Coast hopping West Corsica
/41° 29'.6 N 08° 56'.0 E, Cala di Roccapina, Corsica, 41° 38'.0 N 08° 49'.0 E, Campomoro, Corsica, 41° 42'.1 N 08° 47'.7 E Porto Pollo, Corsica
Leaving beautiful Bonefacio isn’t difficult, the white cliffs dazzle just as much on departure. A Superyacht was poking its nose right into one of the caves, their Captain must have had his weetbix this morning.
We have a couple more days coast hopping in Corsica before we depart for mainland France where we have a date with Captains folks!
Our first stop for lunch was Roccapina Bay. Our ol’mate from Porto Vecchio had given us a heads-up this bay was a beaut and he was right. Without time to stay the night we made the most of it with a swim, picnic and some maintenance; Our speedo had stopped working. The gnarly little barnacles overcome it. There are two options, dive down and scrape the barnies off, or unplug it from inside the boat, the sea gushes in and you have to stem the ocean with a little bung. We haven’t worked up the courage for the latter yet. So Captain, armed with a snorkel and a scraper, went for a swim under the boat.
That evening we tried to anchor in Campomoro Bay. But we were too late and there was no space in the depths that we needed. We drop about five meters of chain for every meter of depth. We hadn’t adapted our anchor equipment before leaving Jersey, armed with only 25 meters of chain and 25 meters of rope we simply couldn’t find a spot. We tried, a few times, to fit ourselves in, dropping anchor at least four times in various spots. An ol’ sea dog Captain next to us told us he thought we were sound for the night. But we didn’t feel right and always go with our gut.
In the end, we crossed the bay to Porto Pollo and arrived with just enough light to spot a mooring bouy and grab it. I imagine you’re supposed to pay for them but there was no-one around and we set off at the crack of dawn having had a fairly rubbish sleep. Never look a freebie horse in the mouth though. Sunrise gratitude.
Onto Ajaccio, this old market town didn’t do a lot to set it apart from so many of the other Corsican villages we have loved, it did give us a cracking french market though to restock the fruit basket. Scrum-diddly-umptious french peaches for breakfast for me*, fresh Croissants for Captain.
Charlie x
*Captain is not so peachy about peaches. Furry-ness too fuzzy!
