Saturday 28 October 2017

Watch out, It's the Smiths and the Kings!

We left Porto Vecchio having met the lady who ran aground. Thank yous are always accepted when they involve wine. She was very annoyed with herself for running aground. I was quite impressed she handled a 12 metre boat on her own. I don't think I would have got as far as we have without the watchful eye of Mrs K giving pointers.


"That's a bit close." It's getting a bit shallow." Shouldn't we slow down a bit?" "What the bloody hell are you doing? You idiot."

A rare moment of relaxation safely anchored in Golfe de Sant Amanza on the way back to Sardinia. not keeping an eye on the skipper as he will be doing something productive.


We are due back to Santa Teresa as we have crew coming out from Blighty. The Smiths and the Kings.
I am beginning to recognise the look in a woman's eye when they know they have challenged themselves in the husband development field.


Although it is difficult to understand why.


Cars hired we make for Palau to catch the ferry to Maddalena a very touristy spot in the marine reserve. A blowy day but I managed to keep the Fiat Panda on course and mostly on the right side of ,the road. Luckily Mrs Ks pointers are transferable to driving and follow in much the same vein.

A very pleasant day with a nice lunch and then return to the boat to hone the crew for the following days sail across to Bonifacio. 

Safety brief, life jackets fitted, a nourishing meal, a small night cap and an early night.  -- 

was the plan but it descended into a gin and wine fuelled cards night with the Smiths and the Kings teaching the residents of Santa Teresa ball room dancing in the square on the way home.


It is difficult getting crew!

Still the next day an early start. All crew appeared ready and able for the crossing.

Carl and Graham exhausted themselves (and the fishing kit) fishing for those elusive sword fish and tuna. Then.

Bonifacio.


Safely, if not a little awkwardly, docked we set off to explore this ancient and precarious town.


Along way down and surprisingly still standing. (The town not the crew!)

Lunch and a jaunty sail back with the ladies demonstrating superior helming skills. I wonder whether our luck with fishing may take a turn should the ladies try? (I couldn't even suggest this.)


With the weather turning to gale force '18', sensibly we decide to stay on land and visit Capo Testa a pretty little peninsular joined by a narrow causeway. 

Standing in the wind is difficult,---  


----but not that difficult!  

Less sensibly, some of us decide to go rock hopping around Capo Testa to see how close we can get to the big splashy waves! wearing specialist rock climbing flip flops!


After a windy, stony, out of season drive to Tempio in our rugged Citroen and Fiat Panda vehicles we return to Santa Teresa for food and then alcohol  fuelled cards and Bananagram games on the boat.


Looks like our combined tablet taking collection. All a bit too quick for me, with people peeling all the time.

Now putting a topping lift on required someone to go up the mast. Despite offers from all I decided it was the skippers job to go up. I did however need good, strong, reliable people to ensure my safety while up there, sober, stable, conscientious---


Well all that and more!


So up I went and Carl had a lie down. It was only at the top that I recalled their past ability to tangle things and drop things.


A successful job and my mates delivered me back to earth safely but not until they said, "go on take your hands and feet off let's see if it would have held you?" Anyway a new topping lift. Very happy.

Ali and Carl had to return to Blighty with things to do getting in the way of retirement. 

The weather Apps described the weather as Force 3 with seas no larger than 0.7 of a metre. The plan was to slip out of Santa Teresa and anchor for the night in either Capo Testa or Pozzo depending on the lumpyness. Well it was fine inside Santa Teresa but when we got out the waves grew and grew to about two metres. Too much so a quick 'U' turn and back in to Santa Teresa. It's not like both Apps to say "It'll be fine" when it's not.

Any way fish curry (with bought fish) and more Bananagram and cards.

The following day was better and although a slight lumpyness we set off for bay Raparata off Capo Testa. Graham was armed with a 9 Euro Lure  accomplished the impossible by catching a Tuna.


Lunch on Graham after a swim and a sun bath. Lovely.


Mrs K wearing a glass bottomed frying pan.


Although not such an expert with the gutting knife Graham was quite rightly proud of his fish now holding the Hermione fishing record of largest fish.

To round off the trip nicely we spotted a dolphin on re-entering Santa Teresa which, as usual refused to combine surfacing with camera readiness.

The Smiths and the Kings have done Hermione. A slightly better outcome then last year when Hermy was laid up at Fecamp with Enginitus and we had to drive to Honfluer.

Really good to see our old mates!

The Smiths safely dropped off at Olbia, Mrs K and I return to Santa Teresa to put Hermy to bed for the winter, this time afloat so there will be that slight worry going on, although I have been very impressed with the staff at Santa Teresa so far and they have given us a berth on pontoon B which is more protected. 

Well that's it for 2017.

Saturday 14 October 2017

Hermy's heroes!

Santa Teresa Gallura, North Coast of Sardinia. Possibly the ancient Greek town of Tibula. An excellent harbour, lovely beach and nice town. But more importantly it was where the scene with Jaws crashing off a cliff and landing on a wooden house in the Bond film a spy who loved me was filmed.

This is where Hermy will spend her winter being carefully looked after by the very nice harbour staff at a very reasonable cost. The berth was very reasonably priced but lift out and antifouling was a bit high so using my excellent communication skills I managed to get 200 Euros off the berth but nothing off the lift out price! Something got lost somewhere.

The wind was picking up over the next few days and we hunkered down to sit it out.
Every now and again Mrs K makes me visit the, on board, beauty parlour as she does like to show me off.


Mrs K doesn't mess about with those clippers you know, nearly lost several ears!
It's not easy being a trophy husband.

So with a bit of time on our hands out came the Bromptons and off we went exploring.

Capo Testa was near enough if you ignore the mountain it was over and we had a very pleasant time.

About 1400 BC ish some Nuragic people settled at Lu Brandali near Capa Testa making very good use of the odd shaped stones. 


Then the Romans had a pad on the Cape for a while and left a couple of columns behind. We had a very nice lunch and a visit to the light house.


Next we visited Palau. We didn't intend to, we were going to Olbia but we met a couple at the bus stop who had come from Palau to Santa Teresa to catch the ferry to Bonifacio. Strangely a young couple from Aylesford in Kent. They didn't take their passports and got turned away at the Ferry port as you need a passport to go from Italy to France. 

Sort of thing I would do if I didn't have Mrs K organising me. Anyway Palau had even more strangely shaped rocks and was quite pleasant if a little out of season.


So with little to do we made for the towns ethnographic museum, whatever that is and we enter the building declaring itself the museum. Entry is free and there is an art exhibition, I'm expecting old plough shares and pictures of animals and peasants but no. 

The art was mainly based on bottoms and boobs. I could tell Mrs K is not overly impressed so we left.

Palau is the start of a steam train journey that looks interesting and you can get a ferry across to the island of Maddelena. 


Another island connected to Maddelena is Caprera. Giuseppe Garribaldi, General, sailor, unifier of Italy and overall good guy, (Even AJP Taylor thought so.) bought a farm here and spent most of his later life here between popping off for the odd military campaign.

We had a very pleasant walk along the shore to get over the bottoms and boobs and caught an early bus home.

With the weather settled and just over a week before our old buddies from Boughton Monchelsea come out we decided to go for a little explore.

Leaving Santa Teresa and turning right we skirt between the mainland coast and the Marine reserve that requires an expensive permit to navigate. Our first stop only five miles around the corner was in Pozzo a long inlet with an anchorage at the end. We parked next to another British boat 'Viola' a very nice an American 46 foot 'Little Harbour' we were told by the skipper as they left the next morning over a brief chat.


We followed them shortly afterwards and continued our journey right and for the first time we see dolphins reasonably close up. Clearly they had strayed out of the marine reserve and gave us a free show.


Next stop Cannigione again up a creek but with a nice harbour at the end with a supermarket and some nice little shops selling local wooden things.


This does look like one of my projects but mine would have meant to be straight!

The very posh port of Cervo was just around the corner so with the wind blowing that way we sailed around to take a look. We got to the lump of concrete just outside which was meant to be a navigational mark and read the bit in the guide book that said a 12 hour stop on a mooring bouy was 75 Euros and a 24 hour stay was 150 Euros for a yacht under 15 metres. We decided not to bother clearly priced to keep riff raff such as us out. We'll catch a bus for 3 Euros. Perhaps they should spend some of their riches on repairing their nav mark.

A motor back past Palau and a search for a sheltered anchorage lead us back to Port Pozzo where dolphins oblige once again. Unfortunately they fail to coordinate their surfacing with our camera readiness.


Next morning a 10 mile trip to the islands of Lavezzi and Cavello which has a small port however on arrival we discover it is closed for winter and we edge out of its shallow entrance with the keel up.
Now I was beginning to think that having a lifting keel wasn't all that useful in these deep waters, that was until we arrived at our alternative port of Porto Vecchio on the Corsican east coast. 

As we entered Vecchio bay we were approached by a largish yacht who pointed us in the direction of a ketch that we learnt was aground. They declared it too shallow for them but asked if we could help.

The ketch was a singlehanded lady. Always a sucker for a damsel in distress we approached raising the keel and found the ketch drew a metre and a half so not far from our limit with the keel up. Anyway we took a line from her and dragged her off to the applause of the standing by yacht. Mrs K played a blinder even offering to swim over to get the rope.

Feeling very heroic we entered Porto Vecchio with a hint of Horatio Nelson in the air. Only  to be told you can't park there go round the back!

Ah well short lived but a nice feeling at the time and vindication for Hermy's ability to lift up her skirt in an emergency. The nice lady dropped off a posh bottle of wine to say thanks. She needn't have as I have been rescued by the French in the past and owed them one.


Porto Vecchio. East coast of Corsica.

Friday 6 October 2017

Hermy has done Corsica!

It's very difficult being the perfect husband but I think I am getting there. 

Mrs K has been accusing me of hallucinating due to my red wine consumption. When you are rolling along in the boat you tend to look out to sea as you, (I), would stare at a fire. A bit mesmerising. 

However every now and again the sea will throw up a sudden event like a burst of flying fish, a dolphin, a jumping tuna or a leaping sword fish. Well this happens and I can't stop myself alerting Mrs K who inevitably sees nothing and then doubts the perfection of her husband. 

Well I am very grateful to a sword fish in Sagona bay that leapt and then did it again so Mrs K could see and prove once and for all that I do see some things that are real. Sometimes!


Anyway we left Calvi and made for a rather small place called Girolata which can only be reached by either foot or boat. Just like London. 


A lovely place of which no part resembles London.


Free range burgers!

This has gone on our list of top places we have seen with crystal clear water and the meeting of tourism  and uncommercialisation, if that is a word? The small ferries arrive in abundance, there is a beach a couple of bars and a shop. A bit hippyish and I may have detected a whiff of weed but otherwise unspoilt. 

We took a walk along a dodgy path spurred on by elderly hikers coming the other way. Not sure how they managed as even us young saplings struggled with some parts.


Note the waterproof (in case we fall out of the dinghy) bag and hiking sandals!


We had a lovely stay in this bay then made for Cargese. A small town given to some Turk fleeing Greeks about 400 years ago. Apparently they are slowly being accepted by the Corsicans. Well they have learnt to charge for a berth so we stayed a couple of hours walked up a huge hill to the town for a bit of shopping, then made off to an anchorage nearby.

We used our stern kedge anchor to good effect and stayed bow to waves so had a reasonable night before making for Ajaccio, Corsica's capital.

Now in order to get there you have to either go round the Sanguinaire islands or through them. Apparently Sanguinaire means blood thirsty. 


Now which gap did Mr Heikell say was deep enough?

Ajaccio was okay but I couldn't help feeling it should have been nicer than it was as a capital city.  The marina didn't see September as 'out of season' so our stay was cost limited to two days.


 It was however Boney's birth place and his parents house was still there despite their spat with Paoli's partisans when he revolted against the, er revolution and the Bonapartes found themselves on the wrong side. 

A big pad with quite a few bits and pieces but nothing like his boots, his hat, or his toilet as we have already found around the republic.

Note the large, high season, queue!

Propriano was our next port of call round a large corner some 23 Nautical miles away. The weather was calm so we bashed on via the motor.

It was at this point that I noticed we had covered 1000 nautical miles since our start in June. 2,115 nm since we left Gillingham. No wonder I am tired!

Propriano was very rainy on the first night but we made friends with some lovely Americans from California, Brice and Casey, probably spelt both of those wrong. 

(I wonder if the owner of the boat behind has a wife called Hermione?)

We were invited to help the Californians finish off some excess alcohol from their 9 day charter as they were going home the next day. They couldn't have been more fortunate in their neighbour! So we were duty bound to assist. They also gave us all their left over stores and a bottle of champers for Mrs K. 

Very nice people.

Slipped out the next day for the long haul around to Bonifacio our final stop in Corsica. weather was better.


Never did work out what the smoke in the hills was.

The long haul around to Bonifacio was worth it. A very dramatic entrance through the chalk cliffs.


And the town within the fortifications was something else.


Alas only a one nighter here as we have to slip across to Sardinia to sort out our winter berth. But we will go back and take a longer look. Hopefully with a Motley crew.


Heading for St Teresa Gallura, Sardinia, across the Bonifacio strait. Corsica is done for now!

Saturday 30 September 2017

Off Corse again!


Picking up where we left off on our cruise around whatever we find, we set off back to Corsica. Having circumnavigating Elba for a second time and covering the south and the north of Capraia, it's time to cross the Corsican channel again and head for Maccinaggio on Cap Corse.


After a fairly stormy patch we seem to have met a really settled period. Mrs K hit it off with the diesel pump attendant and he arranged for our berth at only 34 euros for the night. 

Maccinaggio is a quaint little port which despatched four boats in 1571 to assist in the defeat of the Turks at Lepanto. 

Having read this on a plaque I enquired if they had any winter storage space now with the four ships gone. They did but getting to and from Maccinaggio seems to involve a long walk, donkey trip and a boat ride so it may not be  deemed suitable.

Rounding Cap Corse can be a bit of a trial if the wind gets up so we were lucky with our settled conditions and the lack of wind meant the sails stayed furled and Hermy's motor got a thrashing.

Night at anchor in a lovely little bay called  Anse d' Aliso. Gave my loved one's bottom a once over and scraped off a few barnacles. Salt water does that to a girls bottom you know!.
Then a lovely night's sleep with only one other yacht at Anchor.


Next stop Saint Florent. A place I had not heard of but the faithful pilot book gave a good run down and pointed out that this was where the Martello tower comes from. 

Apparently Admiral Hood in 17 something came to help Pasquelle Paoli gain independence for Corsica and when he rolled up with his fleet he didn't have too much trouble despatching the opposition. All except those sitting in a small round tower at Mortello point nearby. 

He thrashed it and bashed it without much impression and eventually took it using Marines. So impressed with their resilience he thought we could use a couple of those in Kent just in case those uppity French ever made it across the channel.


I suspect Hood did not encounter the crosswind I did and did not enter his berth sideways. It was in fact a faulty dock that put me off as it is set at a slant. I did try to explain this to the unimpressed catcher of ropes but couldn't think of the word for spirit level.

Anyway Mr Heikell was right it is a lovely town. It was laundry day and armed with three large bags of washing we hit the Laverie. Now we didn't have enough coinage so Mrs K set off to buy some bread rolls. She returned with bread rolls, an Ice cream and a bit of a glow. Apparently when she tried to buy the rolls with a note claiming she had no change some handsome Corsican stepped in and bought the rolls for her. Hence the Ice cream purchase.

We put on the rest of the washing and Mrs K took the first load back to the boat to dry it on the rigging. I struggled back with the other two bags only to be told that a very nice, handsome Corsican man, seeing her with a bag carried it all the way back to the boat for her. A skip in Mrs K's step I see!

Damn Corsican's keep chatting up the wife!

After a bit of shopping we had a lovely beer watching the Boules match without any Corsican male intrusions and retired to our airer.


Now it had to happen eventually. After a quick walk around the fairly unimpressive citadel we decided to leave the slanted dock. Now I confess I had an inkling that all might not be well but the "It'll be fine" philosophy took charge and as we backed out we caught the dock line on the rudder which fed it nicely on to the prop giving a clunking noise I had not heard before. Boat preservation took over and I turned off the engine. Now we were adrift in the marina!

 What to do?

Mrs K reminded me of boat hooks and as we slid past a dock I was able to catch a chain and we secured Hermy to it.

Bugger!

"It's no good dear I'll have to go over the side."

Over I went with my trusty pen knife and saw that Hermy's rope cutter had made mincemeat of the dock line but it was still jammed in the rudder and had caught in the workings of the feathering prop.

I freed it all with several dives and emerged completely blue with antifoul all over me. I decided I had to confess to the Capitainerie and after failing to make myself understood on the raio I marched to the office and explained the situation. I think they are still wondering how in all this I managed a blue rinse in to the bargain.

Anyway we couldn't retrieve the end so we had to foot the bill for a diver. 80 Euros. Bloody divers!


Anyway no damage to Hermy and off we went to Ile Rouse with damaged pride again.

Still we were led to believe that Ile Rouse wasn't quite the ticket but we anchored off and took the dinghy in to a charming little town I think they call it Pasqualle Paoli's port. 

Nice shops pretty harbour and a beach. We also had a lovely lunch of Corsican meats and salad, Tip top. 

We were also joined at anchor by what we are told is the largest sailing boat afloat. The Royal Clipper.


After a nice stop at Ile Rousse we set off for Calvi and join four other boats anchored off only to be told we can't anchor there by a man in a rib. I gaze towards the other boats and he picks up on my doubt but assures me they will be moved on too. 

He says we can anchor off over the other side of the bay or pay 20 euros for a mooring. Still smarting from St Florent, we bugger off and anchor for the night. Quite a pleasant spot with lovely clear water but about a mile from the town. Still after a fairly wallowy night we are joined by our friend the Royal Clipper who I note is not made to bugger off quite as far as us.


Still next morning with the wind getting up we go in to the harbour for the night for a well earned rest with no dramas.


Hermy in the centre of the almost empty harbour. It's a bit lumpy and creaky but easy to get ashore and explore the almost impregnably Genoese citadel. Well almost. Nelson captured it in 17 something but we haven't mentioned that as there are quite a few, very tough looking, Claude Van Dam type, French Foreign Legion soldiers knocking about and we don't want to upset them do we!