By James Banakis | September 23rd, 2026

“Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?”

               ― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

 

This old man returned to Costa Navarino after two years to play golf again. My plan was to play all four world class courses, but like all my fluid plans, they always surprise me. Whatever I do for pleasure usually involves impulse. Following my inclinations has always rewarded me with delight. What I will remember about the last two weeks wasn’t the golf, but what the Greeks call E Thalassa, the sea. Hemingway always thought of the sea as feminine. Something that gives or withholds great favors, and like a woman, she’s affected by the moon.

I’ve always been drawn to the sea, and experienced it throughout the world, twice during hurricanes. Maybe all these years, I’ve taken it for granted. These past few weeks I had a transcendent relationship with the beautiful turquoise waters to the crystal-clear blue water beyond the shore. Like being thunderstruck by a powerful nymph-goddess from the Odessey, I surrendered and saw it anew with wonder and respect.

My son-in-law gifted my brother Ted and I a full day exploring Navarino Bay and beyond on a 70-foot yacht. He promised that it would be life altering. When one reaches this third act of our life, there’s an expectation that we’ve experienced most everything in life. When something unexpectedly stirs our souls, we revert to being 20 again.

Our boat departed from Pylos, the three of us, our captain Elias, and his shipmate Jason. Jason, a student at the American University told me that his desire to learn English was driven as a child by wanting to watch American films without subtitles. When I asked what his favorite movies were, expecting classics, he mentioned one about motorcycles. Elias also in his early 20’s had a masterful understanding of history, and I quizzed him.

Navarino Bay is one of Earth’s most naturally mesmerizing, striking ocean enclosures in the world. It entices you to survey it’s 80-foot-high natural encasements dotted with caves and narrow door like openings to the Ionian beyond.

It was the site of the last major naval battle in history on October 20,

1827, fought entirely with traditional sailing ships.  An allied fleet from Britain, France, and Russia surprised hundreds of Ottoman ships, and decisively destroyed the Turkish Navy thus ensuring the creation of an independent Kingdom of Greece. Elias, a masterful diver, had inspected the site many times and reported that there are no remnants of the hundreds of sunken Turkish ships. My head was swimming with heroic visions of Errol Flynn in The Sea Hawk.

We transversed one of the openings and out onto the open ocean. Greece is blessed with thousands of mostly uninhabited islands of varied sizes. Each one begs to be explored. As we circled one then the next it is easy to understand how myths were created. Like steppingstones they lure you to continue in search of whatever quest lies beyond. Geologically these islands and this sea have remained the same since time of Homer.

One of the most magical experiences written about by the poets is sailing into a harbor slowly on a perfect summer morning for the first time. The locals on shore going about their lives you hear church bells, and distant voices. There is an anticipation of wanting to become a part of their small planet.

We drifted smoothly into the harbor of Marathopoli and were met by a fellow restaurateur, Nikos Thalassinos whose last name fittingly means a man of the seas.  Finding out I was from Chicago, Nikos told me his uncle was Perry, the owner of the former Rodity’s restaurant in Greektown. We bonded. He led us to Argiris, his seafood spot, and to a table next to the rocks with the sea splashing at our feet. A stay cat wondered about. Nikos, the perfect host asked what we’d want to sample, and I asked for the freshest catch he had. His son brought out two large clear-eyed beauties, and I chose the slightly smaller. Maybe it was the moment, as I know that can influence one’s senses, but it was the most incredible slightly sweet, perfectly cook fish I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve ingested a lifetime of excellent seafood. This was combined with flawless tomato salad to win my award of my best meal of the last decade. Yes, I rate memorable meals. I’ve collected enough over the years to combine them in a book that I’ll complete in another life.

Returning to our boat it was out to sea again.  We reached a point of a sunken Italian ship sunk by the British during WWII. My son-in-law dived in to explore. I wanted to join him by was stopped by that internal silent warning system we acquire about the age of 60 that tugs us back to the reality of survival.  While we drifted with the engines stopped, Jason inadvertently dropped a piece of equipment in the sea and Elias told me it was necessary for him to scuba dive to retrieve it.

He reemerged three times before popping up to the surface with the black piece of metal. We cheered, as it reminded me of the Epiphany service where a priest tosses a crucifix into the sea to be retrieved by young swimmers. The person who successfully recovers and returns the cross receives a special blessing for good fortune, health, and luck throughout the coming year. As we pulled Elias back aboard, I felt that wave of good fortune.

The following morning, I was supposed to play one of the rounds of golf, but I needed to return to the sea instead. This time on a chaise lounge at the beach with a good book and my playlist of songs. I spent a good part of the day there at the water’s edge with the waves ebbing and flowing like someone familiar breathing next to you.

I found out it became the perfect opportunity to reassess my life and reflect on my blessings. The timeless sea promotes this much like an empty, familiar church. Twice I waded into the surf gazing out into the endless seductive aquatic landscape.

Now I know I’m generations away from ancestors who immigrated from this achingly stunning land, but it always lovingly embraces me as a wayward son.  The eternal thalassa has a lot to do with that feeling. A feeling we all can return to if only in a dream.

I really don’t know why it is that all of us are so committed to the sea, except I think it is because in addition to the fact that the sea changes and the light changes, and ships change, it is because we all came from the sea. And it is an interesting biological fact that all of us have, in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch it we are going back from whence we came.

                                                           – John F. Kennedy

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Jimmy Banakis is a life-long restaurateur.  He was an honorary batboy for the White Sox in 1964. He attended Oak Park River Forest High School, Nebraska Wesleyan University, and Chicago-Kent Law School.  He claims the kitchen is the room he’s most comfortable in anywhere in the world. He published an extremely limited-edition family cookbook. He’s a father and grandfather, and lives in Downers Grove Il.