This is what our travel guide had to say about Corsica: "Millions of people visit Corsica each year, drawn by the mild climate, some of the most diverse landscapes in all of Europe, white sand beaches and transparent water." We have good friends who cruised Corsica last year, slowly, anchoring in quiet coves, along beautiful beaches, in perfect, settled conditions. We met others who had had the same experience. We read cruising websites and sail blogs that all said the same thing: "Corsica is heaven on earth." We couldn't wait to go.





We arrived into Ile de Pinarello on July 12th. Dropping our anchor in 15 feet of crystal clear water, in a bay encircled by soft sand, it was just what we had expected. We made a plan to get around to the west, and supposedly the best, coast as soon as possible. But the weather had a different plan for us, the timing wasn't right, so we moved to Porto-Vecchio the next day to wait out some wind. Luckily we explored the town that afternoon, because for the next two days, we did not get off the boat. The wind picked up, strong gusts funneled into the harbor, boats anchored too close, boats dragged on their anchors, there were white caps in the bay making travel to shore by dinghy impossible. But in the midst of all the chaos, we were treated to beautiful fireworks in honor of our 32nd wedding anniversary, which was timed perfectly to coincide with Bastille Day, France's Independence Day.














As soon as the winds abated some, we resumed our plan to go through the Strait of Bonaficio to the island's west coast. Porto-Vecchio is a nice little town and Berkeley East held strong in the harbor's thick mud, but we were anxious to move on. Timing was important with this move, and our timing was off. As we pulled up the anchor, the anchor that had been dug into thick, stinky mud for three days, the wind increased to 20+ knots. It wasn't pretty. Hazmat suits would have been helpful. As we headed south, it was clear that the seas needed to die down a bit, so we turned around and went back to beautiful Ile de Pinarello to wait one more day, for a better time. Seven days later, we were still there. During our first 12 days in Corsica, we traveled a total of 10 miles, saw two harbors, one town and met 'Mistral.' The beautiful name Mistral conjures up images of a lovely creature leaving smiles in her wake. But Mistral is really a nasty, angry witch that brings nothing but pain and suffering to all in her path. The Greek geographer Strabo said that the Mistral was 'an impetuous and terrible wind which displaces rocks, hurls men from their chariots, breaks their limbs and strips them of their clothes and weapons.' By definition, it is a cold, dry, strong wind off the Rhone delta that typically blows in spring and autumn for anywhere from one to 10 days, extending as far as the Balearics and, of course, Corsica. This was July, but the Mistral was blowing and the worst was yet to come.





As we read the new forecast of 40+ knots (46+ miles per hour) with 50+ knot (60 miles per hour) gusts, we looked at our options: go to the Porto-Vecchio marina (we called but could not get in); move to the far south of Sardinia (a two-day slog through rough swells); run to the mainland (no protected anchorages or guarantees of marina space); stay put and ride it out. We reluctantly chose to stay put. We were joined in Ile de Pinarello by Michael and Daniel on Spendido, friends from the Caribbean 1500 and ARC Europe rallies. We all got together and talked about how to prepare for winds that we had experienced at sea during our Atlantic passage last year, but had never seen at anchor. We essentially prepared as if we were going on a passage. Running backstays and sail sheets were run, safety lines set, everything that could blow away was stowed, head lamps were charged, harnesses and tethers put out. We set the anchor with two hundred and fifty feet of chain and two snubbers. We kept the dingy in the water with the outboard on, in case we needed it, and tied it onto BE with two lines. We were ready, but the night was calm. We didn't know it then, but Mistrals typically hit in the day. The timing of the forecast was a bit off, so we were a little off guard when the wind began to build the next morning. For most of the day, we saw sustained winds in the mid 40s, gusts of 52 knots. Berkeley East was heeling so much, we had to hang on. Across the bay, we could see that Splendido's bottom paint was in good shape. Dinghy's were flying. Boats, large and small, were dragging through the anchorage. We saw one boat dragging between BE and Splendido, its anchor line was apparently wrapped around the keel, one man was under the boat trying to free the line while another stayed at the wheel trying, unsuccessfully, to control the boat. It was crazy. And then, at the end of the day, it just stopped. Like someone flipped a switch. We felt like we had awoken from a terrible nightmare. We checked the decks for damage and found that one of the dinghy lines had broken, and our French courtesy flag had been nearly beaten to death, its red stripe was almost gone. BE was covered in more salt and grime than after any long passage we have ever taken. Several days of Mistral followed, but that would be the worst of it.





As soon as we could, 12 long days after our arrival, we sailed BE up the north coast of Corsica. We spent 10 more days circumnavigating the island. Corsica is a beautiful island, with changing scenery, crystal clear water, exceptional beaches.
















We had some wonderful times there, but the weather was never settled enough to really enjoy this magical place. By this time, it was also the end of July, when all of Europe goes on holiday, and those quiet coves and serene beaches were hustling with tubers and jet skis. As we decided to give up, head south, and come back another time, we made one more stop, in Bonafacio. We had heard fantastic things about this natural harbor carved out of limestone, the chic waterfront and charming old town on the hill.




We had also heard about the chaotic, unnerving environment of ferries and day boats, an unorganized marina, no one to help with docking, etc. We prepared for the worst, but for once, our timing was perfect. There were few boats in the harbor, we were led to an end slip, with a view of the fort, by a marina tender, there was a sailor was on the dock to catch our lines. It was Bonafacio's annual Folies festival and the city was alive with jazz music. We walked for hours taking in the incredible views.
























The music was everywhere, even on boats

Our time in Bonaficio, and Corsica, and France, ended with a spectacular fireworks show from the fort, directly above BE's dock.



The next morning as we prepared to leave, we were boxed in by boats, but just before we dropped the lines, boats moved, the path cleared and BE moved easily away from the dock, out of the harbor and onto Sardenia. Timing is everything.



Highlights




Bastia, is the principal port of the island and largest commercial town. We were uncertain of what type of reception our American flag would get here, as the US bombed the town while the locals where celebrating the departure of the German troops during World War II. Obviously the bombers didn't know the German's had evacuated. Most of the town was destroyed and a number of people killed. The town has been rebuilt and is clean and no one seemed to care that we were Americans.




Calvi While Calvi is a slightly chic Cote d' Azur-style town, the citadel has been left untouched and remains an important base for the French Foreign Legion.







Anchoring with Splendido in Erbalunga was clearly a highlight of the East Coast. It is a cute little village, with a miniature harbor, that is something of a cultural enclave with concerts and art events.













Whenever we got a break from the wind in Pinarello we would go ashore, to the green trailer on the beach, for some french fries and rose'.