Telltales 63: With MAJOR  contributions from Maynard.

Black Sea: Ukraine, Saturday 2 July – Friday 8 July 2005

Yalta, July 2^nd

Feodosia Port Control directs us to an anchor position outside the harbor and checks with an agent. The agent comes through on the VHF and gets all details, about Sylphe, nationality and passengers. When we report that we are checking into Ukraine, he will check with immigration and customs. 15 minutes later he is back on the radio informing us that we are not allowed into Feodosia and that formalities can NOT be done here, we have to go to Yalta to check in. The reason being that Feodosia is only a commercial port and immigration has denied us access, much to the regret of the agent. When we report that we even have no diesel and that Yalta is another 12 hours sailing, he shows no remorse and we are sent to sea. Not the friendliest and seaman-like approach and attitude. We suspect that immigration is simply not willing to do the paperwork on a Saturday, since the pilot book clearly states that Feodosia is one of the easiest ports to do the paperwork. Well no longer….

What a bummer! 65 hours at sea, running out of diesel and quite tired. We sail out and sail along the coast on a complete mirror like sea. The spirit onboard remains good, as there is always MORE...

They can not get us DOWN

We continue to call the Coast Guard, but there is no response. We arrive at 1 in the morning at Yalta. And 2 miles out the Coast Guard calls us and directs us to the entrance of the Yalta passenger Port. Again we are not allowed into the port and they tell us to drop anchor outside the breakwater in front of blasting disco’s and plenty of lights and action onshore. Not only is the sound from the several disco’s overwhelming after having been at sea for three days, but the big swell will make the night  very uncomfortable. Roland convinces the port control to allow us inside the breakwater of the other Yalta port: Massandra. Here we drop anchor at 2 in the morning, having used the last 5 liters of diesel. When we drop anchor the port control informs us (via VHF) to move 70 meters to starboard. They must have some serious radars and are checking and monitoring everything, as we will find out later.

Port control informs us that we will need an agent to do the formalities for checking into Ukraine, however not in the middle of the night.

Yalta (Massandra) Sunday, July 3^rd,

We wake up at 9 the next morning to find the sun shining and plenty of commercial ships around us, the largest part of them being enormous dredgers. There are 2 other private yachts in the port, both Ukrainian. At 9 we call Port Control again to ask for an agent, but are informed that this will probably have to wait another day, in the meantime we are not allowed off the boat and are to stay at anchor. As we said, not the easiest procedures and not the friendliest approach, but we have no choice. We settle down for yet another day on Sylphe, before we can finally explore this country.

A. Nevsky Cathedral, Yalta

At 11 in the morning a barge sails into port and is met by a tugboat, which comes close to have a look at us. A few seconds later they call us by VHF and ask whether we need an agent. It turns out to be the local Massandra agent, who normally only deals with commercial ships, but is willing to help us out. An hour later we are docked in between two huge dredgers and Maynard and Roland disappear with the agent for the paperwork. This takes about three hours, $US300 and an inch and 1/2 of forms. However no hassle of customs onboard, immigration happily stamps the passports and we are free to go. The first task however is to arrange diesel, which Andrei (the agent) takes care of as well and 10 jerry cans later Sylphe’s tanks are topped up.

Massandra is bout 3 kilometers from Yalta and Maynard and Strat take off into town, Roland staying onboard for safety. Maynard and Strat have a taste of Yalta, which turns out to be full of holiday makers and is a typical summer resort: big boulevard, souvenir shops, fast food restaurants and quite lively. This is very much a family place, the dress in town is rather informal and most walk around in a bathing suit. A beer in a local bar and a diner in the fanciest restaurant of town (where they are the only clients) complete the evening, before returning to Sylphe and reporting to Roland about life on land.

Yalta (Massandra), Monday July 4^th

After we made an arrangement with some of the crew of the dredger next door to guard Sylphe, we all decide to go into town. We have a nice lunch, walk around town, buy a new phone and local simcard and hope to have the internet connection working again soon. We check out the sights of Yalta town and are impressed with the buildings, city setup and the boulevard. On the boulevard you can have your picture taken, sitting on a Harley Davidson and dressed up as a Hells Angel, or as Louis XIII and sitting on a golden throne. Quite hilarious!

Maynard and Strat take off with a cabdriver for a tour of the more impressive sights just outside Yalta town. The Livadia Palace, summer home of the Tsar and venue for the Yalta Conference, the A. Nevsky Cathedral, the Alupka Palace (somewhat reminiscent of Castle Drogo) and the tiny gem, the Swallow’s Nest are all visited. There is much to see here and we look forward to coming back.

Some of Yalta's highlights

In the evening the cabdriver takes us to a very nice waterfront restaurant, where we have difficulty ordering food, as they speak no English at all, but end up with a great dish of Barbunia fish, cooked to perfection and with a great view over the Bay of Yalta. On the waterfront is a number of rusting metal launches, that would make perfect riverboats in Holland and are worthwhile restoring. Roland dreams of a new business opportunity.

Yalta – Laspi Tuesday July 5^th

We sail out of Massandra, after having checked (together with Andrei) what formalities we have to do. It turns out that our documents must be stamped each time by Immigration, who registers our destination and gives us a number of days to reach that. It is still not clear if we are allowed to move around freely and/or in the other direction, but Roland has negotiated our mooring fee down from $US 60 to $1.39 for the two nights

With a nice 30 knot following wind we sail around Mis Aytodor, where the famous Swallows Nest is located. A Walt Disney- like building sitting on a rock, spectacularly overlooking the sea. On the shore we can see all the beautiful architecture of past days AND huge monstrous half-finished Soviet hotels. They all seem to have been abandoned halfway through the construction somewhere around the 1980’s. A strange and bizarre sight. (Some of the hotels have more than 1000 rooms.)

The wind shifts to our nose, (of course!) and we motor onward to the little anchorage of Laspi, which the pilot describes as a summer holiday camp for children. The 25 knot wind on our nose slows us down and unfortunately the Coast Guard directs us even further out to sea, because our course takes us along the coast in front of the presidential palace. We are ordered 5 miles off shore. Roland decides to try making it three miles and we get away with it. It is just dark as we turn into the bay of Laspi. With no lights on shore, Roland starts doubting the pilot and the charts, as they show nothing. An enormous number of buoys can be seen floating on the water, almost all in line, about 50 of them. Just when we are ready to turn our bow out to sea and proceed to Balaclava, the lights of some buildings appear and Strat notices a small channel between the markers. We slowly make our way in, maneuvering through the channel and rounding the unlit breakwater, which is just big enough to give us room to tie alongside to. There is nobody around. No disco, no harbormaster and no restaurant. We have a happy meal on Sylphe and although we bounce a little against the quay, we sleep like babies that night.

Some kind of harbormaster shows up and asks (in Russian) some information to which we can not answer. He disappears after several attempts. A 20 year old kid shows up with his girlfriend (who speaks a little English) and tries to sell us some fish. We kindly ask him to come back the next morning.

Anton and his Lisa fish

Laspi – Balaclava, Wednesday July 6th

We wake up with the sound of children on the beach, splashing water and an instructor’s whistle. We sip coffee in the cockpit, absorbing our surroundings, which Strat has already explored on his morning jog. Huge concrete buildings house about 5oo children in the age from 6 to 18. They come here for a holiday from all over Ukraine and Russia. In the past it was the more favored who received a holiday here. Nowadays a small fee will allow anyone in.

We watch in awe when these children are allowed into the pool (cordoned area of the beach) for one minute and than the whistle of the guard sends them all back to the shore. Very disciplined indeed. The “harbormaster” comes back and asks for a 50$ mooring fee, we settle on 5$ within 2 minutes.

The young man, an employee of the camp returns to visit us and we follow him to his cabin on the beach to inspect his fish. We are than introduced to his 5 roommates who are all university students and work here as lifeguards for the summer for $US40 a month. What a delightful group of young men they turn out to be. We learn of their backgrounds, ambitions and how they amuse themselves Meanwhile our fish (Lisa or fox fish) is cleaned and our fisherman proceeds to cut it up, cover it in batter and fries it up. Strat, Maynard and Roland have an impromptu lunch in the boys’ cabin washed down with several beers fetched from Sylphe. Later we retire to the pier for a swim and Maynard not to be outdone by the boys dives from the highest point (feet-first). A tour of Sylphe is then conducted and the boys are presented with Sylphe Black Sea Tour tee-shirts and Canadian pins. A very friendly welcome, we will return here again.

With 25 knots of wind we round Cape Sarych and proceed motor sailing into Balaclava, which was the old submarine base for the Russian navy and had been closed for all visitors till mid 1990’s. From seaward there is nothing to see, except the cliffs, but suddenly it opens up. Very much like Bonifacio on Corsica, a dog leg entrance suddenly shows the full size of the harbor and town.

An old Genoese fort stands proud on the cliffs; the waterfront is lined with beautiful old houses, run down and in desperate need of repair. On the left water bank, the caves in which the submarines were hidden from viewers, planes and satellites are still visible and open to the public. Balaclava offers one of the two real marinas in the Ukraine and is a delight. We are directed to a berth in front of the Yacht Club and Sergey welcomes us. Sergey is a retired submarine commander and runs this show like a military operation. Bodyguards at the gate and at the gangway of Sylphe, personnel that doubles their efforts if he just even blinks with his eyes, and still a lot of construction going on in the marina, but all very new, very modern and if one closes his eyes for the spoken language this place could be anywhere in the world.

Balaclava Submarine port

Since we are the first foreign yacht of the season we are welcomed with Vodka (and a lot of it). Sergey sits down with us and explains the system. “His” staff takes care of our paperwork and it is dealt with, while we are still sipping vodka, very efficient. The marina bar and restaurant offers us all, and we do not even go through the gate of the marina this first day to explore the rest of town (or had it to do with the amount of Vodka??) We have a siesta and a late night dinner in the marina….and more vodka.

We meet Max, who speaks German and is the local mechanic. But also the owner of a Harley Davidson (which gets Maynard's heart beating) and a Wrangler Jeep. He fixes us up with an appointment to see the sights in his car or Harley the next morning.

Sitting in a safe and modern Marina after having left Istanbul some 6 weeks ago has a relaxing effect on Roland. (or again was it the vodka??)

Balaclava, Thursday and Friday July 7^th and 8^th

This is going to be Strat’s last day onboard as he has a plane to catch the very early next morning, so we do need to do some sightseeing. Max indeed shows up with the Wrangler and disappears with Maynard and Strat. A ride through the surrounding countryside offers splendid views of the completely protected Balaclava bay, the fort (2500 years old), the ruins of once great mansions and the boys return delighted. A deal has been struck with Max to bring Strat to the airport (an hour drive) the next morning of 5 o’clock, so that worry is also gone.

Strat enjoying the view, terra firma and a ride

Roland spends most of the day trying to get the internet working and is not very successful. But gas bottles are being successfully filled, new fan belts for the alternator are being found by Max and small jobs are done. Lunch is automatically served in the marina restaurant, where we meet up with Michael (a rather strange older American) in the company of two local Ukrainian beauties. We still have not figured it out and we leave this one to your imagination

Some more t-shirts find a destination

The Black Sea Sylphe t-shirts are a HIT, with anyone that we present them to and some more are distributed, partly to make sure that they will remember us next time, partly simply as a gift. And it works. Strat has brought some 40 Canadian flag pins and these are just as equally appreciated and distributed

The local Greenpeace is demonstrating in two small tents, just outside the marina entrance. They have been there for more than a month already and are protesting g the presence of a huge gravel pit, just at the north end of the bay, which pollutes the bay with silting, but more importantly with its noise. Maynard immediately signs the register as the sound is indeed disturbing and a pity for such a special place. It is not until the next morning, when we get a view of the enormous excavations, that we realize the size of this operation. The look down into this enormous hole that they are digging is impressive and nothing compared to any size that I can relate to.

We are having a late diner and toasting to Strats imminent departure, when David turns up. He is American, but has been living here for some time, has been married to a Ukrainian and has two kids. Apparently he runs a software company and does his business via his mobile, while he sits in Ukraine, Cyprus or other places. He is definitely treated as a “KING” by the locals and that makes us just wonder a little more. He offers to help with the internet the next morning, as Roland has been successful to get the GPRS going but the first thing that happened was a virus getting in, what a bummer.

Strat goes off to bed at midnight as Max will pick him up at 5. Maynard, Roland and David do some more local toasting. By the time they come “home” Strat is gone.

The next day is spent leisurely. David shows up with a disk to indeed fix the computer and takes Maynard and Roland later to Sebastopol, which is the big navy port, just 20 kilometers down the road. On the way we inspect a Roman road in incredibly fine condition as well as the valley of the Charge of the Light Brigade. In Sebastopo a boat trip through the port is made and we see old navy ships that are still floating (do not ask me how), older hospital ships, a few submarines, beautiful old tugs and tenders and all in all a delight to see this “past” navy history.

FIRE AT WILL.....!!!!!!

Herman Goering’s sailboat is lying on the hard in the Russian Yacht Club, very similar to Sylphe, built in steel and in need of a restoration as well. Roland is not tempted this time. David’s tour is very much appreciated and we have a look at the local “chandler” to find some gorgeous original submarine clocks, to hang on the wall. Still the wind up type and I just might get one, later.

Sebastopol Waterfront

We make it an early night, for a change……(Whew!)..

Ahoy

Roland

s/y SYLPHE

www.sail-in-style.com