Small waves gently lifted the bow of our yacht. It was moored to the boardwalk, with a small platform extended from the stern to allow passengers on board. The yacht was small, only big enough for 8-9 people plus the Captain, his wife, and their son and daughter. Most chartered yachts in the North Aegean are family operations, and this one was no different.
Summer yacht tours of Aegean islands depart daily from most coastal towns near Ayvalık, Turkey
Most of the yacht tours departing from Cunda or Ayvalık stick to the small islands close to shore. They are a must for anyone visiting the region. An all-day affair, yacht tours typically involve a morning departure, several stops at the small islands and beaches in the region, lunch on the yacht, more swimming, and a late afternoon return to port. Many of the tour providers operate large, high-capacity yachts that play Turkish pop music at deafening levels for swarms of dancing tourists, so even though a private yacht will cost more, it is well worth the added expense.
We chartered our yacht to take us from Cunda to Assos, the location of an ancient Temple of Athena and unparalleled views of the North Aegean. Our group of students and teachers happened to fill the yacht, but smaller groups of travelers often join together to charter private yachts and avoid the chaotic mega yachts that depart daily from Ayvalık, across the bay.
Yacht tours departing from Ayvalık or Cunda can visit islands with ruined Greek monasteries
With the port of Assos over three hours away by boat, our trip would take even longer than normal: a 9:00 AM departure, one or two stops for a quick swim, lunch on the yacht, enough time in Assos for a tour of the ruins, more swimming and then an evening arrival back in Cunda.
The sun was already beaming down on us, but the morning air was still cool and dry. It was quarter to nine, and members of our group were meandering down the boardwalk, toting bags of cantaloupe, Efes beer, snacks, and jugs of water. The Captain had long since loaded his bounty of levrek (Aegean Sea Bass), pilaf rice, fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and fruit. The fertile fields outside Ayvalık are widely known for producing some of the world’s best olive oil, but they also produce some incredible fruits and vegetables. August figs hadn’t ripened yet, but we were fortunate enough to have fresh watermelon, peaches, and sour cherries.
The Captain’s wife served tea and simit to her guests as they boarded the yacht. The small bay between Ayvalık and Cunda usually gets strong northerly winds and waves just large enough to make touring behind the island impossible. If the wind was too strong, chartering north across the Adramyttian Gulf (in Turkish, the Edrimit Körfezi) to Assos would be too dangerous. Fortunately, the morning’s cool air was matched with a light breeze that made the sea pleasant and welcoming. Any doubt about whether we would be able to cruise up to Assos was put at ease by the Captain’s jubilant smile and lively welcomes to the guests.
On calm days, chartered tours departing from Cunda can go into the back bay and visit small islands like this one
After everyone boarded the yacht, the Captain wasted no time and turned the key to start the engine. It struggled at first, choking with the surge of fuel and electricity, but it quickly turned over and began idling patiently. The Captain nodded to his son to remove the rope tying us to the boardwalk. The young boy leaped from the yacht to the boardwalk and unwound the rope from the mooring, jumping back onto the stern as the Captain backed us out of our spot. We cruised along the boardwalk, watching the fishermen return from their early morning outings, and motored right to pass around the island. Cunda is a small, oddly shaped island connected to Ayvalık by a land-bridge. It is full of small beaches and like the mainland, its shores are dotted with tiny islands that rise sharply from the Aegean’s crystal blue waters. Once we passed the northern-most tip of the island, we would be in the open sea with no place to anchor for a swim. With the temperature rising and a lively attitude on the yacht, the Captain pulled into a small cove on the main island and anchored for our first swim.
Take a yacht tour in the North Aegean and you'll swim in water like this
One by one, we jumped off the side of the yacht into the water. Unlike other stops frequented by yachts in the area, the water here was deep and cool, an instant refreshment from the relentless sun. Like everywhere in the Aegean though, the sea was a glistening clear blue. The sun’s rays illuminated everything from the surface to the anemones and crabs that inhabited the rocks and crevasses at the bottom of the cove. The cove was formed by a steep bowl-shaped cliff that was bound by a small pebbled beach to the left and an unpleasant looking pile of rocks to the right. Daring swimmers could swim over to the volcanic-looking rocks and climb them to a narrow path that led to the top of the cliff. Despite the Captain’s assurances that this spot was one of the safest jumps in the area, only two were fearless enough to jump into the waters below. The rest of us donned snorkels and fanned out to explore the rocky underworld along the cliff. It was no tropical cornucopia of sea creatures, but the rocks were scattered with anemones, starfish, crabs, and other critters, and small fish darted between me and the other snorkelers. The Captain’s sun proudly returned from the bottom with an anemone shell and a live crab. The shell might get sold in a market somewhere, but the crab would almost assuredly find its way to a dinner plate later that evening or the next day.
We slowly made our way back to the yacht and laid out our towels on the bow. The Captain started the engine and raised the anchor, motoring out of the cove and into the open sea. The sun was in full force now, heating the white bow of the yacht to unbearable temperatures. The yacht was cruising at top speed, adding its speed to the light breeze that swept across the bay. The Captain’s wife cut a watermelon into small chunks and passed around small bowls to share among the crew. It was blissful.
The hills on the coast to our north were visible in the distance. Lesvos, the Greek island that looms large in every sunset around here, was to our left. The Captain’s daughter played a CD of Turkish pop music through the yacht’s crackly speakers. The floor of the yacht had room for some of the crew to dance, the rest of us spread out across the yacht, breaking into a backgammon game or laying out to read a book. Inside the cabin, an impressive lunch was being prepared on the yacht’s small stove. The Captain’s plan was to pull into Assos and eat lunch on the yacht before heading into town to tour the ruins and mill around in the shops.
After cruising across the bay for some time, the port of Assos was on our horizon. Assos is a small town wrapped completely in the dry, shrubby cliffs that rise up from the sea. It is officially known as Behramkale, but most people, locals included, still refer to the town by its ancient Greek name. The town was formed by settlers from Lesvos around 900 B.C.E. At its peak, Assos was a prosperous city, ruled by Hermias of Atarneus and frequented by Greek philosophers. Aristotle is the most famous visitor, he supposedly lived in Assos from 348-345 B.C.E. The city fell to the Persians shortly after, the first of a series of rulers that saw the city shrink from a prosperous port to a small town. Today, Assos is a charming seaside town, almost completely reliant on tourism.
On a clear day, chartered yachts can take you from Ayvalık to Assos and back
As we cruised closer, the boats and waterfront shops came into focus. A small hamlet (called Iskele) with old stone houses and a covered boardwalk occupied the hospitable land at the water’s edge. Most of the houses were probably mansions of wealthy Ottomans, but today they serve as inns, pensions, and restaurants for visitors to the ruins at the top of the hill.
Caught up in our first views of the town, we nearly forgot about the feast of sea bass, pilaf, salad, and watermelon the Captain’s family prepared. The Captain pulled up to the wharf and backed into an empty spot. His son leaped onto the boardwalk again, this time spinning a rope around one of the round steel moorings that dotted the wharf. Enticing aromas of Mediterranean spices and fish drifted from the cabin, luring us away from the dominating view of the cliffs, the hamlet, and the wide open sea we just crossed.
Plates were served to the crew members, the oldest first, and our exuberant conversations quickly turned into muffled nods of acknowledgment and thanks. The food was simply delectable. Tints of olive oil and coriander ran through the grilled fish and the Captain was obviously proud of his yacht-prepared pilaf rice. In Turkey, the quality of one’s pilaf is seen as benchmark of their culinary skills, and by this measure, the Captain was a gourmet chef. Salads in these parts are simple – chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions, sprinkled with salt, pepper, and a little sumac, and covered in Aegean olive oil. The simplicity allows the flavors of the fresh vegetables to come out and interact with each other, a palatable blend perfectly harmonized by the olive oil and salt. With our mouths watering and hunger put to rest, bowls of watermelon cubes were passed around. The Captain knew otherwise, but to our knowledge, there could not be a better meal served on a small, humble yacht.
With renewed energy, we disembarked for the town. With the midday sun at its peak, the short walk from the wharf to the tea cafes and shops was enough to distract some of our crew. The rest of us chose to take the dolmuş, a small van that provides cheap transit along well-traveled routes like this, to the top of the hill. The dolmuş is an essential component of transit in Turkey but it is often overlooked by first-time tourists or anyone on a guided tour. They are regulated the same way taxis are, and for little more than a bus fare, you can hail a dolmuş down anywhere along its route and disembark anywhere you choose. In places like this, the dolmuş operates more like a shuttle, taking visitors from the seaside hamlet to the ruins and back.
The dolmuş let us off near the entrance to the ruins. Most tourist sites in Turkey charge different rates for Turkish citizens and foreigners, or yabanca, and the Temple of Athena was no different. Some of our crew received the local rate, and one student had a good enough command of his Turkish that he was able to convince the teller that he was a Turk. The rest of us coughed up the extra few liras and moved on.
View of the Temple of Athena at Assos, Turkey
The roads were steep and exhausting. It was clear everything in the town below led upward to the great temple, and even at the entrance, the incline slowed our pace considerably. The rounded cobblestones only added to the difficult walk upward, but the path was clearly well-trodden, evidence of centuries of visitors. After rounding a corner carved into the rock, we got our first view of the ruins. The ruins at Assos do not compare to the magnificent ruins at Ephesus or Pergamon, but they are a marvel nonetheless. Like most ancient sites in the old world, most of the artwork was either pillaged or removed to museums like the Louvre and the British Museum. But the remaining columns, foundation, and other remnants of the Temple are enough to show that it was a majestic place. The foundation to the temple is large and intact, and several of the columns are still standing. At first view, it was easy to imagine a large, open-air temple standing here centuries ago. Capitals scattered the ground and stone structures that were added centuries later complicate the landscape. It was stunning.
"Aristotle's Chair" at the Temple of Athena in Assos, Turkey
Our group spread out, wandering around the hilltop and examining the intricate stone carvings made to honor Athena, goddess of civilization and wisdom. The legacy of philosophy and learning ushered in by Hermias of Atarneus was intact. A large stone chair sat stoically on one edge of the hillside. With a panoramic view of the coastline and the wide-open gulf, the chair is said to be built on one of Aristotle’s favorite perches. It was hard not to be swept up in the mythology of the Greeks and even harder not to be overwhelmed by the ancient pursuit of knowledge and wisdom. The legacy of that pursuit was literacy carved into stone here.
The hilltop ruins of the Temple of Athena offer unparalled views of Lesvos and the Aegean coastline
Behind us, the countryside of Çanakkale province faded into the distance. The step cliffs that rose from the sea and peaked with the temple were the top of a large valley that provided fertile fields for olive groves, sunflowers, and corn. The views were stunning, only rivaled by the views of the coastline and sea. With miles of visibility in each direction, it was easy to see why the site was chosen for a temple. The length of our journey began to set in. We just sailed across the sea.
With tired legs, we began our trek down the hill, opting to walk though the village rather than take the dolmuş. The streets were filled with vendors. Blankets rolled out and covered with the latest handmade jewelery, racks with postcards and travel guides, and little shops full of imported miniatures of the temple and other ruins in the region. Children scattered the street selling tissue packs and bottled water and restaurant proprietors aggressively invited us in for everything from fish to donairs. After an ur journey down the hill was a pleasant one, a whirlwind through one of the North Aegean’s many coastal towns.
Back on the yacht, the Captain and his family sat amicably around the small patio table next to the steering wheel. His son lowered the platform and let us board, one by one we piled back onto the vessel, ready for the trip home. The Captain turned on the engine and began motoring out of the harbor. Eager to rest our legs, we all took to seats at the patio table, or along the cushions inside the yacht. Music was played on the yacht’s speakers again, but after a long day of touring and swimming, our crew was less energetic. Most of us were content with backgammon or cards, or with the pleasant conversation that seemed to fade in and out of existence. Nescafe, an afternoon favorite in Turkey, was served and the Efes beers that spent the entire day on ice in the cabin made their way out. We were in the open sea now, the island of Lesvos was to our right and the coast of Balıkisir province was looming in the south.
Slowly but surely, the island of Cunda rose in front of us. The northernmost tip of Cunda sticks quite far into the Adramyttian Gulf, and the large hill in the center of the island hid the bustling town of Ayvalık from our view. But before long, we were among the scattered islands and giant yachts we left earlier that morning. The Captain motored us around the island and into the bay between Cunda and Ayvalık. After pausing in the bay or a moment to allow the ferry to pass, the Captain motored along the boardwalk and backed the yacht into his mooring. As was the routine now, his son jumped onto the boardwalk and tied us up, officially ending our day in paradise.
Finish your tour and come back to the mainland for one of the North Aegean's famous sunsets
The platform was lowered from the yacht and our crew began to disembark. We meandered onto the boardwalk, profusely thanking the Captain and his family and promising them a visit for afternoon tea soon. The effects of an entire day in the sun were setting in. My skin was still salty from the morning’s swim and my nose was dry and reddening. At that moment, it did not matter. The eyes of our crew members said it all. It had been a once-in-a-lifetime journey, the perfect combination of light seas, a willing and able captain, and delightful family and crew, and a visit to one of the North Aegean’s best kept secrets. As we parted ways, it became clear that the unforgiving daytime sky was turning into yet another one of the Aegean’s fabled sunsets, the perfect end to an unforgettable yacht tour of the North Aegean.
