The sun had dropped in a blaze of pink and orange across the peaks on the mainland, but our anchor still wasn’t set. It would be dark soon and there was no way of seeing what was below. The skipper called across – “I’m going to try again.”

It was our last night before we were due to head back to Athens. We were in a rocky bay between two small islands and there was one other boat anchored nearby. As we started to re manoeuvre for anchoring, the boat seemed to be turning in a circle. I was standing on the bows with the anchor controls. I glanced back at the skipper who looked puzzled too. Either something wasn’t right with the engines or we were caught in a mysterious whirlpool…

This second week of sailing we’d seen a change in the weather, with cloudy skies, a little rain, and some strong winds.

At the beginning of the week we’d arrived at the legendary island of Hydra. The rugged artist’s island, seemed almost unchanged from our visits 20 years ago. The tiny harbour is framed by typically Greek homes, where terracotta roofs intersect at all angles, and narrow cobbled streets zigzag up from the wide quay. There are no cars allowed on Hydra, apart from the dustbin lorry,  and mules can be spotted ferrying luggage up the streets to hotels and holiday homes nestled beneath the rocky hillside.

It’s always fun and games mooring or attempting to moor a boat in the harbour. There are limited spaces for yachts along the quay, as the walls and stone jetties are crammed with fishing boats, and there is a constant buzz of boat taxis and passenger ferries arriving and departing every few minutes. However, once all the quayside moorings are taken, the fun begins, as boats lay anchors in front of others and moor up back onto other vessels, sometimes three or four deep in a line out from the quay walls.

We joined in the antics and ran our catamaran back in front of another one who obliging let us tie up. Then we sat and watched the afternoon mooring dramas unfold from a nearby cafe. As more and more boats poured into the shrinking space in the harbour, one tied up beside our yacht and we were very nicely hemmed in for the night!

It had been just as crazy on our visit here 20 years ago – the only change we could really spot was the increase in upmarket shops with designer clothes and accessories. The church bell tower remains a dominant landmark and made its presence known every hour with a peel of bells signalling the time.

Early the next morning as we prepared our ropes ready to leave, the 7am cacophony of rings was almost deafening – I assume it was time for everyone in Hydra to wake up, and they made sure nobody would be late for school or work! 

Sailing out of Hydra the wind was up and we were bouncing through the waves as we all tried to get the fenders and the ropes tidied up and secure. It was such a contrast from the day before and very exhilarating as the waves crashed across the front of the yacht.

Forty eight hours later we were attempting to anchor in almost darkness, but the boat wasn’t working properly – it turns out one engine was stuck in forward – hence the reason we couldn’t reverse, and kept turning in circles. We dropped the anchor as best we could, abandoning an attempt to take a line ashore to tie to the rocks. The skipper headed off to chat with the skipper of the only other yacht anchored nearby. When in doubt, call a friend.

A few minutes later he was back with the other skipper onboard. Amazingly he was a professional skipper from the same company we’d hired our catamaran from and he had handed the boat over to us at the start of our trip. He checked the engine and confirmed the problem, which he couldn’t fix either. He told us to put down more anchor chain and said he would be around in the morning  in case there was an issue with the anchor and he would call the company to get them to help us get into the marina tomorrow. We felt reassured, it was nice to know we weren’t alone. We strung out all our fenders and hoped the anchor would hold.

The next morning the sun was shining and there was time for a swim in the rocky bay that  had transformed overnight from an ominous anchorage in dark seas to a pretty calm bay with clear bright water. 

However, our anchor turned out to be firmly stuck, which wasn’t surprising with all our circling. Thankfully, the other skipper called out advice from his boat as he hovered nearby and with a lot of back and forth and round and round, and a little prayer, it eventually unjammed and we were able to pull it up.

We were pleased to have a little posse of experts come alongside us when we eventually arrived in Athens, all helping us manoeuvre the broken boat and tie up safely for the night.

Looking back, we were all thankful for the strange coincidence that had put that skipper beside us just when we needed help. It was the second “accidental angel” we’ve encountered sailing in Greece, but I’m hoping not the last!