After leaving Fethiye marina, where to our disgust the much=advertised pumping-out favilities were not working, we crossed over to the other side of the bay and free-anchored overnight. I say free-anchored because in these waters it is much more common to anchor with a line ashore, tethered to a suitable rock or purpose-built bollard on the shore. Tying the boat to a tree is a no-no, and much frowned upon. The next morning we headed back over towards the bays where we had spent a few nights before going to Fethiye, but this time we found a tiny bay on an island, and anchored there with a line ashore. It was a very busy little bay, with gas-guzzlers (large motor boats), gulets, charter yachts, liveaboards of many nations, and fishing boats all coming and going all day. We were wise to get the space early in the day. There was a small restaurant in the bay, with its own pontoon, in somewhat better nick than the one at Seagull Bay, but we didn't sample the restaurant's goodies, electing to eat on board. We stayed for a couple of nights, then headed out towards Wall Bay, motoring through what seemed to be a large yacht race, in nice weather. Not long after we anchored with like ashore the weather went rapidly south. Our view of the continuing yacht race was diminished by mist, cloud covered the sun, the wind increased, and suddenly all these smart yachts had furled their sails, put on their navigation lights, and were motoring rapidly towards shelter. Thunder crashed, lightning flared, we put all the covers, cockpit canopy and other stuff on to protect the innards of the boat from rain, and cowered below, drinking mugs of tea, and marvelling that this was the first rain Steve and June had seen here since April! It was the 1st of October, and it arrived with a bang! The thunderstorm rolled on all evening and into the night, but the next day dawned a bit brighter, with just a little rain in the afternoon, so that was OK. June and Ju and I have been playing a game called Mexican Train Dominoes, and that had whiled away many an evening aboard. However in Fethiye I bought a game called Okay in Turkey, but we know it as Rummikub, from firends in Lagos who introduced us to it by presenting us with a set and giving us the odd masterclass. So we now have two games for dark evenings. It gets dark around half seven/eight o'clock here at the moment. On the second we left Wall Bay and sailed on the first leg of the journey south, stopping in the early afternoon in a rather exposed anchorage on a headland, surrounded by other boats free=anchred around us. The roll was prodigious, making cooking and even standing up difficult, so we were relieved to leave the next morning 'at sparrowfart' ie 6am, on stage two of the journey. We motored as far as Kalkan, had a look at the bay there for anchoring, but decided it would not be too comfortable because of downdraft from the hills shaped like a bowl around it. So we hoisted the genoa, and, together with the mizzen, Piper sailed gently south at about 2 knots while we had lunch, and prepared to sail the further 12 miles or so to Kas. I helmed for a while, as the wind strengthened, and suddenly we were bowling along at 6 knots, with the wind almost dead behind us. It got a bit much for me so I handed over to Steve, who decided we should reef the genoa. The first attempt to do this failed, as we turned round into wind and realised how strong it was, definitely a force 6, not forecast, and the jammer on the genoa reefing line snagged, so we wore round again, took a minute or two to calm down - it had been quite exciting there for a minute or two - then turned back into wind, rolled away the genoa, and resumed course. The mizzen then became the problem, throwing the helm off course with the gusts, so it was lowered and the boat proceeded in choppy seas covered in white horses down towards the new marina at Kas, where we moored bows-to on A pontoon. Steve and June's friends helped tie up our lines, then a familiar face materialised on the dock. It was Matt Boney, one of the 2008-9 Lagos contingent who we have kept up with since by blogs, emails and yottie scuttlebut, and he and Annie had heard June calling up the marina orn their radio, saw us sailing past (they are on E pontoon), and he came round to say hello. It was great to see him again, and to marvel at the coincidences that mark the sailing life!

The answer to the question of the quote was that it was from the Muppet Show Album, the song 'Pachalafaca'. Well done to all those of you who spotted that.

This is a photo of me in a corner of the amphitheatre at Kas, with the island of Kastellorizo (which is Greek) in the background. We will sail there next, and try out our euros for a spot of shopping.