Porto Cervo

We finally got it together to leave Bonifacio on Friday 20^th June.  Despite its fearsome reputation there was a flat calm in the Bouches de Bonifacio and we had to motor across to the Madellenas, a small group of islands off the North East coast of Sardinia, under a blazing afternoon Sun.  Russell our Australian cruising companion on and off since Calvi left at the same time, but heading for the opposite side of Sardinia, aiming at a quick anti-clockwise circumnavigation of the whole island.  We felt sad to see his small white mainsail disappearing in the distance and to think that for the next few weeks there would be no chance of his little boat suddenly appearing round a headland and sailing into our anchorage.  However, the next few weeks proved to be far more sociable than we expected and exposed us to many new influences ...

After a few days around the Madellenas we finally arranged a rendezvous with our friends from last year, John and Chris, in Porto Cervo, “capital” of the Costa Smerelda.  This ten kilometre strip of the NE Sardinian coast is one of the most exclusive resorts in the Med and is owned by a Development Consortium headed by the Aga Khan.  The developments are low rise and “tasteful” and the style might best be described as “sanitised generic Mediterranean”.  The whole thing has little to do with Sardinia and frankly could have been built anywhere with the right climate and communications.  Porto Cervo itself is built around a small and safe natural harbour, part of which is occupied by a fabulously expensive marina.  However, much of the rest of the bay is a free anchoring zone, so one can get to see the whole Porto Cervo experience for nothing.  I must say this is very sporting of the Development Consortium and the romantic in me likes to think it is because the Aga Khan first discovered the area in the late fifties when his yacht was forced to take shelter there and that a safe and free anchorage has been preserved to allow others to do the same.

We spent five days with John and Chris in the Porto Cervo anchorage, going for walks, swimming in the clear waters of the harbour and dining on each other’s boats.  I feel a special affinity for what I think of as the “class of 2002” – those folks we met last year who headed off down the French canals in search of something real or imagined or both.  As well as John and Chris, who now plan to head for Spain, the class comprises Bernie and Sarah, now somewhere on the Canal du Midi, Russell, racing round Sardinia before heading back to the UK to sell his little boat and Thomas, Nicole and my Godson Joshi, now back sailing in Holland following a passage from Spain to Northern Europe by low loader.

During our time at Porto Cervo John and I decided to look in on the Smerelda Yacht Club, possibly the most expensive/exclusive in the world.  We walked, caps in hand, in faded shorts and T-shirts, through the air-conditioned marble halls, past the ship models and trophies to a large and imposing reception desk, where John, to his eternal credit produced the battered membership card of his South Coast yacht club and asked if the Smerlda Yacht Club had reciprocal arrangements with other clubs.  “Only the New York Yacht Club sir”, a young man in a smart suit, silk tie and floppy hair-do, politely explained”.  “Er, well, we’ll be on our way then”, I said, making a B-line for the exit.