Preparing to spend Christmas aboard their yacht, Phillida Eves and family must remember to leave the navigation light on for Santa.
This year it will be Turkey for Christmas. The country, that is, not the dinner. We are sailing there now, through the Corinth canal in the middle of Greece, and across the Aegean Sea to Turkey, to reach Istanbul in time for Christmas. We are doing the trip in day-hops where possible, and for the last four evenings, as we relax with a drink in different tavernas, the main news report on TV has been graphic pictures of horrendous storms in the Aegean Sea. I take comfort from the fact that it's big news; it's not the norm.
We have given up telling people our ultimate destination. I was getting spooked by the incredulous looks on their faces, and now just mention the next port on our journey. I was apprehensive in the beginning but now that we are underway, the reality is very exciting and fun. Friends text us the latest weather forecasts and we get local weather reports and advice from the port police in each town or village when we tie our boat up at the harbour walls each night.
We are travelling later in the year than planned because, happily for our finances, our journey from Barcelona to Turkey was interrupted for eight weeks while Tedd worked on a superyacht in the US. We left the boat in Greece, and the children, Poppy the dog and I stayed with kind friends in Rome. Now, back on the boat, we are going to the Asian side of Istanbul for Tedd to take up the position of winter engineer on a superyacht that is based there.
Reaching Istanbul and Christmas have merged with wonderful anticipation. They are intricately linked in our minds; an interesting concept, considering Christmas is not celebrated in Turkey where the population is 99 per cent Muslim. Not to worry; this will be our third Christmas on board Kari, and we have our own family traditions.
We aim for the tallest possible Christmas tree. On the boat this has to be an outdoor tree. In the days coming up to Christmas, we haul Tedd to the top of the mast in a bosun's chair where he fixes 60 metres of lights and green netting fabric to the top. Then he, Oisín (11) and Cian (eight) take turns in going aloft and attaching the string of lights to the metal stays (the wires that hold the mast up) and make our own giant Christmas tree with lights and fabric using the mast as the trunk of the tree. On Christmas Eve we haul a somewhat unwilling Tedd to the top of the 20-metre mast to ceremoniously attach an enormous star to our tree. Then we hold our breath as we switch on the lights; finding and changing a broken bulb is not an option.
On Christmas Eve the boys and Soracha (five) peg their pillowcases to the yacht's steering wheel ready for Santa's visit, and the whisky, cake and carrot are laid on a tray below the tiny Christmas tree in the cockpit. Our navigation light is shining brightly to guide Santa to the top of the mast. In a house Santa comes down the chimney; on a yacht, of course, he comes down the mast.
Christmas morning is magical. We squash into the cockpit, electric blow heating on full, to see what Santa has brought. When the excitement dies down, we remember that it is also Tedd's birthday and we celebrate all over again. Hopefully we will meet up with some other cruisers or expats to share a Christmas drink. Usually we swim in the sea; the Mediterranean in Barcelona was a doddle after the freezing swims in the Atlantic Ocean in our native Galway. In Istanbul the Bosphorus is very polluted and the temperatures will be even more challenging than Galway. We will, at least, dip a token toe.
It's in all of our interests to indulge Tedd in his birthday ritual. He loves to have the galley to himself with a bottle of red wine and loud music. Space being a challenge in the galley and especially in the cooker, he cooks the meat on the barbecue on the back of the boat (this year marinated Turkish lamb), and somehow manages to produce a wonderful Christmas dinner.
I was a bit shocked to read that the winter rainfall and temperatures in Istanbul are similar to Galway. I wouldn't fancy living on a boat through an Irish winter. We'll be frequenting the covered bazaars, drinking buckets of warming apple tea and making maximum use of the free electricity in the marina. We love having Christmas in different places and sharing different cultures. Our first two Christmases were in Barcelona. Christmas Day there is quite low-key but we loved the coming of els Reis Mags, the Three Kings, on the night of January 5th when they bring the Spanish children their presents. All day long the drums beat in each barrio or district of the city. Just before dusk, ours and other yachts were part of a two-kilometre welcoming flotilla to escort the Three Kings from the east into Barcelona harbour on a regal Tall Ship. They are paraded through the streets in a spectacular Macnas-style parade, Cavalcada de Reis, with real camels, and a float carrying the Judge, shining his accusing spotlight on horrified faces on the balconies, and reading out the names of the bold children who will only receive a piece of coal. That night the Kings creep into the children's bedrooms and leave their gifts. Our three intrepid young sailors must have been really good because they had visits from the Kings and Santa.
We hear that New Year is huge in Turkey so we look forward to celebrating it Turkish style. We would be delighted to hear of any contacts in Istanbul. Thanks to Oisín and our friend Matthew in Rome, we now have a web site, www.yachtkari.com.
New Neighbours returns next Wednesday
