Crossing from Marseille to Corsica
Almost three weeks after arriving in Marseille, we continued our trip with Corsica as our main destination for this summer. During those three weeks, while Yuma was safely tucked away in Le Vieux Port in Marseille, we had been in the Netherlands celebrating Frederieke’s mum’s 88th birthday at her new home and helping empty her old house.
View towards Marseille.
Once back in Marseille, despite being eager to get going, we had to wait for a couple of days for a mistral to blow through before we left for Corsica. Of course, real (crazy French!) sailors would have simply taken the 40kt lift to Corsica. Not us wimpy Australian sailors though.
Château d’If on one of islands in the Calanques National Park near Marseille. It was a notorious prison both in real life and in fiction (The Count of Monte Cristo).
Why Corsica?
I (F) was particularly keen to visit Corsica, as it was where I did my first-ever diving fieldtrip; at the marine research station Stareso, near Calvi, back in 1987. The diving, the project I did on home ranges of octopuses, and the island itself, had made such an impression that I had been eager to return ever since. And sailing to Corsica was a very special way to do this!
Our anchorage at Île Pomègues, just south off Marseille.
This visit was also fulfilling an agreement between David and myself. We had sailed to Svalbard in the summer of 2023. This was very much at David’s initiative – I thought Svalbard was going to be way too cold, having become completely ‘tropicalised’ after living in tropical Far North Queensland since 1997.
The Port Frioul light at sunset, near our anchorage at Île Pomègues.
However, we had agreed that if we went to Svalbard (D’s destination) then we’d also go to Corsica (F’s destination), even though this involved a long detour into the Mediterranean (not something D was particularly enthusiastic about). So here we were, off to Corsica.
Sailing through the Calanques National Park.
Slow sailing
Now, Marseillais sailors say that Corsica is a mere two days sail from Marseille but, being champagne sailors, it took us a week to arrive in Calvi on the island’s northwest corner. En route, we stopped at several nice anchorages such as Île Pomègues, Plage de la Madrague, La Capte near Hyères, and Anse de la Galère at Porquerolles.
Everywhere in France you see young kids learning to sail in small dinghy’s. No wonder France turns out such excellent sailors!
Our excuses for taking this long are varied and somewhat embarrassing (i) forgetting our boat registration papers at the marina office in Marseille, meaning we had to return to pick them up, (ii) having a sore back from taking a fall while trying to catch a train, and (iii) sitting out another mistral at anchor with winds sitting in the high 30’s.
Slow sailing along the south coast, with impressive thunderstorms building up in the afternoon.
At Madrague, well after midnight, we were also treated to a vicious lightning storm with sudden strong gusts during which a neighbouring boat dragged their anchor and set off on a tour of the anchorage (luckily heading away from us).
Safely anchored at La Capte during another Mistral, together with half of the sailing fleet in the western Med.
And at La Capte, Yuma played a leading role as a stage for a practice session with the French lifesavers, involving a rescue of a drowning man-over-board – good fun!
Interesting weather at our anchorage at Anse de la Galère, Porquerolles, the evening before our crossing to Corsica.
Goosewinging our way to Corsica.
Arrival in Calvi
The final 23 hour crossing from Porquerolles to Calvi ended up being a rather sloppy, cold and wet affair with just a few flying fish, a handful of dolphins and one sea turtle to lighten the mood.
Sunset over the Mediterranean.
We made our approach early hours of the morning and, not being familiar with the harbour decided to slow Yuma down in order to arrive in daylight.
Sights (and smells) of Corsica first thing in the morning.
As we came in, we were welcomed by the smell of the maquis (scrubland). Famous as the fragrance of Corsica, this is the smell of the vegetation of the island, including in its mix well-known kitchen herbs such as thyme, myrtle, rosemary, lavender, sage, and laurel, and ‘immortelles’ (Helichrysum italicum).
Ce parfum c’est la Corse! Unlike the Corsican character in Asterix en Corse, we decided to stay onboard when we first smelled Corsica.
The first Corsican sights to greet us were the lighthouse at Pointe de la Revellata, the research station Stareso, the spectacular Citadel of Calvi, and, in the bay itself at least five other aluminium sailing yachts of which three were Ovnis, one a Garcia and one a Boreal. What a welcome, we felt very at home!
The Revellata lighthouse, and tucked away at the centre the research station Stareso, at Pointe de la Revellata.
Waiting for good weather
The next ten days or so we spent switching back and forth between Calvi Bay and Golfe de la Revellata as dictated by changes in wind direction, choosing which ever anchorage provided the most comfortable conditions in the consistently strong winds.
The Citadel of Calvi. The bay of Calvi is to the left.
We were keen to explore the rugged west coast of Corsica, but for that the winds needed to calm down considerably to make the exposed anchorages on that coast somewhat comfortable. So, for the time being we decided to stay in the northwest.
The two anchorages we moved between. Calvi Bay (left, middle) and Golfe de la Revellata (right). Not bad.
Being anchored near Calvi was not a chore by any means though, with several nice hikes nearby, beautiful swimming and snorkelling in crystal clear and warm water, and delicious ice creams at Glace Raugi (see next blogs, ‘On land in Corsica’, and ‘Under water in Corsica’).
Sailing between Calvi Bay and Golfe de la Revellata, we past the Citadel numerous times; it never got boring.
Plus, we got to visit another Ovni 365, Mosquito, and compared notes on the differences between our two our boats and the joys and aggravations of owning an Ovni.
What are “ champagne sailors”? I imagine you sailing with a flute or a coupe in one hand, and the bar in the other, and the bottle in the ice nearby in the desk ! How many bottles to cross the distance between Marseille and Calvi? It took one night with the ferry, and I had no champagne in the late 70s.
Ha! Champagne sailors are people who only sail when conditions are so mild that you can sail while sipping champagne from a flute without spilling a drop. We aspire to be champagne sailors but somehow conditions are too often anything but champagne. So much so such that we don’t even bother carrying champagne or champagne flutes on board. Happily, I don’t think much of champagne as a drink.