Corsica (II)

Cruising Log of Corsica (II)

Friday, August 13

It was 9:30 at night on when we arrived in Ajaccio, Corsica. It had been a long day. By bus from Fex Crasta, Switzerland, to Chiavenna, Italy, via Sils Maria, CH; then by train (several trains) to Nice, France, via Colico and Milan and finally by plane from Nice to Corsica. The rest of our group (three other couples — two, as we are, from Memphis and one from Champagne. IL) had already arrived, had supper and were sitting on a high stone wall near our Hotel, appropriately named "The Hotel Napoleon" waiting for us. We all walked down toward the harbor and had a pizza and beer while we made plans for the next morning and the beginning of our two-week cruise aboard "Viktoria," a Beneteau 464, hailing port, Munich.

I had been working on this trip a long time. The Cruising Guide I had bought from Bluewater Books had been read from cover to cover and referred to many times as I input 105 waypoints into my handheld Garmin GPS Plus III. What a blessing that turned out to be. Our basic plan was to sail north to St. Florent. We weren't sure whether we would sail around Cap Corse to Bastia or not. We had heard that the East cost is not and scenic as the West and there were certainly fewer anchorages there. We would decide that later.

The only imperatives were that one couple had to get a plane out of Bastia on the 21st to be replaced by another crew member arriving in Bastia that day and we all wanted to visit Bonifacio, on the southern tip of the island, sometime during the two weeks at sea.

We happened to arrive on Napoleon's birthday. So, that night and the next and for several more we were treated to a gala display of fireworks wherever we happened to be. There is simply no better place to view fireworks than from an anchored sailboat in an attractive Mediterranean bay.

Saturday, August 14

The morning was spent getting to know the boat, which wasn't too difficult, since she is the four-cabin version of our three cabins "Sam McGee" based in Tortola. Half the group took on the task of provisioning while the other half tried to do the necessary for a three p.m. departure. The anticipated briefing didn't materialize but the inventory always takes time especially when the parties involved don't speak the same language as was the case here. Things moved slowly. The Moorings office had but one attendant who was new on the job and who left her post apparently in search of information each time someone asked her a question. We spoke with others who were standing around the office and agreed to the recommendation of a Captain that we would be wise simply to sail across the Golfe d'Ajaccio to an anchorage near Porticcio.

After a delicious lunch near the harbor where our very attractive young Corsican waitress risked her life dashing through traffic to get to the restaurant across the street from our waterside table we repaired to the boat and waited for permission to leave.

We departed at about 1600. As we motored out of the Port of Ajaccio we were entertained by a couple of "Fire Planes," red and yellow amphibians which skimmed over the water scooping up sea water to dump on the brush fires that were burning in the mountains. We were to see that repeatedly while in Corsica.
After motoring out through the marker buoys we hoisted sails and in an hour were across the Golfe and anchoring off Porticcio, carefully checking for anchor drag as we observed surf breaking over nearby rocks inshore from the boat. A wonderful dinner was enjoyed on board while we watched the fire works.  All was well until around eleven p.m. when someone ashore began to play bongo drums — a sound we had not expected to hear in Corsica — but we all heard it for the next several hours.

Sunday, August 15

Underway fairly early, sailing when we could but the wind pretty much from the Northeast, past Iles Sanguinaires with lunch on board and arriving at Girolata in the late afternoon tacking downwind.  The harbor is quite small with room for only about a dozen yachts.  We made three attempts at anchoring before we were satisfied and then found ourselves a little further out past the sheltering point than we wanted to be.  We were looking at a long reach and thought we might have a somewhat uncomfortable night. That proved to be true.

Girolata is an old town with an ancient castle/tower on the hill overlooking the harbor. We took the dinghy ashore and enjoyed a hike around the small town. Here we saw for the first time a number of backpackers hiking the Corsican trails. That is quite a popular European activity. Those who do it need to carry plenty of water for the inland mountains are dry. Corsica is very rugged. Although it is only 120 miles by 40 there are twenty peaks over 7000 feet.

We had an excellent dinner at Bel Ombra and upon returning to the boat were once again were treated to fireworks and bongo drums. We remembered to take a flashlight and to leave the anchor light on even though we had left the boat in daylight — a precaution I sometimes regrettably fail to take.

Monday, August 16

We motored/sailed to the Baie de Crovani where we anchored off a lovely beach for a refreshing swim and had lunch on board. Swimming in the Med is great. The water is cool but not cold (in August) and crystal clear. Then on to Calvi and it's impressive fortress. We tried to get into the harbor but it was very crowded and the instructions in the cruising guide about finding the Port Captain and making arrangements for a berth or mooring didn't seem to square with the actual situation in the harbor. After some very tight maneuvering we decided to anchor outside the harbor in about 25 feet. That proved to be satisfactory although some bottoms got wet during the dinghy ride into the town.

Calvi is near one of the four airports in Corsica. So, many European — not American — tourists arrive there daily in the summer. The town is crowded but one of our group made the wise decision of making a dinner reservation in the TAO restaurant in the Citadel, high above the town, for a delicious although somewhat expensive meal. Then back to the boat. No fireworks that night but the bongos continued.

Tuesday, August 17

Some provisioning in Calvi then sailed north with a brisk wind and a heavy following sea — our destination: Plage du Loto.

This day we set our record sailing speed, 9.7 knots, while having a non-spillable lunch on board. The anchorage at Plage du Loto looked full and not well protected so we rounded Pointe Mortella and anchored off the beach and some rocks at Anse de Fiume Santu. We were all tired and enjoyed dinner on board. No more bongos tonight. A good nights sleep.

Wednesday, August 18

It was a short sail from Anse de Fiume Santu to St. Florent. We arrived about 09:30 expecting to top off the water and fuel tanks — not that we needed to but we didn't know when we would have another opportunity. There was so much traffic at the harbor entrance that it was all we could do to avoid other boats. At length we nosed into the fuel dock just long enough for one of our number to leap ashore so that contact could be made with the HarborMaster to line up a slip or mooring.

Meanwhile we loitered outside the breakwater and finally anchored sending the dinghy in to retrieve our reconnoitering crewmember when we saw him waving to us. There were no slips available he said. We thought it was just as well as there were so many boats in the harbor. From the time we had arrived traffic coming in and out of the harbor had been continuous. Our reconnaissance agent had obtained a weather report, which was favorable but predicted increasing wind and building seas. We found such weather reports posted at each HarborMaster's Office after about nine each morning. There were also weather forecasts on the VHF radio at dictation speed in English but they covered a very large area and it took a long time to hear what we wanted. We had brought a recorder but we did not find to be very useful.

We remained at anchor for the remainder of that day with everybody having a look around the town, which was quite nice with many good restaurants and lots of local color. Lunch at harbored — really good moules (a big bowl of mussels cooked in wine sauce) and a fine dinner at La Marinuccia overlooking the water.

Thursday, August 19

Topped off the fuel tank and filled our forward water tank. We were still on our number one water tank thanks to an especially careful crew. Six of our number rented a car and drove up to Port Centuri on Cap Corse; Sally and I stayed in St. Florent. The adventurers returned to say that they had experienced a breathtaking ride on narrow mountain roads with spectacular scenery and a delightful lunch at the Langustier Restaurant — great seafood platters. That night at about midnight a wind, which I think, is called the "Sirocco" struck with strong HOT, HOT winds from the South. Everybody was up at one time or another for it was clear that we were dragging our anchor. Things worked out though. We stayed well away from the other boats, some of which were also dragging and there were no obstructions behind us — just shallow water and mud.  After a while things settled down. The wind slackened and we seemed to be secure again.

The next morning we found Viktoria covered with red dust. It was all the way from the Sahara, we guessed. It took us about two hours to clean her up. We had a similar experience many years ago in Itea, Greece. The same thing happened; strong hot winds from the South followed by everything being covered with red dust. I have never otherwise felt such a hot wind. It's like standing in front of a convection oven. I think I'll pass if I have another opportunity.

Friday, August 20 

The wind shifted from South to North at about 30 knots.  We decided to sail around the Golfe de St. Florent rather than attempt the long passage around Cap Corse to Bastia.  The Bastia airport is almost as close to St. Florent as it is to Bastia so our departing couple could easily get to the airport by taxi.  We started out with two reefs in the main and about half the genoa furled so that we had a good and fairly comfortable sail although the seas were a bit lumpy — six to eight feet. Things calmed down afternoon and we put into Plage du Loto for lunch and a swim.  Back to our anchorage off the jetty at St.Florent and a glass of wine while we watched the fire planes scoop up water from the Golfe coming so close to us we could see the pilot's face and wave to him.

Last dinner in St. Florent at L'Europa.