Departure day!
Andreas and Wolfgang were escorting me in the taxi to the TGV train station, so I said goodbye to Andi and Nora.
On the way to the train station, Andreas had the taxi take a circuituitous route that passed a few landmarks, including the Catholic cathedral we saw from the water. But this was literally a 5 minute tour of the city, and I was just firing the camera out the window as we sped by.
Once at the train station, I said my goodbyes to Andreas and Wolfgang, and thanked Andreas once again for his generosity. I’d been talking about doing this for so many years!
At 9am, I boarded the TGV train and headed for Paris.
The train took me straight from Marseilles to the Charles De Gaulle airport on the outskirts of Paris. I would arrive three hours before my flight, so with plenty of time to spare, which was good because I got off the train at the wrong stop. Of all places, I got off at the stop for Disneyland Paris, which is just before the airport stop — nooo, I definitely don’t want to go there! As we pulled into the station, I think they probably announced that CDG was coming up at the next stop after that, but with their impenetrable English and bad P.A. sound system, I probably just recognized “Charles de Gaulle” and bolted off the train.
Finally, the flight from Paris to Atlanta.
Whew!
Thank you Uncle Andreas!
We departed Porquerolles, and promptly got a chance at some more diagonal sailing. Here’s an action shot, screenshotted from Wolfgang’s video for the day. We’re about to execute a turn, from having the wind coming at us from the right / starboard, to having the wind coming at us from the left / port. Nora is at far left, ready to crank the winch that will tighten up the main sail, and I’m collecting the thick rope (“sheet”) coming off that winch and keeping it taughtly wound on the winch so that the winch will grab it. Andreas’s striped shirt is barely visible at lower right, as he is going to pull over the mainsail anchor, along a rail out of view below the video frame. Finally, Andi is at the helm, having just called the turn (“Wende”, the German word for “change”). At this instant, I’m watching the bow waiting for when it starts veering right across the horizon, into the wind and then through the turn to put the wind on the other side of the boat.
We sailed by a freaky … military base? Billionarie’s lair? CIA hideout? Who knows.
Andreas napping in his favorite spot.
We sailed into a little cove. People were hiking in the hills, jumping from outcrops into the water, generally enjoying the day. A small ferry passed by with tourists gawking at us eating lunch. It was probably a lot easier to get to the tiny town at the end of the cove by sea than by land.
We passed the bare white cliffs of the 
after mile of incredible coastline.
As we approached the port of Marseilles, we dropped our sails and proceeded under engine power, to preserve full maneuverability. There were huge ships passing nearby and you don’t mess with them or you get flattened. In fact, in this shot you see a harbor pilot boat heading straight for us to make sure we know damn well which way to go.
Another ferry colossus. No sudden movements …
Overlooking the harbor is the Palais du Pharo, built in the 1800s for Napoleon, and in front of that is the Monument to the Heroes and Victims of the Sea.
On the other side of the water looms the 
Right at the marina entrance, the Fort Saint-Jean. What an amazing, historic city.
Just as we approached the marina entrance, we encountered some young men (perhaps the Euro equivalent of frat boys) whose sailboat was stranded with a dead engine. Andreas quickly threw a rope over to them and towed them in, literally dropping them off at a pier as we motored by it.
Before we left Saint-Maxime, we ooh’d and aah’d over a neighbor. It was another, much larger sailing vessel (I hesitate to call it a boat) made by the same company (
We departed Sainte-Maxime, got out into the open water, and picked up a pretty good wind which had us leaned over pretty hard.
The impossibly gorgeous and surely violently dangerous rocks of the Cap des Medes, and the ancient fortress (Batterie basse des Medes) perched atop the hills nearby.
We like Porquerolles so much on the way out that we decided to spend the night there again on the way back.
Steak tartare!
A great picture of our group, on our second to last night together.
We left the Bay of Agay and headed for the famed resort city of Saint-Tropez. Here’s a typical view along the way out of Agay.
At some point early in the day, we stopped near the shore and got another swim in, another ersatz shower. Andi and Nora jumped into the water from the roof of the boat’s cabin. I was too chickenshit to do that and just refereed the whole enterprise.
I don’t recall what I was doing here, but clearly I was messing with Nora.
Here’s a view of my accommodations for the week, the “room” in the bow. This photo is taken from the doorway looking in, and the very tip of the boat is behind my head. I had all my stuff on the left (including in the two small cabinets) and slept on the right. The big bag at center was my sleeping companion: the huge spinnaker (actually gennaker) sail that was shown in an earlier update here, packed up and ready for deployment next time. Andreas and Wolfgang had the main cabin (the main room inside the boat, holding the kitchen and radio and main table), and Andi and Nora had the rear cabin, only slightly larger than mine.
Andreas radio’d into the Saint-Tropez marina as we approached and they reported that they were full, so Andreas punted over to Saint-Maxime and we found a berth there. Sainte-Maxime is on the north side of the Gulf of Tropez, across from Saint-Tropez.
Later in the day, after we had settled in, the three “young” ones took the ferry from St. Maxime over to Saint-Tropez, while Andreas and Wolfgang stayed back. Wolfgang video’d us boarding the ferry, which was RIGHT next to our little boat, and we enjoyed watching Andreas slaving away scrubbing the deck.
In Saint-Tropez, men playing bocce ball (actually boule) in the town square.
Hiked up to a hilltop to get a good view of Saint-Tropez
Beauty shot of Andi and Nora during the golden hour.
In the morning,we went back into town, within the old city walls, to do some more exploring and shopping. We found a Provencal street market where I was able to buy a big bag of the Camargue salt that Sharon loves to use for cooking. Actually, I bought a big bag and a small bag, so I could give her the small one and then surprise her with even more (ha ha, I’m a comedy genius).
You can barely make out our party, having a late breakfast, dead center in this photo.
We climbed up and down all over the old town. Note here the swimmers in the water near the rocks.
Just a random street scene from a residential neighborhood.
Mandatory addition to the collection of cats spotted on vacation trips.
Finally we made our way back out through the old city walls and to the marina.
Gerhard showed us his smaller sailboat, recently outfitted with a new interior. Cozy!
From there, I went out on my own and visited the old fortress that looked over the harbor.
Finally after lunchtime we set sail again, passing the oil baron yachts again on the way out. Antibes was as far east as we would sail along the French coast. The next stop would have been Nice, which is a practically a metropolis (and which I’d visited briefly as a teenager). Monaco was beyond that. They are all fabulously glamorous destinations, I’m sure, but probably a bit of a pain to deal with in a little sailboat, and a stretch for us if we wanted to get back to Marseilles in time for my train out, and so we were now going to head back to the west.
We put up the sails and made good time, which was a good thing because we had a pretty long way to go to make it to Andreas’ desired stop for the evening.
Along the way, a French destroyer passed us.
Here’s a view of the instrumentation at the captain’s position. The map display at right shows (with a small red X) our intended destination for the day. The black lever at bottom is the engine control, shown here set to neutral / off.
After a long afternoon of sailing, we arrived in the 
In the morning, Andreas’ friend Wolfgang arrived in Frejus by train and joined us on the sailboat. So now we were five.
Wolfgang had a video camera and was videoing a lot, which I found annoying at the time, but for which I am now thankful, because it documented where we went for the rest of the trip. I had kept notes about where we had gone and what we did up to this point, which resulted in the blog posts that preceded this one, but I fell behind starting with this leg of the trip. Wolfgang’s videos (which he provided to us later) were crucial in helping me remember the details, and I thank him for running that annoying camera!
We sailed out of Frejus and headed towards Antibes.
Antibes is a historic destination on the French Mediterranean coast. I suppose that if you approached on land, you’d be driving through the amazing Provencal landscapes. But entering via the harbor, your introduction to the town is the massive yachts of the Middle Eastern oil barons — yachts that are the size of small military ships. They have to get moored at the outer edge of the harbor, since they are far too big to navigate closer in. They are typically fully staffed at all times, kept cleaned and stocked with supplies, and ready at any time to depart if the owner decides he wants to move on. That is, if the owner is even in Antibes …
Even among the regular motorboats, we looked modest. But this sailboat is a serious machine, built for the open ocean. 
Andreas has an old friend who had retired to Antibes, and he brought us into the old city and took us out to dinner, a true fine dining experience that was representative of the local cuisine. It really was one of the most beautiful towns I’ve ever seen, and I hope someday to return with Sharon.