Flying Dutchman

- Nic Compton

The view from Thira, on the Greek island of Santorini, is one of the most photographed in the world. And no wonder. From 980ft up, you look out over the spectacular seven-mile-wide caldera, a ring of islands formed by a volcanic eruption 3,600 years ago, which is said to have provided the inspiration for the Atlantis story. The sea here is up to 600ft deep and its rich blue contrasts spectacularly with the whitewashed houses tumbling down the hillside above. So timeless is the scene, it’s not hard to imagine the Minoan ships depicted in the island’s ancient frescoes paddling across the bay in a ceremonial procession.

Yet, when I visited the island in July and looked south past the Akrotiri peninsula, I saw something quite different. There, silhouetted against the horizon, was a gaff schooner, with dramatically raked masts and a distinctive clipper bow – the kind of vessel you might expect to see sailing off the east coast of America. As the ship sailed across the caldera past Thira, past the mock pirate ships and liners crammed with tourists, she looked as if she came from a different species, like a sea petrel gliding through a flock of pigeons. Even the tourists seemed to notice the difference, and soon dozens of mobile phones were pointing in her direction, though few of their operators would have known they were looking at a historic Dutch pilot schooner which was used to carry spies during World War II, was once owned by King Farouk I of Egypt, and is now owned by an Italian count descended from three Venetian doges. All of that would have passed them by, as they smiled for pictures of themselves with a pretty black-and-white boat in the background.