Sailing the french riviera in winter

Cold but glorious

Le Lavandou, usually buzzing with summer vibes, was a great place to be after the dirt of St. Mandrier. After a few weeks though we noticed the town was winding down. It felt like hitting a brick wall! Half the town closed down, and the locals weren't exactly rolling out the red carpet for us out-of-towners. Fair play to them though, they work hard in the summer and deserve a break, but it wasn't exactly a friendly scene.

Don't even get me started on the airport situation. Reiss still had work which meant flights to catch, but the nearest airport was a solid three-hour trek away. Talk about inconvenient! So, we decided we needed to get our boat closer to one.

We started the search for a marina closer to the airport. We hit up about ten places, but winter wasn't doing us any favors. Half of them didn't even bother replying, and the other half were fully booked for for the winter. Our boat size then really comes into play. Most marina's have only a few berths for a boat the size of Bolongo.

But luck was on our side when one marina came through with a spot. Port Gallice in Antibes was the ticket. It wasn't as close to the airport as we'd hoped, but hey, it beat a three-hour drive any day.

So, with a spot secured, we just needed to wait for the right weather to set sail to Antibes.


Reiss and I exchanged a knowing glance, feeling a surge of emotion


As the sun began its descent, a gentle breeze propelled us forward, allowing us to glide effortlessly over the waves. Suddenly, we heard faint splashes nearby. Turning our heads, we were greeted by the enchanting sight of dolphins gracefully leaping around our boat. Excitement bubbled within us, and we all rushed to the deck for a closer look.

Sharing this magical moment of our children's first dolphin sighting filled our hearts with joy. Holding hands, we watched in awe as the dolphins playfully surfaced and dived back into the azure depths. Reiss and I exchanged a knowing glance, feeling a surge of emotion. It brought tears to my eyes, reminding me why we chose to live life aboard a boat – to embrace these spellbinding moments with our children.


As the sun dipped low, we figured it was about time to drop anchor. We weren't racing against the clock, so we scoped out a sweet little island with a snug anchorage spot. "Looks good to me," I said, steering us in.

But, you know how it goes – things always take longer than expected. By the time we were ready to toss that anchor, the sky was turning all shades of twilight.

It was a first for us – using the anchor in an unfamiliar anchorage. I'll admit, it was a bit of a learning curve. We fumbled through it, trying a couple of times before getting it right. And let me tell you, communicating on a 56-footer with limited experience was no picnic. But somehow, we managed to figure it out. Honestly, I had my doubts, but hey, we got there in the end.





Bolongo boatworkx..

Inspection With a Scare
From St. Mandrier to Le Lavandou
Le Lavandou to Antibes
From Nice to Tunis
The ribat Location Monastir
Monastir a Sailors Delight

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