Going with the blow

Supposedly the Tyrrhenian Sea has on average one major storm per summer. So how is it that we just finished waiting out yet another Mistral – number four now, not counting the big one at the beginning of this journey at the end of June in Porto Rotondo?

When we left Porto de Taverna (see my letter to Bastia post) we were set for seven or 10 days without touching shore. The plan was to find nice anchorages on our way south along the Corsican east coast, stay where we like it and be self-sufficient. Well, we had exactly one night in nature. It was a dazzlingly beautiful and quiet one, lit only by moonlight and soothed to sleep by the soft rippling of tiny waves against the thin fiberglass wall that separates my ears from the water. Because the coast is shallow and straight like Qualicum Beach on Vancouver Island we had to anchor quite far out, way off the seemingly endless beach with no other soul in sight, neither on water nor on land.

In the morning the forecast surprised us calling for 35 knots out of the northeast accompanied by one meter waves for tomorrow and the following days. On this part of Corsica’s east coast there are no safe anchorages for northeast gales. So we had to decide to go into the closest harbor quickly before it filled up too much. And a good decision it turned out to be because many boaters had the same idea: When we passed the Solanzara marina breakwater as early as 2 p.m. that afternoon there were five other yachts in waiting position ahead of us. The friendly marinero girls in their nimble dinghies managed to squeeze us in between two very friendly Italian sailboats. According to them this was the last spot for boats our size available. Phew!

Solenzara emerged to be a super spot to wait out a storm: great neighbors, a stunning lagoon with turquoise water and white sandy beach in walking distance for the kids and a relaxed little town with cafés, boulangerie and grocery stores. Not to forget a cool adventure climbing park where we all challenged ourselves for a whole day. For my part, I was plenty challenged with 300 meter long zip lines crossing rivers and balancing along wires 20 meters up over the ground. And it looked like the kids were, too. None of us made it to level four or five. You had to be a monkey or a wire rope artist to manage those breakneck ascents and heights.

Once the entrance fee was paid a guide fitted climbers as young as five with a harness and roller and gave a short introduction on how to use the equipment. That was it. No waiver to sign, nobody making sure visitors stayed on the routes assigned for their age. Leonie did level three, even though that level was reserved for 12 year olds and up. In Victoria you have to sign a waiver before you can participate in a Lululemon yoga-sweat-it event on Johnson Street as Bill read in an announcement from that same day. I love how relaxed the French are.

Solenzara kept us for three nights. On the peak storm evening the marina was so full they were allowing people to take shelter on the fuel dock. We had a spot on the other side of the breakwater where the waves at times broke so high the spray came raining down on our stern deck. But inside the marina the water was quiet like a pond, which made for good night sleeps. It feels quite cozy to be bundled up under duvet covers down in the den-like “bedroom” while the wind is ruffling your hair every once in a while when it finds it way through the hatches.

Once the weather settled, boat after boat was leaving the marina. We did the same thing ignoring Leonie’s protest, who wanted to stay in this nice town. She didn’t know that San Ciprianu, the bay where we were headed, would be just as nice and who we were going to meet there. Of course, we didn’t know either.

Going with the blow has treated us to such amazing unexpected gifts. This is how life should be lived all the time, isn’t it? On a sailboat you have no choice to do it any other way. We were quite miffed about not being able to go all the way to Sicily to explore that area in the fall. Meanwhile, we are very much enjoying the relaxed pace the shorter sea mileage has rewarded us with. We are on Day 8 in San Ciprianu, the large picturesque bay north of Porto Vecchio in southeast Corsica. This is only partly due to the Mistral I mentioned in the beginning.We also met the perfect sailing family to hang out with, had to go horseback riding and celebrate my birthday. We’ll tell you more about that another time.

San Cipriano beach: putting the finishing touches to the mermaid Leonie and I sculptured from the sand