Blue and White and Bottomless: Our Day in Santorini Greece

Some ports you sail into and just know you're somewhere special before the anchor even drops. Santorini is one of them. Rounding into the caldera, watching the ship glide past those dark volcanic cliffs with whitewashed villages spilling down the rim like sugar poured over stone, my wife and I stood at the rail taking it all in. Photos never quite capture it. You have to see the scale in person, the ship small and toy-like against the height of those cliffs, to understand why this island has been photographed a million times and still manages to surprise you.

Picked Up in the Village Below

Our day started on the water, not up in the clifftop towns. A tender took us down to the small harbor village tucked right at the base of the cliffs, and that's where Makis and his fishing charter picked us up for the day. It's a quiet little spot, blue chairs and tables set along the waterfront, boats bobbing in a tiny marina, donkeys resting in the shade nearby. Worlds away from the crowds up top, and the perfect place to start a morning on the water.

Trolling Between the Islands

From there, Makis took us out trolling between the small islands that ring the caldera, working the deep blue water beneath the same volcanic cliffs we'd just been admiring from the ship's rail. He runs a tight, welcoming boat, and it wasn't long before rods were bending. My wife and I both hooked fish, hers coming up bright and shining in the sun, and there's nothing quite like the sound of Makis's laugh when someone lands a good catch. It's genuine, easy, the kind of hospitality that can't be manufactured.

Out Into the Open Aegean

At one point, Makis pointed the bow away from the shelter of the islands and out into the open Aegean, and the ride changed fast. The calm, glassy water we'd been trolling in gave way to real swells, the boat rising and dropping with each one, spray coming up over the bow. It was a different kind of thrill, a reminder that just beyond the postcard calm of the caldera, the open sea is still the open sea. We held on, laughed a lot, and came back through the swells with a healthy respect for the water Makis navigates every day.

A Toast and Lunch on the Deck

Makis eventually brought us into a quiet, sheltered cove where the water turned an impossible shade of turquoise, clear enough to see straight to the bottom, and that's where lunch happened: fresh fish grilled right there on the back of the boat, warm bread, and a simple Greek salad, all served family-style while the boat rocked gently at anchor, the view stretching clear across the harbor to the cliffs of Fira rising in the distance. It was unpretentious and perfect, the kind of meal that tastes better for where you're eating it.

Once the plates were served, Makis broke out the toast. He had his own way of doing it, insisting on a proper Greek toast that meant linking arms with your glass before you could drink. When my wife looked at him like he was crazy, he just grinned and said every good Greek man with a beautiful woman on his boat does a toast like that. We laughed, went along with it, and it's one of those small, ridiculous moments that ended up being one of our favorite memories of the whole day.

Back to the Village, Then Up the Switchback

Makis brought us back into the same small harbor village where the day began, and from there it was time to head up to Fira. Getting from the water up to town means climbing nearly a thousand feet up a zigzagging switchback path carved into the cliffside. You can walk it, ride the cable car, or do it the old-fashioned way, on the back of a donkey, plodding up the same stone steps travelers have used for centuries. We watched strings of them make their way up and down, patient and sure-footed, while tourists posed for photos, and it added a nice bit of authenticity to the whole scene. This wasn't a paved road built for convenience. It was a real, working path, and the donkeys, mules, and the people who tend them are as much a part of Santorini as the blue domes and the caldera views.

Getting Lost in Fira

At the top, the town opens up into a maze of narrow whitewashed lanes, cave houses built into the cliffside, and endless little shops selling everything from handmade jewelry to bottles of local wine. We wandered without much of a plan, letting the streets pull us past overlooks where the caldera kept reappearing between buildings, each view somehow better than the last. Every turn seemed to reveal another perfect postcard shot, the deep blue water far below, the ship anchored offshore, a wash of white and blue stretching along the ridge in every direction.

The Fish Spa Detour

Somewhere along the way, we passed one of Santorini's fish spas and stopped to watch, even though we skipped the treatment ourselves. Tourists sat at the edge of the tank, feet dangling in, while a swarm of tiny fish nibbled away at their skin. The reactions were priceless, yelps, giggling, a few people white-knuckling the edge of their seats, and we stood there laughing hysterically at the whole spectacle. We didn't need to get in the tank ourselves to get the entertainment value out of it. Santorini has plenty of grand history and postcard views, but it's these small, offbeat moments that end up being just as memorable.

A Day Worth Sailing For

By the time we made our way back to the ship, sunburned and salt-sprayed and thoroughly happy, we understood why Santorini earns its reputation as one of the most photographed islands in the world. But the postcard views were only half of it. The other half was Makis, his boat, and a morning on the water that no guidebook could have arranged.

For my wife and me, this is the day that became the inspiration behind the Santorini chapters of Beneath Mediterranean Skies, and the leg of Lance and Olivia's journey that follows the caldera, the cliffside villages, and a boat very much like Makis's own. Look for it on Amazon starting October 1st.