Grit, Persistance and Serendipity

"Yay! Yay!" the crew member yelled while high fiving and putting his arms around the shoulders of both kids at once. We had stumbled our way onto Blue Star Patmos with minutes to spare. It was obvious we were stressed out of our minds and that even though we were technically on the ship, we continued rushing to put our bags in the storage hold and run toward the boarding escalator – as if it were possible to still be left behind. It's not often a member of the cargo-bay crew engages a passenger at all, let alone in a fun, positive way – but it made for a great moment and helped us to shift gears.

You have to understand, a lot was riding on making it.

Had we not made the ferry, there wouldn't be another for essentially two days. No ferry from Athens to Patmos on Friday and the Saturday ferry doesn't leave until 11:55 pm – so essentially an entire second day. Alternatively, we could have flown to an island within range of Patmos where smaller daily ferries run or where a big ferry that may be running from Rhodes to Athens will make stops and still give us a shot at a Thursday night or Friday crossing.

Our Athens-bound flight from Chicago was delayed due to a passing thunderstorm. And while tailwinds promised to reduce the total flight time, getting out the gate kept getting pushed back. As our departure time was pushed back – and then again – I went into quiet contingency planning on my phone while the kids played on their iPads. Kos wasn't an option – but an afternoon flight to Samos was. If all else failed, Rhodes was too. From each of those, reasonable ferry options existed and an overnight on Samos would be cheaper and more pleasant than finding last-minute accommodation in Athens. I also pulled up the concierge phone number for my travel insurance – and checked my travel delay benefits. Better to have all the information ready than to start formulating a plan in a hot ferry dock parking lot with an exhausted 10 and 12-year-old. 

The anxious bargaining voice in my head said that if we landed in Athens up to an hour late, we could still make the ferry. 

When they finally cleared the ramps for service and began boarding the plane, things were looking up. We would depart an hour late, but with tailwinds, arrive only a half hour late – and with two hours to get to the ferry, I became hopeful. But air traffic control put in a lot of pauses on the tarmac. It had longer-than-usual intervals for outbound planes heading north. We were fourth in line for departure, but it was effectively like being eighth in line, Our advantage and my hope was eroding.

After airborne, the airplane's computer settled on an ETA of 11:40 am. Our ferry was scheduled to depart Piraeus  - 40 minutes to 1:05 away from the airport – at 1:00 pm. While we all managed to sleep on the flight, it was nonetheless a nail-biter for me the entire way.

When we landed, I decided whatever happens, we would do our best to make the ferry. Greek transportation is not always on time – there could be a grace period for us with a late departing ferry – although no way to check it like you can with a flight. I prepared the kids to jam through the airport. I shared our sob story with our neighbors so we might be given leave to cut in line to "make our connection". People were kind and sympathetic. We caught a small break when the plane pulled into a gate right near passport control – and another small one when our Star Alliance Priority Baggage tags actually worked and we got our bags quickly.

With bags in hand, we were ready to exit the terminal at 12:10. I had booked and prepaid a car service in advance. Moreover, I had emailed with the owner of the car service two days ago to emphasize the critical timing of our itinerary today. Only in a sea of drivers with name signs waiting outside the security perimeter, none of them had my name. After two quick passes looking for our driver, I came to a juncture I knew would either be a winning solution or a foolhardy move: throw money at the problem and grab a taxi.

Sometimes the taxi lines at the Athens Airport are incredibly long – the major reason I had booked a car. And you never know if a taxi driver will communicate easily or be fair with the meter or pricing. Yet, some driver was better than no driver if we had even a prayer at making our ferry. Miraculously, we walked to the front of the taxi line and as if placed there by divine providence, our perfect driver was waiting: dressed nicely, good English, honest, comfortable car, lives in Piraeus, understood and cared about the urgency. He used every shortcut and trick he had short of being scary or dangerous.

Our entire ride from airport to port, I had Google Maps open on my phone. It slowly went from showing us arriving at 1:02 to 12:58 to 12:56 at which point, my hope was rising. As it dropped to 12:54 a few miles from our destination, I realized we were probably going to make this boat.

Of course the kids and I contingency planned along the way. Had we pulled up at any time – particularly on the cusp of 1:00, Sennen was to run from the taxi to the ferry ramp and plead for them to wait while his dad and sister came with the bags. So prepared was he for his emergency role that he executed it anyway when we arrived with sufficient time to spare. In fact, the crew was still loading vehicles into the garage decks and we were totally fine to walk onto the ferry in a dignified manner. Luckily, a kind couple of crew members found it endearing that Sennen found it necessary to stop the show and ensure his family could board – which is probably what triggered the nice man in the cargo hold to cheer with us.

Back on the plane, when taxiing from runway to gate, Sennen felt sure we would not make the ferry. I reminded him of how his mom felt sure we would not make our flight to Singapore and Thailand in December 2021 because of a strange COVID-era online visa-pass protocol for which we had been uninformed and which led me to sitting with a laptop on the floor of the Bradley Terminal at LAX, trying to get us all cleared to enter the Kingdom of Thailand. Despite all odds and a LOT of stress, we worked as a family and a team to overcome – and we did. I told Sennen I couldn't promise anything, but we were going to do our best and we had a shot at succeeding – so we were going to take that shot.

Despite their fatigue, the kids met the moment and by some combination of the grace of Zeus, Poseidon and St John the Divine – we are on the way to Patmos as I write. For the public record, Blue Star Patmos departed at 1:11 pm. 

"This is the best bifteki, ever! It's better than Stefanos' bifteki!" Sennen exclaimed as he dug into lunch from the ship's cafeteria. I thought either Stefanos of the Agriolivadi Taverna is seriously losing his touch or at that point, Sennen was just so happy that even meat from a steam tray was the best thing ever. Since I don't eat red meat, I'll never know – but I have my suspicions.

This ferry crossing is the earliest out of Athens I've ever had. Usually the boats leave at either 6pm or 3pm – which the Saturday night ferry leaving at 11:55pm. With the stress behind us, it means we can enjoy a beautiful afternoon on the smooth, sapphire blue Aegean – even sitting at a cafe table on an outside deck. We'll arrive at Patmos around 9pm – not too late for dinner, although understandably, at this point showers and bed seem to appeal more to the kids.

Obviously, today's story could have easily gone another way. We could have called it quits at the airport and started working on island flights and calls to the travel insurance concierge. Any number of things – including a traffic jam or stalled semi could have derailed us. We can't really take any credit for this success other than having some grit and perseverance – which are important for the kids to have.

That's the thing about life – it's a mixture of events and circumstances beyond our control and our responses to them. Sometimes we get ahead of the curve with some good planning and forethought. Even still, we craft our plans and then have to allow for whatever happens to take place.

On the eve of my good friend Conlan's wedding – which he and his wife Sharon had planned so thoughtfully for so long – he told me how he was prepared to let go and allow the day to happen. He had done all he could and he could either spend his day trying to manage every detail, or be present and enjoy the fruit of their hard work – knowing that the randomness of life could and would creep in somewhere. In fact, it was a beautiful wedding made most enjoyable by Conlan and Sharon being so present and engaged.

It's also worth mentioning that we didn't go unsupported. Tuesday evening, United messaged me saying Chicago was facing possible thunderstorms that could interfere with flights and connections – and that it would be free to change flights. I examined our options – of which connecting in Newark seemed the closest thing to viable. Luckily, my friends Shari and Ron Mark dove in to help in my hour of confusion. Ron flies 757's and 767's for United. They called from their car  - Ron with his company iPad in-hand from which he could access the very weather data United itself uses. We walked through the scenarios, advantages, disadvantages – accounting for weather, airport operations, connection times, etc – and concluded that among the risks that seemed to abound – Chicago was still the best overall path forward. I am grateful both for the guidance and friendship that went into that conversation. It turns out, it worked – by the skin of our teeth – but it worked all the same. 

On hour three of the ferry ride, both kids are pretty zonked. After two days of incredibly positive attitudes and kindness, they're allowed the kvetching (complaining) that comes at hour 27 of the journey. Right now, Sennen is passed on in an "airplane type seat" and Ailyn is doubled over a cafe table on the cafe deck.

Tomorrow, when they're playing on the beach – maybe even having some of Stefanos' bifteki – the stress and challenge of the travel will be washed away in the radiant blue waters. Instead of thinking about Blue Star Patmos, or the Rhapsody In Blue of United, they'll be thinking about which shade of blue to swim through. And all will be well.