Whoosh Whoosh Boaty Boat

Wednesday 10th October

Today was the day of the second of our pre-booked excursions. After the trip out on the gulet last week, we had booked a day out on the motor cruiser, or ‘whoosh whoosh boaty boat’, as it had been christened by Debrah and as it will now be forever know.

It is one of those white fibreglass and leather rich man’s toys that is more usually associated with St Tropez or Poole Harbour, which was appropriate as we were going to share our trip with Martin and Jess, retired and living in Poole. Jess was in fact the aforementioned ‘queen bee’ of the hotel and Martin, (“used to be in property management”) was sporting an inaugural Queen Mary cruise polo shirt with the collar turned up – it was going to be a long day.

We idled away from the jetty, before the captain put the twin 715bhp engines to good use and we sped off around the headland, spray flying up on all sides and the massive wake gracefully arching out behind us. To confirm its status as a floating gin palace, a bottle of champagne was cracked open as soon as we left the jetty. We motored along at 21 knots, heading south-west along the Bozburun peninsula. The boat has a top speed of 35 knots and at one point the captain pushed us up to 29 knots before swinging the boat into a fast left and right arc, which had Debrah squeeling on the sun deck at the rear as she was suddenly thrown to one side and back again.

We looked in at Sparrow Bay, which had a very narrow and deep entrance before opening out into a broad bay behind, then continued our journey to Lorimar Bay, where we would stop for lunch. On the headland at the entrance to the Bay were the remains of a 3000 year old settlement and there were three little shack restaurants dotted around in different corners with yachts already moored up in front. We ignored all these and headed for a very small cove on the far side of the Bay where a man waited in a rowing boat. As we got closer the rowing boat came out to meet us and Kemal, for that was his name, took the mooring rope and rowed back to shore to secure it to a rock, Atilla having already secured the boat to a buoy.

We could see, on the shore, a table fully laid for lunch under the shelter of a tree and mats and chairs on the small stony beach. To complete the scene a wild donkey came stumbling along the rocky shore, much to Debrah’s delight – she being a big fan of donkeys and this being the first that we had seen all holiday. Three of us swam ashore but Debrah was into the rowing boat with the bags and coolbox to get to on land as quickly as possible so that she could stroke the donkey’s nose – the donkey was by now beginning to take an interest in the dining area but Kemal put paid to that with a hefty thwack on it’s rump.

So we swam and watched the fish and looked at the sea urchins in the crystal clear water and we had a drink and lay in the sun whilst the crew prepared lunch and Kemal set about barbecuing the fresh fish. It was an idyllic scene and setting. We had mezes and fish and fresh fruit washed down with wine as we looked out onto the sparkling water of the Bay.

We all swam back to the boat; the rowing boat had been a bit too wobbly for Debrah, before towing Kemal back across the Bay to his little house where he lives in splendid isolation with his goats. (We are led to believe the isolation has more than something to do with the opposite sex – hiding might be a better description).

We retraced our steps down the coast and had one final stop an hour later for a little swim and some tea and cake before continuing back to the jetty, timing our arrival with the gulet and the yacht. It had in fact been a pretty good day for sailing and we had passed many yachts with full sails billowed by the breeze and getting along at a good pace. I have no doubt that every single one of them cursed us in the motor launch as we went past and they had to cope with our wake.

We felt quite windswept at the end of it all but it was a fabulous day out and exactly the sort of day we would probably only ever do when on holiday. Debrah had a good nap and was still full from lunch so I had dinner on my own and sadly started to turn my thoughts back to the work that needs doing when I get back to London – all good things must come to an end, I suppose.

But not just yet - still two days to go.