Friends call him Konos, a warm abbreviation of Kon/nos—but most know him simply as Kostas, the man who steers the shuttle boat that glides between Ammoudi and Armeni, ushering guests toward one of Santorini’s most memorable meals.
Just before noon, the first engine hum breaks the quiet lull of Ammoudi Bay. The sun, high but not yet harsh, bounces off whitewashed walls and volcanic cliffs. At the water’s edge, Kostas steps onto the dock with a familiar ease, greeting the boat like an old friend.
A Barracuda 7-meter, 300-horsepower vessel awaits him—sleek and steady, its nose aimed toward Armeni. A handwritten list of lunch reservations sits nearby, but Kostas already knows the rhythm of the day. His shift has begun—not in a suit and tie, but in sea-sprayed motion.
“I don’t start early. That’s the magic,” he says. “I begin when the day is already breathing.”
Born and raised in Piraeus, Kostas—full name Konstantinos Papalexopoulos—left Greece to study Computer Engineering in Ohio. There, he joined the university sailing team, balancing binary codes by day and boat races by weekend.
“I always loved the sea,” he recalls. “But it was sport then. Strategy. Timers. GPS.”
After graduating, he returned to Greece and built a successful career that spanned nearly three decades. Then came the financial crisis of 2012—a major shift that redefined not only the economy, but also his sense of purpose.
“I had spent years in offices, working with systems and schedules,” he says. “But after the crisis, I realized I wanted something simpler, more grounded. Something real.”
And that’s how he ended up in Santorini.
For the past nine years, Kostas has worked with the Canaves Collection, manning the boat that takes guests from Ammoudi to Armeni Restaurant. It’s a short trip—barely five minutes—but one he repeats up to 25 times a day, ferrying more than 18.000 guests every season.
His priorities are simple and sacred: safety first, serenity always.
“People step on board expecting a transfer. I try to give them a moment.”
The sea is not just a route—it’s his stage, his sanctuary. “You get everything in that little passage: light, movement, silence, laughter.”
Kostas occasionally adds a detour, circling the rock of Agios Nikolaos with its tiny chapel, giving passengers a side-view of Oia’s architectural cascade. “From the sea, the island humbles you,” he says. “It feels heavier, more ancient.”
He gestures toward the shoreline caves—known locally as Varkaries—traditional cave dwellings carved into the volcanic rock. “Locals used them in the past as summer homes,” Kostas explains, “and in winter, they used to store their boats inside.” Then he pauses, letting the quiet speak. “They’re part of Santorini’s heartbeat. Most people pass by without even knowing they exist.”
Over the years, Kostas has quietly welcomed his share of well-known passengers aboard. Stanley Tucci, Alessandra Ambrosio, Tom Hanks—each has sat on his boat, soaking in the caldera breeze like any other guest. “They didn’t ask for anything special,” he says with a shrug. “Just the ride, the view, the calm.” He treats every guest with the same attentive grace. “You don’t need to say much. Sometimes, silence and sea spray are enough.”
Kostas doesn’t wear a name tag. He doesn’t deliver a welcome script. And yet, his presence is among the most quietly memorable in a guest’s stay.
“Hospitality is in how you hand someone a life vest. It’s in the way you time the ride so the sea breeze hits just right.”
His favorite part of the day? “September afternoons,” he says. “The island breathes slower. Guests stop rushing. They start seeing again.”
Though he trained as a computer engineer, Kostas never regrets his path. “I was taught to build machines. Now, I build moments,” he says with a shrug and a smile.
He lives beneath Oia for six months each year, surrounded by the rustle of sea and stone. His favorite dish at Armeni? “Spaghetti with seafood. You taste the salt, the sun, the simplicity.”
And as he pushes off from the dock once more, heading into the light-dappled water with another small group, he calls back with a nod:
“No two rides are the same. That’s the thing about the sea—it keeps you honest.”
…find your way down to Ammoudi, and wait by the small pier where the gray Barracuda docks. When Kostas greets you—quietly, with a nod and a knowing smile—you’ll know you’re in good hands.
Step aboard and let him guide you, not just across the water, but into the soul of the island. Because in that short five-minute ride, you’ll glimpse a Santorini that’s quieter, truer, and richer—seen not through a camera lens, but through the eyes of someone who’s chosen this life with intention and grace. And you’ll carry that feeling long after the boat has docked.
