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| First touch of the water |
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| Away at last |
On 29 April I flew back
down to Marseilles, accompanied by Christoph my crew member for the
coming season, and by 2 May she was back in the water; by 4 May we
were off, heading westwards on the first sail of the season.
With a brisk NE wind
blowing we motored upwind for the first 4 miles out of Port Saint
Louis to give the engine a reasonable trial (checking my workmanship
on the winter maintenance) and then as we exited the bay we set full
sail and enjoyed a three hour reach along the sand dune lined beaches
of the “bouche du
Rhone” and along the Camargue coastline. By 1600 we were anchored
in the bay at Beauduc, enjoying afternoon tea, and contemplating
dinner. The wind was offshore and we were looking forward to a quiet
night.
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| First swim of the year |
Next morning the sky
was somewhat overcast but the wind remained light to moderate, south
easterly, making it an ideal day to make some ground to the west. A
review of the available anchorages along the coast showed that we
were missing nothing if we cut across the bay directly to Cap d'Agde,
about 40 miles, where we planned to spend a couple of days at anchor,
winds permitting. Before leaving we rigged all of the spinnaker gear
in anticipation of a spinnaker run across the bay. We were not
disappointed! Having sailed off the anchor, under mainsail alone, we
quickly dragged the new spinnaker out of its stowage and within a few
minutes it was set and looking splendid. A stroke of good fortune had
had me discover a “second hand” spinnaker, of exactly the right
size, available in Chichester, not far from home. On the pre purchase
inspection it was obvious it had never been out of its bag and was
still covered in small lengths of cotton from the sail-making loft
floor; as further confirmation of light/no previous use it also had
no sail numbers on it. With the addition of Kurukulla's sail number
it still worked out at 60% of the price of a new spinnaker and came
with a free “Spee squeezer” (a device for hoisting and lowering
spinnakers without getting them twisted or caught up in the rigging)
the worth of which I am yet to be convinced! The day passed with a
single gybe when the wind shifted to the north east but was otherwise
uneventful. The spinnaker proved to be a very stable sail and a
considerable improvement on its predecessor!
We anchored at Cap
d'Agde at 1900 in a light onshore breeze but with a forecast that it
would turn offshore during the latter part of the night making the
anchorage somewhat safer. There are no bays or islands along this
coast in or near which you can to go and find shelter! The wind
prediction proved correct and by 0900 next day there was a healthy
offshore wind blowing; what was not expected was a significant swell
running against the wind onto the beach. To call it an uncomfortable
night would be an understatement! The wind against swell combination
meant that we spent the night rolling heavily every time we turned
across the swell with all the contents of the boat that could move
creating a symphony of noise. By 0700 the swell was crashing heavily
on to the beach and the curling crests were initiating not far ahead
of us. We decided to keep watch, sit it out and stay put, waiting for
the wind to calm the swell; it eventually did so, by mid afternoon,
but not before providing us with an uncomfortable morning.
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| Sunset at Agde |
By evening the swell
had all but gone and we remained at anchor, in flat water, some 75m
from the beach. All we needed now was for the temperature of the
water to rise 10 deg C and we would be able to swim ashore. At this
time of year the climate here in southern France is noticeable colder
than that of Greece and Turkey! Cap d'Agde may be one of the largest
naturist resorts in Europe but it would be a brave soul who bared all
to go swimming today.
Next morning dawned
bright and clear; a good day for round two of the French Presidential
election! The previous night had been the complete opposite of the
night before, calm sea and light to moderate offshore breeze keeping
us stable and silent. Needless to say both crew members slept like
the dead after the disturbed sleep of the night before!
Notwithstanding that it was Sunday the plan was to have a maintenance
day and tackle some of the niggling items that always reveal
themselves when you first go to sea. As the day went on the wind got
up in strength again but remained off the shore, the temperature
however did not, hence the majority of work was done below!
Late night Sunday the
news broke that Monsieur Macron had secured
the French presidency and the wind dropped giving us a quiet and calm
night at anchor. I am not sure which event we welcomed most! Monday
was again to be spent at anchor doing odd jobs and sheltering from
the wind which had again gotten up from the west holding us safely
offshore in flat-ish water. That lasted until Wednesday when we woke
early and move into the marina at Agde. Just in time to avoid an
onshore wind later in the day. From here we spent until Sunday
morning doing various jobs around the boat and exploring Agde which I
have to say is like the town that time forgot. Full of shops and
restaurants that are struggling to survive on one or two clients per
night. Fortunately we had all we needed onboard...
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| The tow off the beach at Leucate |
Sunday dawned bright
but overcast. By 1030 we were manoeuvring off the jetty and heading
for the Capitanerie to pay our dues before
heading out of the harbour and setting off en route south making our
way towards Spain. For the first hour it was a light airs fetch on
starboard tack and we were making a respectable 4.5 knots; by mid day
however the wind had dropped to near zero and we were forced to
resort to the use of the engine if we wanted to make more than a knot
or so. Fortunately the lack of wind didn't last too long and an hour
later we were on Port Tack, laying the course, for Leucate, our
destination for the day. By 1730 we were anchored off the beach,
outside the harbour, in a flat calm sea and enjoying a Gin and Tonic,
whilst watching the spectacle of an earlier arrival being towed off
the beach by the local lifeboat; either his anchor had dragged (which
seemed unlikely in the light winds) or he had anchored too close to
the beach and was caught out by a change of wind direction. When we
arrived we had noted how close to the beach he was but sadly there
was nothing that we could do for him in the short term, he was
smaller and of a shallower draught than us, such that getting close
enough to tow him off would have been impossible without first
getting the dinghy out, inflating it, and taking a very long line
across. Fortunately for us the lifeboat arrived before we had even
started preparations!
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| On the mooring at Collioure |
The next morning was
sunny and warm with light south easterly winds. After a slow start we
made the decision to carry on south and head for Collioure on of the
last towns in France before you hit the Spanish/French border. It is
famous for being a haven for artists in the early 20th
century. With two hours to go to sunset we ghosted through the
harbour entrance and picked up a mooring. If we had but known it we
could have gone alongside but we were convinced that the inner port
was too shallow to take Kurukulla. As it was it our ignorance saved
us starting the engine and we made a silent arrival on the mooring
under sail. Collioure is a spectacular town, especially when viewed
from seaward. The fortifications and remains of the old town are
picturesque to say the least. Just as the supper was being served and
the sun was setting we were entertained by the sight of a fishing
boat towing in a motor cruiser who had obviously suffered engine
failure or run out of fuel. Having put him alongside in the inner
harbour the fishing boat immediately returned to sea. When one thinks
of the number of times fishermen are criticised for not obeying the
Collision Regulations this was a real act of kindness, to tow him in,
interrupting the activity on which their livelihood depends. Our
second rescue witnessed in two days!
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| Hotel des Templiers |
The following morning
we made a trip ashore using the dinghy and visited some of the sights
including the Castel Royale (so named because it was in its turn the
home of the Spanish royal family and the Majorcan royal family before
finally falling to the French after a long siege) and the bar called
Les Templiers where many of the artists who made the resort famous
paid for their board and lodging with early paintings that still
adorn the walls. An art enthusiasts dream. Our last port of call By
1330 we were ready to leave and using a light south easterly breeze
we sailed off the mooring, slightly to the surprise of our
neighbours, heading out of the harbour and onwards on our southerly
route. The winds remained light and somewhat variable but by 1620 we
had crossed into Spanish waters and by 1830 we were just outside Cala
Tabellera but that was to be when the wind dropped to nothing. We
eventually had to admit defeat and motor the last 400yds into the
anchorage which proved to be an ideal choice. We anchored in 5m of
water and the only sounds were the wavelets lapping on the shore and
the birds singing in the surrounding trees. A fantastic place to
spend the night; in fact so good we decided to spend a second night
there! That was before the gods decided otherwise!
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| Cala Tabellera |
At 1700 the following
day I decided to take a quick look at the weather forecast, it had
previously shown a brief period of strongish winds from the north
west during the coming night with the majority of the winds coming
from west or south west. As we were exposed to the north this could
have caused a bit of rolling around but was not a serious cause for
concern. However, the latest forecast gave a somewhat different view.
Winds of up to 68 mph from the north west, i.e. force 9 to 10 for up
to 9 hours! This put a totally different complexion on the anchorage!
By 1800 the wind had gone round fully to the north and was building,
and by 1830 it had reached 20 kts; time to go! We set off for Cala di
Port Lignat, 5 miles south and on the lee side of Capo Creus. A wet,
lumpy and unpleasant hour later we entered Cala di Port Lignat and
picked up a mooring in the roads where we spent the night listening
to the protests of our mooring warps and keeping a watchful eye on
the anchor alarm!
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| The anchorage at Port Lligat |
Dawn the next day
brought more of the same, strong northerly winds but with some
sunshine. We decided to stay put, leave Kurukulla on the mooring, and
visit Cadaques, the village half a mile south. In part our decision
was made for us when the mooring authority arrived to collect their
dues, €45 for one night! The only advantage was that it came with a
free water taxi service until 1800 allowing us to get ashore dry;
i.e. without using the dinghy. Cadaques is the home town of Salvador
Dali and derives most of its income from tourism associated with him.
The museum is at the landing stage in Port Lignat and from there on
everything was labelled Dali this, that or the other! We toured the
town and stopped for an afternoon beer on the waterside before
visiting the Church of Santa Maria.
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| Sta Maria church, Cadaques |
To call the altar OTT would be
doing it an injustice, it was at least 40 ft high by 20 wide and
totally encrusted in gold. So valuable was it that during the Spanish
Civil War the locals built a wall in front of it to prevent it being
seen and the gold vandalised. Two hours later we were back onboard
Kurukulla for an early supper and a second, rather more tranquil
night, (due to our late arrival the boatman had not charged us for
our first night!).
Saturday dawned sunny
but cold with an almost icy easterly wind blowing. By mid day the
temperature had hardly improved but we decided to go anyway and head
the few miles south to L'Escala where, one mile to the north, there
are the remains of the Greco-Roman city of Empuries which we wanted
to visit. By 1230 we were ready to go, sailed off the mooring
(somewhat to the surprise of our neighbours), and reached gently out
of the harbour. The original plan, given that “Weather on Line”
was forecasting westerly winds for all of the day, was to anchor off
the beach directly opposite the remains but as we made passage south
this became increasingly unlikely to be feasible as the wind remained
firmly in the east; only later in the evening did the promised west
wind fill in. Thus we eventually anchored in Playa del Rach del Moti,
somewhat closer to the town of L'Escala, where shelter from
south-easterly and westerly winds was available. Here we anchored
under sail, in 4m, and settled for the night.
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| The ruins at Empuries |
As planned we set off
next morning for a walk around the remains; the flat sea and light
winds allowed us to use the dinghy for the visit rather than up
anchor and motor Kurukulla the half mile to the north, up the coast,
necessary to reach the entrance. The remains were impressive in that
they were a mixture of the original Greek town (albeit they came from
what is now Turkey) with its Roman successor partially obliterating
the earlier Greek settlement; indeed at one stage it is believed the
Greeks and Romans co-habited on the site. To my mind there was rather
too much pre cast concrete in evidence to give a good impression of
how the remains should look. Although the Spanish authorities have
not gone for wholesale reconstruction (as the Parthenon in Athens)
there is a very considerable quantity of artistic largesse in
evidence where missing or lost parts have been filled in. That
notwithstanding it was worth the visit and the beer at the beach bar,
before our return onboard, was equally enjoyable. At 1300 we set off
south for a brief sail to the Cala at Montgo some 5 miles south. This
we had chosen for the night as it is one of the few places where half
reasonable shelter could be found from the forecast south-east winds.
By 1430 we were entering the Cala and anchored in 5m at the eastern
end of the beach. The only other occupants of the anchorage were
another yacht and two motorboats. An hour later I had summoned the
courage to go for a swim (even in late May it is still very cold –
what has happened to global warming?) only to discover that our
anchor cable was lying across the far side of a sinker from a
redundant mooring. Rather than risk it being trapped under the sinker
we were forced to start the engine (for the first time in three days)
and re-anchor clear of the obstruction. These things happen! The
evening was quiet and calm so perhaps it would not have been a
problem but better safe than sorry!
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| Cala Montgo |
Cala Montgo was so
enjoyable we decided to stay a second night and hence we set off mid
morning of the third day. On weighing anchor we found another pile of
debris caught round our anchor cable; having re-anchored to avoid the
sinker we now found a heap of fishing debris wrapped around the
anchor chain; 5 minutes saw it freed but it is always a bit
nerve-wracking freeing the tangle not knowing how many hooks are
buried in it waiting to bury themselves in your hands. From here we
set course for Cala de Sa Tuna which the pilot described as three
Calas round one bay with a few moorings for local boats off Sa Tuna
village. On arrival we sailed in to be greeted by a bay saturated
with moorings! Our first effort to pick up a mooring was in the small
bay in the SE of the anchorage where we secured ourselves, dropped
the sails and contemplated whether this was actually the best
available spot. The nearby moorings were so close we risked swinging
into them thus getting ropes fouled round our rudder or propeller,
and that notwithstanding the swell was running into this arm of the
harbour causing us to roll around more than was comfortable. Cala de
Aiguafreda looked calmer but here the moorings were even more tightly
packed.
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| Kurukulla surrounded by moorngs in Cala Aiguafreda |
Eventually we found a point in Aiguafreda where we could pick
up two moorings in two adjacent rows such that we were held head to
the swell and clear of the other moorings around us. Where do all
these people come from who have boats less than 10m long such that
100 moorings are needed in this harbour. There is nothing available
for a boat Kurukulla's size (12m) let alone anything larger. By
nightfall two other boats had taken their lead form us and moored in
a similar way close to us. We decided to go ashore and walk over to
Sa Tuna for an evening drink and to look at the village.
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| A quiet drink ashore in Cala Porto Tuna |
The pilot
book promised a local shop where we could obtain a few provisions.
This was not to be. Several bars, a “gift” shop and nothing else.
After a beer on the waterfront we walked back to the landing in
Aiguafreda and rowed back to Kurukulla.
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| Cala Castell |
Friday morning saw us
underway again as we sailed off the anchor and onwards
south-westwards towards Barcelona where we were due to pick up a new
crew member in four days time. The sail was a brisk one, with up to
15 kts over the deck as we barrelled downwind. Cowardice I know but
we resisted the temptation to give the new spinnaker a strength test
and stayed with full main and genoa. By 1300 we were berthed in the
marina at Blanes, a vastly enlarged marina from that which is
described in the pilot, which is well protected and easy to enter.
The town itself is unassuming but pleasant enough and the lunch in
the Yacht Club of Blanes was 5*, five courses for €17! A trip to a
yacht chandler, plus a local supermarket, was followed by a G&T
at sundowners and a supper onboard; all of which culminated in a
relatively early night.
The next day we set off
at 1030 for a sail westwards towards one of the marinas at Barcelona.
The sail was initially a close reach but increasingly became more
downwind. By mid-day it was spinnaker-able and out came the new
spinnaker. For the next six hours we enjoyed a beam reach in up to 10
kts of wind and doing 6 knots, that was until the wind died on us.
For most of the trip we had been debating whether the sea had calmed
enough to spend the night at anchor in the very exposed anchorage
just SW of Barcelona Airport. If we were able to it would make
picking up our next crew member from the airport very much easier. We
decided to give it a try. Wrong!
After a night rolling
in the swell every-time the wind failed to hold us head to wind and
swell (yes I know, I should have put out a stern anchor to hold us
head to sea but it seemed a lot of trouble for not much gain;
especially if the wind changed in the night) we decided that a few
nights in the marina at Porto di Vilanova looked much more attractive
and so it was we sailed the extra 20 miles to Vilanova arriving there
just after midday. On arrival we were greeted by an unmistakeable
American voice instructing us where to berth, unusual in this part of
the world but we found out later that he came from Boston but of
Spanish descendency and had a Spanish wife who could not tolerate the
climate of Boston; too cold in winter!
It was here we were to
stay for the 72 hours, waiting for Yorgos to arrive on the 30th
of May. The town of Vilanova is ideal being only 30 minutes from
Barcelona by train and one of the more economic marinas on this
coast. That said the town has little to offer architecturally!
