Arrival on Kefalonia

We arrived in Katelios yesterday evening after a 7 hour bus trip combined with a ferry across the Ionian Sea. The ferry arrived in the port of Poros on the island of Kefalonia at half past six. Steep green mountains rose dramatically up around the small town. After a few minutes our bus rolled out from the bowels of the immense white ferry.

The driver got out started directing unloading for the passengers departing in Poros. During a lull I approached the gray haired gentleman, begged his pardon and in Greek, I said that we would like to go to Markopoulo. I had rehearsed the phrase for the better part of three quarters of an hour on the ferry, however his brow furrowed mystified and he hailed a bald, bearded man who spoke English. He relayed to the driver our intended destination and we were off.

The road from Poros was steep and winding with many a blind turn. The hills were lush and green and dare I say again, dramatic. The bus trolled up the switch backs and through sleepy towns full of white stucco buildings and red roofs. I marveled at the power lines running along 50 and 60 degree slopes with what appeared to be spans of a thousand foot over chasms and gullies.

I caught a glimpse of the road sign for Pastra and checked my map of Kefalonia. Ours would be the next stop. The village clung high to side of a hill that plunged into a cove of the deep blue Ionian sea. The bus rolled to a stop next to the church in Markopoulo just before eight. The bus driver got out and helped us with our backpacks stowed underneath. I thanked and tipped him. I wish I had the Greek to laud his bravery on such roads.

The bus pulled away revealing a tall, wiry man in shorts and a long sleeved T-shirt. He was dark skinned and had a few strands of gray in his otherwise black hair. He introduced himself as Manuel or Manu. He and his wife, Fiona, are co-directors of the Katelios Group for the Research and Protection of Marine and Terrestrial Animals. Jean and I introduced ourselves, loaded our rucksacks into the back of his teal, two door compact and jetted off down the winding roads towards the sea.

On the way he filled us in. He'd been directing the Research group for about seven years. He and his wife had one child and were expecting another. There were three volunteers in the housing already and a family with their own accommodations in town. As volunteers we would divide our time between working on the beach and in the research center in Katelios. Night patrols wouldn't start until late May or early June dependent on volunteer numbers and when the first turtle tracks are discovered during the morning patrols.

Manu pointed out the direction of the only shop in town before veering off an empty road down a steep hillside. In the slanting, evening light we turned in a dirt drive way under the spreading canopy of a tree in front of a large two story white complex. It was a simple, unadorned white washed building. Some, faded Greek text was stenciled on its road side. A rough, concrete veranda lined with doors crept along the front of the building facing the sea. A long table with plastic chairs sat underneath a leafy trellis in the lawn.

The surf roared in our ears and a warm breeze greeted us as we unloaded from the car. Manu took us to edge of the lawn past the trellis and pointed out to a long strip of desolate sandy beach a quarter of a mile below, identifying it as the turtle's nesting area.

Manu searched through a jumble of keys and came up with one for our room. It rattled the lock open. The interior mirrored the the outside in its simplicity. White walls, composite rock floors, two chairs, a divan and a bed in the living area. The kitchen was divided from the living area by a half wall. The kitchen contained a two burner gas stove, a small fridge, a mishmash of pots, plates and utensils, four chairs and a table.

Manu pointed out the main switch board in the living area where we could turn on the hot water heater. The bathroom, also on the ground floor, was composed of a western style toilet, wash basin and curbed area for the shower with a shower head on the end of some flexi-tubing.

Up a narrow flight of stairs was a bedroom with a double bed, couch, desk and a wardrobe enclosed in some sort of zippered shroud. A large window opened up to the sea. In June we will have company down stairs but until then we will have it to ourselves.

Manu introduced us to a couple of the other volunteers staying next door, Bree and Helen. We weren't on the schedule yet but we could tag along tomorrow with Bree. Work started at seven. Bring water and a hat. With that he took off and we were left to our devices. We hustled up the hill and went in search of the shop Manu had mentioned. We found it easily enough and got enough provisions to last us a day or two.

We unloaded our goods and with the dying light made for the beach. The wind had picked up and white caps formed on the waves.

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The next day we got up just past six, had breakfast consisting of cereals and went outside to wait for Bree. Eerie white clouds scudded across the brightening sky. Bree, a petite, red-headed Kiwi met us and we strolled down to the beach head. She had finished her undergraduate studies in evolutionary biology and was taking some time off to travel before going to graduate school. She had been here just over a week.

We were supposed to meet up with the family staying in town. We combed the beach for ten minutes or so before seeing four figures in the distance coming toward us. A little girl in a floppy white hat charged ahead of the others to meet us. She, Abigail (9), her brother Joaquin (7) and their parents Matt and Yvette were on a four month extended holiday. Yvette had just finished her teaching degree and they decided to take off for a while. They would be here for a couple of months and then be off to the British Isles.

The objective of the morning was to mark off segments of beach. The nesting beach was divided into 187 15 meter (50') sections. The section markers would be used in the next few months to triangulate locations of turtle nests and aid in counting. Using a GPS unit we would try to locate the section markers from the previous year and only replace them if necessary.

We were to start at marker 160. Joaquin manned the GPS unit and we set off. Speaking with Matt and Yvette I learned that they had been in Athens when the riots had been going on with people throwing moltov cocktails and police in riot gear firing tear gas. Matt also filled me in on the Katelios group. It had been operating since 1982. The research has shown that turtle populations are dwindling. As the nesting area was also a good patch of sandy beach it was in high demand by developers.

Marker finding was slow going for a little while. Manu met us about half an hour into work. Eventually we knocked it out. The family continued down the beach headed for Skala while Jean, Bree and I went back to the villa where we met the third volunteer Elena.

The wind gathered in strength as the day continued and a rain storm kicked up just after midday. The rain had cleared by the afternoon, but the wind is still whipping up the sea below into a lather. We're planning to head over to the research center with Bree for her 5 o'clock shift.