the ferry boat story
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Andrea is keeping up a subtle pressure, letting me know that she wants to leave the island. She's not into this middle of the road scene. She wants an island that is either totally Greek, or she wants to be in our house in Carr pro, North Carolina happily vacuuming with the air-conditioning on high. She doesn't get the same thrill that I get watching the ferry boats come in at all hours of the day and night. I have been trying to get Amaranth interested. My love of ships is something I treasure. I hope I don't create an obsession in her.
I remember a few years ago there was an English gentleman staying at the Hotel Stavros who knew everything there was to know about all the ferries.
Most of the ferries came from Holland and Scandinavia. Many of them ended up on the rocks when they became too old to sell and the only way to get rid of them at a profit was to wreck them. The Agile Porto's sits on a small islet off the island of Kimolos. The Ionion is quietly resting near Kasteli, Crete. It's strange to see them because I remember them sailing into the bay, painted white and full of life. Now they are totally covered in rust with not a speck of their white paint visible. It's an eerie sensation to see one.