Learning the ropes

SAILING: Irish Times photographer Alan Betson caught the sailing bug on a trip to Turkey with his wife and daughter.

SAILING: Irish Times photographer Alan Betson caught the sailing bug on a trip to Turkey with his wife and daughter.

"Horrendous," my Mum exclaimed. "Fantastic," said my Dad. The idea of spending a week sailing on a yacht in the Mediterranean with our three-year-old daughter generated some understandable concern. "But you can't sail." "Not yet I can't." The thing about finally realising your dream is that it is not necessarily everybody else's cup of tea. Or so we thought, until we spent two weeks sailing in the south-west corner of Turkey.

In my teens, I took a windsurfing course, and I am a keen scuba diver, but I can count on half the fingers of my left hand the number of times I have stepped onto a sail boat, and, using the remaining fingers, indicate the number of times the boat was actually under sail. My wife, Deirdre, and daughter Hannah have never set foot on a yacht.

Our adventure starts with a mandatory three-day flotilla sailing course at Sunsail's Perili Club. The club is located down a dusty track, reached after a three-hour transfer from Dalaman Airport, which follows a four-hour flight and a 7 a.m. start from Gatwick.

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Our weariness evaporates as we are greeted and shown to our accommodation. Perili commands an isolated position on its own bay, with a long waterfront and an island with two rather voluptuous peaks, aptly named Anderson Island. The beach is not quite sandy and yet not quite stoney, something in between, which gets too hot to walk on barefoot.

The jetty is packed with gleaming, nearly-new day yachts, and there is a 100-metre stretch of beach crammed with every type of sailing craft imaginable: Picos, Lasers, Hobecats, windsurfers, Magnos, Sport 16, all available. You can take a lesson, sit in on a clinic or just wander down to the beach team, point to the object of your desire, watch them rig it, then step aboard.

The accommodation is an eclectic mix of one and two-storey Turkish-style villas, all stone- built with individual character, interspersed with mature trees, vines and Mediterranean charm. There is a myriad of steps and slopes which make navigation hazardous for infants, but they soon adapt to the terrain, and parents relax. There are nooks and crannies everywhere for hiding away in the shade with a book.

Then comes the food ... all breakfasts and either a lunch or a dinner per day are included. A Turkish mezze-style starter of up to 15 different dishes is followed by fish, chicken or lamb shish kebabs, blue cheese salad or honey mustard chicken, accompanied by a glass of good Turkish wine. The food is consistently good, right down to the children's dinners.

The Sunsail formula seems to provide what you want before you know you want it. The inclusive childcare is available from 9.30 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day. When we go back early to collect Hannah on the first day, our initial feelings of guilt disappear as we listen outside to her roars of laughter, and from then on it's her choice to "go to school to see her friends". Banter between the different age groups - Minnows (four months to two years), Snappers (two-four years), Sea Urchins (five-seven years), Gybers (eight-12 years) and Beach Team (13-16 years), can be heard as parties of face-painted pirates make their way to the shore for a spin in a boat.

The three-day yacht course poses a steep learning curve, but under Mike's tuition, we manage to adjust our thinking from: "God I'll never be able to do that" to "Did you see me doing that." But I have to admit to being at the helm when we bump into the pier at Datche.

Three-quarters of the people on our week in Turkey are repeat Sunsailors, and some are on their 13th or 16th consecutive outing. Others return up to three times a year.

Gocek marina, where we join our flotilla, is a lesson in how the other half lives. Boats bigger than a cul-de-sac semi-D are polished and shined, awaiting their owners. Our boat, the Jalimol, is a 41-foot Beneteau Oceanis. Yachts are essentially aquatic caravans. The bigger the caravan, the more luxurious; ours includes electric windlass (anchor), fridge, hot water, auto helm, in-mast reefing (the main sail rolls into the mast), and plenty of space. Provisions are delivered to the boat.

Contrary to what I believed, sailing in a flotilla does not mean bobbing along in a line. After the skipper's briefing, we're on our own. With Hannah in a harness and tethered to the central console, we carefully avoid the floating gin palaces moored nearby and motor until we have built up enough courage to put up the sails.

A stiff wind, force four to five, funnels down our cruising area, the Skopea Limani gulf, which is separated from the larger gulf of Fethiye Korfezi by a chain of islands. The surrounding pine-covered hills and deep waters present a rugged and picturesque scene, with safe anchorages hidden away, many overlooked by ancient ruins and Lycian rock tombs.

Our first stop, out of the blustery conditions, is Tomb Bay, where all is calm. We reverse up to the pier, where a waiting restaurant owner helps us tie up.

In a small, inauspicious shack at the end of the pier, Ilyan the barber cuts my hair perfectly, without a word of direction, and with a cut-throat razor shaves my face in traditional Turkish fashion. Newspaper cuttings on the wall inform me of Ilyan's claim to fame, French footballer Zinedine Zidane previously occupied the very chair in which I am now sitting.

That evening, at Sarsala Iskelesi, Hannah's dinner is delivered to the boat by the first of many doting waiters. At night, when we finally get her off to sleep, we close the hatch to keep her on board and use a baby monitor, which with regular checks, gives us peace of mind as we dine al fresco within 50 yards of the moored boats.

Our second day produces yet more breath-taking moments as we sail toward the snow-capped Baba Dogi mountains, through a narrow channel between islands and across the gulf of Fethiye Korfezi towards Olu Deniz, Turkey's most photographed sandy beach. A long and satisfyingly tranquil sail brings us to the most stunning turquoise blue stretch of water I have ever seen, the kind of colour that makes scuba divers quiver and want to jump in.

Our destination, Cold Water Bay, is again picture perfect. We climb the windy path up the small hill overlooking the inlet to the restaurant where Ali, our host, falls for Hannah's charms and offers to exchange her for his donkey, Pavarotti. I have to decline the offer as I'm sure I read something in the rule book about four-legged beasts of burden not being allowed on board. At 7.25 the next morning we find out why he is called Pavarotti.

Our next port of call is downwind to the bustling town of Fethyie, overlooked by huge rock tombs carved into the cliff face. This is a wonderful place for a meal, and a good spot for a little bit of shopping. Leather bags, carpets, fake Rolex watches, designer clothing and jewellery are on offer, all requiring bargaining skills, of which I have none.

Next day we head back to the Skopea Limani gulf, under motor, directly into a strong wind, force four-five. The one-metre swell lulls Hannah off to sleep for the entire two-hour journey.

Our only bit of bad luck comes when we moor near a large day trip boat in a small bay. It must be the only stag party in Turkey that day, and we manage to find it. Their roaring and singing have the inevitable effect, and we raise anchor and leave them to it. We then find a quiet corner in Tomb Bay. Flotilla friends join us on board for drinks, after our candlelit dinner, under one of the brightest star-filled skys I have seen. Next morning, we have the entire bay to ourselves for two hours, the peace only interrupted by the ice cream sales man.

Our final night, at Kopi Creek, is equally charming, spent dining al fresco on the waterside, on calamari, sea bream and lobster.

Next day, we sail as slowly as possible back to base at Gocek, savouring the last of the sunshine, and knowing that we are going to break our travelling motto: "The world is too big to go back to the same place twice."

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SLIP ANCHOR ...

Sunsail runs the world's biggest charter fleet of 1,000 boats, from 26-foot to 55-foot in size. A week in Perili starts from £685stg (adult) and £510 (child) in June and goes to £1,120 (adult) and £1,055 (child) in August, including flights from Gatwick, transfers and half-board accommodation.

The price of a week in Gocek flotilla depends on boat size and number in party. June prices range from £835 for two people on a 30-foot to £1,110 for two on a 35-foot boat. For four people on a 40-foot boat, also in June, the cost is £775. Extras include a £105 damage waiver, £175 new yacht supplement, £55 fuel supplement.

The Gatwick to Dalaman flight departs at 7 a.m. on Mondays, necessitating an overnight stay, which adds to the holiday cost.

It is necessary to do a three-day flotilla course, £135, before being allowed to take a boat on flotilla, and at least one week's flotilla experience is necessary to take a Sunsail bareboat on its own. Children's netting is available for Flotilla and bareboat yachts.

Sunsail details can be found at www.sunsail.com. Sailing and club holiday brochures are available from Sunway Travel at 01-8216566.