We went peacefully to sleep under the lee of the castle off a sandy beach with waves lapping gentle against the hull. Sometime later someone turned the cosmic washing machine onto cold wash and we were rolled in every direction of the compass as the wind and waves created a jumble of the ocean. In the dark the cliffs loomed ever closer. China chinked together, glasses rattled and loose objects fell to the floor. Lucinda and I retreated from the booming cabin to try and snatch some sleep in the saloon. Morning revealed rollers crashing onto the beach and we decided not to attempt a landing. As we left there were rain clouds over the headland to the east and a rainbow to the west. The surface of the water boiled for 10 minutes with a heavy rain shower and then it all subsided into a gloomy weary sort of day. Within two hours we passed the last of the three capes of the Peloponnese and felt ourselves back in the Ionian. By lunchtime an anaemic sun appeared and we anchored under the shadow of the castle at Methoni.
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