Gosia and Stefan arrived and we were ready to go, weather was great again, after two nasty Mistrals, wind turned Gregale opposite to Zephyrus predicted by local meteorologists; we soon got used to those discrepancies.
Stefan being new guy and local got few more jobs assigned than others.
For another week he shell be responsible for collecting weather information from all available sources, education of the crew including French, social studies, geography, meteorology and shop, in the free time we would expect him with no obligation to negotiate with local tribes, shopping for food and wine, and strictly on volunteer base do some light cooking. We excused him from gym but he supposed to watch from the bench.
Kuba enthusiastically picked up transportation, drove away with as it turned out all necessary racing equipment as well as tee pot and corkscrew. Andrzej G. took diving and swimming. Stas (my father) took entertainment and dishes but also teaching history and basic philosophy. Gosia supposed to be a pathfinder telling us where to go, but having Stefan around she played hooky a lot.
We sailed out of estuary of the river Rhone through swamps full of pink flamingos, wild swans and beavers along industrial Camargue shores to Marseilles close enough to hear the tunes of La Marseillaise from the dome of the cathedral dominating the skyline, turned around Cap Croisette along white cliffs of the Callanques frog leap from beautiful Cassis and port of Bandol.
Picking up night destination was no brainier, since Google showed zero results in English for Senary sur Mer, the charts and guides promising 3.5 m deep sizable marina surrounded by trompe l’oeil covered walls of town remembering pope Gregory XI.
We run aground in the middle of narrow entrance, but with a little help from French divers motored into a picturesque harbor and illegally rafted along first docked boat. Andrzej and I jumped the fence and went for the successful search of the deep docking using our zinc fish on 3m string. For Kuba parking the van was equally adventurous silver monster being the second largest object in town after that white boat, he joined us in the restaurant after Moules Mariniere we had for appetizer. Scalopps were to die for and Gosia almost made love to the chef.
In the morning we continued up wind, zigzagging along the coast admiring the landscapes with Alps in the background, into the golf of Hyères finally anchoring in the shadow of Ile de Port-Cros, we spent the evening wondering around and eating delicious aioli dipped plankton and other things not from this planet.
We pulled the anchor and dinghy before the sunset and sailed into the open sea towards north shore of Corsica as recommended by Massimo Ferragamo, but the wind angle did not allow us to get there before the night, we compromised the beaches and views of the over 2000m high mountains and went straight to Calvi having Kuba surveing depth and docking scenario for us. There was plenty of disco music, few mohitos on the waterfront and light dinner on the boat. Fantastic sunrise unveiled the monumental panorama with picks of Monte Cinto behind medieval citadel.
The cruise along the west rocky shores of Corsica was spectacular, after several hours of overfilling our memory cards with images of red rock, course Corsican cheeses and smoked meats, we experienced first symptoms of superior happiness. Andrzej jumped off the bow into a bliss of 800 feet of mermaids infested blue, and later my dear father stripped for skinny deep while we were exploring the shore on the dinghy, he gave up and covered himself finally being such gentleman only to spare Gosia certain heart attack.
We continued south into a night highlighted only around Ajaccio, the birthplace of Napoleon Bonaparte. Andrzej woke me up around 4AM worried by the approaching cruise ship of huge proportions, we could clearly see its running lights heading straight for collision, he altered the course to avoid, but they seamed to be matching our maneuvers. GPS explained dissolved the mirage.
Soon we entered illuminated Bonifacio, Ulysses found that natural harbor during odyssey similar to ours, it’s cave-like narrow entrance remained him of Penelope, so he sent 3 of his men to search the landing, they were attacked by naked Corsicans covered with black hair who ripped the first two into shreds and ate their flesh, the third sailor swam to the ship to report Corsican hospitality. We entered quietly and docked in the middle of town avoiding provocation.
The oldest part of town surrounded by fortifications was built on the top of the huge ship shaped cliff, on the way up their my father admitted for the first time in his life that he is not 20, we all used few minutes to take a deep breath and kept going. It was worth the trip and I was afraid we will start getting dangerous stupid happy ideas again so after some souvenir shopping, we turned back grabbing few bottles of grenach, some wrinkled aromatic goat and sheep cheese, prisuttu cured ham, and dark figatelli sausage perhaps made of German tourists, and motored away.
We made large figure 8 looping around Massimo’s favored islands Lavezzi and Cavallo changed to Italian flag along Santa Magdalena and Caprera into Tyrrhenian Sea. Weather was the calmest ever, in recorded history of the Strait of Bonifacio what made Gosia extremely irritated, so when we turned south around Porto Cervo she offered us good dinner in exchange for hoisting the sails for her to drive the final hour of the trip, we complied after negotiating desert, but I ended paying the bill again anyway.
Kuba drove Stas and Stefan to Olbia airport in the morning and brought some of the racing crew on the way back, Jan Maier was there waiting for us after the Rolex Maxi Boat Cup in Porto Cervo and he joined Andrzej Kuba and myself in efforts to convert the boat once again.
Seeing our papa living his lifelong dream was the best present Andrzej and I could get, thank you Gosia for inviting him!