I'M TALKING TO Pavlo the Sailor in a back-alley Piraeus café, where mustached old men sip Greek coffee each morning under blueing Titanic posters and generic wall murals of the Acropolis. It's two days before I'm scheduled to sail the Greek islands, and this has proven my favorite way to kill time in Athens's old industrial port town. The harbor sits just three blocks away, and apart from the café, every shop in the alley sells buoys, rope, or life preservers.

Though he tells me he has plenty of experience at sea, Pavlo doesn't look much like a sailor: no wool cap, no bristly beard, no faded tattoos. His appearance is closer to that of a scientist: slight of build, clean-shaven, with graying hair and an intense gaze. When I tell him about my plans, he nods approvingly and lights a Marlboro. "If you're going to write an article about sailing in Greece," he says, "you must mention Odysseus."

ASSOS AND ALLEYWAYS: A whitewashed corridor on Naxos; right, The crew aboard their 55-foot yacht. (Max Kim-Bee)