 Sure, Karel, I made this video for you guys, thanks for not wrecking this 200k sailing yacht and thanks for getting us out of a 40 knot storm. And for everybody else watching, this is a story on how anchoring at the rogue place got us in a heap of trouble, but especially how we got out. But let's start at the beginning. This is Karel, he's been sailing for 25 years and he's been sailing big boats for 6. He's also done competitive sailing for 2 years and he has all his certificates. Long story short, this guy knows how to sail and he is our captain. Sure's has been sailing small boats for 26 years. Sure's knows all the sailing fundamentals. And finally, this is me. My name is Marc and I can brew a very decent cup of coffee. We flew to Greece because we rented a lovely yacht there for a week. She's called Derania and she's an absolute beauty. The only thing Karel would change on this Oceanus 38.1 is put some racing sails up on her. The first few days we really got to know her and we got to know sailing in Greece. Sailing here is radically different compared to the Netherlands. Anchoring, mooring lines, anchoring on stern on dock, we don't do that often in the Netherlands. And because of that, we don't use our dinghy that much either. The dinghy is a kid's toy in the Netherlands. In Greece it became my toy. What you see here is a very proud captain of his dinghy. We did what everybody does when sailing here. We hopped islands. From Monastery Island to Poros and from Poros to Hydra. We visited villages, hiked up mountains and Karel got off a plastic net from our propeller when we picked it up in the open sea. I made us coffee and I made us dinner and Sure's supported Karel on the boat and made us breakfast every morning while I was practicing my sailing knots. While the predictions were calm for the first few days, we were really looking forward to Thursday and Friday. Wind would pick up and we would do some real sailing. After spending the morning in Hydra we decided to head to the bay for shelter for a rough night ahead. We would have 30 to 35 knots of wind from the north and we found a nice bay that would keep us safe. I took two shorelines and tightened to solid rock with the knots I had been practicing for the last few weeks. We anchored with 50 meters of chain and we checked the anchor and the knots. We were proud of the work we had done and excited for the night ahead. We rode to the shore, hiked up the island to get some self-service and we called our better halves and kids. We felt completely ready for the night. Boy were we wrong. I woke up around 10pm because my cabin kept lighting up. There was a thunderstorm on the horizon and this was not predicted. The wind had gone completely silent. It's far away was Karel's reaction and I got back to sleep but woke up again 30 minutes later. This time Karel was fully closed and the shores were standing next to him. The predicted wind was there but there was something terribly wrong. It wasn't coming from the north, it was coming from the east and our boat was acting like a giant seal. Wind speed kept going up. 18 knots became 21 knots and 21 knots became 27. We kept monitoring the shore as Karel was feeling it was coming closer and closer and Karel was right. Our top rope was tied as a viling string. When I retracted the bottom line I picked up 15 meters of rope. We turned on the engine to put tension on both lines. If this worked we would run the engine the entire night and sail out in the morning. But the engine had nothing on this wind and we weren't moving an inch. There was only one thing we could do. We needed to cut the rope. We put on our sailing gear and life jackets, made a plan and got to work. There was so much tension on the rope that it snapped when I touched it with the knife. The engine roared, our anchor caught us and it was holding. The blood moon lit up the scene. The boat was now playing thing of the wind but she became much calmer as a result. If it stayed like this we might make it through to the morning. We decided to take turns monitoring the situation. I was first to get some shut-eye and Shor's was next but he hardly got any sleep when I had to wake him up. The wind kept swelling and we had surpassed 14 knots and the anchor was no longer holding us. Shor's hold the anchor as Kyle steered us out of the bay. We were now in open sea. We decided we needed to get back to the safe harbor of Poros so we plot our course. The engine was hardly able to move us as we crashed into the 3 meter waves on the open sea. We had so little speed that we hardly had any control of the boat. The only thing we could do was add sail and gain some speed and thus control of the boat. A sailing boat is meant for sailing and as we put up the sails we started to get a handle on things. It took us 3 hours to motor sail the 9 kilometers to Poros. We dropped anchor, ate something and got back to bed. This day wasn't done yet because in this wind we would never make it to Athens in time. We slept for 3 hours and plowed on to a Gina. It only took us 4 hours to cross the 26k to the island this time. And when you've been having 14 knots of wind the entire morning, 13 knots is smooth sailing. The next day we got the same winds. We flew across the water and loved doing it. When we anchored in Athens, Kyle was complimented by the locals on his excellent sailing. His response was simple. The great sailor wouldn't have been there in the first place. But we were also unlucky. The bay we selected is known to act as a wind funnel under northern winds and they hadn't seen wind speeds like this in a very long time. Three Dutch guys used to only flat lands learned a very valuable lesson. Wind bay very differently on hilly islands and if wind finder tells you it's 30-35 knots of wind you better anchor in a safe harbor. Shors, Karel, I cannot thank you enough for your hard work and calculated thinking when things got rough. If I ever get into a tight squeeze like this again, I would want to be there with you guys. Thanks.