In the Champion supermarket Martin picked out the best 4€ reds by just reading the labels.  Robin put a block on the veal.  Derek wanted plenty of everything and Ian pushed the trolley all the way back to the boat. Well provisioned, we left for Calvi on Corsica at 15 00 on Monday 13^th June 2002. After a pleasant and uneventful night sail Compromis was passing the Citadel just before 09 00 and it was time to start the engine.  Nothing happened.

“Is the engine battery switch turned on Derek?”

“It is Rudi” replied Derek.

I turned the key several times but was always met with the same response.  Nothing.

“Have you got jump leads so we can use the domestic battery?” asked Derek.

“No Derek.  There are no jump leads on board.”

Looking around it was a beautiful morning except that we were reaching into the bay at six knots and had no way of starting the engine.  At least we could reduce sail and give ourselves more time.

“Rudi, the leads from the domestic batteries are too short to jump across” called up Derek.

Searching for options I looked across at a yacht on a parallel course and thought about calling across for a tow when I remembered having to put large quantities of distilled water into the starter battery in the winter.

“Check the electrolyte Derek” I called from the wheel.  Don’t you just love sailing with engineers.?

“There isn’t any.”

It took the 1.5 litres and some boiled tap water to fill it but the engine started first time.  Speculation was rife and the new Ardverk charging control system was first in line but the battery had run dry in the winter before it was fitted.  On shore power in Calvi the battery got very hot as it did motoring on the way back with the Ardvark unit disconnected all of which pointed to a new battery which I fitted when we returned.

Calvi was lovely at that time of the year, sunny, warm and not too crowded.  After a lamb casserole aboard and a couple of beers ashore it was early to bed as the others had decided to take the 06 15 train to Corte in the mountains. When they returned they were over the moon about the mountains, the train ride and Corte itself.

With five crew I set two watches of two for the trip back with myself in reserve. We were well clear of Calvi before I awoke, the others having cast off at 05 25.  The sea was flat calm and we were surrounded by trillions of tiny blue sea creatures with semi-circular sails.  Martin, the marine biologist, said they were larval forms of jelly fish but I pointed out that they had a shell.  Robin fashioned a net from a Pringles tube and a boat hook and captured a few.  The transparent oval body had concentric rings which gave the appearance of a shell but I had to concede that they were in fact jelly fish.  The embryonic tentacles around he edge were also a give away.

In the afternoon more dolphins appeared 200m off the port bow on a reciprocal course.  Within minutes some twenty to thirty had changed course toward us and were leaping out of the water as they charged across.  I know it is not good science but it is easy to be convinced they were overjoyed to see us and the leaping was an expression of that pleasure.  With the boat on autopilot and all of us on the foredeck they put on a spectacular display rushing at Compromis from all directions, swimming within inches of the bow and going on their sides so as to get a better look at us.  Where was the Darwinian advantage in this behaviour?

Towards sunset swallows began circling the boat and since we were both going in the same direction we gave them credit for wanting to hitch a ride through the night.  Scores settled on the guard rail but not content with that they started going down below and at one stage two settled on Mike J‘s hat.  Their folded wings looked like aggressively hunched shoulders.  Their diamond shaped beaks and the staring unblinking eyes on each side of the red plumage of their chests seem to be asking, Where the hell are you lot going to and why can’t you get a move on?”

After posing the question for several minutes and getting no satisfactory reply they unfurled their wings and flew off into the gathering gloom.

After a day in San Remo it was only a short sail to Monaco. Although it was the weekend before the Grand Prix the whole town was ready.  The circuit was surrounded by crash barriers, grandstands were up around the Lido and the pits were full of old Formula I cars.

Monday morning was Liz’s weather. There was 15kts apparent, flat water, fine reaching and sunny.  We laid La Garoupe in one and anchored for lunch and a swim and were back in Antibes for dinner.

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