The strange, almost haunting noise that reverberates periodically, day or night, through Kamini valley has apparently had locals perplexed for the past couple of years—a sound so unlike the familiar braying donkeys, crowing roosters, yapping dogs, and yowling cats that it has caused many to wonder as to its source.

I was sitting on our terrace recently with a local mate, Pavlos, over morning coffee when it happened again.

It’s a din difficult to describe, perhaps like some deep-based, demented didgeridoo or a beast from a foreign jungle, but certainly not like anything native to our island.

“What is that?” he asked.

“You don’t know?” I answered, surprised that he didn’t as locals know just about everything that occurs in our little valley. “My dear fellow, it’s the call of a horny ostrich.”

In a field behind Sotiris’s mansion situated at the back of our gorge is a small flock of these enormous, flightless African birds. Some people keep canaries, others parrots, but Sotiris’s pets are a little more exotic.

“The male ostrich is an enthusiastic courter and announces his desire vocally enough for all to hear,” I explained.

Pavlos chuckled. “Well, that solves a mystery many of us have been wondering about for years.”

The fires are out, but the debate continues…

SHAME …

It was our plan to present things in humorous light, articles that would show the lighter side of life on our little Rock. But there is nothing funny about this: in fact, even any humor in the initial rhubarb in which conspiracy theorists claimed that one of the contestants in the ongoing mayoral dispute of 2006/2007 was to blame has paled with the smoke-screened sun.

Yes, our duelling “mayors” were in Athens in court on July 25 (our future-former-post-almost mayors), and the rumor that one of their “henchmen” had deliberately set the Mandraki dump alight in order to embarrass the other is now yesterday’s bad joke.

Our poor island has never seen the likes of this fire: neither the great fire of ’85 in which three brave volunteers died nor the three-day blaze in ’87 subdued Hydra like this.

It’s akin to a war zone. Helicopters, fire planes, and the navy have shown unbelievable skill and courage in fighting this blaze from dawn till dusk for two days now.

Our headline could have been anything from “Fire Fight for Survival” to “Brave Pilots Fly Every Daylight Hour to Save the Town.” But we have simply called this one “Shame.” Shame, because this should not have happened, and it’s about time we stood up and said so.

It could well be diplomatically correct to point out that with literally hundreds of wildfires raging across the country as a direct result of record-breaking heat wave temperatures, this was an inevitable result and yet further proof that this global warming stuff is for real. But the truth is that our island is on fire because of a simple lack of foresight, which is a polite way of saying stupidity.

It’s not like we didn’t have fair warning or time to plan for this disaster, as both previous serious fires started at the garbage dump, and already this summer two minor fires were extinguished in the same location.

So why shame? We are not experts in municipal economics, but it doesn’t take much logic to understand that the cost of the capsized and unsuccessful Miaoulis fireworks boat could have saved us from this.

How? A pump and/or small reservoir at the “skoopethia” landfill could have stopped the fire in its tracks long before it spread. Now, our beautiful isle looks like it has been blitzed. In a way it has, and the cost cannot be tallied in terms of cash loss.

Why does it always take a disaster to make folks shout for what is right? In their efforts to gain favour with the popular vote, our “authorities” have advocated such wonderful schemes as paving and illuminating a road to Vlichos, spending thousands on the placement of pretty little benches and other artistic paraphernalia to enhance Hydra’s unique landscape. Grand ideas to be sure, but shouldn’t somebody have reserved just a few coins for the unattractive but practical project of ensuring that the repetitive source of fire could be combated before it became an island emergency?

It is too easy with hindsight to point fingers and lay blame, but come on chaps …

One would assume that now, maybe, something will be done to prevent such a catastrophe from occurring in future. But then, we said that in ’85, and again in’87, and heard it murmured about after several small-fire near misses subsequently.

In closing … absolute kudos to and admiration for the firefighting pilots and volunteers who have fought so desperately to save our island from total incineration.

Perhaps now, with Mr. Anastopoulos’s uncontested reinstatement as mayor, we can focus on serious matters.

David and Jennifer took the following pictures of the fire’s aftermath
during a boat trip around the island.

An entire valley destroyed on the back of Hydra Island

The new forest destroyed

Beautiful Limonitze bay blackened

More evidence of devastation on the back of the island

Fire devastation down to the water’s edge

A coastal chaple saved

A coastal home destroyed

Thanks to Jan McGiffin for sharing her photos from the days of the fires and from a hike to Episcopi showing the aftermath.

Turkish Fleet Sinks before the Engagement

Within minutes of news getting out of the pyrotechnic flagship’s keeling over on June 23, 2007, a number of conspiracy theories erupted:

• There was an altercation with a speeding water taxi.
• An unexpected and isolated squall caused the “main event” to capsize.
• The ex/current/former/future mayor sent a secret underwater demolition squad to scuttle the boat.
• The ex/current/former/future mayor had an oar in its sinking in order to frame the ex/current/former/future mayor.
• The boat purchased was so rotten with woodworm that even the fisherman who sold it was surprised to see it float in the first place.
• The Militant Albanian Liberation Army, in coalition with the Kamini Anarchists (MALA/KA), had infiltrated the pyrotechnic preparations, upsetting the ballast and ensuring the flagship would turn turtle (motives remain mysterious).
• And then … there’s the CIA

Of course, a skeptical few believed it was simply an unfortunate accident.

The Show Must Go On

All joking aside, organizers and Hydriotes are to be commended for producing a spectacular show and fireworks display for Hydra’s major annual festival in the face of such adversity. Bravo!

Recently, I was sitting with a mate in Xristina’s taverna, one of our four summertime Kamini dining establishments (in winter it’s down to one), when a pair of middle-aged couples wandered into the local and sat down. I recognized the one of the gents; he had a familiar, friendly face, and I felt I had known him for years. (Out of context, whether socially or not in their shops, it is often difficult to place locals’ faces).

So, I nodded, smiled, and doffed my hat. He smiled and nodded back. My friend, a swarthy local builder, Pavlos, was grinning.“Do you know who that is?” he asked.

“No,” I said innocently. “I know him, though. Does he have a house or gold shop here”?

“Oxi,” laughed Pavlos. “That is Kosta Simitis, our last prime minister.”

Ah, yes, the man who managed to get Greece on the euro in time, amongst a host of other legacies the country now enjoys.