Port Pin Rolland - Portovenere

...or the traverse of the Cote d'Azur and the French and Italian Riviera during the month of August...

We were warned in the Caribbean that we would miss the consistent 85 degree weather and the easterly trades winds that blow nearly every day. The Med's extremes of wind we were prepared for but the blistering 95 degree days with the high humidity and almost total lack of wind for air conditioning much less for sailing caught us off guard. I wouldn't just call us sissies but we have nothing to prove to others so we gladly crank up the generator and turn on the A/C when it gets too stifling to sleep.

Leaving the boatyard happy to be underway with much lighter wallets to carry around we traversed the bay of Toulon to fuel up (+1,000 Euros but who's counting). Arriving at the unfamiliar fuel dock in this bustling port the starboard engine overheated and we had to shut it down. After waiting for our turn to fuel up I couldn't coax Escapade into the fuel dock with just the one engine. We stalled for another 15-20 minutes until the temp gage dropped out of the danger zone and fired up the starboard engine for the two minutes it took to maneuver us to the dock.

A later phone call to the yard with me insinuating something they had done had caused the problem brought a quick reply from Yannick: "from the symptoms it is probably the impeller." Of course it's the impeller, there's no water coming from the exhaust. I'm not proud to admit when a mechanical failure happens shortly after professionals have been working on the boat I am too quick to blame them. As Yannick surmised it was simply a coincidence. The impeller was shredded. As another mechanic once told me: "Engines just run and run...until they don't."

Once under way at 1600 we decided to make use of the long daylight and made for the French coast at Cavalaire. There were thirty plus boats in the anchorage but plenty of room for us. We spent a pleasant first night off the dock and left early the next morning in the direction of St. Tropez. As exquisite as the village of St. Tropez and the surrounding countryside is, and it is very special, this is no place to be in the high season unless you possess a supernatural urge to see and to be seen. Nonetheless we told ourselves it wouldn't be too bad just to pass closely by the coast without stopping.

While the western portion of the Cote d'Azur had been full of vacationers making the most of their holidays sailing, water skiing, wake boarding, kayaking, kite boarding, windsurfing, fishing and blasting around on powerboats big and small none of it even approached the near mayhem of arriving in the Baie de Pampelone and the Gulf of St Tropez! Motoring around Cap Camarat we entered the other-world of the Super Yachts and the scenesters of St. Trop... A multitude of megayachts anchored just off the beaches of the Plage de Tahiti lined with bars and restaurants and the ubiquitous multi colored lounge chairs chock a block from one end of the three mile beach to the other. But something wasn't right about this scene...the entire beach was sparsely populated. "Where are all the people to fill a thousand lounge chairs?" After all it was nearly noon.

Rounding Cap St. Tropez keeping to seaward of the 5 nm/h buoys we were soon attacked by swarms of boats heading out of the harbors and anchorage of St. Tropez headed for the Baie de Pampelonne. The only prudent way to travel "upstream" against this swarm was to cut inside the 5 nm/h buoys and reduce our speed. Obvious to everyone but us peasants no one goes to the beach here until at least noon, the morning reserved for sleeping off the excesses of the night before. As I'm really starting to sound like an old fogey (even that term is old!) I have to admit that I spent some wonderful time in St. Tropez in the '70's...probably sleeping late myself.

Sometimes it's entertaining to create storylines for people you come into proximity with but do not know...here it was easy: The ultra fast breed of 90 foot motor yacht usually flying the red ensign and often with London as the home port are likely as not to be named "Goldfinger" or another James Bond character. My storyline now that I abhor much of the financial community post 2008 is that the owners of these boats fit the stereotype of the young, flashy, Masters of the Universe figure finagling vast sums of money while contributing nothing to society, as middlemen in the City of London jetting down to the South of France for a long weekend to indulge their fantasy of being a James Bond character or even Bond himself. I like this picture and I'm going to believe it...

Once beyond the August catastrophe of St. Trop (abbreviation for the hip) we had a long afternoon motoring up to Villefranche and Cap Ferrat where we planned to anchor and take a long stroll around Cap Ferrat to stretch our legs in the morning. Interesting as Cap Ferrat has probably the most expensive residential real estate in the world save for a few major cities such as London and New York, that there is a wonderful waterfront pedestrian path circling the peninsula cutting between the fabulous villas and the sea. Actually we have been surprised to see long trails along the seashore first in Portugal and then in France. Many of them require expensive bridging and handrails. There appears to be a real effort to allow public access to the water.

We had a bit of a late start that morning and decided to make a fun day of it rather than just push on to Rapallo and our date with our new mainsail. We stopped to anchor off of Monaco hoping to dinghy in and visit their renowned Oceanographic Museum but we just weren't comfortable leaving Escapade anchored in 40 meters of water and going ashore. Motoring around the next cape into the town of Menton we found a delightful little anchorage with really calm water where we could anchor in 10 meters. We enjoyed the hot middle part of the day with our new SUP and generally basking in the glow of being in the middle of the Riviera in August having a good time and not being hassled by the crowds. The lure of a fabulous Italian dinner in San Remo, a restaurant that Giovanni, the salesman from North Sails, and I had met in the week before caused us to up anchor while we still had plenty of light for the two hour trip.

The Osteria del Marinaio (Via Gaudio, 30 - San Remo +39 0184 53 33 54) was once again fabulous with an outstanding octopus and potato salad followed by mixed seafood with pasta for me and homemade pasta with pesto for Debbie. Liguria as this area is called is the home of pesto and Debbie has been testing it all...
It was too hot to sleep when we returned to the boat and we were having (what later turned out to be an easily solvable) generator issue so we elected to motor overnight to Portofino some 75 nm distant. The first third of the trip took us along the nightline of this beautiful coast and we did have to keep a sharp lookout for traffic. Arriving at Portofino at dawn was perfect: The light was soft and beautiful and the stifling heat of the day had yet to set in. This time we anchored in 30 meters falling fast asleep and woke up some three hours later with about 30 Italian small craft (and a couple of large motoscarfe) anchored all around. Many Italians with summer homes in the area have these 8-10 meter fishing boat style day boats that they motor to different places along the coast to anchor out and work on their skin cancer. Many of the boats had no sunshade whatsoever and it was baking hot! Back in the day I did a little cancer farming myself taking after my Italian mother who loved to bake in the sun darkening up until she could brag about her tan, so this is our lineage. Absolutely unbelievable that anyone could stay in the sun in this heat for hours on end. Fortunately the water is perfect, just cool enough to be refreshing. Later on we took a great leap of faith and went ashore (in August, remember) without dinner reservations in the absolute tourist center of the Italian Riviera hoping to be rewarded with an adequate Italian dinner. Not only did we luck out with a table right on the water, but dinner was once again superb...not quite the meal at the tiny Osteria del Marinaio, but excellent nonetheless. The pesto on the wafer thin delicate squares of pasta was bennissimo.

We had a gorgeous ride on our bicycles the next morning along the narrow winding coast road into Santa Margherita Ligure and on toward Rapallo. Returning to Portofino and stopping to buy postcards we learned that rain was expected the following day so we decided to push on down the coast to the protection of the Rada di La Spezia at Portovenere. The coastline was amazing, virtually a cliff most of the way to the Cinque Terra. Yet, there were houses and apartment buildings clinging to the cliffs some with tramways and even a chairlift down to the sea from where a ladder or concrete steps would allow access to the water. If the rain wasn't forecast and with it a change in the weather possibly bringing onshore wind we probably would have anchored at Vernazza, the middle town of the Cinque Terra, but there is absolutely no protection other than from the east so we played it safe and continued on to Portovenere where we have been rewarded with a fine anchorage in a beautiful setting first populated over 1,000 years ago!

The long and the short of our traverse of this coastline in August is that sure, we wish we had been here 30 years ago, or even in the shoulder season, but on a boat, and if your expectations of going ashore aren't too high, you can have a good time even in the height of summer. The best thing is my concerns over crowded and non existent anchorages were pleasantly answered. We did have benign weather and we would have had a different experience in strong winds but it would be doable.

Life is great at the moment on the Escapade!