Matt arrived on a Sunday. We picked him up in our fancy rental car, and managed to pack him, and all his belongings into the back of the large hatchback. Matt and I have been on many adventures throughout the years, mostly centered around motorcycles and suffering. He came down to Baja last winter to surf for a week or so, and has joined us on all our charter boat trips. We were happy to have him aboard KODA, but first the work had to be finished at the boatyard.
During the first two weeks of the service we hung around, ate pastries, and enjoyed some indoor climbing. For my birthday we decided to take a mini trip to Barcelona. We drove down the highway for three hours, and parked beneath our hotel. Having our Onewheels with us, we rode all around the city, enjoying the busy streets as a change from the relative quiet of the winter bound European coastlines.
A week more of work saw things relatively complete, except for a needed a rig tune. Our last day and night in La Grande Motte it rained and stormed. We were in the boat all day, watching the windows steam up and the water collect in puddles on the dock. That evening Matt and I put on our foul weather gear and walked to the boulangerie to get some bread and snacks. The proprietor, trying to close, gave us a free bag of assorted pastries on our way out the door. We then made our way over to the only open local restaurant and had a nice dinner, before taking the soggy walk back to the boat.
We got up early and were pulling out of the marina in the dark. As we motored out into the bay, some nice wind came up and we were soon underway with a full main and code 0. The others went back to bed, and I stood a cold watch in our full-length down coat, watching the boat glide effortlessly over the smooth sea and into the building dawn beginning to color the sky. We were headed east, away from our eventual goal of the Pacific, but towards some presumably interesting things.
Coming into the traffic separation scheme off the coast of Marseille, the wind died, and we were reduced to motoring. For the next 24 hours we struggled between sailing and motoring, using more fuel than we would have liked in our mission to get to Sanremo before Tuesday. Being on a sailboat at night while close to a textured coastline, like the French Riviera, and trying to sail in light and variable winds, is a frustrating and thankless exercise. We were all a bit annoyed, Kate and I with the conditions, and Matt doing an excellent job standing his first night watches ever, in challenging conditions. Nonetheless, there is something undeniably special and magical about being on a boat, at sea, at night. That only becomes more special when the engines can go quiet and the hulls ghost silently through the dark water, the ripples of their passing soon lost in the immensity of the sea.
After two nights in Sanremo our business was complete and we were heading to Corsica! We got up early again, and were out of the harbor with the sails up as the coast began catching the first light. We had a good amount of wind on the beam for the first 50 miles, and made good time. The seas were small, and KODA charged towards our destination. As the day went on the wind lightened and switched direction and we changed sails several times. A couple hours before sunset the mountains of Corsica pierced the sea, and began marching towards us. Closer, details were revealed; snow capped and sharp peaks giving way to deep canyons and rocky coastlines. The daylight surrendered to a full moon breaching the crest of the mountains. Around 9pm we motored into our anchorage, just south of the little village of Girolata. There was a gentle offshore breeze and we maneuvered using a satellite image until we were above a patch of sand. We dropped anchor, backed onto it, and went to sleep.
Morning found us in exactly the same position, always a happy circumstance. Light changes our surroundings, revealing red cliffs to every side. We pulled up anchor and began sailing in about three knots of wind around the corner. We made several tacks and jibes as the wind wheeled and backed all around us. Eventually it totally died and we motored the last mile and a half into a small defile in the rocky cliffs. We slowly approached the small beach and dropped anchor way too close to all the surrounding rocks. It felt like the smallest swing would send us up onto the shore. This was not the case and over the next 24 hours we swung every direction. From the boat shore looks very close, but from land the boat was a small speck in the bay, clearly very far from any menacing rock.
We went for a swim, cleaned the boat, and Kate and Matt went ashore for a run and a bike ride, respectively. I stayed aboard and did some more chores. It was a cloudless sunny day and the sea was a transparent mirror. Small fish swam around. The sand bottom alternated with patches of sea grass. The red granite cliffs towered above the small, deserted beach. We spent a quiet night, and woke up to some swell swinging in and rolling the boat around. We knew there was a northwesterly storm coming, accompanied by a large westerly swell. We needed to get around the corner. Tacking out of the bay took longer than we thought, and the wind and sea continued to build. I began to freak out.
We decided to forego the anchorage we had thought of heading to, as the weather map showed it taking the brunt of the wind, and it didn’t seem to be as protected from the swell as I would have liked. Kate called the marina at Ajaccio, but they closed at 5, and we were still quite far away. Looking at the map we identified a nice looking bay, not too far away, and set course for that. The waves were big, and smashing into the cliffs, making areas that were marked as anchorages completely untenable. Still nervous, we sailed into our bay, with the swell continuing to provide long surfs. As we got close we brought the sails in and turned towards the farthest north east corner of the bay, hoping to escape the wrapping swell. The area was packed with unused mooring balls, and we picked our way through to an unused patch of sand. We dropped anchor and backed down on it hard, making the bridal sing and send drops of water dancing off the tensioned lines. The anchor didn’t budge, and I was yet again thankful for the extra money we put into our oversized Ultra anchor. The storm began to seem a little less scary.
Matt and I took the dingy into the little concrete wall that served as a sort of of quay for the small town. We tied up to a weathered, rough lump of masonry with some rebar sticking out of it. Walking up onto shore towards the small cafe, we were greeted by a couple locals who seemed happy enough to see us. after being reassured that both our boats were in safe places, and telling a small part of our life stories, one of the guys gave us a ride into town, and dropped us at the bar. Since this is still France the bar also had a wide assortment of cakes and cookies. Reflecting on the fact that it was Valentine’s Day, we bought an extravagant and extraordinary monstrosity of a cake and put it in the bag, along with a selection of fresh cookies. Then we had a couple drinks and wandered off to the grocery store.
Later, on the boat, we watched some tv on our projector while eating slices of monster cake. I thought about the day a bit and the transition from being at sea and uncertain of the immediate future, to a safe harbor with a well dug in anchor. I slept well that night.
In the morning the sea was a sheet of glass, and Kate and Matt went to shore to do exercise, and I sat on the boat, being lazy in the sun. When they returned we took the dingy out with a foil board and practiced foiling behind the boat in the golden afternoon of the quiet bay.
The next morning we were under sail again, and caught the morning offshores in our large gennaker, giving us good speed across the flat sea towards a new anchorage. We spent a night there and a night at the next one, both remote little bays sheltered from the prevalent north wind behind rearing headlands. We went for walks up these headlands to explore the Genovese watch towers that were found at the head of every bay. We went for very brief swims, and enjoyed the settled weather.
Eventually we started running a bit low on food, and our diesel situation was becoming something we thought about. We hadn’t refueled yet in the new year, which we thought was pretty good, as we had covered close to two thousand miles. With thoughts of resupply in our heads we turned on the motors against the contrary wind and motored the eight or so remaining miles into Ajaccio, the capital of Corsica and the birthplace of Napoleon. We rolled into the marina, tied up, and spent a large amount of money on liquid dinosaurs for our magic blue propulsion units. Then we headed up around the corner and anchored directly below the city walls. It was the first time we had anchored directly in a big city and was a bit disquieting to hear and see all the city noises and sights directly outside of our boat. We spent one night there, in the city, and ate, drank and resupplied. Then, in the morning we set sail and tacked out of the bay before enjoying a wonderful downwind sleigh ride to our next bay, Cala d’Orzu. This was an amazing spot, and we set the anchor into a perfect sandy bottom with plenty of room in every direction.
We stayed at Orzu for two nights, foiling, hiking, swimming and enjoying our leisure in the perfect surroundings. We were experiencing our first few weeks of truly aimless wandering. We had nowhere to be and didn’t have to get there by any particular time. Our next solid engagement was in Greece in June, leaving us plenty of time to get lost and enjoy being at sea. Our only real concern was the weather, and we spent probably an hour each day going through the various models, checking and cross checking the oracles living inside our computers for direction.
After ten pretty pleasant days cruising the west coast of Corsica, we observed a change in the weather coming. The prevailing wind was due to shift from east to west, so we thought it a good idea to run around the bottom of Corsica and hide on the east side for a few days. We left Orzu and sailed down the coast, planning to spend one night near Bonifacio. This didn’t work out, as the seas were larger than we thought they would be, and were wrapping into our chosen anchorage. Scrapping that plan we set a course all the way around the bottom, struggling with some deep wind angles. We rounded the last obstacle and changed course to the north east, aiming at a nice little cove. The sea went flat behind the island chain we had rounded, and our new angle powered up the boat nicely. We found ourselves flying along at between 14 and 16 knots, with very little movement from the ocean. An excellent couple hours of sailing led us into a wonderfully protected bay; Baie de Rondinara. Another perfect sandy bottom, and we left the boat to go hike around on land, looking for either a restaurant or supermarket. Nothing was to be found, all closed for the season.
Running a bit low on supplies we pulled up anchor in the morning and headed for Porto Vecchio. The wind was light and we made slow progress north before rounding the headland into the bay. Then the wind began blowing directly in our face and we tacked up the narrow bay. I was impressed with how well the boat behaved in the light upwind conditions. Coming closer to the main town, we were alarmed to see 11 sailboats beached on the shore in various states of decay. This did not give us an overwhelming faith in the anchorage, which we already knew to be a soft muddy bottom- not the best.
We anchored without much problem, and went to shore in teams to resupply, always leaving one person on the boat against an unexpected event. Town was alright, and we were able to get groceries in a large market, as well as enjoy a nice meal in a small, back alley restaurant. Later in the afternoon a large monohull came motoring up the bay and anchored in front of us. They had been cruising the Med all winter, and we were the third boat they had come across. While we appreciate the uncrowned nature of the islands right now, it seemed like they were ready for some company. In the morning we made one more town run as the wind gusted to over 35 knots, and then raised a little napkin of sail and made our way out of the bay towards a picturesque little bay just to the north. Much happier in our new, scenic and sandy anchorage, we made some dinner, watched some tv and went to sleep.
Our new spot was great, and we began to foil with the wing. We still are not very good, so the dingy is a great tool for getting us back upwind, as we inevitably drift down. We are all making progress, and I had my first sustained rides up on foil. This was exciting. The weather was sunny, the wind was constant, and our surroundings were secure and beautiful. It is much easier to have fun when you are not worried about the boat. After two nights here we were ready to go, and the weather looked like it was ready to cooperate.
We arose with the sun, and pulled up anchor in a very slight offshore wind. Raising the large gennaker, we turned south and began making 5 knots towards Italy. The next stage of our trip would take us to Sardinia, the Maddalena Islands and then south, with the hope of warmer and more settled weather.
