seas and a gentle breeze was a perfect way to start our season and we were happily sailing along. After 12 hours, Chris thought he heard a noise under the boat, probably just a rogue wave but later on he felt an unusual vibration through the boat and upon checking the propeller shaft, could feel it vibrating slightly as it turned. Had something got wrapped around the prop? All seemed fine and we continued on what proved to be a great journey of sailing and motoring until the final four hours.

We were at the bottom of the Peloponnese, it was 2.30am and I was on watch. There was plenty going on with enormous cruise ships lit up like Christmas trees, huge tankers transporting goods and other small boats like ours all moving around. But we were fine and I was looking for the red or green light on each vessel to tell me which direction there were all heading. The wind started to pick up and, having had the engine on for a while, it seemed like an opportunity to turn it off and do some sailing, so I woke Chris up to help, as is our rule at night.

The wind was increasing so we put a reef in the genoa, followed quite quickly by two more and the same in the main sail. We didn’t need a lot of sail up to move us forward with so much wind. It was at this point that our new autopilot decided, quite contrary to what we wanted, to turn the boat sharp left! We couldn’t get it to do what we wanted after that so turned it off and hand-steered as the winds increased to 30kts. By the time we were approaching our destination we had a constant 33kts of wind, with gusts of up to 46kts and lots of water coming over the boat and us!

We didn’t expect to hear a plane flying low overhead at that moment but in fact it wasn’t – our wind generator went into overload with the wind and we had images of it bursting into flames as it whizzed around. Our very own Olympic flame! However it didn’t and now makes a whirring sound instead of being totally silent. Something to sort out later.

At the mouth of the anchorage, the waves and wind died down to a mere 28kts, as we were being sheltered by the land. We rolled the main sail away but the wind made it difficult and it got trapped just before it was all put away. Another thing to sort out later. With the engine one, we put the genoa away only to take it out again a few minutes later as the engine just stopped. Time to consider our options, just as the sun was starting to rise. We dismissed anchoring under sail as there was just too much wind to do this safely (and we’d never done this before!), so we turned away from the wind and the anchorage and immediately life was less full on giving Chris time to think about the engine.

We’d had a similar problem once before when muck in the fuel tank had got churned up during a bumpy journey and had blocked the filters. So he changed the filters and fired her up again – great! We were off again but only for a couple of minutes and the engine stopped once more. Time for some serious head-scratching now! We’d put fuel in before we left, based on how much we had in the tank, or thought we had in the tank. It turned out that the tank was empty. No time to work out what had happened, we needed to find a solution – we had no fuel, no autopilot and it was still blowing a gale.

Finding fuel at the bottom on the Peloponnese is no mean feat. Its emptiness is what draws people to come here. However, having been here only last year, we knew that we could either go back 63 miles to Methoni or 20 miles to Yithion, which was the obvious choice except that the wind and waves made that journey impossible and so we headed for Methoni with the wind behind us. It really is amazing what a difference travelling away from the wind has, smooth but fast. Turn around and look into it only if you don’t wear a wig!

A few hours later, the wind changed direction and we had a chance of getting to Yithion so we took it. When we were there last year, we had gone along the quay and hoped to do the same again but we needed to have the engine on to do so. We had 3l of fuel in a jerry can and Chris rigged up an emergency fuel tank to get us onto the quay. We were relieved and happy to finally get to Yithion only to feel dismay when we saw that the quay was being redeveloped and was lined with dredgers and working boats with no space for us.

A quick change of plan, yet again, and we anchored off the town and looked around to assess everything. The boat and ourselves were encrusted in salt, we were exhausted and bedraggled (well, I was and it’s not a good look), some canvas had been damaged by the wind, we had no fuel and no autopilot. It was one of those moments when we understood why people give up sailing all together.

We’ve now had a good sleep, a shower and food and feel much better. We will go and get some fuel in a jerry can when we can get off the boat as the wind and waves make it impossible to get into the dinghy right now. We’ll email the installer of the equipment to work out a plan and then I’ll get my needle and thread out to start some repairs.

Now tell us Tim – wouldn’t you now agree that leaving on a Saturday can be bad luck too!