Having booked a berth in advance, the Calvi marina staff saw fit to place us on the premium ‘A’ dock right next to the ‘action’.

This was all very well but the loud music went on until 2am and rather took the gilt off the convenience.

The visit ticked all the boxes for the ladies and a turn around the Citadel was followed by a swim off the beach.

Since my last visit, the Citadel has had something of a makeover with many of the crumbling buildings and ramparts having been rendered thus losing much of the charm and character but presumably preventing further deterioration.

The ladies particularly enjoyed the ‘people watching’ from their vantage point on deck with all the coming and going from the large vessels surrounding us – it must be a girl thing.

Having to leave our berth by noon, the 100 mile overnight passage to the temporary berth in Saint Laurent du Var marina required little more than a ‘bimble’ under an idling engine over the mirror like surface of the windless sea.

This was very much to the liking of the crew and in the late afternoon we stopped the engine and put a polypropylene floating line over the stern with a fender tied on the end and we all had a swim.

With the girls reluctant to sleep in their cabins, the saloon was transformed into a double bed and they dozed while watching a succession of DVDs through the night.

It is always interesting to eavesdrop on the VHF radio exchanges of the authorities and the superyachts. We marvelled at the disclosure that ‘Ocean Victory’, on passage from Portofino in Italy to Monaco had 51 crew and 11 passengers on board. We have looked it up and it is the tenth largest in the world at 140m long. It has six pools and its tender is larger than Hejira! Needless to say, it is owned by a Russian oligarch.

Timing our arrival for just after 9am, we hoped that the marina office would be open and able to instruct the staff of our reservation and berth allocation.

This is the final blog of my 3000 mile (far, far too many!) summer adventure and I have a long list of jobs, repairs and additions to undertake over the winter which will keep me busy and justify regular trips to Nice. After leaving Baie des Anges on the 1^st of June, I have visited the following destinations: Ostia (Rome), Vieste, Venice, Rovinj-Croatia, Pula, Cres, Punat, Simuni, Dalmacija, Vodice, Trogir, Milna, Korcula, Dubrovnik, Otranto-Italy, Gouvia-Corfu, Lakka-Paxos, Gaios, Mongonisi, Marzamemi-Sicily, Valetta-Malta, Blue Lagoon-Camino, Kelibia-Tunisia, Villasimius-Sardinia, Santa Maria Navaresse, Costa Smerelda, Bonifacio-Corsica, Porto Pollo, Ajaccio, Girolata, Calvi and finally Saint Laurent Du Var back in France.

I am leaving the girls on board for a week while I return to the UK. They will no doubt find a favourite beach bar and enjoy a relaxing dose of sun and sea.

 

Paula, Marie and Kate write:-

After the euphoria of the previous days badge collection for knot tying we were unfortunately stripped of this accolade due to poor fender attachments and warp rope coiling which left us feeling in the doldrums!

However, our tank emptying and pumping prowess was tested once again and we gained level 3 with commendation for accurate and skilful release.  In the galley, badges were awarded for the variety of skills involved in preparing meals, snacks and drinks throughout the 20 hour crossing.

Captain Underpants was very grateful for his restful crossing and therefore promoted us from Level 1 Watch Team skills to Level 2.  A thrilling evening enjoyed by all, with beautiful sunsets and sunrises, following a few wonderful days visiting picturesque harbours and gorgeous beaches.

All round the experience of sailing our floating hotel has been a very positive one and one that we look forward to repeating and gaining more badges in the future.

Paula has for many years taken holidays on Hejira and her predecessors, mostly with her two friends, Marie and Kate who go all the way back to Southampton University. These holidays have always been static and invariably in my absence. They have included locations like the Canaries, the Algarve, the Riviera and various UK destinations like central London! This current visit was to break new ground in that they have not replaced, but joined me in Ajaccio in Corsica and for an actual passage!

Our itinerary is to sail to a bay and anchor overnight and then on to Calvi from where we are to make the 100 mile overnight crossing back to Baie des Anges near Nice.

Something of a spanner was dropped into the works however. A courtesy Email to Baie des Anges marina notifying them of our return was met with the news that they don’t have a berth available until we take up our booked winter berth on the 1^st of September. Apparently, no amount of juggling could make anything available sooner and I couldn’t expect Paula to move Hejira around in my absence when I return to Blightly and to leave her on board with her girlfriends. Thankfully, Sonia in Baie des Anges used her contacts and influence to secure a berth in Saint Laurent du Var which is between BDA and the Airport. My Cruising Association app notes ‘There are plenty of bars and restaurants alongside the marina so it was a little noisy but not too bad’, ideal then for 3 ladies on holiday! It goes on to note that it is a 30 minute walk from the Airport so ideal for me back and forth.

Our overnight in Girolata was universally enjoyed with a trip ashore in the complimentary water taxi.

At €64 for the privilege of being packed into the bay with fore and aft mooring buoys it seemed a little steep but the crystal clear water was a joy to swim in

.

An evening game of dominoes in the cockpit became surprisingly competitive and argumentative – apparently it is my influence!

Our passage to Calvi took us along the stunning Scandola Nature Reserve with its rugged cliffs and no sign of habitation or human interference.

Paula, Kate and Marie write:-

After our initiation into knot tying, {three new types learnt} we managed to not lose any fenders or mooring ropes, we received our level 1 knot tying badge which we all are wearing proudly on our official crew chests!

Having a great time, weather lovely, calm sea {thus far} wish you were here.

Our passage to our overnight stop at Porto Pollo was only 30 miles but was memorable for the size of the swell left over from the previous gale in the Gulf du Lion. Keen to tuck ourselves out of the undulations we opted to pick up a mooring buoy behind a reef and close enough to the shore to swim for our beer.

So, with money and shirts in a Tupperware, we emerged amongst the rocks and walked to a beach bar for our traditional libation.

With a 20 mile passage to our booked berth in the old port marina in Ajaccio and with no wind, I will be badgering the crew to start on the clean up so we may have some time in hand to seek out the rugby in the afternoon.

Paula and her two girlfriends arrive early tomorrow morning with the current crew leaving on the return flight so this will be the last missive from the ‘Beetham boys’. We have had a very memorable 12 day cruise since they joined Hejira in Malta 575 miles ago taking in Comino, Tunisia, Sardinia and Corsica. In truth, it was an excessively ‘bullish’ itinerary but that has been a feature of my sailing this year and I never seem to learn. I justify the ‘whistle stop’ nature of these cruises on the basis that they are tasters and I will return to indulge in the coming years. Carl has produced the most exceptional meals, sometimes in difficult conditions and we have only taken one meal ashore and that was on the day they arrived in Valletta. Tom has been great company and has picked things up very quickly. His blog inputs have been very entertaining and embellished the accounts with a more ecologically and socially responsible perspective.

Carl writes:-

Ahoy there, Shipmates! Here, in no particular order, are my maritime musings from the poop deck:

Sailing’s great fun but, within the Med, it happens surprisingly infrequently as there either seems to be too much wind, or not enough. Furthermore, no amount of Nick’s attempts to fill the sails with his own ‘wind’ seemed to do the job. Didn’t stop him continually trying though.

And irrespective of the direction we were travelling, why was the wind always on our nose?

When the skipper puts his life-jacket on it’s sensible to follow his lead.

Scopoderm anti-sea-sickness patches are God’s gift to the seafaring community.

Nothing about ‘the heads’ (wc) can be described as comfortable but when you gotta go, you gotta go.

Serve the crew anything comprising onions, garlic and chilli and they’ll go to bed happy. Mind, fail to plan the meals beforehand and you’re planning to fail.

Lee Child’s ‘Jack Reacher’ novels really are gripping page-turners.

Keep your eyes peeled and you’ll be pleasantly surprised. We saw dolphins, flying-fish and a turtle.

Sailors are a friendly, welcoming bunch but woe-betide any other skipper who clatters their fenders a little too forcefully. Also, was the phrase ‘one-up-man’s-ship’ coined by the sailing fraternity as they seem extremely quick to criticise and take the mick out of others’ vessels?

Irrespective of the supposed yachtsman’s code concerning where/how to pass and who exactly has right-of-way, ‘might is right’!  Choose to argue at your peril.

Hejira is no gin-palace and she’s a well-equipped, fine sea-faring vessel. Pity the same can’t be said of her scurvy, malingering crew!

Live and let live on-board. Three men and a boat will result in three very different opinions but remember, you’re all in it together and there ain’t room for petty arguments and sulking. Ultimately, what the skipper says goes, goes.

As it transpires, it’s not Job but Paula, long-suffering First Lady of the good ship Hejira that has the patience of a saint. The girl deserves a medal. And a divorce!

Technology seems to play a great, and increasingly prolific, role on board. Or perhaps that’s just in Captain Hook’s daily life? The sextant remained in its box for the duration.

Keep things shipshape and Bristol fashion or it’s going to be a messy transit. Do the job once and do it right.

Our very own Captain Smollett’s blood pressure does tend to rise by several notches the closer we get to a mooring…

The coastal landscapes of Sardinia and Corsica are truly stunning and I would want to return to both at some point in the future. Having said that, both islands have extremely dubious ‘four-headed, blindfolded sailing’ flags that would undoubtedly fail muster with the PC brigade.

Sadly, topless bathing on the beaches of Southern Europe appears to have fallen out of favour.

Radio Four’s ‘Today’ programme remains the mainstay of daily news. Closely followed by Ed Reardon’s Week, Cabin Pressure, Dead-Ringers and Desert Island Discs. Thankfully, I’ll never be old enough for The Archers. Or golf.

Write drunk. Edit sober.

 

Wee Tom writes:-

Well what a time it’s been. We’ve had many highs and very few lows and I come away having learnt and experienced a great deal upon the bonny blue. Here are just a few reflections from the last 12 days.

Sailing is like S&M. It requires rope, knots, close-proximity and it ain’t for everyone.

Luckily, I get it!

Like a cow with a calf, woe betide the person that gets between Nick and his blog!

The coats that invented Scopiderm deserve a Nobel Peace Prize.

Malta is nice, Sardinia is nicer and Corsica has croissants. No brainer.

Unless you want Captain Jack Sparrow’s judgement crashing down on you, look up what a lazarus locker or a transom is before you arrive – it’s like being bossed around by someone speaking tongues!

Heading west into a setting sun as the stars begin to twinkle in the fiery purple hues, is pretty special.

Who knew there were so many billionaires?

There’s few better way to travel than on calm seas with big winds.

Boats = freedom

If under sail, one has right of way, in theory…unless they’re bigger than you…or Italian.

The French and the Italians have got a lot of things right, socially we can learn a lot.

Plastic waste is bad, especially in the sea.

If encountering officialdom in Tunisia, be sure to brush up on D Trump’s ‘Art of the Deal’, beforehand.

If Captain Hook offers you passage on the Hejira, snap his hand off (just leave his keyboard finger intact!), you won’t regret it.

Before I forget this story, I have to tell you about our arrival in Bonifacio. We had pre-booked and were allocated a good berth on the ‘active’ side of the harbour next to a nice but old Halberg Rassey. The very tanned and clearly seasoned Italian owner ran around deploying fenders as we came in but we made not even the remotest contact with his pride and joy. Once we had moored, he beckoned me to him in a conspiratorial way to hear what he had to say. He said behind his hand “I am so pleased you are not a French boat”. I shook his hand!

Carl and Tom were ‘made up’ with the destination as I knew they would be. We were not made up however with the price of our ‘dirty beers’ at a monstrous €10 each – we had run up a bill of over €60 before realising.

Having been thus ‘stung’ Carl, with a ‘bee in his bonnet’ refused to stop for a beer when we climbed up to the citadel and I failed to find any bars with substantially cheaper beer. Strange chap, Carl!

Carl writes:-

Ahoy there, Shipmates! Move over, Marbella. Au revoir, Port Grimaud. Sayonara, St Tropez. Push-off, Puerto Banus. The new-kid-on-the-block, beautiful Bonifacio, certainly lived-up to Captain Nemo’s billing and proved to be as ‘bonny’ as a harbour could be. With its entrance miraculously hidden until you’re right on top of it, the most-natural of marinas opens up to be the Koh-i-Noor of the Corsican coastline.

We had arrived following a relatively short and energetic, enjoyable sail and Nick skilfully guided us into a tight, narrow berth with n’er a fender touched. Sadly, he then less-skilfully guided us to the aforementioned quay bar where we experienced piracy of the highest order – ten pieces of eight for each proverbial tot of rum. I was only disappointed the maitre d’i wasn’t tottering about on a wooden leg with a parrot perched on her shoulder.

A very tasty vessel-cooked chorizo & vegetable risotto saved the day, not to mention our rapidly-dwindling ‘whip’ and a lovely inexpensive evening was enjoyed by all. You can take the boy out of the north…

Wee Tom writes:-

The last 48 hours have been the ‘days of the supers’. Since leaving the Sardinian coastline we have seen a vast array of floating hardware that looks more P&O than personal transport. These floating behemoths loom out of the seas, all chrome, no conscience and one can’t help but wonder about the owners of said ships. From my very limited experience, seafaring sailing is a bit of an old boys’ club, and a well off boys’ club at that – but these floating hotels take all that to a different level.

Take our sighting of what we now know to be ‘Yacht A’ (see previous blog). A cursory nosey on the internet informed us that the boat itself was built for an estimated £360 million, thus making it the most expensive, sail assisted motorboat in history. Along with this you were talking about a crew of 54 men and women, significantly more than most small/medium businesses in the UK. Given that a superyacht is very rarely lived on full time by the owners and how high the ongoing costs, it must be purely pocket money for these tycoons – an outlet for people who literally have no idea what else to spend their obscene assets on.

But fear not, the owner of Yacht A, a Mr. Andrey Melnichenko is described online as an ‘industrialist and philanthropist’, so I’m sure that the world’s poor are over the moon at his little treat to himself. He would really have had to graft as it’s well known that the Russian economy is open and honest and not dominated by ex-KGB and soviet elites that don’t operate in a completely corrupt and croney-esque manner, dangling the baubles of prosperity in the form of lucrative government contracts to those most in favour. Probably.

I can almost hear those metaphorical corks popping in Oxfam’s HQ as we speak!

The wind was due to pick up so we modestly put the main up with a reef and let the full jib out as it is easy to reef. It wasn’t long before we were furling the jib to be replaced by the staysail and putting a second reef in the main. This did at least mean that we had a spirited sail and even with this sailplan, with gusts of over 30 knots, we made very good speed.

Of the notable incidents, we saw what looked like a volcano erupting with smoke emanating from the top of a mountain. As we approached downwind, we smelt burning vegetation so it was clearly a fire. We then had front row seats to an aerial display by two firefighting planes which continually circled picking up sea water and dropping it on the fire. As we left the conflagration behind us there was no diminution in the level of smoke so it may have been a long job..

We chose to press on, into the teeth of the gale and anchor overnight. Carl had prepared much of the curry using the dubious meat (?) balls in the foreign tins and it was OK – ish.

The blow is due to diminish overnight then increase again in the straits of Bonefacio in the afternoon. Mooring in Bonefacio can be something of a lottery (I have made an on-line application…) so we are planning to arrive soon after lunch (and before the next blow) hopefully after the exodus and before the newbies arrive. Bonefacio is a stunning destination with the citadel standing on the promontory, it’s a must do for anyone who has never visited before. I remember being there on the 14^th of July many years ago and witnessing all the fireworks against the background of the battlements. What a privilege this sailing lark can be.

I posted pictures of two ‘stink pots’ in Corfu a few weeks ago claiming them to be the most ugly boats I had seen. I now have to accept that they have been eclipsed by an even uglier vessel anchored off Porto Cervo and to make matters worse it is a ‘quasi’ sailing yacht. It needs to be drubbed out of the fraternity! It seems that Carl disagrees and Tom is diplomatically sitting on the fence – we need a vote on this – please leave a comment with your opinion so we can decide – Carl or me !

Carl writes:-

The proverb ‘be careful for what you wish’ came home to roost with a vengeance yesterday. Having spent the majority of the journey gently chiding Captain Codswalop that we seem to go everywhere under motor, he decided to dial in some wind from the Gods. And my word, was that wind or what!

Gusting at over 30 knots, Nick, informed us that this, if it continued, would be a Force 7 gale, and we should all don our life-jackets without delay. Wee Tom & I dutifully followed our orders but only after depleting the stomach-saving Scopoderm stock yet again. Torrid stuff but such fantastic fun as that’s what we’re here for.

Furthermore, a free-anchorage in amongst the superyachts of Europe’s establishment elite and dinner courtesy of several out-of-date Spanish cans, reminded us that we don’t always need the expensive pampering of gilded harbours and marinas. Mind, I think one was cat food.

Also, what on earth is Nick going on about wrt the boat that needs drubbing-out of the fraternity? Are we looking at the same vessel? Beauty is certainly in the eye of the beholder and to these eyes the boat is drop-dead gorgeous, very possibly the most stunning piece of brutal, Bauhaus-esque, slab-sided minimalist design I’ve ever cast mine upon. He sees Kathy Burke where I envisage Bridget Bardot. His Mrs Doubtfire to my Ms Hepburn. Theresa May or Carla Bruni? Settle the argument for us?

Wee Tom writes:

In our salt-encrusted clothes, sailing-stubble, matted hair and understated Southerly 135 we represent, in my eyes, the new upstarts on the block – the beatniks of the briny.

Who exactly am I kidding, we live in Sunningdale for heaven’s sake! But even so, the sentiment is important to me. Before this trip I had no idea how easy it was to anchor off a sheltered cove or beach and feel more isolated and upon an untrodden path. As a man that has recently called-time on the steady, professional ‘career’ to venture into the wilds of the self-employed ‘gig-economy’, who owns a campervan and hasn’t paid for any overnight spot in two years, I am always on the lookout for my very own ‘The Beach’ location. I love the mystery, the intrigue and the feeling of doing something ever so slightly frowned upon.

We’ve stayed in some stunning marinas where you can plug in the AC, use the hot showers and go for a number-two without your knees round your head. Nonetheless, maybe because of my campervan background, or perhaps my northern blood, for me the true adventure is found outside of these oases of the ocean.

Freedom is a powerful feeling and you only need a second to consider the history of ships to know they have always represented the ultimate freedom – freedom from the law, freedom from taxes, freedom to rob, to claim distant lands and to pillage. We spend our lives adhering to static convention: put your roots down, build an extension, commute on this train to be on time for this job, for this boss. Keep focused on the family and filling-up the fridge as song-writing bard, Justin Currie once told us. Well I say f*ck ‘em. I’ll drop my anchor in the blue waters and for a week at least, write my own damn rule book – it’s a pirate’s life for me!