the best advice..which almost got me killed:

January, 1986
 "Many thanks for the travel stories,Laurent. It was great to hear about your adventures in India and crossing land through Turkey. Best of luck to you in your atelier in Paris. See you when I come north again."

Greece's Rhodos port was small and the departing ship even smaller. How could this tiny boat carry me, my travel partner, these other 150 passengers, several cars and a camper van to eastern shores? It was barely 9 miles but a world away from anything I had expected to participate in.

A gale had whipped up, winds perpendicular to our path of travel, forcing waves of unbelievable height at an angle too dangerous to navigate. Having sailed since my youth, I love water, oceans, lakes and seas. This time,I gripped the upper deck railing astounded by the water peaks that rose higher than the van strapped down on the main deck platform. Twenty or thirty footers. No one said anything during that crossing. This is how I live my last day, to perish at sea, I told myself.

In six hours, the vessel broached the gap near Marmara. In the bay, turquoise calm waters eddied out the storm. Everyone on board was nauseous yet grateful. Customs officials wisked us past formalities. Locals offered lemon tea and blankets.

Marmaris was a village then, full of kind shopkeepers, fishermen, boat builders and families. Koray and his brother belonged to a lineage of carpet sellers.They took me to a rooftop of a local pension with a small room, full of carpets and pillows.It made a perfect place to rest. They said we would meet the next day to tour the town, eat and pass time in their carpet shop. The storm that had hit while out at sea climbed in and over Marmaris that night. My tiny room of carpets weathered it beautifully.