Birthday, Boats and Beaches. Sound Familiar?

Today is my birthday, and naturally, I’m in Greece—there’s no better place to spend it. Not that I really celebrate anymore; it’s just another day, a gentle reminder that life is short, which only fuels my desire to squeeze every last drop of travel energy from it.

I’ve now been on the beautiful island of Oinousses for five days (how time flies). To mark the occasion, I treated myself to a boat ride around the small archipelago to the southwest—an area I’d only glimpsed from a hilltop earlier in the week. That brief view ignited a burning desire to see the islets up close.

Yesterday, I messaged my host, Despoina, via WhatsApp to ask if she knew anyone who could take me. Her husband, Captain Margaritis, who often acts as translator, replied within the hour with the news I’d hoped for: a local fisherman was available. I just needed to name a time. I chose 10 a.m., and was told to visit their shop in the morning to be directed to the boat.

This morning, I picked up a slice of bougatsa for breakfast and some chocolate-dipped kourabiedes to share with my guide. I also stopped by the mini market for water—always a hangout for the neighbourhood cats.

Outside the shop, I bumped into Despoina. We exchanged “Kalimera”s and communicated mostly through gestures, as usual. She explained that Captain Margaritis was at their other shop—”Kato! Kato! Kato!” she said with a wave toward the harbour. That, I understood.

At the bottom of a long staircase, I found the shop. Captain Margaritis greeted me with a warm “Happy Birthday” and called the fisherman, who would be arriving shortly. He pointed out the boat through a gap in the buildings—one of the larger caiques moored nearby. He warned me the fisherman didn’t speak much English, but that’s never been a problem. A smile, body language, and a few Greek words go a long way.

Soon, a little car pulled up and a man pointed at me, then the boat. I nodded. He boarded, started the engine, and helped me aboard with a short hop. We exchanged names—he is Gregos.

Once seated, he gestured in several directions and shrugged. I gathered he was asking where I’d like to go. “Micro nisia,” I replied, pointing toward the cluster of islets. And off we went.

We hugged the coastline, passing secluded coves and the pebbled Agios Ioannis beach. Then we entered a wide bay, where I spotted a hamlet and windmill I recognised from a map. Soon the first islet appeared, startling a group of cormorants who flapped noisily across the water before taking flight. The gulls nearby barely moved, disdainfully basking in the sun.

The sea was a kaleidoscope—inky blue, turquoise, cobalt, and azure. We passed close to Gaidouronisi, a fish farm, and another fisherman heading in the opposite direction. A wave was exchanged between the two.

As we passed Vataki and Vatos, Pasas island loomed ahead. I’d been told it was a military zone, and indeed I could see buildings on its summit and a giant Greek flag painted on the hillside, asserting its sovereignty just across from Turkey. (No photos, of course.)

Gregos steered us between Pontikonisi and Archontiko, toward a beach near Disakiospito. The colours were stunning. At Aspalathrokampos, we saw an elderly man fishing alone. Moments later, he slipped on the rocks. Gregos cut the engine and called out. The man, though shaken, got to his feet. Gregos waited offshore until another man arrived to assist him. All was well.

I’d read that Oinoussiots were tough and pragmatic people who liked to keep to themselves. However, if anyone were ever in need, they would all be there to help. This felt like a quiet affirmation of that spirit.

Our next destination is to the iconic mermaid statue next to Nisidi Panteleimona. I managed to take a rather snatched photograph of her on my way in. It was pure chance that I’d spotted her as we arrived into the port.

Seagulls scattered as we approached – she’s another good sun trap for the birds. The statue is far more beautiful up close. What a perfect welcome to visitors as they approach Oinousses by boat.

The caique scooted behind the next islet of Pateroniso – Island of the Pateros family – though the house on it looks as though it has fallen into a state of disrepair.

Next, we headed toward the iconic mermaid statue near Nisidi Panteleimona. I’d glimpsed her on my arrival—sun-drenched and striking. Seagulls scattered as we neared, but the statue remained serene. She’s even more beautiful up close.

We passed Pateroniso, home to the Pateros family, though its house seems abandoned now. Then I spotted a church and asked if it was Agios Spiridon. Gregos confirmed with a nod. Before reaching it, we cruised past Kakopetria beach—surprisingly busy with five people! One man swam out to us. Gregos smiled and said, “Brother,” gesturing to his ring finger (brother in law!). “Photo, photo!” he encouraged. I took a quick snap, though not the best angle.

Gregos asked if I’d like to swim. I politely declined—another day, maybe.

We continued along the coast, passing beaches I hadn’t had the energy to walk to. Near Kastro, Gregos pointed to the cliffs: goats were perched on impossibly narrow ledges, gazing down at us. How do they do it?

Apeganos Beach, with Agios Spiridon above it, was one of the most scenic yet—sandier than others I’d seen, with natural beauty preserved except for matching parasols and occasional loungers.

We passed a striking white villa. Gregos said it belonged to the Lemos family. Around the bend was another villa with its own church and bell tower—another Lemos brother, apparently. Prime locations on either side of the island’s finest beach.

Gregos stayed on the sheltered side of the island; waters to the east are reportedly rough. From the boat, I saw a white building I’d noticed during a walk—initially thought to be the monastery. But rounding a final bay, the real Monastery of Evangelismos came into view, perched proudly beneath a marble cross. Built in 1962 in Byzantine style, it was funded by wealthy locals.

Gregos cut the motor, and we sat in peaceful silence. No words needed.

There is a beach below with a small building and a cluster of tamarisk trees. I wondered if we may catch sight of a nun taking the waters.

Well I have now seen the monastery albeit from afar. I still have it in my mind that I will visit it before I go but let’s see. I’m not going to put pressure on myself.

Gregos guided the caique slowly back to the port. The best view of Chora appeared, with St. Nicholas Church standing tall above the village. My apartment beside it makes orientation easy—even for me.

Back on land, I thanked Gregos for the memorable trip and bade him farewell. What a fantastic day!

I couldn’t help but cast my mind forward to the next part of my trip in a few days. The ferry schedules had changed several times over the last few months. The most recent update showed that to get to Psara I would have to go to Chios first and then catch another ferry later that day to Psara. A small alarm bell had rung in my head. Ever since the Oinoussai III returned from Chios last night, she had remained moored up with no signs of life. This was unusual because this little boat seemed to always be on the move.

I called in at the ticket office where the lady confirmed that the Oinoussai iii had now finished for the season. However, the Psara Glory would take over and she will go directly to Psara. Anyway, the change in schedules meant that I would need t stay an extra night on Oinousses. Thankfully Despoina confirmed that it was fine to keep the apartment for another night.

The next thing I need to do is contact my host on Psara. I messaged Diana and asked if I could shufty my stay up by one day. This was the message that I get back.

I wasn’t sure if this meant that there is a fishing boat that leaves at 6 o’clock in the morning or that there is a fishing boat that would take 6 hours to get to Chios. Anyway, I wasn’tgoing to worry about that for now. Getting there will be the main thing. I have no fixed itinerary.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at Kathisma Beach, just the other side of the harbour wall.

As I walked back up to hill to the apartment, I saw the Oinoussai iii lying dormant. Captain Margaritis told me later that she was going into dry dock for the winter.

headed to To Palio Teloneio for dinner—my first time there. At first, it looked closed, but the owner waved me in. A few others arrived, and I was glad to see they offered gyros too.

With the help of Google Translate and some guesswork, I ordered Caesar salad, Mastelo cheese, and local sausage with white wine. The food was excellent—well-cooked, generous, and fairly priced. I’ll definitely return to try the seafood.

Later, I checked Google Maps Timeline. The GPS wasn’t precise, but it confirmed what I already felt—we’d covered a lot of ground today.

After a few video calls with family, I climbed the steps back to the apartment. Halfway up, I heard the Oinoussai’s horn. It sounded almost melancholic. I opened the Marine Traffic app—she was en route to Perama.

Later that evening I headed to To Palio Teloneio for dinner—my first time there. At first, it looked closed, but the owner waved me in. A few others arrived, and I was glad to see they offered gyros too.

With the help of Google Translate and some guesswork, I ordered Caesar salad, Mastelo cheese, and local sausage with white wine. The food was excellent—well-cooked, generous, and fairly priced.

After a few video calls with family, I climbed the steps back to the apartment. Halfway up, I heard the Oinoussai’s horn. It sounded almost melancholic. I opened the Marine Traffic app—she was en route to Perama where she’d spend the winter.

I’m glad to have made the acquaintance of another unique little boat.