Costa Smeralda and Bonifacio to Porto Vecchio

Porto San Paolo anchorage with Tavolara in the east

As I mentioned in the previous post, I was expecting guests for most of August and this presents a challenge when you try and sneak in some projects and maintenance. Invariably one disassembles more than one needs to, unpacks all the tools and the boat is total carnage in a matter of minutes. Despite many civil discussions on the topic, this is a completely unavoidable way of working, I assure you. So my challenge was getting a few things done and returning it to being inhabitable in time for the arrival of my guests.
Our dear friends Florian, Ulrike and their daughters, who I haven't seen in years, joined me and it instantly felt like it was nearly 30 years ago when we lived and worked in Zurich at the same time. We spent a wonderful week sailing along the Costa Smeralda and enjoying great meals together over stories of past and present adventures. Seldom have we enjoyed so few engine hours, minutes in some cases, as has been the case with this summer. The engine on a sailing yacht is only meant to be an auxiliary aid and you do question what it is all about if you spend too many hours motoring along in a season. Sardinia, in my experience anyway, is worth the time there even just for this reason alone.

One of Florian's precarious shopping trips

Delights of the local market

Ice Cream expedition

Our week sailing and at anchor passed very quickly and it was time for our son Fabian and his five friends to reprise last year's outing. Again the wind was ideal for a week of sometimes relaxed, sometimes sporty sailing. The ginger tablets came out only once but then all found their sea legs quite quickly. I, on the other hand, on a trip to the supermarket, found myself quite wobbly with a touch of land sickness. Small price to pay, I figured. It also struck me that I had been disconnected from shore power for well over a month, with no hint of interruption in the supply of ice. The only challenge, especially with several guests onboard is making sure the water tanks don't run empty. A water maker suddenly does not seem like too much of an indulgence....this might be the second time I mention that.

From this mess

and new bilge pumps

to some sort of order

No sooner had Fabian and crew arrived than they had left, it seemed. Just a few days later Catherine returned from somewhere north, where they have concerts, apparently. Our MdR friends Dave and Annie on Serenity joined us in the bay and just before we set off on the next leg of our journey we all sat out a hefty Maestrale, anchors holding without a problem though. This, Porto San Paolo, remains one of my favourite anchorages. We decided to head towards Corsica and stopped at the Island of Lavezzi before going into Bonifacio.

Bonifacio from the lighthouse

After being at anchor for 6 weeks this visit to a big town (2600 inhabitants) was quite an adjustment. It is a very picturesque place steeped in lots of steps, with a disco next to the marina that keeps precise time, allowing you to know exactly when 3am has arrived. Nevertheless, the novelty took time to wear thin and we stayed on a day longer than Catherine would have liked giving us time to plot our way around increasingly unsettled weather it seemed. Working our way up the east coast we found another beautiful bay, Golfe de Rondinara, that took all that it gave when, in the middle of the night, the swell came in perfectly perpendicular to us as if to check whether you had put all your crockery away properly. We had as it happens, but that does not stop you getting up in the morning with muscle cramps from fighting the rocking for hours and wondering whether you need a dentist to reinsert your fillings. Throwing a kedge anchor to align yourself with the swell is a theory that finds little traction at 2am I have found.

Next morning lots of ash on deck

I passed on sitting on that terrace

Some boats are prettier than others

We left early and sailed with a strong following wind to Porto Vecchio just a few hours north. The bay is an expansive and shallow place with a pretty village perched high on a hill to the west. The very same west that you would expect to be sheltered from when the wind picks up dramatically from that direction. The forecast was for some very gusty days and we spent the first night happily at anchor before we radioed the marina to confirm our telephone conversation about a berth. French can sound very abrupt sometimes especially when greeted with a 'Non, Madame!' and you are forced to make other plans.

Bonifacio cliffs

Well, we knew the holding was good here in thick mud so we got on with it and anchored along with an increasing number of other boats to sit out the storm. We lashed everything down, put the dinghy on deck, dropped the sprayhood and put out all our chain. Our anchor dug in and didn't move an inch, miraculously. The wind came up as predicted and we were subjected to some of the fiercest gusts we have experienced. One of my middle of the night OCD moments to check that all was ok revealed a 50 footer that I had seen anchored several hundred meters upwind of us, dragging and pass us going backwards at some speed not stopping until the unsuspecting skipper belatedly switched on his engine and tried to stop and pick up his anchor. By now he had dragged the best part of five or six hundred meters. Eventually, navigation lights on, he went in search of a new spot to drop his anchor. At some stage he came rather too close for comfort. The skipper of the super-catamaran next to me and I shone our brightest spot lights at him to fend him off. Once he was settled we faintly heard an outboard coming out of the darkness and howling gale. Some of his crew had obviously decided to hit the night life in Porto Vecchio and returning, after 2 am now, to the spot where they expected their boat to be, they were greeted by a dark, windy void. They thought we might be their boat but attempts at talking to them failed as the alcohol seemed to render most European languages, and we tried 4, incomprehensible.

Safe haven with a view

The next morning was spent looking at weather models and deciding on the best time to leave for Rome. The wind was slowly calming down, but the sea was most certainly vicious out there so patience, in these circumstances, becomes the best virtue. We radioed the marina again and this time were able to go in and tie up for a day. Thursday seemed like the day to leave and we busied ourselves with some provisioning and cleaning, before enjoying a fine lunch at a great bistro along the promenade. Porto Vecchio suffered from a reputation of being a seedy, malaria infested place, but this is not at all the case today. It is also a convenient point from which to head to Rome, being 130 nautical miles just about due east, you can't really get lost and assuming you have a nice north easterly and a flat sea... well, again, the theory is sound, but more of that next time.