A PEEP INTO THE BLACK SEA

Peter Ogilvy-Stuart

(Peter has cruised his Moody 44 Cougar extensively over the past decade, including a ....-year circumnavigation starting in 1985. More recently he has based her in the eastern Mediterranean.)

Having cruised the gentle and scenic coast of southern Turkey for a couple of seasons I decided last year to take a look at the Black Sea. Rod Heikel, in his 1993 edition of Turkish Waters and Cyprus Pilot, had added a section on the north coast of Turkey which looked interesting, and a few people I met who had recent experience of sailing in the Black Sea recommended the area.

In summer the prevailing wind in the Aegean Sea is from the north, and from there through the Dardanelles and the Sea of Marmara the wind stays on the nose up to Istanbul. We wanted to get there from Marmaris in three weeks without sailing overnight so had to keep to a fairly tight schedule. All the islands off the Turkish coast as far as Bozcaada near the entrance to the Dardanelles are Greek, so, to avoid problems with the Turkish transit log, we stuck to the Turkish coast on our voyage north. We found many secure and uncrowded anchorages on the west coast of Turkey, one of our favourites being Bademli Liman. This is in the channel between the mainland and the Greek island of Lesvos. A few feet from the sea was a hot spring pool just big enough to hold two people, and it was delightful to lie in the pool sipping a cool gin and tonic while watching the sun set!

We had to motor all the way up the Dardenelles against the wind, keeping close inshore to avoid the full force of the current which runs at up to 4 knots. About halfway through the Dardenelles is Canakkale where we spent a couple of nights. From this port it is possible to make a side trip to the ancient city of Troy, and the First World War battle fields on the Gallipoli peninsular can be visited. To see the well-kept war graves and the memorials on the beaches where the Allies made their landings was a poignant reminder of the sad and perhaps senseless loss of young men on both the Allied and Turkish sides.

Between the Dardenelles and Istanbul is the Sea of Marmara, named after Marmara Island which is made entirely of marble, and means literally `Marble Sea'. We stuck to the southern shore where there is a chance of getting more favourable winds. The weather was variable and at one stage we encountered a 40 knot gale which whipped up a short sea, but fortunately we were just able to lay Erdek, our destination. One could spend several months exploring the harbours and anchorages in the Sea of Marmara where very few foreign yachts are to be seen, but we had to hurry to Atakoy Marina, only fifteen minutes from Istanbul airport, to make a crew change. Quite a number of foreign yachts winter at Atakoy, and the charges for a long term stay are reasonable. Facilities are good, but the noise from a nearby nightclub is such that sleep is difficult before the music stops around dawn! There is a good bus service from Atakoy to Istanbul, and near the marina is a large supermarket to provision for the Black Sea.

The Bosphorus, an eighteen mile waterway from Istanbul to the Black Sea, is probably one of the most interesting in the world. There are views of the Blue and Red Mosques and other fine buildings, hillsides covered densely with the housing for Istanbul residents, two bridges joining Asia with Europe, well preserved forts, ferries darting all over the place, and busy merchant shipping plying between the Mediterranean and Black Sea. With wind and current against you the only way to make the passage from Istanbul in this busy waterway is to motor, keeping close to the shore to take advantage of the counter currents which are shown on the Admiralty chart.

The last harbour in the Bosphorus before encountering the agitated surface of the Black Sea is Poyraz, a pleasant anchorage which at weekends can get crowded with pleasure craft from Istanbul. Here we met an American yacht which had hoped to explore the Bulgarian and Romanian Black Sea coasts. They had had a rough passage to Burgas, the first port of entry in Bulgaria, and such an unpleasant time with the harbourmaster -- who wanted money for visas, and more money for a transit log extending only a few miles along the coast after which they would have to leave Bulgarian waters -- that they aborted the cruise. The same official, who was obviously an unreformed member of the old communist regime, only reluctantly allowed them to spend the night in harbour on board their yacht to get some sleep. When they left the following morning they described the sea outside the harbour as `square'. With the very variable wind patterns and the comparatively short 700 mile fetch it can indeed be lumpy.

At Poyraz we found the larger fishing boats tied up for the close season, which lasts until 1 September. The crews were busy with paint brushes and repairing nets, but were cheerful and always had time to assist visiting yachtsmen.

The first port when heading east from the Bosphorus is Sile (pronounced chilly), about twenty-two miles along the coast. We were able to go stern-to the jetty in the northeast corner of the harbour, and the town on the hilltop is pleasant with good shopping and a number of reasonable restaurants. The next day we had a enjoyable thirty mile sail to Kefken Adasi, an island near the coast with an artificial harbour. The population is around twenty, with a manned lighthouse and lifeboat station. In the harbour are a number of fish pens where salmon is farmed in the winter, and mussels grow wild on the eastern side of the island. The holding of thick weed on hard sand was poor so we secured a couple of lines to the shore.

Forty miles further east is Akcakoca. The harbour entrance faces west and is liable to silting, but on this occasion the wind was force 5 from the northeast, and although it gave a little swell we were able to tie up stern-to the northeast sea wall with a loose sternline and have a comfortable night.

Our experience in this harbour was far different on our return passage to Istanbul. The wind was northwest gusting 36 knots, producing a big swell at the harbour entrance. Fishermen were lined up on the sea wall looking like a reception committee, and no craft were to be seen against the northeast wall which was bearing the full brunt of the swell. The fishermen invited us to put a line onto one of their boats secured to the crowded western side of the harbour (they were waiting for the close season to end) which enabled us to stay overnight in reasonable comfort.

Our next port of call was Zonguldak in the coal mining district forty miles further east. We tried to tie up against a fishing boat moored alongside the northeast quay, but as we were approaching an excited official shouted, `Go to Customs'. He would not let us get near enough to show him that we had the necessary papers, so we made fast alongside a large vessel on the far side of the harbour. Within minutes he was on the neighbouring boat shouting at us, but he calmed down and went away when we were able to show him that our transit log was in order. In general we found the Turkish port officials courteous and friendly, and I presumed this case was due to the man having little experience of visiting yachts. In the three weeks we spent cruising 300 miles along the north coast of Turkey and back we only met one other foreign yacht, a singlehander from the former USSR state of Georgia.

Thirty-two miles further along the coast we called at the delightful port of Amasra. The harbour is well protected, and the fishermen who were working on their nets and laid-up boats were helpful in making space for us to tie up stern-to the quay. Here we had a problem with our Perkins engine in that the joint of the saltwater cooling pipe to the engine casing had cracked. A fisherman took me in his car to a ramshackle workshop and introduced me to a splendid old man with a flowing beard wearing a skull cap. He came to the boat, saw what was needed, and said he would fix it the following day. This he did, and having milled a piece of brass, cut a thread into the casing to screw in the new joint. Total cost about œ25! I took a photo of him, working in his skull cap and flowing robes, and he said, `Tell your friends I am a Moslem, not a Jew', for which he could easily have been mistaken.

We were at Amasra on market day, and went to the market to buy fresh eggs, taking with us a couple of ordinary egg boxes. The lady stall holder examined these with curiosity, apparently never having seen one before! Later we called in the tourist information office to get help in finding some stores we were seeking. Armed with an English/Turkish dictionary, the tourist official left his desk and accompanied us around the town until we found what we were seeking. Wonderful people!

Our next stop was Sutluce, one of the very few natural harbours on the north coast of Turkey. A small bay, quite picturesque, but the anchorage was a bit rolly. The next day we made an overnight stop at Inebolu where we walked to the village to order diesel fuel. Two port officials came to the boat and asked me to take the ship's papers to Customs. They grilled me for about an hour, but I got the impression that all they really wanted was to be invited on board for a whisky and to be given a packet of the cigarettes that one of my crew had brought along for the purpose.

Another thirty-five miles along the coast is Cayhoglu, a harbour and village of about a dozen families. The sea wall looked new and the long jetty was in pristine condition, but apart from a few smallcraft anchored in shallow water we were the only vessel in this large harbour. One of the houses displayed the sign `PTT', meaning Post and Telegraph Office. Some mature ladies were sitting on the balcony and invited one of my crew in for a cup of tea. Later that evening the same ladies took a stroll along the quay past our yacht, so we invited them on board for a drink. They shouted something in Turkish to a group of men some distance away, presumably husbands, and the answer was obviously `No', because they just waved to us and sauntered away!

Our final port of call was Sinop, which is about 300 miles east of the Bosphorus, about halfway along the north coast of Turkey. Although it was still August the fishing close season did not apply here. Fleets of large vessels were operating in packs near the coast and it appeared that the fish had little chance of survival. In the well protected harbour we were able to tie up beside a local pleasure craft known as a `gulet'. The town had good restaurants, reasonable shops and a fine castle.

The wind for our return passage to Istanbul was more favourable so we made good time with fewer stops. One place we called at to take on fuel was Cide, and here again we were the only vessel on the quay, although later a timber barge did arrive. The petrol station was a good walk from the harbour and they loaded the diesel in a drum on the back of a truck. To get it on board the driver inserted a tube, sucked until the diesel flowed, and filled our tank by siphoning action. He accepted a beer to rinse his mouth!

What is my verdict on the Black Sea visit? The weather was much cooler than in the Mediterranean -- in fact it was cooler than in the UK last summer. It can be changeable, with the occasional thunderstorm, and the seas are often short and lumpy. Weather forecasts in English are broadcast from Athens and give only a very general picture. The Turkish people are delightful, but not many have any English so a knowledge of German is helpful as it is more widely spoken. Do not expect to meet other visiting yachts, apart perhaps from an occasional one from a country bordering the Sea. It is well worth visiting the area once, but I do not plan to go there again in the near future.