Corsica

Caro S

Sep 3, 2023 • 14 min read

Living the dream

1st to 7th August 2024

We arrived in Corsica on 1st August 2023 after a pretty decent sail from Porquerolles (Sailing to Corsica (librasail.uk)). The overnight sail to Corsica reminded me how far we have come this summer. Over the English Channel, through the waterways - the canals and the mighty rivers Seine, Saone and Rhone, all the way to the Mediterranean Sea. The only downside was thanks to Brexit us Brits can only spend 90 days in every 180 in the Schengen area so annoyingly we needed to go home, whether we wanted to or not, to accrue some more time here. On the upside, our first grandchild was due in August so we would have wanted to return home anyway.

If you've read my previous post you'll know that we intended to stay in one of the marinas in Ajaccio, but they were both full to bursting. This meant that we had to anchor in the bay nearby. The ground took the anchor well and there were quite a few other boats there so this was fine.

A lot of leisure sailors seem to be quite nervous about the whole process of anchoring but if you have an electric windlass and have been properly taught what to do it's very straightforward. There are two key points.

Firstly you have to point the boat into what's called the 'dominant element'. In tidal waters this is normally the tide, in non tidal waters it's the wind. Local conditions will affect this rule of thumb but you can usually work out what to do by looking at the position of nearby boats.

The second thing is just a matter of dropping the anchor to the sea floor with sufficient chain hold everything in place. The rule of thumb is to put out at least three times as much chain as the depth of water, so if you're in 10m of water you need 30m of chain (or chain and rope).

Of course you also need to make sure that there are no hazards, usually either shallow water or other boats, within the radius in which the boat may circle from the anchor. As I've mentioned before you must make sure you aren't over anyone else's anchor or chain. As long as you pay attention, the anchor digs into the seabed, the weight of chain gives stability and the boat stays where it's supposed to be. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Where we live in England we are blessed with lots of beautiful tranquil anchorages so we have had lots of experience. The absence of a tide is a novelty here in the Med. Back home your boat sits with the flow of the tide pulling the anchor deep and holding the boat steady. Then, six hours later your boat changes direction with the tide so you have to keep an eye on it in case something comes adrift. In non tidal waters you set the anchor then put the engine into reverse to help it dig in. No swinging, though you might move around a bit if the wind direction shifts.

If in doubt, look what the other boats are doing

Once we were safely at anchor in Ajaccio I made a light lunch. From time to time I heard a deafening roar of engines very nearby. I was too tired to pop my head outside but Igor was on deck. They were firefighters' scooper planes, coming in low beside us and filling their water tanks for firefighting duties. The ground is bone dry at the moment so it's a good thing that their skills are kept sharp.

After we'd eaten we took the opportunity to catch a few hours sleep and were both knocked out until around 6.30 pm. We needed fuel as all the motoring we'd done had used a lot. There was a garage within easy walking distance on the shore. Igor inflated the tender and we set off the couple of hundred metres to the beach so that he could fill our diesel canisters. I stayed by the tender to make sure it didn't float away, digging my bare toes in the sand and enjoying the scenery and the low, late afternoon sunshine.

Once back on the boat we ate yet more tinned chicken tikka masala. The anchorage was sheltered and quiet and we were both sorely in need of our beauty sleep so we had an early night.

Next morning we woke up, had a dip in the sea and then breakfast, and were contemplating moving on when a gendarmerie launch came over to us and told us we couldn't anchor where we were. Apparently we were too close to the place where the scooper planes come it. There were no signs on the shore or on our marine chart but equally there was no point in arguing. We raised our anchor and moved about 40 metres closer to the Charles Ornano Marina moorings as instructed, a safe distance apparently. All the other boats, mostly nearer the scooping area, moved on as well.

About half an hour later we had another visitor. This time it was the police launch. They told us we couldn't anchor here either. We explained that the gendarmes had said it was OK and that we were on the point of leaving anyway which seemed to satisfy them as they left us alone after that. Around 11.30 we turned the engine on and made ready to lift the anchor.

When there are two of you on the boat one person deals with the engine and the other controls dropping or raising the anchor. I always used to be in charge of the anchor, but then we got a new anchor for our trip to the Med. It's a lot pointier and more mobile than the old one. This means that when you lift it you have to be very careful that it doesn't swing about and hit the bow of the boat. Our old one would just roll onto its bracket with no fuss but the new one needs a bit more help, so now Igor is on anchor duty when it's raised. He is strong enough to put it safely in place whereas I struggle.

We started the procedure as usual, Igor pressing the button to bring the anchor chain up while I occasionally gave the engine a burst in forward gear. So far so good but then I became aware that nothing was happening up front. Igor let the chain out and we tried again. Same story, the anchor wasn't lifting and we were bobbing around in a way that suggested we would be staying put. Igor put his goggles on, jumped in the water and had a look.

It turned out that our anchor chain had become entangled with a concrete block and chain that must have previously been used to hold a big ship's mooring buoy. It was about 10m down, far too deep to be untangled on a free dive. We didn't know what else to do so called the nearby marina for help. The woman who answered was unconcerned but helpful. 'A diver will be with you in 30 minutes and it'll cost 150 euros'.

In situations like this the only thing to do is to have a cup of tea, so we did. We had our lunch as well, because as everyone knows the quickest way to get someone to come as soon as possible is to start eating. It didn't quite work this time, we actually had time to finish our meal, but sure enough around 45 minutes later a middle aged man in a wetsuit pulled up in his little boat and asked us what the problem was. He gave us instructions on what to do then went to the front of the boat, put on his fins, mask and air cylinder and dived in. 10 minutes later we were free and he was 150 euros better off.

We set off around 1pm and raised the sails. I checked my emails once we were underway, only to see a message that I'd won on the Premium Bonds. Guess how much? Yep, £150. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away (don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, we were still ahead).

Since we'd left Ajaccio I was fretting about where we could leave the boat when we went back home. We had intended leaving it in a marina there but there was no room and even if a space became available it would be incredibly expensive. I'd looked at the marina's website and seen a monthly rate which was very reasonable and couldn't understand why the going rate seemed to be five or six times more money. I looked again and saw that I'd been looking at the winter rate. Oops.

Igor did some research while we sailed and suggested I call Porto Pollo, a small marina in a bay not too far from Ajaccio. I spoke to the harbourmaster, Jacques, and thank heavens he said they would have a space for us, though we would have to be at anchor for a night or two. I felt that I could relax.

We sailed for about an hour then the wind dropped so we motored until around 17.30 when we were able to raise the sails again. We finally reached the anchorage at Campo Moro at 1830. It was very busy. We found a spot to drop our anchor but a nearby boat asked us to move away as we'd be fouling his chain. Fair enough. The second location was better and by 1900 we were having a pre dinner swim in the clear blue water.

It was an idyllic spot despite all the other people there. We had an extra glass of wine once we'd eaten, admiring the scenery. This wasn't pure self indulgence, we knew that we'd be leaving the boat in a few days time so it was important that we ate or drank all our perishables. That was the reason why we also ate a lot of cheese after dinner.

The bay is surrounded by steep wooded slopes, and as it got dark we saw a massive full moon rising from behind them. Truly a magical place. The night was very quiet and we slept well.

We didn't get up early on 3rd and had a leisurely breakfast and a swim before we raised the anchor. No intrusive police today, though the yellow planes had been practicing in a corner of the bay.

It wasn't too hot either, comfortably in the mid 20s C. We set off around 1110 and within 15 minutes, once we'd cleared the anchorage, we were sailing. Everything was just right. There was wind, not too much, in the right direction and the sea was fairly flat. Just over an hour later we were in the anchorage by Porto Pollo. When I dropped the anchor the water was so clear I could see it taking hold on the seabed.

Porto Pollo was fantastic. Jacques speaks great English and was incredibly helpful. He told us that there might be a mooring available the next day, Friday, and if not then definitely we could have one on Monday. We breathed a sigh of relief. The cost would be less than half what we'd have been charged in Ajaccio.

On the Friday Jacques told us that we could move to the mooring. It seemed very secure and he assured us we would be safe from the Mistrals. It was pretty windy and the boat wasn't still for the whole time we were on it, but as it was just rolling the dreaded seasickness wasn't an issue.

We took the opportunity to explore the tiny town. There was an excellent bakers plus a Spar, along with several restaurants that we didn't get to try. The Spar (and most of the other shops too) close for an extended lunchbreak from 1-4. Lucky shop workers, too bad if you're hungry. Mind you if I was that close to this beach I'd want a few hours to enjoy it too.

Now it was just a matter of making plans to go home and waiting. The route was to take the daily bus at 10.00am on Sunday from Porto Pollo to Ajaccio. From there we would catch the overnight ferry to Nice, then fly back to the UK.

There was one last element of the journey - how would we get from the mooring to the shore? We didn't want to use our tender as we needed to pack it away safely. Jacques came to the rescue again. He asked a friend of his who had the mooring next to ours if he could give us a lift, and the answer was yes.

As always Igor kept an eye on the weather forecast. More strong winds were on the way. Our final night on the mooring was even livelier than the previous ones. It was hard to sleep. Apart from the rolling there was the noise, wind in the rigging, fenders bashing the sides and every so often a loud bang where we were propelled into the mooring buoy. Luckily it's soft plastic so no damage, just noise.

On Sunday morning we were up bright and early, making sure the boat was clean and tidy before we left. At 9am the neighbour arrived in his tiny tender. He had several rubbish bags too, so along with our own rubbish and our rucksacks there wasn't much space. We bumped over the waves, my glasses coated in seawater by the time we arrived. The neighbour has promised to keep an eye on the boat as well, he runs a charter company so is there all the time. Very reassuring.

Libra will be waiting, hanging on the mooring buoy...

Next was the bus to Ajaccio. It was due at 10.10 but we'd been warned it could be early or it might not arrive until 10.45 am. We got there around 9.45. We waited. We walked to Spar for a drink of water but it was closed so we bought one in the tabac by the bus stop.

We waited. By 10.15 we were wondering if it would arrive. By 10.20 we were considering calling a taxi. Not long after that the bus arrived, well it was more of a minibus than a bus, and the fare was only about 4.50 euros each so we couldn't complain.

The route took us across the island, up hills, through farmland and the occasional village.

It hardly stopped, there were only about 5 passengers including us. The views were spectacular. It took over an hour to reach Ajaccio.

Yesterday the ferry company had informed us that due to the weather we wouldn't be leaving from Ajaccio but from Bastia. We had wondered how to get there, the only public transport was a very slow and scenic railway. Thankfully the ferry company laid on a bus at 8pm from the Ajaccio ferry port to Bastia. We took the opportunity to do some sightseeing while we waited.

First stop was the house where Napoleon was born. I preferred our visit to Monet's house.

This guy gets everywhere on Corsica (the one on the left)

After this we went to a restaurant by the waterside and had some lunch.

It was very hot and our disturbed night was making us sleepy. We set off walking to an old fort on top of a hill and found a wonderful leafy tree with a stone bench underneath along the way. It would have been rude not to lie down and have a nap.

Once we felt better we carried on to the fort. It was full of slightly pretentious art galleries. Make art not war! We climbed to the viewing post but it was full of people and the stairs felt dangerous. I fell off a step, when I checked later I had a bruise six inches round on my calf. The worst part was so many people saw me do it.

We had a wander round town to find some snacks to eat on the ferry and ended up sitting on a bench by the coach station. A van nearby was selling wood fired pizzas. The longer we sat there the less appetising our snacks seemed and we finally gave in. Melted cheese wins every time, doesn't it?

We bought toasties and ate them in the bus station while people turned up to catch the coach. It left promptly at 8pm for the two hour drive to Bastia. The woman in the seat in front of me coughed deeply all the way. I wished I'd brought a mask with me.

The ferry was waiting for us when we arrived and we had a very comfortable cabin.

It was a pity we were woken at 5am, I could have done with an extra hour or so in that lovely bed after the last couple of disturbed nights. At 6am we were in Nice.