Arriving in Athens – straight into the heat
We started in Alimos Marina in Athens. If you want to go sailing in Greece in July, you basically need two things: water, and more water. Provisioning already feels like endurance sport. You’re not in the North Sea. You’re standing on a floating pizza stone.
We take over our Fountaine Pajot Astréa 42, built 2021, callsign “NARNIA”. In good shape, systems working, gear fine. And then the classic questions at the start of any charter week: Who sleeps where. Who’s cooking. Who is allowed to touch the plotter without getting yelled at.
The crew: five people, five temperaments, one shared goal – sea, fun, food.
Lines off, out of Alimos, first heading: Kanakia.
First miles: Kanakia / Apolimano – getting into rhythm
The first leg is always about settling in. You figure out what creaks where, who actually knows how to coil a line, who jumps off the transom first, and who is still pretending not to be slightly nervous.
Kanakia and Apolimano (out around Salamina and nearby) are not the most glamorous anchorages of the whole trip, but they’re perfect for day one. You’re already out of Athens noise, but still close enough that if something feels off, you’re not stuck on the far side of the Aegean. Mentally, that helps.
Also: first proper swim stop. Once the hook is in and holding, everybody is in the water within two minutes. Greek summer sailing is simple: You are either steering, swimming or melting.
Poros – harbour ballet and grilled fish
Next stop: Poros.
Poros looks almost fake when you arrive. Colourful houses stacked up the hillside, church towers, tavern signs, dinghies buzzing around. The harbour is busy, yes – but not complete chaos. It feels alive in a good way.
And then comes the docking show. Med mooring, stern-to, drop anchor, reverse in, pretend you’re totally relaxed, try not to lay your chain over the neighbour’s chain, try not to be on YouTube that evening. In Poros, someone is always watching you come in. That’s just how Poros works.
Evening: go ashore, eat with a view over the waterfront, watch the light on the water. By that point in the trip you can feel the crew settling. Somebody naturally becomes “dinghy officer”. Somebody else quietly takes ownership of shore lines and fenders. Someone else crashes by 22:30 and swears they’re just “resting the eyes”.
Dokos – quiet, rock, sky
From Poros we continued to Dokos.
Dokos is the opposite of town life. No promenade, no bar every 30 metres, no superyacht soundtrack. Just dry hills, rocks, blindingly clear water and a night sky that looks like it was switched back on.
Anchoring off Dokos means: you cook on board, you eat on board, and you end up just sitting and staring into the dark, listening to the small sounds of the boat. This is the point where the trip stops being “a holiday in Greece” and starts being “this is why we sail”.
Perdika – fish, sunset, civilisation again
After Dokos, we headed to Perdika.
Perdika sits on the southwest side of Aegina and it’s pretty much the distilled version of Greek small-harbour romantic: fishing boats, tavern tables practically in the water, cats doing cat things under the table, grilled fish, tomatoes that taste like actual tomatoes.
You can either anchor just outside and go in with the dinghy, or come stern-to if there’s space.
Perdika feels noisy after Dokos – people, music, plates, laughter – but in a warm way. It’s that moment in the week where everyone is salty, slightly sunburned, relaxed and already talking in “remember when we…” sentences.
Also: you will order too much food. This is how Perdika works.
Back toward Athens via Salamina
The last stretch of the route took us back up towards Athens, stopping around Salamina.
Salamina is not there to impress Instagram. Salamina is there because logistics are real. You’re close enough to Alimos to get back next morning without stress, but you’re not yet back in the concrete. It’s the last proper evening on board: last swim, last sunset in the cockpit, last “which anchorage was your favourite?” debate.
And then the part nobody likes: tanks, rubbish bags, damp towels hanging everywhere, phones charging in every socket, “has anyone seen my sunglasses”, “whose charger is this”.
Back in Alimos – and back to land mode
Then comes that hard cut: You slide back into Alimos Marina and suddenly you’re back in Athens traffic, horns, scooters, city air. Two days earlier you were looking for dolphins. Now you’re looking for a bin.
You hand over the boat, sign papers, take the last crew photos with “NARNIA”. And someone says, quietly but honestly: “That was good.”
Conclusion
142 nautical miles in six days sounds like vacation. 30 hours and 45 minutes under way tells the truth. It was hot. It was sticky. It was fantastic.
“NARNIA”, our Astréa 42, carried us through the Saronic Gulf without drama. The crew worked. No one went overboard. No one redecorated the boat with the anchor chain. Everyone ended the week with that slightly tired, slightly proud smile.
That’s exactly what a summer sail is supposed to feel like.
Lessons learned
- July in Greece is not for people who love cool air. But the water is basically air conditioning.
- Poros will show you, in public, how good (or not) your stern-to docking really is.
- Dokos is where you remember why you fell in love with being on the water in the first place.
- Perdika is dangerous if you arrive hungry. You will always order one dish too many.
- Five people on a 42-foot Fountaine Pajot works fine – as long as everyone knows who’s on anchor watch and who is hiding the last clean spoon.
- In the end nobody talks about the logbook numbers. Everyone talks about shared dinners and quiet anchorages. The rest is just statistics.
Trip facts
19–26 July 2025
Route: Alimos (Athens) – Kanakia – Apolimano – Poros – Dokos – Perdika – Salamina – Alimos (Athens)
Boat: Fountaine Pajot Astréa 42 (2021), “NARNIA”
Crew: Ben, Urs, Leo, Sarah, Roger
6 days on the water
142 nautical miles
30:45 hours under way
