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Roaring Girl
The adventures of the yacht Roaring Girl wandering the seas.

We got into Cargese as it was getting dark, and anchored close to Aquila. Too close as it turned out, when the boats swung to a southerly breeze. We hauled up the hook and reanchored - enjoying a spectacular thunderstorm which got going whilst we were fossicking about finding the right spot. There's quite a lot rocks thereabouts and even our trusty rocna took a while to be well dug-in.
We then had a rocky, swelly night and were both stiff and bad-tempered in the morning. We decided not to go ashore but head for Ajaccio ahead of a nasty forecast.
In a way that's a shame. Cargese, as you can see from the photo, has two huge churches, one Roman Catholic and the other Greek Orthodox. There is a long history of an orthodox presence and Greek community here. At times there has been tension between them and the Corsicans, but this is all now resolved (at least according to guide books), and Cargese is home to a devout congregation and an important annual festival for St Spiridion.

Life on Roaring Girl
Capu Rossu

From Girolata, we headed South again. First of all we had to round Capu Rossu, the western-most point of Corsica, and to do that we started off by beating back to Pte de Scandola in order to lay one straight tack sou-sou-west. That all went very nicely till the wind died completely. We even put the cruising chute up, for the first time this year, but were still only making 1kt. At that point, we gave up and turned the engine on.
The picture is the cape wearing a fetching cloud ring.

Life on Roaring Girl
While we're on the subject

Actually the subject is waste. (This is unusual for cruisers, any three of whom can spend hours discussing the heads, but that's for another time.)
Girolata is a tiny village, but in the high season, we were told, some 2000 people a day walk along or visit its beach. That's an enormous impact from hikers and sailors, which the village is working hard to manage. Part of their approach is to strongly encourage recycling and management of waste, including supplying all visiting boats with a compostable bag for their food waste! Presumably they also make money from the rubbish, and all power to them.
At the eastern end of the beach is a small rubbish area (pictured here) which has containers for oil (food only), compost (all other food remains), plastic, tins, paper and then whatever is left over. The site is superbly clean, and barely whiffy, even on a hot day. We've certainly smelt plenty worse. There is a big can crusher, and the bales of tins are already being squared away for removal and sale.
We were impressed by this waste site, one of the best we've seen. And with so much travelling, and Sarah's professional responsibilities for waste management, we've seen a few! Other rural areas with a big visitor footfall could learn from the approach here, for example in some of the NZ sites we camped in two years ago. It does need some labour to keep it so well, but a good arrangement for treatment and sale would help with the financial impact, if not actually make money.
If they can manage this in a village unreachable save by boat or foot and such a huge transient population, then there's not much excuse for the rest of us.

Places and people
How to s**t in the woods

Yes, this is a book - we even have it on board. Judging from the disgusting proliferation of used toilet paper beside the track out of Girolata (and in the Desert, and even in Elba) a few people could do with the lesson.
It's not even high season yet. If it's like this now, by mid-August these tracks will be white with used bog-paper. So, listen up, hikers!
Take with you a bit of loo paper and couple of bags. The sort you use to clear up after your dog, or to put your loo paper in on board. The ones your veggies came in will do! If you have one, a small fibreglass trowel or even a spoon (not for reuse.) Put these small things into their own 'facilities bag,' which might be a dry bag.
When nature calls, step off the path. Well off the path! It's not that hard. Make a small hole. If you can't, find a couple of good stones or branches (very easy in the maquis.) Do your business. Wipe your bottom and put the used loo paper in the small bag. Tie the bag up tightly. Pop it into your facilities bag.
Cover the mess you've made - either by shovelling earth over it, or using the stones. All of this applies even if all you are doing is having a pee, but still using the toilet paper. Take it with you!
Return to the path and continue your walk, fortified by the knowledge that you have not littered the environment nor left traces of your bodily needs for other people to enjoy.
When you find a litter bin, put the small bags of paper into the bin.
There - that wasn't difficult. Just do it.

The postman's lot

The shortest route out of Girolata on foot is to the south, where an old track joins the road at the pass known as Brocca A Croix. The lower road is known as the Sentier de Guy le Facteur, the path of Guy, the postman. He was an ex-legionary who for many years delivered the post to the village, travelling this route on foot or by mule in all weathers. He became quite a celebrity in France, with a couple of documentaries made about him.
The path is a lovely trail, winding through mature maquis of holm oak and other trees which meet around you, occasionally opening up to show the sparkling water below. Or at least it was sparkling when we started. After about two hours it clouded over, started raining, and went on raining for the rest of the day. This at least kept us cool, not least as we had foolishly believed a 'sans precipitation' forecast, and had no waterproofs with us.
The route goes via the Anse de Tuara, which would be a possible anchorage in calm weather. The beach is pebbly sand, cut by a stream bed of sharp rocks awaiting the last of the snow melt. It meanders back into the hills amongst sheets of euphorbia and marsh grass (in the picture above). There is also an unpleasant amount of litter brought in by the prevailing winds, making this not the most inviting spot for a swim. We passed on.
There were pigs grazing as we went across the beach, who eyed us balefully and made sure Mum was always between us and the youngsters. Not that they were true wild boar of course; we'd not have crossed their path. We took the piglets' pictures anyway. It is common on Corsica to turn the pigs out to graze on the maquis. Because there are tax breaks for ownership but not for good husbandry this has the perverse effect of encouraging fire setting, to release grazing, which is a major contributor to the forest fires which plague Corsica every year.
This time we didn't encounter cattle grazing free, but the little spring, with its accompanying water trough, in the woods that lead up to the pass was an obvious favourite spot, judging by the droppings. We did see some of the traditional long horned beasts in the field near the beach.
The pass itself was a disappointment, being shrouded in clouds. It has one little café run by a very grumpy man who refuses to serve café au lait! We had some café and then ate our packed lunch as we walked back down to the Anse de Tuara.
On the way back we took the alternative route from the beach going over the top of the hill. This led us past some amazing red rocks and black cliffs, which left us relieved about the unlikelihood of earthquakes as we walked underneath. It also led us by the tiny cemetery of Ghjirolatu (the Corsican name). There were only three or four names on the gravestones, testimony to the tiny community It's well kept, with a lovely view. We took lots of pictures on this hike, and a few are in the relevant photo album.
We enjoyed the walk but found it to take 3.75 hours out and 3.15 hours back - a lot of walking. Our book suggested over three hours, but the man in the Capitainerie had assured me that it wasn't too far, just about an hour and a half. Yeah, right! Of course it stopped raining when we returned, and we had a lovely swim off the back of the boat.

Places and people
Gulf of Girolata/Ghjirolatu

At the southern edge of Scandola lies the Golfe de Girolata. This wide mouthed bay hides at its eastern end a splendid little harbour. The eponymous fishing village is only reachable by boat or foot and remains very isolated.
Entering the Gulf you just have to believe there is a harbour at the end. From the Pte de Scandola it just looks like a series of small coves and reefs which, even in calm weather, show white with surf. Aim just south of the tower standing proud on its rock. You will begin to see boats popping in and out. When you call, on channel 9, a reassuring voice tells you to come towards the harbour, where you will be met. (The voice speaks excellent English: almost all the staff here do!) You may have to wait a while, especially if you are just behind a tour boat, but they take new arrivals in strict rotation and they will get to you.
Girolata is no longer an anchorage but an extremely well organised operation where yachts are placed on buoys. The outer line are swinging to one buoy, but further in, there are fore and aft moorings. The efficient young men in their RiBs tell you where to put your ropes (fore and aft, port or starboard) and then lead you to your assigned spot, taking the route that suits the conditions and other boats in place, as well as your draft. He takes your bow rope, threads it through and tosses it back before heading to nudge your stern into place to repeat the operation. It really is very easy. But do not try this at night: this is a very dark harbour and there are no lights. There are some pilotage type pictures inthe album. The one above is taken from the top of the hill 150m east of the harbour: the tower is hiding behind the bush on the left. Unfortunately it was pouring with rain that day!
The moorings are not free. At just under 12m we are paying 26EU a night, which will increase to 32EU at the end of June. If you spend 6 nights, the 7th is free.
Wintering here would be extremely cheap, but demanding. In the winter there are 12 to 15 permanent inhabitants in the village. Almost all food comes in by boat, and it would be dark under the surrounding cliffs. The wifi is flakey and phone signals (for data) are poor. But it could be rewarding for those with projects which did not rely on extensive infrastructure.
Right now, though, it is a lovely spot to relax. Not least, there is no swell, a blessed relief after a few bad nights sleep. When the sun comes out, the water (5m where we are moored) is pellucid down to the sand.
Incidentally, this harbour was founded by Andrea Doria - the man who salvaged Genoa's fortunes by creating a mercenary fleet. He needed somewhere on this coast as a haven for his shallow-draft fighting galleys, and Girolata served the purpose very well. Before it was just a small fishing village, and, out of season, that's what it has become again.

Life afloat (containing pilotage notes)
Pointe Palazzo and Ile Gargalu

The headland just west of Elbu is the famous Pointe Palazzo, so called because the huge formations are said to resemble palaces. They are twisted and worn into fantastic shapes, which change their appearance as the light and shadows shift, and you also move to different perspectives. Around them wheel gulls and eagles, and, we're told, seals and dolphins play. (We didn't see dolphins, but Aquila did.)
Just beyond Palazzo is the tiny island of Gargalu. (The place marker which will take you to our location is 0.5m west of the island.) This is blessed with both a lighthouse and a tower. Soldiers and light keepers alike must have found this a remote and lonely outpost, vulnerable to forces far outside their control.
Gargalu has its tiny ilot cousin, just to the South. There is a narrow channel between these islands and the coast, and we saw a tripper boat come through it, but we wouldn't dream of taking a keel boat down there, Instead we went round the outside and south down the exposed western flank of Scandola, taking many pictures for the album referring to this post. The rocks are twisted and sharpened by water and wind, and bask in reds, bronze, greys and greens, changing continuously with the clouds and the sun.

Places and people
Coast of Scandola

South of Galeria is the start of the UNESCO listed Scandola Nature Reserve. This magnificent area is largely closed to visitors, really only visitable by boat. And even that is limited, both by the very rocky coastline and increasing prohibitions on mooring, diving or fishing. The area is home to a very wide range of unique and endangered flora and fauna, and it has never been thickly inhabited, so all the prohibitions make sense.
Rather than take a direct line across the bay, we scouted out some of the extraordinary coves and rocks. Above is Baie d'Elbu in which anchoring is now only allowed in daylight hours. The pilot shows it as a possible spot, but as you can see, the entrance is formidable.

Places and people

Our friends on Aquila had caught us up in Calvi, after an enjoyable week with family on the Cinqueterre coast. We reinstated our tradition of sightseeing combined with gastronomy and hikes with a visit to Corte.
This town is pretty much in the centre of the island. It was, and remains, a centre of Corsican nationalism. There is plenty of graffiti on the subject on its walls, particularly around the University (the only one on Corsica). We went by train from Calvi, but there are lots of works on the line and quite a lot of the trip was by bus instead. Like all travel in France, it adds up in price, as return tickets were over 20EU each. But we saw a good chunk of the island, which is spectacularly beautiful.
Corte is centred around its citadel, which sits imposingly on a jutting granite peak. It is reminiscent of Rocamodor in France but without the pretty pointy towers. We ate an excellent lunch (fish soup, wild boar and so on) but passed on the rather expensive museum which is the only way to visit the citadel itself. Instead we walked the path of the ancient mule track into the valley of the Tavignano river, the route Napoleon's mother took when fleeing French forces while pregnant with the future Emperor. It's a pretty walk, though steep in the afternoon heat (hats off to Mme Bounoparte) , and apparently you can go on for another couple of hours to find bathing pools in the rocks. It sounded lovely - Braemar with hot water and scented maquis - but was further than we had time (or energy) to walk.

Places and people
Calvi town

Calvi itself is a sweet town but extremely touristy and expensive. Not much else seems to happen here. Of course it has an exciting history of military scraps - this is where Nelson lost his eye - and it is the HQ of a crack para regiment in the Foreign Legion. But today it is extremely peaceful.
It does have good provisioning at the supermarkets along with numerous shops selling Corsican specialities (also in the SuperU and cheaper there) and an expensive covered market selling allegedly local produce.
A highlight of our stay was to hear a band called Alba play in the cathedral in the citadel. They are part of a tradition of polyphonic singing in Corsica, which we had known nothing about. Groups, usually but not always all male, will sing in a variety of forms, unaccompanied or with violins, zithers, guitars. Alba also have a clarinet, a sax and very clever table-top organ, as well as a (female) percussionist.
Haunting, soaring music, sung in the dusky cathedral light, after which we walked out into the night air, astonished at the strength and muscle of the singing and the enduring Corsican pride.
The other find in Calvi was the Bibliotheque pout Tous, (in the picture) which is in a little sidestreet behind the eglise in the lower town. This little library also has a shelf-full of English books for sale at 2EU a time - a boon to any cruisers. The main staff member is a lovely woman who, with her husband, completed a seven year circumnavigation on their 16m yacht. We had a jolly time comparing notes on book swaps from Vanuatu, the Caribbean, the UK and the US.

Places and people
Calvi anchorage

The bay off Calvi, within the hook of the rock on which the famous citadel sits, is enormous, fringed by a stunning white beach. Until 1 June you can anchor pretty much anywhere, and be close to the town. After that, till mid-September, a very large mooring field is laid out, and you cannot anchor within it. The buoys cost half the rate it would be for your vessel within the marina.
Alternatively you can anchor on the eastern end of the bay. This is a long way to town (about two miles), but free. We found a wicked swell got in there one night, a wave coming in deflected off Ravatella to the north west. But otherwise it was very pleasant.
Around Calvi, there is snow still on the mountain tops as you can see from the picture. We gather that winter here (as in the UK) was uncharacteristically wet and cold, and the snow has lingered at least a month longer than usual. The water is certainly still very cold, fed by the run-off from the white peaks.
For business reasons, Sarah had to go back to the UK for a few days. We moored Roaring Girl in the marina, and Pip stayed aboard while Sarah flew north. It wasn't a holiday for Pip either as she fixed our errant water tank, resealed the surfaces in the galley and a range of other jobs.

Life afloat (containing pilotage notes)
Passage to Calvi and the Danger

We were up very early in the morning given a forecast of stronger winds later in the day. After rounding the big red rock which gives Ile Rousse its name, we headed west. It's only about six miles from the rock to Punta de Spagna, where you turn into the Gulf of Calvi, but in between lies the Danger de Algajola. (There's a picture of it in the album about Ile Rousse). This terrifyingly named reef is only 0.8m below the surface and about a mile off shore. It kicks up a wicked froth so can be hard to see. It is unpleasant enough that the charts call it a Danger, rather than the much more common 'rock' or even 'roches'. We were very keen to get past it before the wind increased.
In the event, as we passed the lonely cardinal mark that indicates the offshore edge of the Danger, the sea was calm. But half an hour later, as we reached Spagna, the promised south westerly had arrived and indeed there were white caps everywhere and Roaring Girl pitching hard. It was a relief to round the finger of rocks pointing at the next headland and turn south into the protected waters off Calvi. Once deep in the bay, protected by the encircling mountains, the water was calm. We dropped anchor at 0800 with the whole day left to explore.

Life afloat (containing pilotage notes)

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