Things do get better but not always
27/03/2006 Girolata Corsica
We had arrived in Corsica, Girolata was a lovely quiet anchorage, with one other boat, anchored fore and aft, and obviously packed up for the winter, and a rib tied to the jetty at the head of the bay. In clear waters over a sandy bottom we dropped our 15kg Bruce, watching it drop to the bottom, I motored astern asking Sara to tell me if it was holding, she asked me how she would know. Although I had anchored before, even with Sara on board she had never been at the sharp end to see what happens. There followed a quick exchange of information, and I tried reverse once more. Yes its tight, I went forward and was told it came tight then went slack again, a further exchange of information. Sara went back to the helm, reversed, the chain started to come then went slack, a further exchange of information about giving it some berries when in reverse. At this stage a local in a rib came past and told us that the wind that night was forecast to be strong and coming from the South East, so we would need to relay our anchor. I pulled it up and we re-laid it. We were tired and it was unbelievably hot, our fleecies and sailor suites were removed and shorts and t-shirts were donned as the decks were sluiced with warm seawater. The children wanted to go to the beach which they could see less than 200 meters away, but that would involve getting the dinghy pumped up and in the water, and by the time we had tied up after our journey we were too tired. Instead we bobbed to our anchor and felt happy and watched the setting sun bring out the shadows and contrasts on the surrounding hills.

That night was a bit disturbed, as it was our first night at anchor, so both Sara and I kept waking up and taking turns to check how we were lying, which was rather difficult to gauge as there was no moon, and we were swinging on the anchor to the alternate forces of wind and the slight swell coming round the headland. Fortunately some of the houses on shore had lights on, and I could orientate myself by the castle on top of the hill silhouetted against the stars. Eventually I figured that the bottom was sandy if we did drag and touch it should not do too much harm, plus if while laying in my bunk I could feel the boat rocking we were not aground.

27/03/06 We woke up not too refreshed from our nights sleep, we examined our location, we appeared slightly further in than we had been, we decided we might have dragged slightly so re-laid the anchor at 11:00, although not convinced with its holding, by now the children really wanted to go to the beach, we promised to go after lunch. The lunchtime weather forecast promised strong winds in the afternoon, the beach run was cancelled. At 14:00 we concluded that we had moved, and once more re-laid the anchor. 16:00 despite having over 30 meters of anchor chain out we were still dragging, I undid the anchor chain from the warp, refastened the chain onto the 22kg delta anchor, retrieved the 15kg Bruce anchor and dropped the delta, this time there was no doubt, engine full astern the anchor chain rose out from the sea bed and stretched tight. Once more we sat in our boat watching the sun etc, but this time confident that the anchor was holding.

28/03/06 At last we went ashore, and went for a short walk to try and find a church we could see from the boat, we never did find the church, but we found a secluded beach, where the children swam,

29/03/06 We went for another walk this time towards the Scandola National park with Phoebe and Nick being excited about doing a real hike. As we walked surrounded by the perfumes released by sun warmed coastal plants, we had fantastic views down onto little sandy coves and back down the gulf towards the open sea. There were fascinating plants growing wild all around us, we brushed past curry plants growing wild, and stopped to crush leaves to let the children get the different smells. Sara saw a lizard which the children were fascinated by, Sara suggested I should try and catch it so that Phoebe and Nick could see it more clearly, while I was thinking about how this might be done, Sara pointed out the snake which was moving towards the lizard. It was an olive green colour, thinner than my little finger, and about 12 to 18 inches long. The lizard picked up the snakes presence and shot across the path between Phoebe and myself, I was worried that if the snake followed the lizard Phoebe might get a fright, and might fall off the path, I told Sara to move Phoebe back out of the way. Unfortunately the snake did not follow the lizard, and Phoebe did not see the snake. We crossed some streams and found Narniaesque overgrowth, and as you moved into the overgrowth the sounds of the sea and wind vanished to be replaced by bird calls and the sound of trickling streams. We placed a rock each on a cairn that had been started, and saw a bull on the other side of the gorge. Further progress got harder as Phoebes excellent imagination started playing up, the snake was now the size of a python, and the bull was a fighting bull that was bound to charge us. On the return to Dreamcatcher we watched a pair of large birds flying backwards and forwards, seeming to gather nest materials, Nicholas was certain they were Fish Eagles, so Fish Eagles they remain. We had put the outboard on ‘Bob’ before we left, so instead of going straight back to Dreamcatcher, we motored the dinghy round to our beach of yesterday, and discovered the problems of beaching a dinghy with small waves. The children stripped off and went playing in the sea. If getting onto the beach was awkward getting off was a tad more problematic. I got everyone into Bob more or less dry, then I pushed off out into deep water and started the outboard, then Phoebe pointed out the hats and shoes still on the beach. Returned to the beach, Sara jumped out and got wet, she got wetter still when she relaunched us, deep water engine on, Phoebe points out that there is still a least one shoe on the beach, repeat as above. Third time lucky all back on board Dreamcatcher, wet bottoms all round. Things must be getting better, Phoebe went to her cabin and presented me with a badge emblazoned with ‘Superstar’, it gave me a nice warm feeling.

30/03/06 I had been reading Famous Five to the kids, and Phoebe liked the sound of swimming from a boat, so we took Bob towards the beach to try. Phoebe didn’t like going over the side and clung fiercely on to the side in panic. After a bit of a paddle and swim in the shallows we had to take Nick back as he was getting too cold. I rigged the fishing rod, without much hope, as I had seen no signs of fish in the anchorage. The sweetcorn baited hook was dropped in the water, and bits of sweetcorn thrown in around it, and sat down to enjoy the sun shine, then I noticed the sweetcorn was disappearing, I reeled in we had a fish, which snapped the line. We spent the rest of the afternoon unsuccessfully trying to lure or see another fish.

01/04/06 Cargese Corsica
Recharged we decided to move on towards Cargese, the left over porridge was thrown into the sea, no sooner had it hit the surface when it was surrounded by about 20 meal size fish gulping it down greedily. The fishing rod had by now been packed away. 10:00 the anchor was broken out, it was buried up to its fluke, and we were off once more. Once more we were accompanied by dolphins, as we sailed down this magnificent coastline. Old semaphore towers on the headlands, step mountains and cliffs plunging into the sea, occasional off shore rocks breaking the surface serving as reminders not to be too lazy in navigation. Note from the log book:13:35 Rounding Punta Di Puntigliane snowcapped mountains behind forehills- Beautiful sight.
I still find it hard to believe that we are doing this, although it seems a natural thing to do, it is difficult to get to grips with the fact that we are sailing off Corsica being accompanied by dolphins with magnificent views.
On route we tried to explain about April Fools Day to the children, they are not really old enough, but we had an amusing journey. We arrive at Cargese at 15:00 to find the Harbourmaster had shut up for the weekend, we have our first and second attempt at mooring bows to picking up tailed lines, with only 2 people this needs more practice. Sara went ashore with the children while I tidied up the boat, Sara returned the shops were up the hill and the children were paddling in the harbour, so while I got the children out of the harbour, Sara went to find the shops. After spending some time on a beach next to the entrance to the small harbour, we started walking up the hill to try and find Sara, who then appeared in the passenger seat of a van, the supermarket did free delivery if you purchased more than 40 Euro’s, very easy to do when stocking a boat, but it is a service we will look out for in future, especially when buying tins or drinks.


02/04/06 Ajaccio Corsica
We walked round the town in the morning, the bakery had a promotion that involved children colouring in cardboard fishes in return for a prize. We bought some pencils and Phoebe conscientiously coloured hers in, Nick did his best, the prize was to have your colouring in displayed in the window, and a soft toy fish with fabric pens to colour that in for yourself, Phoebe’s was coloured in within 5 minutes of being back on board.
12:30 We slipped our lines and headed towards Ajaccio. We had a bit of wind aft but if we wanted to get anywhere before nightfall we needed to motor. As we cut through the passage inside of the Isle de Sanguinaires, we watched the depth gauge fall to 6 meters and then we were through, and got a good wind on the beam, Sails were raised and we briefly had 6 knots before dropping back to between 2 or 3 knots. We sailed the last bit slowly finally mooring up at 18:30, mooring onto a finger pontoon seemed hard work, dropping the anchor is a lot quicker and easier. In the harbour there was a fantastic looking red hulled boat, the following day we were invited aboard by the owner, she was a Hilas 46, absolutely beautiful to look at both inside and out, and according to the owner able to cruise at 8 to 9 knots, I went back onboard Dreamcatcher with a dreamy look, and spent most of the day commenting to Sara about just how lovely the boat was.

03/04/06 to 08/04/06 Our overnight stop got extended a bit, we felt we were close enough to Sardinia to do some essential maintenance work, we still had to fix the aft head, the outlet pipe of which had been blocked since the canals, and the World Rally Championship was due to roll in to town at the weekend, with the service area directly across the harbour from us, I felt Nick might like the spectacle, and I was sure the weather was going to be a bit worse than the forecasters were saying. The pipe was eventually cleared after dismantling the cupboard, the anti-siphon loop, and removing the baby wipe that had got jammed in the loop. In the process we discovered that the valve on the anti-siphon valve was blocked and hadn’t been working, which probably explained why the toilet would occasionally back flood. Most days we wondered round the WRC service area, and looked at the cars and got some posters, which the kids stuck up all over the inside of the boat. There are two mariners in Ajaccio, Port Charles Ornano, with harbour side restaurants and bars and large motor boats, and Port Tino Rossi next to the old part of town, and the market, we chose the later. The daily market in the car park at the entrance to the harbour, was fantastic, full of local specialties, with friendly stall holders who were happy for you to sample their foods. The children never went in without someone giving them biscuits or cakes to try. When we decided it was time to leave, Sara went to pay the bill which we expected to be about 140 Euros, and was shocked to asked for 228 Euros. The difference was told that the price we had seen did not include tax, this did not seem right. Sara went back to query and pay, and then came back, because the Harbour master did not have any change. I went back to pay the balance, and discovered that we had been looking at the wrong tariff, however the price for one week was only 222 Euros, I queried this with the harbourmaster, and was informed that the price was indeed 228 Euros for six nights, and I could not pay 222 Euros as I had only stayed for six days not for a week. When I informed him that in that case I would stay for an extra night, the bills was amended to 222 Euros, and we elected to stay one more night as we had not quite finished all our jobs, and there was going to be a firework display that night, although I was tempted to leave anyway and I can imagine him chasing after us demanding that we either have to stay one more night or that we pay him another 6 Euros, this is bureaucracy gone wrong. The firework display took place that night on a floating raft anchored up 100 meters from Dreamcatcher, it was fantastic having the fireworks going off apparently right overhead.

09/04/05 We refueled with 128 litres of Diesel, which was expensive at 1.28E/l, our fuel consumption since leaving the canals had risen to 2.8l/hr, which reflected the higher engine speed used on open water, but it was way down on what we had used before we entered the canals, which was due to our better understanding of getting the best out of the engine. We now operate the engine at between 1700 and 2000 rpm, which gives us between 5-5.5 knots, increasing the engine speed gives only marginal increases in speed, for a lot more noise and a heavier fuel consumption. We were heading towards Bonifacio which was going to be long day. All the guide books warned about the evil reputation of the Bonifacio Straits, the gap between Corsica and Sardinia which funnels the winds and increases their strength, and can make passages through dangerous. We had picked a good day there was hardly any wind and motoring was the order of the day. As we approached Point De Senetosa, the wind picked up quickly and we had large swells caused by the wind and a rapidly shelving bottom, the waves started getting foam crests. I could not tell if this was just local or continued all the way down to Bonifacio, as I kept staring forward the horizon changed from the occasional foam crest to a continuous line of foam crests, it was now 14:00, it was still another 4 to 5 hours until Bonifacio, it was time to turn around. We headed for the anchorage of Campomoro. We passed the rocks at the entrance and headed towards the anchorage. Trying to avoid getting too close to the shore we let the anchor go in 15 meters, it did not hold, with 30 meters of chain and the delta on, we could not recover the anchor. The windlass did not have a gypsy, and would not hold the chain, so we motored round the bay dragging our hook, trying to find shallower water, as we knew that we could recover it from depths of 10 meters or less. Two other boats came into the anchorage and anchored and watched us going back and forth, until we finally managed to retrieve our ground tackle, by which time I was exhausted, the seat on the dolphin nose had come loose with me sitting on it and it had jolted my back, I did not have enough energy left to recover the anchor again if it did not set, so we cut our losses and headed to the marina at Propriano. On leaving the anchorage we were joined briefly by three dolphins, their visits, no matter how brief, always bring a touch of excitement. As we got closer to the town, set against the hills, with sweeping deserted beaches, we could smell the scent of the plants on the shore. The town had an Italianesque look to its buildings, the marina side was crammed with Gelateria’s and the names above the shops seemed more Italian than French. We moored up at 19:00, alongside a floating raft, which was itself moored to the jetty, and was obviously half finished. Looking at the forecasts for the next day it was mixed weather, low winds in the morning and early afternoon, rising to strong winds in the evening, if we left early the next morning we should be in Bonifacio by 14:00.


10/04/06 Propriano Corsica
I woke up to a windless day, with mill pond seas, with Sara and the children
asleep, I cast off the lines and headed out of the harbour by 07:00.
08:00 we were off Campomoro, we were making good time and were on schedule, off Point De Senetosa, we were again confronted by swells on the starboard bow, which created an uncomfortable yawing. The weather forecasts started coming in over the VHF, they were forecasting Force 8 to 10, in the Bonifacio Straits that evening. We should be tucked up comfortably in Bonifacio by then, but it was concerning, looking at the GPS our ground speed had dropped from 5.6knots to 3.6. An expression came to mind “If in doubt, turn about” We headed back to Propriano, we had a good sail back with over 6 knots on the log at times. After circling the harbour, and going out a couple of times we finally moored up back where we had started from at 14:30. The harbour master who was now at work, made us move to another spot, and with the assistance of the harbour master and two other members of staff, we finally tied up stern to at 15:00. That evening and during the night the promised wind arrived, and we were harbour bound for the next two days, with spray from the waves coming over the top of the lighthouse.

11/04 to 12/04/06 We watched a couple of sailing boats go out, they were heeled right over as they left the harbour entrance with considerable lee way, and it seemed touch and go whether they would get out, but they did. We were visited by a rather officious group of customs officers, who despite being informed that we had been in France for eight months and had been visited by customs on four previous occasions, wanted to know what we were doing about schooling our children, how much money we had on board and if we had anything to declare. Bored customs officers have a high nuisance value, possibly the best course of action when you see them enter your area, is to get off your boat and go ashore, or make your boat look and sound as if no one is on board, as they seem to ignore you if it does not look like any one is onboard.

13/04/06 St Theresa di Gallura Sardinia
We set off once more this time towards either Bonifacio or Saint Teresa di Gallura which ever we could get to easiest dependent upon the wind and sea state. As we turned the corner and came out of the shelter of the breakwater at the entrance to the harbour, we began to encounter swells, not the usual small short swell that are the dominant swells in the Mediterranean, but large rolling swells, like folds in the earth, that rose above my head as I stood at the helm. The swells were coming in straight onto Dreamcatchers nose, and with no wind to talk of , we headed out rising and falling, as we rode over the tops, occasionally getting bounced by bigger waves coming at a different at a slightly different angle to the others. I kept looking at my crew for signs of sickness, or concern of which there were none. I was concerned that the swells might not die down and that we would struggle to turn the corner at the end of the bay, as it shallowed quickly from over 1000 meters to 40 meters, and we believed that this had contributed to the uncomfortable seas on the previous occasions when we had tried to head south. We had decided to head further off shore before we turned, four miles off shore the swells had shown no signs of abating, although by now I believed we should be able to turn and run before the swells, all the way down to Saint Teresa, I was struggling to find a smooth enough pattern to the waves, to allow us to turn without getting broadside to one of the bigger waves, eventually I saw a wave pattern that might allow enough time to turn, and with a call to everyone to hold tight, I hauled the wheel to port, and increased the engine revs. Anxiously I watched the next big wave coming as we started to turn, slowly initially then the bow started paying off more rapidly and we were through, with the next big wave giving Dreamcatcher with a big shove from behind, lifting her stern up and rolling away underneath us. With the waves now under our stern we headed towards Saint Teresa. Just before we made the turn a helicopter heading down the coast had spotted us out to sea, and had turned towards us and had come and hovered behind us, why they did this I do not know, if they thought we might be in distress the sight of two children wearing lifejackets and waving excitedly while playing with their toys in the cockpit, must have allayed their fears, as after a couple of minutes they turned and headed off towards Bonifacio. We finally passed pointe Aquila about one mile off, and found ourselves having to alter our course to a more southerly one putting the swells on to our starboard quarter in order to miss a cluster of rocks called les Moines which are two and half miles off shore. We got used to the feeling of being picked up and shoved forward, with our view changing between the mountains behind Capo Testo on Sardinina and sea as we alternately rose up on the waves then slid down into the troughs. The children played happily in the cockpit, and occasionally got too boisterous when we would stop them worried that they might get hurt if they fell. The children would stop listen then within five minutes would be doing the same thing all over again. Eventually Phoebe found the best and must fun place to sit was inside the ships bucket on the cockpit floor, where she would bounce around. When we were half way over, I took Phoebe out on to deck with me to do an important job, changing the courtesy ensign to the Italian one. After we had removed the French and hoisted our new host countries ensign, Phoebe and I remained sat on the coachroof, where I was giving a big cuddle from Phoebe. I asked her why I was getting such a big cuddle, and I was told that she had some big cuddles inside her, which she was keeping for special occasions, and this was one of those occasions. Before returning to the cockpit, I asked Phoebe if she wanted to stay on the deck or come back with me, she wanted to stay, so I left her on the coachroof, where she sat with a look about her that communicated her pleasure and pride in being treated like a responsible person. We left her on the coachroof for a while then Sara went forward for a cuddle and was joined by Nick, we then left the two children on the coachroof as we sailed in to Saint Teresa. We entered Saint Teresa trying to determine where we should moor, we had decided that after our last attempt at stern to mooring, and Dreamcatchers reluctance to respond to the helm in reverse unless a lot of way was built up, that we would moor bows to, however as we were heading down the moorings a young lad fishing on the pontoon waved us off, indicating that there was not enough depth further on, I stopped Dreamcatcher and due to the lack of room, I had to spin her about her keel, which brought us up six foot from the side of another boat, and our stern about eight feet from the pontoon, I changed the plan and we dropped back on to the pontoon, where the young lad stood with the tailed line in his hand, this time the stern to mooring was successful, and we were in Sardinia with one day to spare before Nana and Granddad arrived.

We hired a car to go to the airport to pick up our visitors, which gave us an opportunity to see bits of the inside of Sardinia, and possibly to pick up some stores for the boat. The plan was to let Jean and Michael have a day getting used to boat life and their grandchildren before we set off on Dreamcatcher slowly back towards Olbia, which the weather gods seemed to agree with as their first day there was a bit windy. We walked up the hill on the other side to Saint Teresa and watched the Moby lines ferry coming in to the narrow shallow entrance at great speed, once inside it put its helm full to starboard, and engines full astern, and the ferry slewed round with a lot of heel, the nautical equivalent to a handbrake turn, it was impressive to watch. There were a number of nicely blended into the landscape houses on this hill, any of which I would have loved to live in, all though there were my favorites.

17/04/06 Cala Lunga Isola Razzoli
The forecast was for gentle winds from the West swinging round to the East, perfect for a night at anchor in Cala Lunga, an inlet on Isola Razzoli, we sailed to the anchorage in overcast conditions, I was a bit anxious about the rocks in the entrance, when a pilot book warns of rocks I imagine sharp edges hiding just under the surface waiting to punch holes in your boat, but like must places, once you have got in, it as not a bad as expected, and the entrance was rather straight forward. We arrived and had the anchorage to ourselves we picked a spot and dropped the hook in 5 meters onto sand, where it dug in straight away. Due to miscommunication our stern ended up a bit closer to the rocks than I would have liked, but we were still in over 3.5 meters of water. The rocks round the anchorage had been sculpted by wind and rain into fantastic shapes While we were bobbing around having lunch a large catamaran came into the anchorage, hovered round us for a while then went round the corner into the other leg, being new to anchoring it is reassuring to have some one else anchor in the same spot, although they are probably taking their reassurance from you being there themselves.. The children wanted to go swimming off Dreamcatcher, so Bob got hauled off the foredeck, in case of difficulty, but I was not expecting the kids to have the courage to go swimming off the boat. Once the kids were on the beach they were happy playing and paddling, Michael rowed back for Jean and Sara, and my shoes so we could go exploring the island. The bit of the island we managed to see was covered with sharp rocks and scrubby bushes that made walking difficult. After standing at the top of a crest looking towards Deadman’s Reef Passage, a shoal area leading between the islands of Razzoli, Budelli and Santa Maria towards pink beach, where the clear waters changed colour to brilliant light blue over the shallows, and looking at the catamaran at rest in the middle of the wide inlet held on station by four long lines lead to shore, which blocked anyone else from using the inlet, they had strung fenders on the lines, which I presume was to try and prevent other boats from sailing into them, we returned to the beach, where Michael and the children built a hut, out off driftwood and a blanket. The overcast conditions deprived us of what we had been told is a highlight of being at Cala Lunga, a sunset playing onto the rocks. The wind which was meant to swing round to the East persisted in staying in the West, and blowing a small swell, into the anchorage all night.

18/04/06 Maddalena Island
We woke up to another overcast sky, and a forecast of increasing wind from the North. The previous day I had been informed by Michael that he can not swim, with the increasing wind and bouncy sea, I was more risk aware than I had been the previous day, and was a bit over forceful in trying to avoid an incident. We had decide to tow the dinghy round to Pink Beach in order for us to go ashore if the conditions were favourable. The approach to Pink Beach was exposed to the northerly winds that were been squeezed between the islands, I decided that going ashore was not an option, and we should bring the dinghy aboard, which was a bit tricky due to the wind and swell. We should have brought the dinghy on board at Cala Lunga, trying to save time had increased both risk and time taken to do the job, it is a mistake I hope not to make again. We raised the jib, and headed towards Isola Maddalena, an awkward swell made the crossing uncomfortable, we moored up bows to at 12:45. After lunch we went for a walk round the town of Maddalena, to find most of it closed until 17:30, so we had an ice-cream each, after all we were now in Italy. There is a large cross on top of a hill looking down onto the port, which appears to be made of strip lights that get lit up at night. The harbour seems to be constantly busy with ferries plying backwards and forwards to Sardinia, but they do not cause any problems in the yacht harbour.

19/04/06 In the afternoon we caught a bus and went to the north of the island to another inlet called Cala Lunga, where we sat on the beach while the children paddled and dug in the sand. Phoebe called back from the shoreline, where she was digging, saying she had found a fish, which we didn’t believe. Phoebe picked up her ‘Fish’ and brought it to us, it was a leaf. Phoebe went back to the shoreline, and once more said she had found a fish, and it had eyes. Michael walked down to join in the game, then declared that it was a fish, although on its last legs, and asked for a bucket to catch it. It turned out to be a healthy, but sleepy burrowing fish, which first burrowed into the sand, only to be dug back out again, then it swam off slowly into deeper water. After we returned to Maddalena we had what was the best ice-cream I can recall ever having at an American style cocktail bar. I suspected they might be good when I spotted two young men both well over six foot, with intense expressions on their faces as they licked their way round their three flavoured ice-cream cones.

20/04/06 Porto Rotundo Sardinia
We cast off at 10:00 and went through the 13 Foot passage, named after its minimum depth. Once through I passed the helm to Michael after the Jib and Mizzen had been raised, and he steered us past the American Nuclear Submarine base on Isola Saint Stefano, and on to Porto Cervo, the town and harbour which had been developed by the Aga Khan, where the rich and famous were reputed to hang out, although not in April. We tied up to the empty quay side, which was reserved for the large 100m yachts, and had lunch. After lunch we walked round the town of Porto Cervo, we had to have some ice-cream in order to do a comparison, Maddalena still out in front. After lunch we raised the jib and main and sailed off the quay, using springs would have helped the departure and stopped us heading backwards first. A slick tack with all hands working in concert enabled us to lay a course out of the entrance, and south towards Porto Rotondo. With Michael once more at the helm we passed inside Isola Nibani and outside of Isole della Roche, and were greated by our first sight of Isola Tavolara, a large island appearing to rise sheer straight out of the sea, to the south of the approaches to Olbia. With the late afternoon sun warming up the colours, and longer shadows giving definition to the islands of Poveri and Mortorio, we sailed down towards Porto Rotondo, while enjoying a beer in the cockpit. We were helped on to our berth by the marina attendants, two days before the start of Porto Rotondo’s yacht show. We spent the next day on the beach, and had a ringside seat as lovely motor boats arrived. I am not a stinkpotter, but there were a number of motor yachts that if I had the money I would have been tempted to buy, both modern and classic. Porto Rotondo is a large circular marina, reputed to being a Porto Cervo wannabe, however I found it a pleasant friendly place, albeit expensive, my fees for the night were approx E8-00 for the berth and E8-00 for electricity, but in August the mooring fees would have been E147-00. The local supermarket was expensive, and a couple we meet Julie and Ian, who had left their boat there for winter informed us that the supermarket had only opened two days earlier.

22/04/06 Baia Caddinas After a late start due to beach trips, and the need for supplies we set off at 11:30, we had removed the anchor off the bow roller to make getting on and off easier, and Michael and I replaced it, unfortunately it was not cleated on properly, and neither Sara nor I noticed it, in our predeparture checks. We set off in a light wind, which was pleasant for sailing, but we were not making enough progress, it was time for the engine to come on if we were to reach our anchorage at Porto della Taverna. With sails raised and the engine on we approached Capo Figari, and encountered bouncy seas, when suddenly there was a rattling from the bow. A wave had pulled the anchor off its roller and it was heading towards the sea bed, 50meters below, taking 30m of chain and 100m of brand new octoplait warp with it, and there was nothing we could do about it. I shouted for everyone to stay clear of the chain, I did not want anyone getting tangled up in it. I knew that we could not recover that much anchor and chain easily, and being in only 50 meters, there was a very real danger of the anchor setting. I then wondered if someone might be able to stand on the chain or warp as it came out of the hawsepipe, when suddenly with a bang it stopped. Michael and Sara went forward and told me that the join between the chain and warp had jammed in the hawsepipe. Thank goodness I had given up on trying to splice the warp to the chain, otherwise there would not have been a shackle to jam. We needed to find somewhere shallow to take the weight off the chain in order for us to retrieve it. Sara went below to the chart table to tell me about places we could stop on the otherside of Capo Figari, I also needed time to think about what to do and I was having opinions thrust at me, which I was rejecting, but having to explain why, this slows down my thought processes, this is when things went wrong, Sara wanted to drop the sails and head into a beach she could see, the anchor chain needed securing to prevent it coming loose, no one seemed to know how to do that so I went forward to tie it on, while Sara had the helm, as I was coming back into the cockpit Sara gybed and I got hit in the face by the boom, at this point the air got a bit colourful. I needed to get back in charge to prevent something else going wrong, people got shouted at. We dropped sails and motored round to a bay between Isola di Figarolo and Cap Figari, staying in 50 meters plus, as we came in to the shore I increased speed in the hope that the drag from the chain and anchor might raise it up a bit to stop it snagging, if there were any raised outcrops of rocks, I just had to hope we would miss them. As we came into 10m it was apparent that the anchor was now dragging as our boat speed had slowed down, and the anchor chain was pulling tighter. Michael and Sara were on the foredeck waiting to pull in the anchor, which they did, although it required tremendous effort, which was explained when up came the fishermans net, tangled in the anchor, with the minimal amount of cutting this was released, and we motored out of the bay. Porto Taverna got abandoned and we headed towards Baia Caddinas, which turned out to be a lovely stop. Standing in the cockpit we had a lovely view of Isola Tavolara, and right next to the marina was a beautiful sandy beach, with clear water, in which you could see the fish swimming, Sara, Phoebe, Nick and I joined them it had been a hard day.

23/04/2006 Olbia Sardinia
An early start, in order to give Jean and Michael, plenty of time to catch their plane, found us having breakfast while underway. The entrance to the harbour would be hard to spot in the rather featureless terrain, if someone had not built a very conspicuous lighthouse at the entrance, which guides you to the narrow channel. We tied up to the harbour wall, 58 miles after Jean and Michael had joined us, which for people who do not list sailing as a preferred activity, is probably quite far enough, with plenty of time for them to get to the airport. The weather had been good to us, there had been only two days of strong winds. Olbia itself has little to recommend it as a destination, apart from somewhere to change crews or provision, although it does apparently contain the best ice-cream shop in Sardinia, a fact we did not discover until after we had left. We spent the next three days tied up to the harbour wall for free, while we reflected on the last month, stocked up and decided where to go to next. There were a number of German registered boats sharing the wall with us, they all seemed to be charter boats, with crews changing regularly. We meet Denni, a retired New Zealander, who was looking after one of these boats. He was meant to have left the week before we got there, but due to problems with the boats engine the charter had been cancelled and he had no idea how long he was going to have to wait for things to get themselves sorted.

27/04/2006 Madallena Island
The day before I had contacted Topea, and discovered they were on Isola Razzoli, so I arranged to meet them tonight at Maddalena. We left at 08:30, and motored back round Cap Figari. At lunchtime we raised sails which I hung to doggedly, sailing past the entrance to Maddalena with all three sails set, not only to enjoy the sail, but to show off Dreamcatcher as I think she must look magnificent under sail, this point was confirmed by Eve and Gunner who had jumped up from their table at a Café, where they were having their first coffee of the year, when they saw us sailing past. Our plan had been to spend the night then head on off to Corsica, but we ended up staying four days. We meet another family Steven, Fiona and their children Morgan and Morwena from Penryn, who were just starting out for six months of sailing, plus there was some bad weather forecast which we watched stirring up the narrows between the islands from the comfort of the marina. It was not an incident free period however, we all got a great laugh from a boat crewed by a group of retired gentlemen, who after a particularly noisy and alcoholic lunch, slipped their lines having forgotten to pay, the Ormiggiori came running down the jetty demanding his fees, they slowed down a bit looked at their wallets, and decided that the skipper of a boat they had sailed in would pay for them, which he obligingly did. We put Bob in the water to try scrub our waterline, and Phoebe wearing her lifejacket leaned against the guardrail netting at the point where the gates are, it was not secure, and she disappeared head first into the harbour. On surfacing she did not panic but swum to the dinghy, grabbed hold, and then yelled. We fished her out, dried her off, and discussed the incident, in a positive and humorous way.

Next: Pirate beaches, and running aground.

The Med at last, or is this the last.

10/03/06 We had been watching the weather closely, and despite the mistral blowing, it looked like we might have a good window in the early part of next week, so we got ready to leave, this involved deregistering the children from school, letting everyone know that we hope to go on Tuesday, returning and collecting various books DVD’s etcetera, and filing the tanks with water and diesel. A farewell party was hastily organised to take place on the Saturday, by Sherry from Arca di Bella, our neighbours for the last 3 months. Blue Duck another Swedish boat had been trying to leave all week, but had been weather bound, they were now hoping to go on the Monday.

11/03/06 Veliserdi braved the mistral to come and visit in batches, a comment to Dianne that our Chart plotter software wasn’t working had Serge pedalling across to help me sort out the problem. Before he disappeared that night with my GPS we persuaded him to come to the party, his comment to me later was that he did not realise that there were going to be so many people, all the boat people turned up apart from Julian and Peter, Peter it transpired thought he had been excluded as he was not invited directly, and we don’t know what happened to Julian, as we did not see the pirate again before we left. During the day I began to suspect that my fixed VHF antenna was not working properly, Dennis kindly offered to go up my mast the next day, although the forecast was for more Mistral.

12/03/06 Mistral still blowing, shrouds finally pinned, deck gear stowed. Spare antenna cable from Blue Duck confirmed that there was a fault.

13/03/05 Blue Duck still not gone, the mistral has gone but it is still a strong and bitterly cold North wind blowing, Dennis goes up the mast, so we can check the cable, which is fine therefore it is the antenna itself which needs to be changed. Serge arrived with my GPS complete with lead to connect to the chart plotter. We decided to delay our departure until the VHF antenna can be changed. Later that night while checking all our other bits of electronics I discover that the GPS is not working, the original wires get reconnected to the radar switch, and it works although not with the chart plotter.

14/03/06 Get woken up at 07:00 by a knocking on the hull, I find Serge outside with some software revisions that will enable the chart plotter to work more fully, he was worried we might leave before he had it working properly. After discovering that the only fault with Serge’s cable was that it had been wired into a disconnected earth bus bar, it had worked the day before as the computer provided an earth link, and apologising over a coffee we got the chart plotter working. Dennis had arrived to ask when he was required to go back up the mast, it had been arranged for 10:00, but it was still windy and cold, so we rescheduled till lunch time, when the antenna from the chart table got plugged in and at last we were all systems go at 14:30, it wouldn’t be like me to get things ready to soon in advance. Blue Duck had slipped out some time in the morning, so with the help of the Capitainair, Dennis Sherry and an kind wind blowing us off, we slipped our lines and left Port Saint Louis three month exactly after first arriving. We had meet some friendly people some of whom we hope to meet later as we all head for Greece, and others who are going in different directions, we hope to keep in contact with them and wish them all fair winds and slight seas. We passed Andy working on his boat, and with jib only we showed 5.7 knots on our log as we headed the 2 miles to Navy Services. This stop had been planned last night, as we wanted to leave Port Saint Louis and now there were too many people at Navy Services to whom we wanted to say goodbye to. Veliserdi saw us arriving and before we were alongside, Veliserdi, Topea and Christine were all standing by to take our lines, it was an excellent welcome. The children thought this was an excellent sailing idea, leave one place arrive somewhere else less than 30 minutes later to be met by all your friends. Sara and I managed to find all the people we were looking for. Ann and Norman joined us onboard briefly to say goodbye, then Dreamcatcher’s crew all went to Veliserdi, which was stood on the hard having repairs done, where we were joined by Guner and Eve from Topea who brought our supper. After a pleasant evening containing a reasonable quantity of wine we departed leaving Serge with a bottle of Malt Scotch as thanks for all his help.

15/03/06 Dermot arrives just as we are about to depart and helps slip our lines, we are hoping to make a quiet departure, leaving Phoebes bike behind for Veliserdi to use, but our departure is spotted by Veliserdi, and before long Veliserdi are all on the quay wall waving and shouting their goodbyes. It is a sad moment as we do not anticipate seeing Veliserdi again for a long time, as they hope to be returning to Paris for a two year employment contract, as we finally past out of sight behind the land they are still stood there waving. After this start Sara and I are quiet for a while caught in our own thoughts, we motor out into the Golf de Fos and finally into the Mediterranean Sea. Phoebe helps helm, there is a bit of wind but I had a sleepless night due to some stomach bug, and I can’t manage the effort of putting the sails up and down so we motor on. The landscape changes as we move away from the flat industrial part of the Golf de Fos, and round the corner towards Carry le Rouet, there are sand coloured hills with olive green vegetation, at last this is beginning to look like my idea of the Mediterranean coast of France. Marseilles revels itself guarded and sheltered by its islands including for people familiar with Alexandra Dumas’ Conte of Monte Cristo Il D’If complete with its prison Chateau D’If. 5 hours after leaving Navy Services we thread our way in past the Phare and the Fort, to find the Vieux Port opening up in front of us, we slow down as we try to locate the reception pontoon. I notice a large wooden boat reversing out in front of us, it stops then goes back in, trying to line itself up on it’s pontoon, as we get closer it starts reversing again I anticipate it stopping and going back in, when I realise it is not going to stop but is continuing backwards, I can’t turn to port as I now have another boat overtaking me, if I try to reverse I will just stop behind him, so increasing throttle, I yell across for them to stop, at last they react diving for the cockpit, but they do not stop instead they increase their speed backwards and with a loud banging and crashing noise smash into my pushpit, we are slewed around to starboard, as they continue to career across the harbour straight towards moored motor boats on the other side. Eventually they stop, and come back and apologise, and ask us to come alongside their pontoon so that we can sort it out. Beinevenue Marseille. The reception pontoon was 20 meters in front of us. It transpired that his engine telegraph had malfunctioned, and after assessing the damage, our pushpit is seriously distorted pushed in on the starboard side with all the uprights bent, and their inflatable, which was what actually hit us and acted like a fender, burst, we moored up at the reception pontoon and waited for the morning when we would sort it all out.

16-22/03/05 The next seven days are spent getting the boat repaired and walking round discovering Marseille, an unusual place that reveals its secrets slowly, it is too easy to take it as a busy commercial mish mash of a city, but that would be a disservice, it is a colourful, friendly and frenetic mix of cultures squashed together, but still different, in a sprawling city, if anything this was clearly indicated in the Carnaval we went to, a procession of nearly 1.5miles of floats all representing different districts; schools or cultural groups, packed full of energy. We stood at the side of the road, for over 2 hours, in the sun until the last float finally came past, with its band and troop of dancers still in full flight. The carnaval went down the road heading towards the horse race course, a part of the city which had been developed because the city council thought they should develop that area. We walked round the North African area, near the Arch De Triomph, and found Tea shops selling baklava’s and other sweet cakes, alongside Halal markets and stalls from which wafted the heady scents of spices. The daily fish market at the end of the Vieux Port, sells fish caught by the local fisherman, sold by the local fishermen, it is so fresh that it is quite literally flapping, as some of the trays are flooded with water to keep the fish alive. The character of the town is typified by Renee’ and his cohorts who come round to fix the pushpit rather than involving the insurance companies, the pushpit is removed later one afternoon, and rather than trying to get it through the busy rush hour traffic it gets put into a rib, a rib with a somewhat temperamental motor. The rib announces its appearance by an engine starting and quickly going up it rev range to full power, as it shoots out into the harbour, does a quick turn and heads towards us whereupon it engine promptly dies. The pushpit is loaded up and off the ribs goes, with Renee at the helm, and his companion standing up in the bow, this in Marseille is not unusual as we have seen the Harbour master patrol boats regularly taking people out all standing up, usually holding on to part of the structure, what is unusual about Renee’s rib, is it only about 7 foot long, and the bloke standing up in the front is holding my pushpit over his shoulders. The ribs engine stalls 10 meters from Dreamcatcher, and not wanting to miss an opportunity like this the chap holding the pushpit lets go of it, leaving it balanced on his shoulder while he proceeds to roll and light a cigarette, while Renee is tugging at the started cord. The Harbour masters office was getting refitted for the start of the season, and Nick soon made friends with the builders, due to delays in getting the pushpit remade we moved onto Renee’s pontoon and tied up alongside one of his day trip boats, which he sorted out with the harbourmaster. Nick and Phoebe made friends of Renee and Jean Michel, to the extent that whenever they came on board they were either shot by Nick, or they attached themselves to their legs stopping them form leaving. When Jean Michel came on board to fix some new boards in the ceiling, Nick got dressed up in his construction workers costume and took his tool kit in to help, and was a bit upset when Jean Michel went ashore to get a saw, as Nick had on in his toolbox, which he got out and offered to Jean Michel when he came back. The trip boat community got a bit interesting while we were there, as the charter company taking day trippers to Port Friole and Château D’If, which it was alleged had a gangster element, which it was believed had had a hand in fire bombing two of Renee’s boats, including the one we were moored up to, in the past, had finally had its licences revoked, and their boats had been impounded, chained to the jetty, then towed away by the police. When we finally left we were told that any time we came back to Marseille, we were welcome to tie up in their yard, and as we sailed away Jean Michel who had taken a ferry across to Port Frioul past us going the other way, and hooted his horn in farewell, which the children responded to with excited waving.

23/03/06 Once more we had got ourselves sailing to a deadline and losing time; in January when Jean and Michael had been with us we arranged to meet them again in Sardinia at Easter. Sitting in port in winter 200 miles in over 4 months did not seem extreme, even leaving when we did gave us time and allowed for the odd weather bound day, but did not include losing time due to repairs, the last two days had had horrible weather, some even if we had been ready we could not have left, however we now had a window, Westerly 2/3, slight seas, just what we require for our first real sail of the season, if a bit light we should make the 16miles to Port Miou easily. As we came round the corner form the Vieux Port, we hoisted the mizzen, in a lumpy swell, left over from the last 2 days of westerlies. We turned the engine on after ghosting past Chateau D’If, and were slopping round in the swells, I thought about raising the main, but decided to wait until we were out of the shelter of the islands, as we started getting out of the shelter the swells started getting bigger, there were white horses on the crests of the waves, and the wind got stronger. Phoebe and Nick lost the struggle and started being sick, Dreamcatcher was tromping along beautifully showing over 6 knots sometimes going over 7, with the wind and waves on the starboard bow. If we carried on we would have to turn the corner and run before the wind, which should lessen the apparent wind, but could led to problems later when we needed to turn into Port Miou, although I had confidence in Dreamcatcher, the crew would be a problem, and another 2 to 3 hours of this would not be pleasant for the children, and Sara would then be needed to look after them, leaving me by myself, it was an easy decision to make, with the strong winds which I estimated at closer to a F6 than F3, white crests on the waves, we turned back. This now moved the Mizzen boom across onto the other adjustable backstay, due to the motion I did not ask Sara to go back to loosen it, which meant that in the gusts we had tremendous weather helm, as the mizzen tried to swing us to wind, with full opposite helm we stayed more or less on course, even this did not slow us down with over 7 knots on the log. As we got more sheltered we loosened our backstay and headed towards Port Frioul, a harbour in the shelter of the Rattenau islands off Marseille. Three hours after setting off we were 2.5 miles from where we had started. However I am glad we had to make the stop otherwise we would have missed this delightful spot. While Sara and I tied up the boat, after 4 months travelling down the canals and three months in port, we had neglected to stow the boat properly for sea, the children’s toys which had been set up on the table were all over the floor, where they were having a party with books, charts, smashed glasses, bread boards, some battery operated stainless silver salt and pepper pots, Christmas presents, which we now refer to as the missiles, various fruit and vegetables, which had decided they were missing out, or did not want to be eaten, we kept finding bits of glass and vegetables reappearing from their hiding places over the next two days, Phoebe and Nick were put on the jetty, and allowed to run off and explore by themselves, something we had been hoping to let them do ever since we set off, we fetched them back when we saw Nick standing on the edge of the cliff looking down. After a rest I took the children for a walk on the nature reserve, the sun was warm on our faces as we walked up the rocky hill covered with scrub plants, went through a cutting, to see the Mediterranean Sea with white capped waves, more closely clear blue waters in the cove in front of us, a castle on the hill at the far end of the island, it was what we had been aiming for the last two years, I finally felt that we had got there, it was an emotional moment. As we ran back to fetch Sara, as she should not miss out on this, we had a lovely view of Marseille behind Isle D’If.

24/03/06 Weather bound, so we went walking round the island and the children went swimming in the sea, that evening as I was tiding up a French Family with a little girl walked down the jetty to talk to us, they had seen our children walking about the jetty, and came across to talk to us. They were going to heading down to Greece later in the year, to visit the island that his grandfather a sponge fisherman had come from. He told us that if there is a westerly wind in the area that there are always big swells. Weather looks good for tomorrow.

25/03/06 Up at 7:00 aiming to get a good start if the wind is calm, it is a flat calm in the harbour. Off to Port Miou, with options to continue on if it is good. We sneak through the gap between the mainland and the islands off the tip of Marseille, which cuts three miles off our journey towards Port Miou, 6 meters of water is disconcerting after being in over 80 meters. Mizzen raised jib out, and we are running before the wind, still with the engine on to keep up the miles. We pass Port Miou and head across towards Ciotat, Roger the autohelm gets pulled out of his cupboard and turned on, the winds is still gentle, the 11:15 SSB weather forecast still foretells good weather. This is very different from our first attempt to leave Marseille, the sea is has a gentle swell and all are smiling. At 12:00 Sara serves up ravioli, and the engine gets turned off so we can sail through a gentle lunch. Dreamcatcher maintains an indicated 4 knots, the lost 1.5 knots for an hour while we have lunch will not add too much on to the journey. We decided to keep sailing as the speed slowly moves up to 4.5 knots, and we head off towards Porquerolles, an island that everyone tells is lovely. The wind picks up and we reef the mizzen, we are still running, with the log now showing 6.5knots going up to 7.5, the seas are catching us on the stern and trying to slew us round, ‘Roger’ had been struggling to keep up and spent most of the time turned off. It was uncomfortable to hold the chosen course, so we headed a further 10 degrees off shore, moving the wind from dead astern to the Starboard Quarter, would put us off track, but it made the motion a lot more comfortable. As we got closer to Porquerolles we executed a gib, got it horribly wrong with the jib wrapped round the forestay, and did a series of circles to untangle it, during which ‘Roger’s’ belt snapped, this might cause us problems on longer passages unless we could find a replacement, which I believed where in the engine room. We identified the gap between Porquerolles and the mainland, and slipped in, the wind was blowing strongly in the harbour, but their were plenty of people offering help with our lines, at 17:0 after a fantastic days sailing we tied up having turned the engine on at the last 20 minutes to get us into the harbour. 52 miles in 9.5hours an average speed of 5.5knots, with most of the latter part of the afternoon spent at nearly 7 knots, I felt alive and buzzing, this was the furthest and fastest we had ever just sailed, without the engine on, in Dreamcatcher, and we had done it just as a family without any help, and the children had been with us playing in the cockpit all day. Sara took the children for walk while I talked to people on other boats, and put on sail covers and generally tidied up the topsides.

26/03/06 Woke up late, after we had got ourselves dressed and breakfasted, we set off to go explore, and found a note on the deck from the harbourmaster asking us to go to his office before 11:30, we arrived at 10:45, I found him stood at his door, hew told me he was closed and was not open now till Monday. This was a bit confusing as we were on time but the clock at the ferry station showed was an hour later, it was now Summer time in Europe. I was disappointed with Porquerolles, the harbour was new, and was filling up with motor boats coming over from Toulon, and then sitting in the marina moored next to each other having barbeques and lunch staring at a lump of concrete, wearing pastel sweaters and thick gold chains round their necks. The village was not much better, as far as I could see its only reason for being there was to provide holiday accommodation it had the feel of artificiality, a form of Bowness on Sea. It may have been better if we had anchored up off one of the beaches, or had walked further onto the island. During lunch we had a conversation looked at the forecast weather, we would need two days of good weather to get to Corsica, as the distance was 120 miles, we had a forecast which was good now and tomorrow but a bit iffy for the day after, we decided to go in the afternoon, at 14:45 we turned on the engine cast off our lines and headed out towards Corsica.

26-27/03/06 This was going to be a challenge, our first long crossing, with just Sara myself and the children, once we had left there were no stopping places on route, but we were still on a high from our fantastic day the day before, we had chosen to move the goalposts slightly, instead of doing the normal route of Porquerolles to Calvi we had opted for Girolata, about a third of the way down the coast, but that meant it was going to be a bit further to go. We were all in the cockpit as we motored between Porquerolles and Ile De Port Cros, we turned off the engine and raised the jib while we had supper, but there was no wind to talk off at all, so after supper it was back on with the engine as we set off to Corsica. Sara got the kids to bed, then went down to get some kip, but spent an hour or so plotting positions and tidying up, but before finally getting her head down at 22:00. It was a moonless night, and we appeared to have the sea to ourselves, it would have been peaceful if it weren’t for the engine throbbing away. The boredom of night watches with nothing in sight was broken by staring over the sides watching the sea light in our wake with blue phosphorescence, and trying to keep the jib filled, which was not helped by the swell left over from the last 3 days of westerlies. Sara was up again at midnight to take over, by which time I was looking forward to getting some kip. I gave Sara a course to steer, asked if she was all right, then headed towards the spare bunk in the saloon. I didn’t think I had fallen asleep, but I was woken by Sara bashing my foot and shouting at me. Lifejacket and harness on I was up in the cockpit, trying to find out what the problem was and found Sara struggling to keep the jib filled. Sara’s major concern was she had been shouting at me, and trying to throw things at me, to try and wake me up, before coming down to physically wake me, I had been sleeping with my hearing ear in the pillow, and with the combination of engine noise and tiredness I had not heard her. I really needed some more sleep, but Sara wasn’t happy with being on watch by herself. I got a blanket and a pillow and tried to get some kip in the cockpit, which was a lot harder than it sounds, not only are the seats to short to stretch out on, they are narrow and with the rolling seas, I was trying to sleep with one hand alternating between the binnacle and the cockpit cover. After finally nearly sliding all the way off the seat, I asked Sara if I could take over the helm. Sara and I changed positions, Sara was a lot more successful at getting to sleep. She was so fast asleep that when we were caught by an awkward swell she only woke up once she was in a heap on the cockpit floor. While I was staring out the starboard side, Sara claimed she had seen a dolphin or something that had snorted and made her jump, I did not believe this, the only light was what ever was reflecting from our steaming light. At 04:00 I had to believe her as I saw a steel blue fin cut through the water and followed by a trail of phosphorescence in the water, we had been joined by two dolphins who swam round and under our boat for the next 45 minutes. It woke us up and gave the passage a magical element. Before the dolphins arrived I had been struggling to stay awake, and there were times when I had micro sleeps while helming. At 05:00 I suddenly saw masthead lights in front of us, they had not been there when I had last looked, maybe I had been asleep, I could not make out what it was, a stern light, a steaming light or an anchor light, what ever it was it was big and close, as it was bright and high. I jumped up poked my head through the opening in the cockpit cover, we had seen 5 ships during the night, I did not want to get run down, I could not see any other navigation lights, I took my glasses off, this still did not improve it, I turned to starboard, what ever it was I couldn’t stay where I was. I cleaned my glasses and put them back on, still no better. It aspect was not changing it was still there, what was it? Finally the truth dawned, it was a planet or star that had appeared from behind the thinning clouds. It was time for me to get some proper sleep. Sara took over the helming, commented about the star, and I went below for some kip. I woke at 07:00 with light coming into the saloon, to see Sara stood at the helm, talking to Nicholas, who was sat in the cockpit, in his pyjamas, wrapped in a blanket, keeping his mum company. I plotted our position still 35 miles from Corsica and told Sara that she might soon be able to see Corsica. Sara said she had been seeing it since dawn, I came up into the cockpit and saw the mountains in the north of Corsica arranged like teeth ripping at the sky, as we got closer the mountains slowly revealed more details, the high peaks in the background were snow capped, giving way to dark granite coloured peaks, then drab olive green and finally at the base were they joined the sea the red of iron rich rocks. The red band dwarfed initially dwarfed by the peaks, slowly got larger blotting out the higher bits behind, as they plunger shear into the water, they rose to over 500 meters, and the sea depths rose equally sharply, just over 1 mile off shore the depths were still over 1000metres, finally rising to 20metres about 100 meters from the shore. We anchored up in the bay at Girolata, tucked up in the lee of a castle topped premonitory. There was one other boat at anchor, although it appeared to have been left there all winter and was not occupied, the village, accessible only either by foot or by boat, appeared mostly empty. There was a bit of activity on the shore as a small group of about 6 men repairing jetties and getting the wooden sided bar and restaurant ready for the season.