Ionian to the Adriatic
12th - 20th September 2025
Guernsey - Kefalonia
“Oh bugger, we can't be seat 36, it only goes to 30!" After a night in the cosy Gatwick Yotelair I'm sat in row 28 of the Easyjet flight to Athens listening on in amusement as an elderly couple find the back of the Airbus A320. The flight is smooth but after taking off half an hour late, my tight connection to the Aegean airline flight to Kefalonia of about an hour looks even more unfeasible. Passport control in Athens is leisurely at best and security is chaotic with long snaking queues, with little sign of urgency from passengers and staff. As the minutes tick by, my connection hopes diminish. Gate B20 is not close to security so after being patted down through the scanner, I hastily grab what I hope is all my valuables and start a increasingly brisk walk with my shorts slipping down as I haven't the time to put my belt back on. Weaving through the busy terminal I lock eyes with B20, FINAL CALL. Hot and sweaty, I squeeze on the last bus across the apron.
On arrival to Kefalonia airport, the taxi driver greets me and whisks us over the island’s mountains to Sami on Kefalonia’s North East coast. Pulling up to a seaside Taverna, a familiar face is sitting in the shade of an olive tree. My good friend and fellow boat nut Joe had called less than two weeks prior and floated the idea of helping to crew the BGX60 he skipper’s from Greece to it’s overwintering location in Croatia. Fortunately I was still due a period of annual leave before the year was out, so I quickly booked time off and worked frantic long days to honor existing project deadlines.
There is little time for a catchup, as in just an hour we are due to meet up with a road tanker in the nearby port of Sami to take on diesel for the next delivery leg. We take the Highfield tender out to the sleek 60ft BGX60 lying at anchor. We pack the Minicat away that has been drying in the sun and ready fenders and lines. The anchor hauled, we head to the port and hail port Sami on the VHF. We are given a wall berth along side a beautiful classically styled schooner, and Joe effortlessly maneuvers alongside with the aid of IPS drives and joystick controls despite the 15knot cross wind. Soon a rattily dented tanker lorry pulls up and and we commence the bunkering of 1700ltrs of fuel. With the tank brimmed, we thank the driver and port official who lends a hand to slip lines. We motor north to the bay of quaint village Agia Effimia for the night. Dropping the hook at the sun sets, we jump in the dinghy and motor ashore to find provisions and dinner.
Kefalonia > Croatia
The following morning we wake up with a sunrise swim and run ashore with the tender to visit the bakery for breakfast pastries and fresh bread. Setting course north, we transit between Kephalonia and Ithaca, famous as the home of the mythical hero Odysseus from Homer’s Epic poem. Joe is particularly excited, having named their kitten after Odysseus.
Corfu & Albania
The sea state is smooth is slight, the sky clear blue, and the sea an even more rich azure as we make steady progress past Cape Lefkatas Lighthouse on the island of the same name. Our course will take us inside of Corfu late that afternoon and we soak in the sights of Paxos and Antipaxos islands en route. As we pass Corfu town, I clock an AIS target catching us fast from astern, I turn and to my surprise a soviet era foiling ferry flies past at over 30knots. Fondly known as flying dolphins elsewhere in Greece, these unusual Voskhod 50 year old hydrofoil vessels operate in Greek and Albanian waters, having originally been built for operating in inland waters of the Soviet Union. Over 3,00o were originally constructed during the cold war, but now very few remain in active service, with higher capacity catamarans favored for these shorter coastal routes.
The Albanian coastline is captivating with mountains rolling into the border between the Ionian and Adriatic seas. Passing on innocent passage through Albania waters in the dark, an intriguing orange glow is radiating in the distance. As we approach the coastline of the Llogara National Park, it is clear a wildfire is ravaging the cliffside. It’s a sight I’ve not seen before, but not an usual event for the region with wildfires becoming more furious year on year. As night falls we adopt a watch pattern of about 2 hours on, 2 hours off, completing the log every half an hour and keeping a watchful eye for unlit fishing markers and wayward fishing vessels. I enjoy the moonrise over Albania’s Sazan Island and the definition it offers to the previously inky black sea. The island has been bought by the Trump family in the the last year, and whilst riddled with mines an unexploded ordinance due to it’s previous strategic location, is set to be ravaged and turned into luxury resort. I’m off watch at sunrise and catching up on some sleep but only lightly when Joe mentions the sea has reduces to a mirror state with grin, I’m keen to jump up for swim. The throttles are reduced to idle and we glide to a stop. The engines are shut down and we drink in the silence. Diving into over 1000m of water and opening eyes, I’m taken back to the first time I experienced depths like this during off the coast of Guadeloupe during the RORC Caribbean 600 race. With a few laps of completed around the boat and jumps from the bow to alleviate the stiffness of sitting on watch, we resume our mission.
Dubrovnik, Croatia
Mid afternoon, the walls of Old Town Dubrovnik hove into view. With several days of boatwork to accomplish before tying up at the marina, we enter the bay of Zaton north of Dubrovnik. The app noforeignland which I utilised heavily on Argonaut’s previous adventures, offers valuable insights into the suitability of anchorages and we opt to drop the hook further out in the bay with strong holding in a muddy seabed. The next two days are comprise of long days of cleaning and various boat jobs interspersed with shore excursions to swim, free dive and hike in our surroundings. One important tender mission was to visit the Marina which would soon become the boats winter home. Ripping across the bay we pass beneath the Dr. Franjo Tuđman Bridge and snake up the inlet to ACI Marina to scout out the mooring options and meet the Marina team.
Komolac
Old Town, Dubrovnik
A few days later with the BGX60 securely on a med mooring in the marina and another full day of boat jobs complete, we had some downtime to explore the nearby city of Dubrovnik. To many it is recognizable as Kings Landing from TV series Game of Thrones. With 14th Century origins the city is packed full of history. We were somewhat surprised to learn of the atrocities that occurred as recently as 1991 with the Seige of Dubrovnic during the Croatian War of Independence. The city, a protected UNESCO World Heritage Site at the time of the conflict and to this day, was attacked by the Yugoslav People's Army (JNA) for over 7 months, killing 194 Croatian military personnel, as well as 82–88 Croatian civilians. JNA suffered 165 fatalities. The city was extensively damaged and despite being largely rebuilt, still shows visible scars with shrapnel damage to stonework.
A 40 euro ticket provided access to the Old town walls for the best perspectives of the city, over the clay rooftiles and tight historic streets. A walk which is worth allowing several allowing several hours for and enough time to explore the maritime museum inside St Johns Fort.
Mount Srd
As sunset approached we caught a cable car to the top of nearby Mount Srd which towers 400m above the city. Here we watched the sun slip over the over the Adriatic horizon and golden hues cast over the many islands peppering the coast. After sunset, mooching around the Imperial Fort built during the Napolenic Era, we stumbled upon a discreet museum which documented the Siege of Dubrovnik. It also provided access to the roof top of the fort which was peppered with shrapnel damage and provided a vantage point of the Radio tower which narrowly survived the onslaught of gun and missile fire during the conflict. We descended the mountain in darkness down the loose and rocky zig—zagging path back into the city.
A unexpected call to the Mediterranean.