Getting out of Port Napoleon means sticking carefully to a narrow channel, kept well dredged and buoyed, while the cockle-fishers wade in the mud about 10 feet away. We motored gently along and out into the industrialised Golfe de Fos, and 11m of water.
Waah! The engine temperature suddenly goes critical. We hoiked out the genoa, turned off the engine, rounded up and dropped the anchor. Nothing like practicing emergency procedures about half a mile from your berth. Happily the gooey mud of the Rhone delta grabbed the anchor and held it firm. We had a good transit on this yellow freighter, and sat solid for the next three hours.
Poor Pip spent that time sweating and swearing over the engine. Change the impeller. Check the seacock. Tackle water filter. Break water filter! By-pass water filter.
At least, then the engine ran without over heating and we very gingerly, anchor at the ready, motored back towards the visitor pontoon. (We couldn't sail it, as the channel is barely a boat length wide and was directly to windward.) More mossies and the irritation of a return, but it was the only safe thing to do.