On the water in Corsica – the west coast

Eventually the weather calmed down sufficiently and we made our departure for the west coast. Unfortunately, the wind had calmed down to such an extent that it meant that the iron spinnaker had to be called into play on a regular basis. These are apparently typical conditions for the Mediterranean; there is either no wind, or it blows a gale.

Spectacular anchorages

In this case, the no-wind conditions coincided with the second heatwave of the summer, with temperatures climbing well above 30°C.

These calm conditions, however, meant that there was almost no swell and so we got to anchor in a few rather spectacular places along the west coast that would normally be a bit too exposed, such as Baie de Nichiaretto, Golfe de Galéria, and Baie de Focolara.

An anchorage by ourselves

We spent about a week at the latter anchorage, mostly all by ourselves and it was, to put it simply, amazing! Here we swam, snorkelled and dived under orange cliffs and steep scrubby slopes (see our next blog ‘Corsica under water’).

Dolphins swam past in the evenings and we happily relaxed into the realisation that we had finally sailed to Corsica! The only time we had to share the anchorage, we got to share it with another Ovni, a 39, SY Tohora. As usual reciprocal visits were made to compare boats.

A rescue

It was not all fun and games though. One afternoon David rescued a panicking couple who had run out of fuel with their hired motorboat and were being carried by a fresh breeze and swell onto the rocks at the base of a cliff nearby.

Luckily David was able to tow them to Yuma, where they recovered from the shock and then got about organising to get picked-up by their rental company.

They were from Paris and he was showing his true love his ancestral island. Unfortunately, though, he was thoroughly Parisian and only vaguely Corsican and so was well out of his depth – several hikes had turned into hot forced marches and a pleasant boating trip had ended in near disaster. Said true love was somewhat underwhelmed by it all to say the least and he swore he was never going to leave Paris ever again.

The six o’clock wasp

In Baie de Focolara , and a couple of other spots around Corsica, we were also treated to a very peculiar bit of wildlife familiarity, something we called the ‘6 o’clock’ wasp’. At around 1800 every evening in this anchorage, just as we started cooking dinner, a single wasp would come flying in through the galley port, find some food, bite a bit off, and then fly back out again via the same port.

Several minutes later, it would be back again, flying straight into the galley through the same port, even if the boat had swung around, chew off another chunk of sausage/cheese/capsicum/whatever and head back off to shore.

This would be repeated several times, always by just the one wasp and always without any hesitation or dilly-dallying. And it happened every single day we were there. At one point we took Yuma to a different anchorage for a night and, when we came back the next day the wasp was waiting for us. Very cute, and apparently a thing on yachts in Corsica as we heard from other yachties that they had their own ‘6 o’clock’ wasp’ too.

More wind and swell coming

Meanwhile, with the wind picking up, our private anchorage had become rather rolly, so we moved further north to Baie de Crovani to find protection from the wind and swell. The medium-range forecast showed that stronger winds and swell were on their way and even Crovani would soon be untenable, so it was time to move south towards the protection of Marina Toni Rossi in Ajaccio.

We still had a couple of days to play with though and so along the way, we cruised through the spectacular Scandola nature reserve and anchored in a few other gorgeous spots such as Cala Vecchia near Girolata, Golfe de Peru and Baie de Sagone.

In these spots we got to do a few short hikes and swam in the extraordinarily clear, blue waters (see our next blogs ‘On land in Corsica’ and ‘Under water in Corsica’).

Fire-fighting planes

The heatwave conditions of this period meant that southern France, including around Marseille, had been suffering from large forest fires. We got to experience some of this first-hand when we arrived in Ajaccio to find a large fire burning at the back of the bay. During our approach to the marina, two firefighting planes made a very low fly-over to warn vessels to vacate the entrance to the port – we duly obeyed.

This was followed by another fly-over during which they dipped down to fill up their bellies with seawater before flew low over the fire where they dumped their loads. During the filling runs they came almost straight at us in a huge swirling cloud of spray – an impressive sight!

While these planes are also used extensively in Australia, we had never seen them in action as large forest fires generally occur in southern Australia, 1000s of kms away from where we live. We had seen them practising filling in various places in France (e.g. La Capte near Hyères), and would see it again at upcoming anchorages, but on this occasion, it was the real thing and very close at hand.

Watching the filling runs you really have to wonder how they do that without flipping the plane over – presumably that’s why they are training continuously, so that it works perfectly when needed.