Bozcaada

I can't feel my face now, anyway

And all my ticks will soon betray

That I am long checked out of this fight

And teaching lessons never learned

Authority you've never earned

Must be nice to always be right

Local H

We sailed 92nm today to Bozcaada island. It was a fairly uneventful sail through the Dardanelles. We passed monuments to the soldiers massacred in WWI. It seems crazy to us now, that Germans and Australians and Russians and Italians, and Turks, of course, were all killing one another. How could we even sort that all out. How many of us in the world are pure blooded single race people. Have you done your genetic testing? Most people that think they are pure something, turn out to be a Heinz 47 of everything. So can we just stop shooting each other? Wars are just about money anyway, and those people don’t care who wins and who loses, as long as everyone keeps buy ammo, and then they sell bricks to the losers to rebuild. 

For lunch on the way, I made sauté onions in olive oil, add more olive oil and sauté thin slices of eggplant until they are falling apart. Add rhyme, cumin and black pepper and red chile flakes. Add diced tomatoes and green onions, sauté, add sweet red peppers, beef chunks and fresh parsley, sauté. Serve over rice. For rice, first sauté some orzo (or in my case, crushed penne) until it is brown. Add short flat rice and continue to sautéed until some rice is brown. Add water and bring to a boil, reduce heat and cook until water is absorbed.

He is the kind of guy, that if you do 111 great things perfectly, he will ignore them and point out the 112th thing that didn't work out so well. Lunch was amazing, but his only comment on it, was that it took too long to make, and he was hungry.

The island has a big castle. I asked Recep if it was old or new, and he answered in his interminable fashion “It is old, did you ever see a new castle?” I didn’t bother to tell him that I had, and that the thing I thought was a castle earlier in the day, turned out to have been built for WWI.

We went out to a lovely little restaurant that he knows, and likes. It was great. They had the food all ready and displayed in pans. He ordered some things and said “What do you want?” I said, I am happy to eat any of it, I am not sure what each dish is, is there something you can recommend? Exasperation… just order something, whatever you like, so I turn and look at the waiter, and point to a dish, “No, Recep says, not that one”. So I point to the one below, and he smiles and nods an affirmation. “Guess I’m having that one” I think. Turns out it was fabulous. Not sure how my first choice would have been…

So first thing in the morning - Recep says he is going to the bank - “great”, I say, “I will come for the walk and see the village in the daylight”. “Ok” he says. “You are staying here” he asks? “No”, I say, “I will come with you”. Exasperation flooding every slowly spoken word... “Do you stay here or go out, just tell me which, do I need to lock the boat or not???!!!” “Lock it”, I say, standing outside with purse and shoes on, and camera around my neck... “Ok” he says, “will you stay near the boat”? “No", “I say, I will go to the village with you”.

I am to drop the bow line. He says he will make it easier by moving forward a couple of metres. I tell him it is easy to undo, just give me a signal. He says, exasperated, “not now, look, just go there, I will give you a signal”. I go to the front - he points his finger and swings his hand away from the boat, I toss the line over, and watch for it to drop. I have my hand flat, in a "wait" gesture. Finally the rope sinks past the keel level - I turn and give him the thumbs up - he stares blankly. I point to the line and make an ok sign. He stares blankly. Finally he starts to drive the boat forward. When I come back he gives me a patronizing lecture about needing to give him a signal like a thumbs up, because mansplain mansplain keel, rope propeller, mansplain... I would say something, but we are still in the port, and, well, as you know, I shouldn't talk about anything and should focus on the task.... I keep gathering dock lines and coiling them neatly... focus, I breathe, focus on my task, I smile:)

He puts up jib and main. I start to figure 8 the extra line around the winch and sit it beside the winch neat and untangled. “No!”, he says - it can't be on the winch - “look", I show him, “it is not on the winch, I am just using the winch to make it untangled and neat”. “No” he demands - it will get tangled all twisted like this, he holds up my neatly figure 8 line. He points to the nasty slippery tangled mess on the floor under his feet - it should stay like this while the sail is up. “But it won't tangle if you make it like an 8”. I say. He gives a condescending nod and head shake. I shrug, and grab my book and smile:)

Just to be clear, Recep is not an asshole:) He is from a very male dominated country, and has been in charge of a lot of things in his life. There is also a communication barrier. I think he is just so used to having people do exactly what he says without question, that he doesn’t even expect it to be any other way. He also probably doesn’t expect a woman to be able to tell him things. Anyway, lunch was good, I made a nice pasta dish with the leftover aubergine & beef:)

Pasta with aubergine and beef. Delicious.

The way I like to keep lines on the boat while in use

The wa

The way he wants lines kept while in use - you know, so they won't tangle...