THE GRAND TOUR
PART 5 Our Marlow owners take a diversion from their route around the Med to explore the magnificent island of Corsica
It is the beginning of August 2019 and we are about to set off on the last leg of this year’s cruise. We have explored much of the western Mediterranean from Gibraltar to Italy via Spain, the Balearics and France. Now we are heading from San Remo in Northern Italy to Corsica. We throw off the lines early and start the 90nm crossing to Macinaggio on the northeastern tip of Cap Corse in calm weather. From there we plan to circumnavigate Corsica clockwise before returning to the Côte d’azur for winter. Despite the high season we appear to be almost alone on this stretch of the Mediterranean. Only the fast ferries from Nice and Genoa occasionally cross our path – and several small groups of fin whales. Shortly before reaching the island the VHF bursts into life. It’s only the Cap Corse authorities asking us the usual routine questions about last port, next port, estimated time of arrival, people on board and length of ship. They thank us for our cooperation and wish us a safe cruise.
With peaks up to 2,700m high, Corsica has been slowly emerging from the sea for millenia. And its steep sided cliffs plunge down another 2,500m under the water too. No wonder Corsica is often referred to as a mountain in the sea. This is certainly how the island appears from afar - harsh, rocky and unforgiving. The Macinaggio harbour masters seem to have adopted the same approach to the way they do business. Their welcome, if it can be called that, is unfriendly and unhelpful. Maybe it’s because we didn’t radio them in advance but since neither the chart nor the website gave any VHF information we weren’t sure what channel to call on (we learn later that as with many Mediterranean ports, it’s Channel 09). Eventually, we are allocated a berth, a nice one at that, where we enjoy our evening arrival in wonderful summer weather.
WARM WELCOME
Macinaggio not only sounds Italian but also turns out to be very popular with Italians. Many of the boats are flying Italian ensigns, hardly surprising when you realise how much closer it is to mainland Italy than France. The 50nm crossing from Livorno (or 25nm from the Italian island of Elba) makes this an ideal weekend destination for planing motor boats. As a result there is a cheerful Franco-italian bustle in the harbour, which is also reflected in the choice of local restaurants.
Bastia – the capital of Corsica – is our next destination. Since the old port seems unsuitable for our size of boat, we register in the larger and newer Port de Toga. The entrance is quite narrow and difficult to see because of the huge moles protecting it. We deliberately overshoot it to take a few photos of the island’s silhouette, leading to a radio call from the harbour master who must have thought we’d missed the entrance and was now offering to help guide us in – what a nice touch. He even comes out with his dinghy and leads us to our berth directly in front of the Harbour Office. It’s a busy harbour so we have to take care manoeuvring through the tight bends while countless small pleasure craft criss-cross our path. By midday the heat paralyses everything, so we stay on board, cook a nice meal and enjoy our air conditioning.
ENGINE SCUPPERS PLANS
The following day we leave Bastia in wonderful sunshine and fine spirits when suddenly a warning beep starts sounding. Before I can determine where it comes from, I see the message “Low Oil Pressure” on the port engine’s control screen and seconds later hear the engine start to stutter. I quickly take the power down but it still runs rough, even when idling. I kill it completely and head down to inspect the engine room. I can’t see any sign of an oil leak and the level is completely fine. After a while I start the engine again but the symptoms are still the same. I switch it off again and continue on one engine only. We normally run both engines at 1200rpm, giving Azura a cruising speed of 10 knots while burning 70lph. Now I have to throttle the one engine up to 1400rpm to reach a mere 8 knots while burning exactly the same amount of fuel.
But what concerns me much more than the fuel consumption is what’s wrong with the other engine and whether it has sustained any major damage. Before my mind gets the better of me, I fire off a series of quick emails to my engine experts in the USA and Germany. Unfortunately, the remote diagnostics do not give a clear picture, so we try to locate a local engineer in our next port of call, Solenzara, more in hope than expectation. Amazingly, we manage to find one working on a neighbouring boat, who promises to take a look the following morning.
I should have known it was too good to be true and when he still hasn’t shown up by noon I call another company. The lady on the phone even speaks some English and before long not just one, but four people, arrive. It soon transpires that at least one of the four seems to have a good idea of what’s happened. He explains everything clearly, asks pertinent questions and makes a guess that doesn’t seem completely off the mark to me. But to understand more, we have to start the engine again. With my heart pounding and one hand on the red emergency stop button, I start the engine and it runs as if it nothing had ever happened. I can hardly believe it and keep expecting the old symptoms to reappear – but no, just the usual smooth-running engine. And that’s the way it stays until the end of the season, the problem has never reoccurred since. Despite this pleasant surprise, we arrange a test drive under load for the following morning just to be sure.
This time only two people show up and everything runs smoothly again. When I get the bill many weeks later, it’s for €100 – unbelievably reasonable in an area where the berth alone often costs €200-300 for one night.
Due to the engine problems, we have fallen behind schedule and have to redirect our incoming guests from Porto Vecchio to Solenzara. Once safely aboard we start again towards
Bonifacio on the southern tip of Corsica, the pearl of Corsica’s many ports. We’ve made a berth reservation to be sure of getting in but something must have gone wrong in the process because Bonifacio claims not to have a reservation from us and is completely full up. We are gutted. We’d been looking forward to it for ages and planned to meet some old sailing friends there. Our Plan B is to anchor near Île Piana. It’s an attractive and very popular anchorage but rather spoilt by the constant comings and goings of boats trailing large wakes with little consideration for others in the bay.
Since Bonifacio is fully booked the next day as well, we press on to Propriano, where we are given a very nice berth. We decide to rent a car and drive to Bonifacio instead. It costs as much to rent a Volkswagen Polo here as a Mercedes back in Germany but it drives well and takes us to some wonderful destinations in the area. Bonifacio with its unique natural harbour, surrounded by rock walls, and towering old town is of course teeming with tourists at this time of year. They pour into town from both land and sea – it takes us 30 minutes to cover the last 2km. What a change from our first trip here more than 30 years ago – back then Bonifacio was still a small, dreamy place that you almost had to yourself. Even with the crowds, it’s still a magical place.
When we get back to our car we find a big dent in it. Someone has bumped into it in the car park and driven away. Fortunately, I ticked the full insurance cover box in the contract saving us from a costly excess bill, even though we later discover a small
piece of paper under the windshield – a French witness saw everything and left us his phone number – what a kind gesture.
When we reach Ajaccio, the harbour master asks us to set our bow anchor rather than use a ground line when backing up to the quay. We have never done this before but on the second try it works quite well. We are in the old port with a high quay wall, which our passerelle can hardly reach so a bit of climbing is required. To make matters worse, the passerelle refuses to extend at all the following day. Fortunately there is a large German sailing yacht next to us, whose stern bridge we can use until ours is repaired. A tiny leak in the hydraulic hose is the cause but the effect is frustratingly big.
CALVI AND SAINT-FLORENT
An absolute must in Corsica is the journey on the narrow-gauge railway. As train enthusiasts we treat ourselves to the full four-hour journey from Ajaccio to Bastia and are not disappointed. The route leads through the beautiful mountain landscape offering breathtaking views of the surroundings even if the train itself seems rather neglected with dirty windows. We get the sense that tourists here are viewed more as an annoyance to be fleeced at every opportunity rather than welcome paying customers. It’s a shame as Corsica has so much to offer.
The next morning I am woken by a loud noise. I look to see what caused it but the only thing I can see is the cruise ship Aidaprima silently pulling into the terminal in the dark. The cause of the noise remains a mystery but I’m awake now and busy myself with the usual morning checks. The repair of the passerelle takes until mid-afternoon, meaning it’s too late to depart for Calvi. So our prepaid berth goes begging with no hope of a refund – another victory for the island’s profiteers. A weather front is due to arrive tomorrow bringing strong winds with it so we decide to get up early and leave at 6am to beat it. We are woken up by a violent thunderstorm and heavy rain. We have no option but to postpone our departure by two hours and steal a bit more shut-eye. Sure enough the storm moves on and we set off under a grey but dry sky. The wind hasn’t yet picked up but what will it be like in three to four hours? After the Passage de Sanguinaires, the swell increases a bit but conditions are still comfortable and we are making good progress. In this flat light Corsica looks even more unapproachable than normal – the cliffs appearing like solid castle walls.
Soon the wind starts to build, reaching a solid Force 6 gusting Force 7. However, its southwesterly direction plays to our strengths, pushing us northwards accompanied by a herd of white horses but few other boats. A little later we turn onto a northeastern course and now have the wind and waves directly behind us. Once we pass the Pointe de Revellata, we suddenly see Calvi perched on a rock in front of us – a wonderful and very welcome sight! The marina is nicely sheltered behind the rock but for safety’s sake, I turn Azura around in open water and back into the marina rather than attempting to turn in the narrow harbour. To our surprise, a wonderful German-speaking Marinero awaits us, helping us with the unlovely task of picking up the muddy bow lines.
The rest of the port personnel are not so welcoming, insisting we pay full whack not just for the coming night but also the previous one when we weren’t there. My request to stay on an extra night instead is swiftly rejected. Furthermore, none of my many adapters fit the shorepower cable, the port office doesn’t have one, and even the chandler can only offer to rent us a plug head that involves removing the current one, fitting the rented one and then reversing it all the following day. And the rental fee is €70. For one night!
Calvi deserves better. It is a charming and picturesque place that is a pleasure to stroll around and daydream. We dine outdoors in the town square opposite a church and under some trees. The food is good, the setting exceptional and the price completely normal – I’m relieved to see there is a fairer way of making a living here. When night falls, Calvi changes gear again and shows an even prettier side of life. A three-piece band gives an open-air concert, people mill about listening to the music while children play in front of the stage – it’s a delight to watch.
The next morning, I make a brief rail trip to Île Rousse and its high-lying lighthouse before we set off to Saint-florent.
Saint-florent is well protected at the end of a bay on the western side of Cap Corse. The port is very popular and enjoys the reputation of a Corsican St Tropez as the mooring fees attest to – a whopping €350 per night – our second most expensive berth of the year just behind Ibiza. Nevertheless, we treat ourselves and stay two nights because Saint-florent is the ideal starting point for exploring Cap Corse. The spectacular journey on the coastal road to the pretty Port de Centuri on the northern tip is worth the trip alone. But a trip to the Ersa lighthouse and Couvent Santa Maria is also very worthwhile.
On the way back we stop to have dinner in the dreamy
Auberge du Chat qui Pêche – it has a stunning outdoor seating area that hangs high above the sea like a seagull’s nest glued to the rocks. As we are about to make ourselves comfortable, we learn that credit cards are not accepted here, and as we’ve just blown our cash in two local vineyards we have no choice but to find somewhere else. So we end up in the equally attractive small market square in Nonza at a restaurant called A Stalla.
The starting point for our return trip to France will be Calvi again because it’s the shortest crossing. After our previous experience we choose to stay on a buoy in front of the port. You can rent them for less than half the cost of a berth. We spend our last night bobbing on the buoy and enjoying
the full panorama of Calvi viewed from the sea. Since we have a long cruise ahead of us, we leave early in the morning but not before a small boat comes by and offers fresh baguettes and croissants.
LEISURELY PACE
The crossing is calm, pleasant and interesting: we see at least four whales and one dolphin. Our destination of Menton gives us the green light even though we are coming back two days earlier than planned. When we arrive after a good ten hours, they don’t immediately remember us and once again we have to wrestle with the mooring lines before the harbour master appears on the scene and we can finally relax.
We have covered a little over 2,000nm this season in this first part of our Grand Tour of the Mediterranean, which is actually quite a low number for us. But this was deliberate; fewer months on board, more shore excursions and shorter distances between the ports were all part of the plan. It has enabled us to immerse ourselves in a lot more of the cultural delights of the Mediterranean – the salty sea dog often had to give way to the landlubber to make this possible but we don’t regret it one bit. This is the rhythm we are likely to return to for the next few years, because with its thousands of years of history there is simply so much to explore. This year, coronavirus allowing, we hope to circumnavigate Italy and will report back later. Until then, happy cruising to you all and stay safe!