We are in Koronisia, the lilliputian fishing village. The place is hardly different from an island, the sea seems to surround us from all sides. If we wanted to get here about half a century ago, we would have needed a boat. Because Koronisia was a small island in the heart of Amvrakikos, with all the disadvantages and peculiarities of an island. Its original name, in fact, was Korakonisia, probably after the crows or black-bellied cormorants, which, because of the rich fish supplies, abound in the area.
FIRST HOURS IN KORONISIA
–Do you prefer to sit inside or on the balcony? Georgia Patenda asks us.
–The weather here is like summer, we reply.
So we prefer the table at the little rooftop.
End of March. The midday sun is pleasantly warm. With its rays it erases from our memory the temperature of 2 degrees and the alpine images with plenty of snow, which we had seen just an hour and a half before in the highlands of Metsovo. We are in Koronisia. The Lilliputian fishing village. The place is hardly different from an island, the sea seems to surround us on all sides. If we wanted to get here, about half a century ago, we would have needed a boat. Koronisia was a small island in the heart of Amvrakikos, with all the disadvantages and peculiarities of an island. Its original name, in fact, was Korakonisia, probably after the crows or the black-bellied cormorants that, because of the rich fish food, abound in the area.
So there, around the end of the 1950s, the island slowly began to approach the coast of Salaora, the nearest land. The way was clever and simple. An ally in the work was the soft seabed and the usually calm and shallow waters. After all, the know-how had been known for a long time, from the construction of wooden ‘dyke’ dams, i.e. the enclosed sea areas where the fish grew. Measure by measure, this strange strait in the sea, the “ramp of connection” Koronisia – Salaira began to be created. It was narrow and unstable at first the path was narrow and unstable, but as it went on it became wider and more solid. Using mud from the Logarou Lagoon and hard limestone from the Salara hill, the blocking was completed around the early 1970s. Then MOMA took over the asphalt paving. Since then, 4.7 km of good, mostly straight roads have connected the fishing port of Koronisia with the coast of Salaora.
After the long journey of 370 km we relax at the outdoor tables of the tavern. It is located in a privileged spot of view and tranquility at the edge of the settlement. Its official name is “Mirtaria“, but who knows it like that? Everyone knows the fish tavern of “Patenda“. With absolute consistency and high professionalism, the amiable barpa – Panos has made his name well-known over the last 30 years and synonymous with quality and taste. This taste is so special, which can only be found in the fresh fish of Amvrakikos.
Many times in recent years our steps have brought us to the Amvrakikos region for multi-day wanderings and corresponding specials in Rhodauggi Arta and the Rodia Lagoon, Preveza, Ancient Nikopolis and Lake Zirou (issues 37, 38, 41, 45, 56). It is impossible to erase from our memories the tasty experiences of the half-opened and grilled mullet, the famous ‘petali’, or the delicious sardines, sea bream and shrimps, cuttlefish, sole and goby. Yes, those humble but so delicious govious, a fish that has disappeared and been ignored by the fish taverns of Greece but is so much appreciated by the fishermen in the Amvrakikos region. So the experienced Panos could not fail to put on the huge platter, next to the pike perch and sole, squid and shrimps, some dry-fried, freshly baked govious. We are amazed at the variety and quantity on the platter, a platter that is intended for only two people.
–Who’s going to eat all those fish? You brought all the fishing diversity in the bay.
–Tomorrow you will taste sea bream, sea bass, head and cuttlefish. So to enrich your range of taste experiences.
IN THE LAGOON “SAKOLETSI”
The waters of Amvrakikos are golden in the afternoon rays, playing in the light breeze and then ripping with quiet ripples on the sandy shoreline. In the distance, in the direction of the horizon, we gaze at the hills that hide Preveza and the mouth of Aktio, while on the left, the mountains of Lefkada turn grey. Directly in front of us, the afternoon sorokaki shakes the foliage of young eucalyptus, olive and lemon trees. Immediately afterwards a narrow long water surface glistens dazzlingly. It is the mouth that connects the lagoon “Sakoletsi” with the waters of the Amvrakikos. A low, grassy tongue of land inserts like a breakwater between the lagoon and the bay, ensuring calmness in Sakoletsi.
–Maybe you need some rest, says the daughter of Uncle Pan, Georgia.
–On the contrary, after a delicious meal, we need a gentle walk.
–Then, I can escort you around the Sakoletsi Lagoon.
A few tens of meters after the tavern, the asphalt road crosses the last houses of the village and then becomes a good dirt road through olive trees and trees. It then turns into a narrow strip of land, crosses the uncontaminated water and turns right towards “Pethmeno“, a lush little island named after the village cemeteries. But let’s let Aristides Schismenos‘s brilliant pen describe the area of Sakoletsiou for a moment:
“It is a small lagoon of stunning beauty, spreading its turquoise body in the triple embrace of the islands of Koronisia, Peranissi and Petamenos. It is one of the most picturesque areas of Amvrakikos as the rich flora of all three islands reaches the edges of the lagoon, giving the feeling that the dense bushes grow through the waters, creating a congenial composition of deep green and blue-green shades… The calm in the lagoon is an almost permanent phenomenon, since the bodies of the three islands effectively protect the lagoon waters. Around the perimeter, between the three islands, there are small islets with many shells, which are the pure creation of the perpetual winds and marine effects. For the Coronesians, Sakoletsi is their nearby sea garden and their lives are closely intertwined with the historical route of the lagoon. It is their quick and easy refuge, for as soon as they reach out their hand, they will catch fish for their immediate needs“.
Just after the islet of Petathmenos, the dirt road ends in front of a lonely, dry olive tree. Next to it, the iconostasis of St. Nicholas, one new and one old, stand their humble stance. A few metres away, the vast surface of the Amvrakikos begins. The distance from Patenda’s tavern barely reaches 1600 meters here. We leave the car and start the narrow bathing path on foot. Shoal and wood, dirt and stones, this must be what the original road connecting Koronisia with Salora looked like. A few minutes later we reach the coast of Peranissi. Its ground is covered with schistos and bushy cypresses, so dense that they create a deep green mass of solid and impenetrable vegetation.
–Once upon a time when the Koronesians used to graze the animals on the island, the paths were kept open, says Georgia. Today, from years of disuse, they are closed.
We see this immediately, as we attempt to cross the long island in the direction of Koronisia. In a small grassy clearing we find a narrow path, which after a few metres disappears into dense, literally impassable rocks. But the same is not true of the south-southwest coastline of the Peranissi. Here the walk is wonderful, a leisurely stroll on a sandy beach and countless shells of all shapes and sizes, accumulated by the force of the waves over the centuries.
The salmon has gotten a little stronger and is caressing us coolly. A sweet flurry of small, rushing waves constantly accompanies us. At some point we pass in front of a strange hollow building, standing half-hanging at least 4 meters high next to the shore. It is impossible to explain its origin or use, until the evening when Panagiotis Patendas solves our question. It is what remains of an old lime kiln.
We sit for a few minutes on the piles of shells, gazing one to two miles across from us at the overgrown small islands of Koronisia that are spread out in a row. Across the bay, still encircled by winter, the snow-capped Akarnanian and Agraphiotic mountains beckon us.
Relaxed and completely refreshed by the cool breath of Amvrakikos, we slowly return to the iconostasis and the lonely olive tree of the coast.
A SHORT TOUR OF THE VILLAGE
On a low hill, behind Patenda’s tavern, dominates the “Koulia”, a circular turreted outpost – watchtower, built in 1860 by the Turks. Built with hewn stone, the structure has been entirely reconstructed and retains its architectural features unchanged. After Koulia we find the small community olive grove with century-old olive trees. Around the olive grove there are houses with well-kept yards and the necessary presence of lemon trees.
Very quickly the road leads us to the NW end of the hill. Here overlooking the vastness of the bay is the oldest monastery of the Amvrakikos Gulf, the Monastery of Genesis of the Virgin of “Coraconia“. In old documents the place was referred to as “Korakonisi”, while since the 19thth century it has been called, more literally, Koronisia. According to Stavros Mamaloukos (1), the time of the foundation of the monastery is not known. The earliest mention of the monastery is in the year 1193. The monastery flourished during the period of Turkish rule, when it acquired great wealth and fame. Fishermen’s families settled around the monastery, which after the mid-19thth century gradually created the present village. The monastery was probably dissolved in the first decades of the 20thth century, and its catholic church has been used as the village’s parish church ever since.
According to the architect – restorer Stavros Mamaloukos, the catholic of the monastery, built in the late 10thth century, is one of the most important Byzantine monuments of Epirus. The small-sized church belongs to the rare type of semi-cross-shaped churches with an original narthex and dome. The interior is decorated with frescoes of moderate art from the 17thth century and an interesting wooden carved iconostasis from the mid-19thth century. To the north of the church rises the ‘perforated-wall’ bell tower of the 19thth, probably, century. To the south of the church and in contact with it is the ruined building of the monastery’s mill. Two millstones are still preserved in its grassy interior.
About 30 meters SE of the katholikon is another monument, the chapel of Agios Onoufrios. It is a one-room dome-roofed church of the times of the Despotate of Epirus, with frescoes of the 17thth century. In the courtyard of the catholic of the monastery, among the greens, there is a large marble column base. A few metres below the plateau where the church is located there is a magnificent stone well, from which the village was once watered.
For a few minutes we stroll along the alleys of the settlement. It is quiet, with little traffic and noise, an almost family-like settlement. A common feature of almost all the houses is the courtyards, most of which have lemon trees.
From the mainland we descend to sea level. Here there are no narrow streets but simple streets and well-kept squares, where all the commercial and tourist traffic of the place with taverns, cafes and bars is concentrated. In the evening light we stroll slowly and enjoyably along the waterfront, around the beautiful fishing harbour. Then we sit in a beach café, gazing out over the waters of the bay at the end of the day. It’s a good time for a cup of coffee.
IN THE LOGAROU LAGOON
The strip of about 5 kilometres that connects Koronisia with the coast of Salaora is more than just a simple road connecting the small island to the mainland. Almost along its entire length it reveals a sequence of stunning landscapes and images, created by the grassy islets, the small canals in between, the small lagoons where fish live and grow. In this vast ‘fish habitat’ and wetland, the – usually – calm waters are natural mirrors, reflecting the clouds, the mountains, the blue sky, the figures of herons or fishermen with their harpoons in the boat. One of the most important gifts of the route for the visitor is that the images are never the same, alternating with fascinating variety according to the seasons and times of day. It is impossible to remain indifferent to so much beauty.
Driving slowly, stopping and taking pictures, we reach Salaraora from Koronisia. As Dim. Raptis (2) notes, “Ali Pasha, wanting a way out of his state to southern Epirus, created the port of Salaira, connecting it at the same time with the also important road axis that led from it to Ioannina. There was a customs office, warehouses, commercial shops, a hani, Ali Pasha’s residence and a sufficient number of ships. The fall of Ali Pasha and its bombardment by Greek ships brought about its gradual decline”.
All that remains today is the superbly renovated Turkish Customs House that houses the Salaora Information Centre. The harbour is essentially a concrete pier with a “spark” at the end and a concrete slipway for the trailers of amateur fishermen who come from the surrounding area to fish the waters of the Amvrakikos. On Saturday morning we count more than 15 trailers lined up. On a part of the coastline, just north of the old Customs House, a narrow lagoon has been created, which is an excellent fishing shelter for numerous fishing boats.
Returning to Koronisia we stop at the premises of the Fishing Cooperative Logarou. Dozens of parked cars and lots of people. Fishermen are fished out the last of the nets, which are full of bream and – much less – bass. Many bream exceed half a kilo, some even approaching a kilo. Fresh, delicious, free-range fish in the waters of the vast lagoon of Logarou. The current price from the cooperative’s premises is 14 euros per kilo, which in summer, during periods of high demand, can reach 20 euros per kilo.
– The kilo bream are beautiful fish, I say to Vassilis Nikos, the President of the Cooperative.
– I agree, he replies, but do you know how long it takes the fry of a 2 gram bream to grow into a 1 kg fish?
– I confess, I have no idea.
– Three whole years, says Vasilis. If, of course, the fish is not caught in the nets sooner and then manages to survive the seagulls, pelicans and, most importantly, cormorants. These latter have become our great enemy, not only because of their numbers but also because of their insatiable gluttony.
Founded in 1972, the Association has 82 active members today, but has grown to 100. Members work three shifts and each month, after deducting expenses, profits are distributed equally. In the bleak times we are living in, with insecurities and especially great inequalities, I think it is an ideal society.
– What does a good year mean for the Cooperative in terms of catch volume? I ask Vasilis.
– The most important catches are of sea bream, he replies. A good year ranges from 50-70 tonnes. The corresponding good years for bass and mullet are 4 to 5 tonnes.
– What about eels and shrimps?
Vasilis shakes his head:
– Tens of tons of eels were once caught and today they are only a couple. The quantities of shrimp and goby are negligible. Unfortunately, fishing conditions are getting worse and worse.
We say goodbye to Vassilis and meet Nikos Siozios, a member of the Cooperative, who is waiting for us for a wander in the waters of Logarou. Behind the offices and warehouses are the port facilities of the Cooperative. We jump in the boat and head N-NE towards the town of Arta. Spread out before us is the Logarou Lagoon, vast and glistening in the sunlight, 36,000 acres of uncharted surface. It is a perfect feeling to glide at speed through the still waters. In about 10 minutes we approach the site of “Kamakia“, with its small grassy islets, home to colonies of silver pelicans.
Suddenly the speed decreases, the boat barely keeps moving. We have fallen into shallow water so shallow that the propeller of the engine touches and churns the muddy bottom, blurring the water. We take a circular course around the larger islet, which has developed a reed bed on its shoreline. We sail slowly and admire the colony of pelicans. Beautiful birds, at a quick count we count over 40. Their tranquillity is impressive even with our noisy presence. Only when Nikos moves towards them do they decide to abandon their spider and fly in those familiar, so stately flights a few centimetres above the unruffled surface of the water.
We head for a while towards the islet “Fortala“, with its small, picturesque fishpond. Then we take a course southwest towards the hill of Salara. The water has deepened by more than half a meter and we can move at speed again. We are approaching the heronry. In the distance, the delicate silhouettes of ash and white herons can already be seen among the small islets and canals. But unlike the pelicans, these birds are very frightened. Although our movement is slow, almost imperceptible, they do not allow us to get closer than 80-100 meters. Whenever we violate this limit, they express their concern with nervous movements, open their beautiful wings and fly a little further. We don’t mind. We just need to admire their ethereal beauty from afar.
Set sail for Koronisia again. Perfect punch. It’s an unprecedented feeling to sail for so long in such shallow and calm waters. We are passing at speed close to a large school of flounder. They react differently from other birds. Instead of changing their position by flying scared, they prefer to dive into the water, stay in for a few seconds and then come out again a little further away. Here are a few mockingbirds with higher necks. Their behaviour is much the same, trying to cope with danger by diving.
We are approaching a small flock of seagulls. Black heads, all-white bodies, well-toned and slender. They draw continuous circles a few metres above the calm surface, scan the – not particularly – transparent water with their incredible vision and suddenly they swoop down vertically with unimaginable speed, like rockets. The operation lasts no more than two to three seconds. When they emerge, most often there is a fish in their beak.
But here, a little further away, another predator. Unlike the seagulls, this one moves very slowly, almost imperceptibly. Until, of course, he spots his prey. Then he must act with great speed, skill and precision. It’s Barpa – Giannis Pappas with his boat, from the village of Mytikas. He is apparently not gifted with the acute vision of seagulls. But he has other assets: experience, patience and a long, formidable harpoon that ends in 11 pointed teeth, necessary to effectively harpoon the slippery, agile body of the eels.
The fishing of uncle – John was long and arduous, with constant standing and tension under the sun. Some eels, however, twist in the bucket. Perhaps in other times there would have been more.
IN THE WATERS OF AMVRAKIKOS
It’s almost noon. In the apnea of the lagoon Logarou the heat is felt. Uncle – Yannis reaches his harpoon on the side of the boat and starts the engine. He raises his hand and waves. That’s enough for today. Tomorrow again…
We too set sail for the premises of the Cooperative, a little sad to leave behind us images so varied, so special. But here we are, our youthful wanderings are not yet over. Another boat, bigger and with a keel, is waiting for us in Koronisia, in the harbour. It is the boat of Stefanos Patenda, also a member of this Fishing Association. After the experiences of the enclosed lagoon, Stefanos takes over to guide us through the small islands off Koronisia and the waters of Amvrakikos.
We sail from the well protected fishing port in a southeastern direction towards the Akarnanian mountains. We leave on our left the Sakoletsi lagoon with the lush, familiar Pera Island and set course for “Vouvala“, the largest of the islands of Koronisia. The punch is not as absolute as on Logarou, but it is still maintained. Only with the afternoon sorokaki will the water begin to wrinkle. Here are two representatives of the winged world, but different from the morning ones. There’s a pair of ducks flying in a hurry, a few metres above the water.
The minutes roll by and the islands are approaching. Open on the left are Vlachos, Diapori and Agios Antonios. In front of us is Vouvala, further out Vosinara and a few hundred metres further on Nissopoulos, the smallest of them all.
About a quarter of an hour after our departure we arrive in front of Vouvala, with its dense bushy vegetation, sandy coasts and the narrow tongues of land, the famous Louronisides, which connect it with three smaller islands. A strange landscape, very special and unusual. Small islands scattered here and there, low sandy coasts, dense bushy vegetation and, between them, tongues of land, a link created by nature with countless shells. A few miles further south, the houses of Vonitsa are whitewashed, while the outlines of many boats can be seen on the unchanging horizon of the bay. They are the fishing boats that have been dropped this morning from the Salara pier.
Suddenly, very close to us, there is a splash. Immediately afterwards, a dark mass emerges from the water. It’s the back of a dolphin. It disappears for a moment and after a few metres it comes out again. Two more appear with it. It’s a beautiful sight, so dear, with the familiar head and snout, the glossy dark ridges, so spectacularly curved out of the water.
–They have spotted a herd of sardines, says Stefanos.
We follow them for a few minutes discreetly. Just when we think we are close to them, they emerge a hundred meters away. At some point they disappear. They reappear in the distance, heading towards the Octio…
REFERENCES
(1) S. Mamaloukou, “Monasteries of Amvrakikos”, “PROTASI”, ARTA 1996
(2) Dim. Rapti, “From the Folklore of Amvrakikos”, “PROTASI”, ARTA 1996
