The calm of the Tuscan Island of Giannutri was broken mid-morning when a ferry made straight for us blasting his horn.  The perfect position we occupied all night in the lagoon was not so perfect after all, being directly en route to a small, previously unseen dock, where the local ferry wanted to drop a hoard of tourists for the day!  We were shouted at by captain and crew, as they indicated in a way only Italians can, that we were wan***rs!  Umm... must update the pilot book, as no mention of this “problem” at all.  Anyway we pulled up the anchor before the ferry left in fear of another onslaught and with tail between legs, headed for Giglio, a slightly bigger island at the heart of the holiday cruising ground of the Tuscan Islands.  We gently motored all the way round the island past seemingly endless pretty bays, all full to bursting with yachts, motor boats and RIBS full of happy holiday makers.  Finally, we dropped anchor outside Giglio town harbour in what could only be described as a bustling Richard Scary scene. The rest of the afternoon was spent spectating as others tried to squeeze into smaller and smaller spots, to the annoyance of arm-waving skippers trying to protect their boats from inexperienced charterers.  Amazingly, however, by dusk there were tens of boats happily bobbing and co-existing outside the tiny harbour and a couple of hundred squashed inside the marina. 

We spent a couple of nights on Giglio over a long holiday weekend.  The miniature harbour town was busy but lovely and afforded an opportunity to promenade with everyone else, stop for gelato, espresso and a few cooling Peronis and pick up the delicacies of the region by way of prosciutto and melone and of course Pecorino cheese from the local sheep (although how local is a bit of a question!)  We hopped on the bus, which took us to the top of the island, remarkably high considering its small size. We entered a different world  – a medieval citadel, home to local Gigliati for generations and of course now numerous second-homers, with apartments squirreled away amongst the ramparts, surrounding a pretty little church, complete with choir practice.  A glass of local wine convinced me to stick to the rather larger producers but the setting was magical and it was a hour or so before we hopped on the bus back to the harbour.

Next day we were approached by the Coast Guard’s launch.  He gesticulated but we were not in tune and eventually he shrugged and left.  As boats began to up anchor and leave the busy anchorage I guessed something was up!  But several remained, so we sat it out much of the day until we learned that there was to be a firework display that evening and the bay was to be cleared by 2200 hours.  This was annoying at first, but it dawned on us that we could drift out a bit and get a fabulous view of the festivities, which we did at around midnight in a little flotilla of like-minded souls, all ooing and ahhing at the flash bangs.  Wide awake, we decided to head out to sea, vaguely in the direction of Corsica, which we reached after a quiet moonlit night early the next morning.  A reviving cup of tea, a juicy plate of prosciutto e melone and the lack of sleep gave way to a gentle sail at no more than 3kts for 6 hours close in to the ever changing coastline of Corsica, eventually to drop anchor in the Golfe de Pinarello – Boooooooootiful ...

Follow our progress here:

http://blog.mailasail.com/oboe, where you can see our daily progress on Google Earth.  Email us at: oboe {CHANGE TO AT} mailasail {DOT} com any time you like.  Phone us on +881 631 669 194 and we’ll pick up via Iridium satellite.

Fair winds to you all.

Nigel

Gill