My friend PJ joined Andrzej and I for delivery back to France. It was rainy and gray through atrocious waters of Strait of Bonifacio, but the sun came out on the second morning and than came the wind straight from the Rhone Valley right when we entered the Gulf of Lion.
That was my 4th Mistral since we arrived a month ago.
PJ would tell you better story about his very first Mistral that scared the living crop out of him and made me bear away towards nearest sheltered harbor only 3 hours away. We landed salt coated in Port of Bormes near old village of Bormes-les-Mimosas below flanks of forested Maures mountain to wait for the nearest weather window 4 days later. There wasn’t much to do since we don’t play petanque otherwise known as the game of boules. The trip to St.Tropez turned into fiasco after 6 hour walk in search of bus stop, and we were stuck with wine, baguettes and cheese. 4 days of story telling from memory, flew by promptly and we sailed again downwind for a change, my brother, my friend and I brushing against the mighty Callanques, that gave us a base for Statue of Liberty, pillars of Alexandria and many other unforgettable stone objects.
I polished the bottom, repacked everything again and four days later left with Kuba heading south towards Balearic island of Mallorca.
Up wind again in my first Libeccio, it got quite violent on the second night with pretty lightning flying all directions and thunder capable of wakeing dead up. We survived but it banged up the harbor in Palma with gusts over 60kt and we couldn’t find safe place to park. We ended up tangled in anchor chains and rope in the back alleys of European yachting capital. The ship was late again and there were issues with union labor, but we made new friends and met Daniel Calero of Lanzarote.
