You got to go check Gocek.

Gocek is 50 miles East of Marmaris and pronounced “go check”.

Some days there is no reason in who your neighbors are.

Perception checked out of Greece on a Sunday morning and cruised 25 Miles north to arrive in Marmaris, Turkey that afternoon sporting a Turkish host flag and the dreaded Yellow Q. To our starboard side was a hunk of ketch from Great Britain named Alcofrolic. The gentleman who owns and skippers this yacht was English and a genuine neighbor. He helped with the dock lines. He made no harsh remarks about the mess I made of docking. He offered a beer. He suggested that the afternoon was late. The officials on the immigration and customs dock would be leaving soon. If we hurried, we could pay the penalty fee for having them work on the week end. If we dallied a bit, it could all be set right at weekday rates on Monday morning. We dallied.

He also pointed out a couple of restaurants that turned out to be fine restaurants at a reasonable price by Turkish standards. They are unreasonably inexpensive by Dallas standards. And on the low end price wise for Turkey. The quality and service is at the high end. There is no accounting for having good neighbors.

When we returned from the official's dock Monday morning, Perception had acquired a port side neighbor. She was a Beneteau 50 named Worse. Her sister ship was a Beneteau 47 named Bad and Bad was on the opposite side of the pontoon.

The owner was holding court in the cockpit. He was quick to identify himself as English, Algenon Pukesley by name, investment banker by profession, and expert on Turkey in general and Turkish sailing in particular. Algenon has a Turkish wife. He wanted to know if we were really from Texas. The Seabrook, Texas port of call on Perception’s stern gets lots of attention. He knows everything there is to know about our President, Dubya. He has called on Dubya out there in Texas on business many times we were told.

He just loves Texas. Although, it’s too flat and too hot.

“Why are you flying that silly yellow rag?” He pointed at the Quarantine flag on the starboard spreader.

“We came in from Greece yesterday afternoon. Only now have we cleared with customs, immigration and such.”

“No one flies a Q flag! It just isn’t done. I know everything there is to know about sailing in Turkey. It just isn’t done.”

“The books, etiquette, say that we should. We are new to Turkey. I would rather ere on the side of proper. I’ll take it down.”

“You never should have put it up in the first place. It is not necessary. I can not imagine what you were thinking when you did such a thing.”

The skipper of Alcofrolic tried to get me off the hook, “In a new country, it is prudent to follow the rules. If he just now cleared entry, it is technically correct that he flies the Q until now.”

“Balderdash. No one does it. There is no reason for him to do it. I know about Turkey. I have been coming here for 12 years and sailing every part of this coast. Gocek is the best.

I know about Texas. I’ve been there several times. Went to see the President, Dubya, on business.”

I bring in the Yellow Q and stow it away.

Phyl is left in the cockpit while I run some errands.

From the cockpit of Worse there is a monologue, sometimes directed toward Perception, sometimes into the space between masts and shrouds.

“Where’s my Joker Boat?”

<Joker Boat is a brand of inflatable boat. It is like calling all inflatables ‘Zodiac’ or all computers IBM. I have worked in places where the computer room was called the IBM Center, even though there was no IBM equipment in the room. In his case, Worse’s dinghy is a Joker Boat. It was tied to the pontoon just to the port of Worse.>

“We are getting a new Joker Boat. The Captain is supposed to have it here. Nothing is ready. Nothing is right. Where is my Joker Boat? Where is my Captain?

I want to go to Gocek!”

Directed at Phyl on Perception:

“Are you going to Gocek? You have to go to Gocek. No other place in Turkey is as nice. I know about Turkey. I have a Turkish wife. I have been coming here for 12 years and sailing every part of this coast. Gocek is the best.”

Phyl explains, “From here we are going north toward Istanbul. But we will be in Turkey all season. We will try Gocek.”

“Don’t go to Port Gocek. That’s the Camper & Nicholson marina. It costs $75 dollars a night. Ridiculous! Town Quay isn’t any good, either. Not expensive. Just not good. The one just to the left of Town Quay. That’s where we go. That’s where you will have to go. That’s where we go.”

“We are going there today. Will you come tomorrow?”

“No,” Phyl explains, “We will be in Marmaris for a week or so and then start north toward Istanbul.”

“You have to go to Gocek. No other place in Turkey is as nice. I know about Turkey. I have a Turkish wife. I have been coming here for 12 years and sailing every part of this coast. Gocek is the best.”

“They are negotiating the price for one of those things up there.”

He point at our Bemini.

Phyl says, “It’s a Bimini.”

“Bemini, awning, sun roof, whatever you call it. My partner, a Turk, and I own this boat. My partner is a Turk. He knows how to deal with these people. My Captain is a Turk. He knows how to deal with these people. We own Bad, too.”

He points at the boat on the other side of the pontoon.

“Where’s my Joker Boat? I want to go to Gocek.”

“My partner and the Captain are trying to get the price down on one of those things. I want to go to Gocek. They ought to just pay it and get on with it. We have to get the ..., eh, that thing, and the Joker Boat before we leave here today.”

Again directed to the space between the masts and shrouds.

“I don’t know why they don’t just pay the price.

I want to go to Gocek.

I am wasting the whole day.

I can’t have a drink until after noon. My wife says that I’m an alcoholic.

I want to go to Gocek.”

I return from my errands. Algenon repeats everything stated above starting with the Q flag and ending with “My wife says that I’m an alcoholic.”

He decides to have a drink. Gin and tonic. “My wife is in Istanbul. She won’t know. It is after noon somewhere.”

A young couple, probably in their late twenties, arrive with a supermarket cart of provisions. They go about stowing food, drink and water. Algenon has a new audience. He repeats it all again. Someway he manages to be in their way every chance he gets. He doesn’t lift a finger to help. He just sits, talks and gets redder of face and spirit.

He tells us for the couple’s benefit, “They like each other a lot. She’s pretty enough. They ought to get married. He makes good money. Just get on with it. He ought to just go ahead and marry the girl.”

During this reiteration, the statement that we are wasting our day gets more emphasis.

“Have you heard? Adrian has cancer. If the papers don’t transfer quick, I’ll lose the boat.”

“My-half-of-the-boat.” <It is one word.>

“I’ve wasted the whole day here waiting while they bargain for a better price on that ..., eh, ‘Thing’.

I’m fed up! Let’s just pay the 650 pounds (about $1025). I’ll go get the money, now”

He calls the captain by mobile phone.

“I’ve wasted the whole day here waiting while you bargain for a better price on that ..., eh, ‘Thing’.

I’m fed up! Let’s just pay the 650 pounds. I’ll go get the money, now. Tell them we will pay their price. I don’t care if you and Adrian think we can do better. I’m fed up. I want to go to Gocek.”

He tells us what a great boat the Beneteau 50 is and that we made a real mistake not buying one. We learn that it sails at 15 knots, is easy to handle. Beneteau 50 is the best boat built today. Elan and the Q flag fall to the same level of disrepute.

I think of another errand to run. Phyl is buried in a book attempting not to hear the ranting. Some one has to wait on our boat to meet the repairmen. I’m happy to be gone.

While I’m gone, he gathers up the troops and off they go to the bank. That ..., eh, thing paid for, he sits there grumbling until about 1600. Then he calls the captain by phone and says, “Get over here. I’m fed up and I want to go to Gocek. NOW!”

Within a few minutes the Captain ambled down the pontoon. He couldn’t have been much further away than the nearest bar. He tied the Joker Boat painter to the stern of Worse. He started the engine, cast off the stern lines, the bow line and off they went. Algenon and the couple sat in the cockpit and didn’t do a thing. The Captain seemed very calm. But, he forgot his shoes. They were left on the pontoon.

It’s about 50 miles from Marmaris to Gocek. Unless that boat really does do 15 knots, they were lucky to get there before 0200.

Some days there is no reason in who your neighbors are.

With some fear and intrepidation, we went to Gocek last week. It is at the north end of Fethiye Korfezi. It is some of the most beautiful and yacht friendly sailing waters imaginable. Many of the coves have seasonal restaurants that provide dock and mooring in return for patronage at their shop. In the afternoon, the ice cream boat comes by. Yea, it’s the nautical equivalent of the popsicle truck. In the morning pancakes are prepared dockside. For swimming, the water is clear and warm. And the winds in the Korfezi are katibatic, 4’s and 5’s near the windward shore and 2’s and 3’s on the lee shore.

Algenon Pukesley was right. I wish he had said it once and then shut up.

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