1982

 August 31st 1982, Ios, Greece

"There were no paths. I just guessed where the beach would be. I slid down the cliff and to my dismay found I was in the wrong place - there was only a small pebble beach and fallen rocks with crumbly, sun-scorched cliffs all around.

Anyway, I decided to make the most of it. I swam and sunbathed, drank my water and read "Hamlet" until - at around one o'clock, I decided to leave the trap I had so willingly put myself in.

In that hot Aegean sun, I struggled upward  but when I was about fifty feet above that inaccessible beach, with unforgiving rocks below, I slid and slipped back about ten feet. Glued to the crumbling, unstable cliff-face, I trembled as a current of fear coursed through me and it was a few minutes before I became calm enough to descend the cliff, ever so slowly. Arriving in the secret cove had been easy enough and I never considered that ascending would be an issue when I decided to leave.

Over the next two hours, I made half a dozen attempts to climb out of the cove via the rocks on each side but found unassailable cliff faces after a while - on both sides. I had my blue day bag with me containing passport, wallet, air ticket etc. so I couldn't have attempted to swim a mile around the headland back to safety even if that had been something other than an entirely desperate idea.

I was more than tired because of my exertions so I found some shade in the lee of a large rock and simply rested for an hour or so trying to regather my strength. I was thirsty but all of my water had been consumed just before I attempted my first aborted ascent.

Around four that afternoon, I tried another route out of there but the same thing happened as before - the rock face crumbling under my hands and feet as I tried to find some purchase. Then I asked myself a question - if a boat passed by out beyond the bay would I signal for help?  The answer was a resounding "Yes" for I was more than a little scared and hyper-aware of my dangerous situation.

Again I rested, conserving energy but no boats came by so I tried yet another route up the cliff - my blue "Fjallraven" bag around my neck - but this effort was like all the rest - useless. If I had fallen I would undoubtedly meet death - either immediately or slowly  through serious injury. It was clear that nobody ever went there.

Where were the boats? Sunset was getting closer. I was starting to think that I would have to spend the night there with the sea and the sun-baked rocks and an empty water bottle. Would this in fact be my last resting place?"

To be continued...



from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/zVDry7s

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