amongst the weirdly shaped rocks
centre-right in the far distance
We had been thinking of heading north to Porto Vecchio. However, we were enjoying Sulaire's company, and there was hardly any wind, so we decided to be less ambitious. At Cherry's suggestion we headed for the French island of Levezzi. The wind was very light, and the water cut up by the frequent passage of countless powerboats, making sailing quite difficult. We did manage to sail until at 1630 with around 7 miles to go we started to motor. Sulaire had suggested Cala della Chiesa, on the western side. This does not rank as an 'anchorage' in the pilot, and with rocks all around we were keen to get settled in daylight.
We found Sulaire nestled amongst the rocks, and Hugh came off in the dinghy to take our lines. He supervised dropping the anchor in a deeper 'hole' under the rock, and we tied stern-to alongside Sulaire, with our depth meter reading zero under the keel. Hugh then donned his wet suit, mask and flippers, and went to re-arrange our anchor in the optimum position, so that it dug in on the edge of the hole. Hugh reckoned we had at least a couple of inches, but as we settled down to drinks in the cockpit we started to nudge the bottom.
The anchorage amongst the strangely shaped rocks was truly atmospheric. As it grew dark, the rocks became sillhouettes. With the memorial to the soldiers and crew of the wrecked troop ship Semillante in the near distance, and the call of the mysterious birds, it became quite spooky.
Driven down below by mosquitoes, and illuminated by the light of many citronella candels, we had pasta carbonara, using some of our bacon mountain. We had another round of 'down the pan' after supper, but as Fuga has no 'sticky stuff' we all went to bed relatively early and sober.
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| Anchored with Sulaire in Cala di Chiesa amongst the weirdly shaped rocks | Sulaire with the memorial to Semillante centre-right in the far distance |
As the tide rose we had stopped nudging the bottom, but around 7 am we were at it again. We decided to re-anchor on Sulaire's port side, where in fairness they had intended us to anchor in the first place. There we found nearly three quarters of a metre below us. We spent the day variously snorkelling and working on Sulaire's outboard. The snorkelling is perhaps the best we have seen in the Mediterranean, both from the variety and size of the fish population. In the evening we wound up with another barbeque on Sulaire, with chops generously provided by Sulaire. Fuga's resources are getting increasingly bare!
Unfortunately, when we went back on board Fuga, we found that she had dragged her anchor out of its new lodgings in what had become a fresh north easterly wind, and was now lying perhaps 4 or 5 metres closer to the rocks behind. Earlier in the evening, as we were settling in to our drink, a large dive boat had come in to the anchorage, anchored, and laid its chain across the top of all the anchored yachts. They had come around and explained that they would be away early in the morning. This precluded us from moving anywhere, even if that had been wise in amongst the rocks. We had to dig out the kedge, and Hugh kindly helped to lay it to windward as additional insurance. Knowing that there was a lot of weed in front of the bower this did not put our minds at rest, and so I maintained an anchor watch for half the night, until I was both so tired and convinced that we were not going to move back any further.
The following morning, Hugh visited our anchors. Our bower was in fact caught on the dive boat chain. If I had been able to see that I could have gone to bed content that we would not be going anywhere! The kedge was now over his chain, so Hugh moved both the anchors clear, and we shortened up on them. We had decided to make for Porto Vecchio, and eventually left the anchorage around 1300. Hugh had taken me to see an octopus hiding under a rocky ledge, but the creature wisely resisted Hugh's attempts to drag it out of there. We took the Pass de la Piantarella inside Ile Cavallo, and apart from the pass itself we were able to sail in the north easterly breeze. There was a chance that Maurice and Barbara would be coming south in Mathilda, so we initially thought we would have lunch in Rondinara, then move on. In the end we had sandwiches on the move, as we were hungry, so that by the time we had arrived in Rondinara we decided to stay there for the night.
A text message arrived from Sulaire, saying that Mathilda was on the way, but we were both asleep! I woke up to find Sulaire anchored nearby, with Mathilda beyond. Yet another barbeque was arranged, and Barbara, who had her son Damien visiting, set off for the camp site and the camp shop to procure some extra beefburgers. Mo had some vegetables already cooked up, so provided a pasta dish.
We set off after breakfast, as Sulaire's anchors were lying below us, and she wanted to move across the bay with Mathilda, to make the best of the wind which was now westerly. This gave us a down wind sail to Porto Vecchio, so we sailed off the wind as usual to keep our heavy blade jib as full as it could be. On our first tack out, we were crossed by a yacht motoring fast towards the south. It had appeared at first to be on a collision course, but it became clear that it would pass ahead a couple of boat lengths away. As it did so, we could see the stars and stripes, then realised it was a 'Cost a Packet' and cream, so could possibly be Ventana. As we crossed under her stern we could read the name, but shouts of 'Rob' and then calls on VHF16 brought no response! What were they up to, we wondered?
In Porto Vecchio, we anchored off the marina. Mo remembered where the Casino supermarket was, and we returned fully laden with supplies. The marina had refused to give us a password to the wifi system, and the jet skis were driving me crazy, so I was glad to be allowed off the boat to go to a bar to use their wifi. The beer seemed expensive at 7€, and I could not access the bank system, but managed to get e-mails and the grib file for the weather forecast. We had supper, and tried to work out how to get to Elba without a night sail, and before Tuesday morning, when strong winds from the south are expected.
There was no real solution to the dilemma: a night sail was inevitable, but little wind was expected until Monday evening. We motored over and anchored off the hotel Casadelmar, where the wifi had been open four years ago. Now you need a user name and password! After breakfast we motored out of Porto Vecchio, and stopped off the pleasant beach at San Ciprianu to wait for some wind. We had lunch, and then set off up the coast to Anse de Favone, about 5 miles south of Solenzara, where there is a small marina. The Corsican coastline along here is punctuated by sandy bays, the coast itself is very green, with maquis and pine trees, while the backdrop of craggy mountains completes the picture. Our bay had a small settlement at the mouth of a river, and there were some beach bars, ribs moored, and pedallos for hire. It was very quiet and pleasant all the same.
We spent a quiet morning. Mo prepared some bully beef stew that would serve us for supper, and a couple more besides. I tried to fix the problem with the battens in the 'new' mainsail: the originals have suffered by being stowed on the guard rails, while the set from the 'old' main were variously too long or too short. The battens are getting out of their boxes and causing damage to the sail. I will need to graft on some extensions with epoxy when time and space permits. We also got all the warps and other gear stowed ready for the trip.
We had lunch and set off at 1400 hrs as planned. There was a very light south easterly breeze that we managed to use for a while, until it became too light. To while away the time, I had retrieved a lure from Mike's fishing box, all the way from Australia, and set it up on the rod. Much to our surprise we caught a good sized mackerel, but we failed to get another to join him. We were diverging from the Corsican coast, and had to skirt around a military firing practice area. Fighter bombers screamed overhead on practice bombing runs, but stopped in the evening. For supper we had mackerel starter, followed by Mo's stew with rice. Mo felt able to go below to cook, as it was flat calm. Eventually, at 2200, a breeze kicked in, and we were able to start sailing again. There was no moon, but the stars were out, and a planet (I supposed) particularly bright. Briefly dolphins came and swam beside the boat: you could hear them 'breathing' and see the phosphorescent streaks as they dived under the boat. Then later it became quite busy, as ships passed by at relatively close quarters, constrained by the islands. The breeze died away again, and we were forced to motor. We were glad of the AIS facility on the 'open source' chart plotter (OpenCPN) that we are currently using for navigation that resolved the targets far better than our ancient radar.
At 0100, Mo came up on watch to relieve me, and we took advantage of the opportunity to put in a reef. We expected the breeze to increase and wanted to be ahead of the game. Mo in fact had to motor for a while, but by the time I came up again at 0600, we were approaching Elba, and the wind strength was increasing. The west end of Elba is mountainous (1018m), probably volcanic in origin, and dark grey clouds swirled around its summit. As we came under it influence, we had alternately stronger gusts, calms, and back-winds that caused involuntary but gentle gybes. As expected, on the run in to Protoferraio, eastwards across the north of the island where it was simply hilly, we had variable winds, and gusts to F6. We anchored in the west of the harbour with many other yachts, clear of the ferry berths.
The rest of the day was spent recovering, reading, and in my case messing about on the internet as I was now back in Italy and had access again.
We launched the dinghy in preparation for going ashore, but it was ominously cloudy. The wind had shifted from the south into the west, and the grib forecast was showing very heavy winds out of the Gulf de Lyon, which should fizzle out north of Corsica and in the region of Elba. It was strong enough, certainly into F6. We felt it best to stay on board, as although we were confident of our anchor we could not be sure of the other boats around us. It was as well we did, as a very heavy thunderstorm broke out. Water appeared at the roof hatch above the cabin table, and dripped down, and more water appeared on the front saloon curtains. We hope that the hatch leak is the only source, as the windows were replaced and sealed in last December. The water might have run down over the cabin roof lining to the front. Although the rain (the first we have had since May) eventually cleared, the wind continued to blow, so we remained on board.
The next day we did at last make it to shore. We left the dinghy on the wall in the inner harbour, which was more than half empty. There was a British boat there, and I asked the price. They had been charged 50€ for the night, with water and electricity extra. This was down from the high season rate of 100€. No wonder the harbour was empty, with so many yachts anchored off! These completely unaffordable rates deter boats who might otherwise patronise the shops and bars more readily.
Portoferraio was briefly the home of Napoleon Bonaparte in 1814, when he was exiled there. He only remained there less than a year before he became bored and escaped back to France to cause yet more trouble, culminating in his ultimate defeat at Waterloo in 1815. After that, he was sent to St. Helena in the South Atlantic where he ended his days. In Napoleon's time it was a walled and fortified town, and had several fortifications.
We walked into the main square, then back along the harbour as far as we could go, doubling back and climbing to the top of the cliff behind the town, where the road between the fortifications was walled in for protection, and punctuated by firing positions. We visited a museum attached to the Chiesa (church) del Misericordia, with Bonaparte exhibits, and paid to go into one of the fortresses, now occupied as residential property. Although I, as a senior citizen of the EU could have toured Napoleon's residence free, Mo was under the magic age, and neither of us had any i.d. on us. The fort on the top of the hill was undergoing reconstruction, with a tall crane towering over it, and so closed to the public.
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| Portoferairo, with its many forts | The old Genoese castle at the entrance to the harbour |
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| Napoleon occupied the pink house, centre, during his exile in 1814/5 | The back of Napoleon's house, and the attractively designed lighthouse |
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| A view of the harbour, which was almost empty of yachts possibly because of the 100€ per night charges in season | Taken inside one of the forts, now private residential property |
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| The lighthouse was said to be amongst the best designed in the Med | One of the steep 'streets': It must be a nightmare to drive around |
Once we had completed our tour, and somewhat exhausted from this first trip ashore, we were glad to stop at a restaurant for lunch. Afterwards we set off to find the Coop, to the west of the ferry berths. While we were shopping it once again started to rain, so I walked back for the dinghy in the rain while Mo waited for me at the supermarket, and then looked out for me from the entrance to the boat yard.
Overnight, there was another heavy thunderstorm. The wind had now swung to the north. We had taken a photo of one of the Moby ferries, that Mo thought would make a good photo for an e-card to Harry Platon for his birthday, so she composed that and sent it. Aside from the weather looking a bit dire, we were not sufficiently organised to get up and go, so spent another day hanging around, watching the ferries come and go, and reading.