Corinth Canal

There aren’t many things on our sailing bucket list, but this is something that has been on there since day one: the Corinth Canal. Transiting through this manmade waterway is an iconic journey that seafarers have been making for 130 years. By effectively cutting off the Peloponnese from mainland Greece, captains could avoid travelling the additional 185 nautical miles (and the sometimes perilous journey) around the south of the country.

However, emperors have been dreaming of digging through this narrow isthmus for 2,000 years prior to its opening. This passage is so important that before the canal’s existence ships were physically dragged overland in order to shortcut between the Corinth and Saronic Gulfs. Dictator Julius Caesar, and Emperors Hadrian and Caligula, all refused to go ahead with the project for fear of the Adriatic flooding the Aegean. In 67CE Emperor Nero attempted the construction of the canal with a group of 6,000 slaves, but he was murdered before the plans were finalised.

 
 

In the 1830s the idea was reconsidered, but swiftly rejected as too expensive for the newly established Greek state after the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Eventually, in 1869 (the year the Suez Canal was completed), the government allowed a private company to build the canal and finally connect the Ionian and Aegean Seas, transforming Mediterranean navigation. It was used for the first time in 1893. Despite this achievement, the canal has experienced financial and operational difficulties ever since her completion, and these days the canal is too narrow for modern freighters anyway. 

Just 20 years later after it opened, usage of the Corinth Canal was majorly disrupted by WWI, and by the time WWII rolled around the canal became a strategic pawn in the Battle of Greece, causing serious damage both during Allied fighting and German scorched earth operations. Additionally, the narrowness of the canal (just 25m wide at sea level) makes navigation difficult. At 6.4km long, the different times of the tides in the two gulfs cause strong tidal currents in the channel. Its high walls (some 90m to the plateau above) funnel wind along its length. Additionally, the limestone walls are persistently unstable and the canal is regularly closed for landslips and repairs. In fact, it was reopened just six weeks before our passage after an eight month closure.

 
 

Given all of this, to say it was a momentous occasion to witness this engineering marvel up close is an understatement. Each end of the canal is bordered by submersible bridges, and we traversed the two sides of Greece in just 30 minutes. But once you are within these barriers it is an incredibly unique experience. Only a handful of ships can enter the canal at any one time, the flow of traffic alternating between East and West. The limestone walls give the water inside a milky turquoise appearance. The sheer cliffs are etched with names, dates and markings from those who have helped to build and maintain her. Parts of the canal still look under construction, thanks to the endless effort of keeping her operational. Conversely, disused bollards, lamps and walkways also pepper the sides at sea level, now overgrown with vegetation.

As we passed under one of the six bridges that cross over the canal, we hollered our hellos and waved madly at the pedestrians high above us! We were thrilled to finally reach this personal milestone in our own maritime adventure.