#4 Soledad Sailing Challenge 2025
HERO OF THE DAY - NIKŠA
Einstein’s theory of relativity explains how time and space behave in different reference frames, and in a way, it perfectly applies to life on a boat. On board, the days are so intense and full of events that time seems to pass more slowly than it does at home. Something that happened yesterday on the boat feels as though it belongs to some distant past.
Yet even that “ancient” yesterday—or the day before—should not be forgotten. Still, as we sit anchored off Aegina with Soledad out of service due to a motor failure, everything that happened just yesterday suddenly feels irrelevant.
After an overnight sail from Kalymnos, we finally made it to Serifos, one of the gems of the western Cyclades. Soledad, naturally, beat us there—helped along by the mighty power of their engine, which their captain, the enlightened absolutist Omer, benevolently allows his crew to employ.
As the old maritime saying goes, gentlemen don’t sail against the wind. By that logic, we are clearly not gentlemen—because for days now, we’ve done nothing but sail straight into it. And, according to the forecasts, we’ll be bashing our way upwind all the way to Zadar.
The moment we dropped anchor in Serifos—before we’d even opened the hatches—Nikša was already swimming over to announce that he was starving.
The bloodthirsty boy and his mentor Arif, while waiting for us, thoroughly explored the gastronomic offerings of Serifos, found what they needed for survival, and concluded that the seafood menus were over and that they should head to a grill house as soon as possible.
They longed for meat, and meat they got—but not at the place they had so carefully chosen. Instead, we ended up at a beach tavern right next door. Life on a boat has its own rules: plan too much, and you’ll be punished.
This time, the punishment fell on Nikša and Arif, who quickly discovered they weren’t the only “explorers” to have consulted Professor Google Reviews and “unearthed” that spot. So there was no available table.
And yet, that didn’t stop them from making new plans—this time to watch the match between Fenerbahçe and Benfica. A few hours before departure, they were already rushing off to prepare for the viewing.
According to the grand itinerary, our next stop was to be Moni, a tiny islet on the edge of the Aegean, practically standing guard at the entrance to the Corinth Canal.
HERO OF THE DAY - NIKŠA
At Moni, Soledad—despite the engine starter troubles and thanks to Nikša—arrived just in time for the start of the match. Being the giant he is, Nikša managed to restart the engine by hand when it cut out (those who know the strength it takes will marvel; those who don’t will just have to take our word for it—it’s nothing short of a miracle).
Still, their idyllic happiness didn’t last long, because as soon as we arrived they received an order from the crew on Pero: we would not be spending the night there, as the place was unsafe.
We, the crew on Pero, weren’t exactly thrilled either about not stopping, but it seemed it was our fate to rest a little after hours of wrestling with weak winds and flying the spinnaker—which, on my own boat, I had never before seen unpacked.
When the news was delivered, the Soledad crew had just dropped anchor (they had even tied up to the shore—which takes considerable extra effort and a volunteer willing to dive in and fasten the lines). They had already pulled out cold beers, a laptop, and their Fenerbahçe jerseys.
The wind drowned out their grumbling—and probably a few curses too—but you could practically cut the negative energy with a knife.

CIRCE
It turned out that Aegina was our very own Circe.
She truly bewitched us.
First, she transformed us from swine back into humans—after we all had a proper swim. Then she treated us to food and drink, only to finally cast her last spell on Soledad’s starter, ensuring we couldn’t leave.
And since, like Odysseus himself, we had nearly forgotten who we were, what we were, and where we were headed, we even began to think that staying here might not be such a bad idea after all.
We stoically endured our “punishment.”
We had to stay another day on Aegina, waiting for a new starter for Soledad to arrive from Athens.
No one, except Başak—who keeps her eyes fixed on the goal—found it too hard to bear.
We thought we’d be resting for just one day, but that day stretched into two and a half.
And once we learned that the insurance would cover all the parts, plus two nights in a hotel and a rental car if needed, nobody even thought of complaining.
Morning on Aegina passed in a truly “homely” atmosphere.
To our left, the French on a small old Bavaria were cleaning each other’s hair from lice.
In front of us, a group of Americans from Boston on a chartered catamaran, their boat overflowing with kids glued to their phones. And right beside us, an ultra-polite Austrian who, the moment he saw we were having engine trouble on Soledad, immediately offered to help. When we told him everything was under control, he stripped naked and calmly went on with his daily boat routines. Luckily, we didn’t end up needing his help—since in our crew, no one is quite bold enough to ask for assistance from a man who’s completely bare naked.
That evening we dined at a phenomenal tavern—perhaps home to the best shrimp risotto in the world—along with other delicacies, the indispensable Barbayani ouzo, and karpuzi. We watched a massive sea bass, a moray eel, and thousands of sargos battling over our discarded shrimp heads in the shallows, while we good-naturedly gossiped about anyone who so much as wandered a little away from the table.
While we were busy laughing and gossiping about one another, it was obvious the rest of the harbor was doing the same about us. Who could blame them? From the outside, we must have looked like a mystery crew—no one could tell who belonged to whom, why we were sailing together, or even which country we came from, since our chatter bounced nonstop between Croatian, Turkish, and English.
In the end, Aegina cost us a bit of time, and Serifos cost Özgur his wallet, but the trade-off was worth it: Aegina gave us magical evenings, lazy holiday bliss, and swims that felt like paradise—while Özgur, at least, earned the chance to “gracefully” skip out on paying the bill.