Alquiler de Yate en Cerdeña y Córcega

Your charter begins at Marina di Olbia, a fifteen-minute taxi ride from Olbia (OLB) airport on Sardinia's northeast coast. Your captain and chef meet you on the dock, walk you through the yacht, stow the luggage, and cover the chart for the days ahead — including the strait-crossing day mid-week, which the captain will time around the morning's Mistral forecast. The marina is deep-water capable for any size yacht, and the early afternoon is yours to settle in.

Once provisioning is squared away, lines off for the short sixteen-nautical-mile run northeast around Capo Figari and into the southern end of the Costa Smeralda. The Costa Smeralda is the most concentrated stretch of granite coastline in the Mediterranean — sixty kilometers from Cape Figari to Santa Teresa Gallura, with anchorages tucked into pockets of pink granite every two or three miles. Pevero Bay sits just south of Porto Cervo, framed by two white sandy beaches and protected from any direction the Mistral might be blowing.

First night at anchor in Pevero. Chef-prepared welcome dinner on the aft deck — bottarga di Olbia grated over fregola sarda with clams, a glass of Vermentino di Gallura from the granite-soil vineyards a few miles inland, and the lights of the Hotel Cala di Volpe across the bay coming on after sunset. The Mistral, if it's blowing, drops at dusk.

Slow morning at Pevero. Swim off the back of the boat, breakfast on deck, then a short afternoon reposition into Cala di Volpe — the deeper bay just north, with the eponymous hotel above the water and Phi Beach a few minutes' tender ride away. Lunch at Phi if the table works for the group: the beach club is built into the granite cliffs above Baja Sardinia, more rough-hewn than the polished resort version most guests imagine, and the food reads more authentic than the postcard.

By mid-afternoon, lines off for the eighteen-nautical-mile run north up the granite coast and across the Maddalena Sound to Caprera. The Maddalena Archipelago — seven major islands plus a scatter of smaller cays — sits inside a national park with managed anchoring fields, and Caprera is the second largest. Garibaldi lived out the back end of his life here; the house is now a museum, but most guests come for the granite coves on the south coast and the white-sand beaches on the east.

Evening at anchor off Caprera. The water turns the color of a pool light an hour before sundown. Dinner aboard tonight — chef-prepared, on the aft deck, with the lights of Maddalena town a couple of miles off the bow.

The strait day. Your captain checks the morning's wind forecast at first light: when the Mistral is settled, the strait is flat enough to swim across; when it's blowing twenty-five-plus, the captain may push the crossing to the afternoon or hold a day. The standard plan is mid-morning departure for a swim stop at the Lavezzi Islands — a French marine reserve of granite outcrops in the middle of the strait, six nautical miles from Bonifacio and seven from Maddalena, with shallow turquoise water and protected anchoring fields outside the no-anchor zones.

From Lavezzi the run into Bonifacio takes another forty-five minutes. The approach is unforgettable: the harbor is cut into the limestone cliffs themselves, and the yacht enters through a narrow fjord-like channel with the haute ville — the medieval walled town built on the cliff-top peninsula — rising directly above. The town has been there since the ninth century, and most of the wall still stands. Stern-to mooring inside the marina or anchor outside; the captain handles the booking.

Afternoon ashore. Walk the haute ville (twenty minutes around the perimeter, more if you stop at the chapels), down the King of Aragon Stairway — a hundred and eighty-seven steps cut into the cliff face, supposedly carved overnight by Aragonese soldiers in the fifteenth century — and across to the cemetery at the cliff edge with views back across the strait to Sardinia. Dinner ashore tonight at a stone-walled tavern in the haute ville: charcuterie de Corse, fresh-grilled fish off the day's boat, and a glass of Patrimonio rosé.

Slow morning in Bonifacio. Walk back into the haute ville for coffee, do the King of Aragon Stairway descent and climb if the group is up for it (the climb is the harder direction; allow forty-five minutes), and stop at the stone-walled cemetery at the cliff edge for the long view across the strait. By late morning, lines off and back across to Sardinia.

The return crossing is shorter — the captain steers a course toward Cala Coticcio on the east coast of Caprera, locally called the Tahiti of Sardinia. The cove is approachable only by tender; the granite boulders frame a half-moon of fine white sand and the water turns the color of a pool light. Anchor offshore, tender into the cove for an afternoon swim, and back aboard for a slow late lunch.

Evening reposition a few miles south to a quieter Caprera anchorage for the night. Dinner aboard tonight — chef-prepared, with the granite ridges of Caprera holding the last of the day's heat after sunset and the lights of the next yacht over (if there is one) a few hundred yards off the bow.

Today is the island day. Your captain repositions the yacht north into the cluster of smaller islands at the top of the Maddalena Archipelago — Spargi, Budelli, Razzoli, Santa Maria, and the small cays in between — for a full day of swim stops with no long passages. The first stop is Cala Corsara on the south coast of Spargi: a half-mile cove ringed by pink granite outcrops, the kind of water clarity that reads twenty meters of visibility on a calm day, and a managed anchoring field that limits how many yachts can sit there at once.

From Spargi a short tender-and-binoculars run takes you past Budelli's famous Pink Beach (Spiaggia Rosa), where strict look-only restrictions have been in force since 1994 — the pink color comes from microscopic coral and shell fragments and the beach is one of only two of its kind in the Mediterranean. Don't try to land; the harbor police monitor it. The look from offshore is the point. Razzoli sits just north of Budelli with a different shoreline texture, and Santa Maria — the most northerly of the cluster — has a long sand beach on its south side that's less visited than the headline anchorages.

Late afternoon, drop into Cala di Roto's natural pool. The pool is a sheltered shallow basin tucked at the back of the anchorage; it sits a few feet deep, turns a luminous turquoise mid-day, and stays glass-flat in any wind direction. Dinner aboard tonight, anchored in the cluster, the kind of evening that's the reason to have done the trip.

Slow morning swim off the stern, breakfast on deck, and a late-morning departure southbound. The captain works the route back along the Costa Smeralda's outer islands — Porto Rafael for a quieter midday stop, the granite headlands south of Cannigione, the small sand coves on the eastern shore of the Maddalena Sound that most yachts pass without anchoring.

Mid-afternoon, settle into Pevero Bay or Cala di Volpe — wherever the wind is best blocked. The Costa Smeralda is mostly a series of small bays inside larger ones, and most days the captain has options. Lunch ashore at Phi Beach if you missed it on Day 2, or a Costa Smeralda taverna ashore for an early dinner.

Evening aboard, anchored in the lee. The Costa Smeralda's last night is a slow one — the granite still holds the day's heat, the water turns from turquoise to navy as the sun drops, and the lights of Porto Cervo come up across the bay.

Last full day. Slow morning at anchor — swim, breakfast on deck, a final tender ride into a quiet beach if the group wants one. By mid-day the captain works the short ten-nautical-mile run back south around Capo Figari and into the Gulf of Olbia.

Settle into Marina di Olbia in the early afternoon. Walk into Olbia town if you have the energy — the old town is small enough to cover in an hour, and a final lunch at one of the seafront restaurants is the unhurried close most groups take. Final chef-prepared dinner aboard tonight, anchored in the marina with the day's last light over the gulf.

Pack at your own pace. Your captain has the morning's transfer logistics already squared away.

A last slow breakfast aboard at Marina di Olbia, a final swim off the stern if the harbor allows, and disembarkation by mid-morning. Your crew handles the transfer logistics: OLB is fifteen minutes by taxi, with direct summer flights to most major European hubs and an easy connection to the US East Coast through Rome, Milan, Frankfurt, or London. Step off with a passport that crossed one border the captain handled for you, a granite coast and a medieval citadel behind you, and the kind of week that makes most Mediterranean charter guests come back for the longer route.

Your charter begins at Marina di Olbia, a fifteen-minute taxi ride from Olbia (OLB) airport on Sardinia's northeast coast. Your captain and chef meet you on the dock, walk you through the yacht, stow the luggage, and cover the chart for the days ahead. Provisioning is squared away by early afternoon; lines off when the group's ready.

Most guests on this itinerary expect to head north toward Costa Smeralda on day one. The captain instead points the bow south for the twelve-nautical-mile run to Tavolara — a single limestone ridge rising five hundred meters straight out of the sea, designated as Italy's first marine-protected area. The anchorages on the lee side of Tavolara hold flat in any wind direction, the water visibility runs to twenty meters on a clear day, and the cruising traffic is a fraction of what's working the Costa Smeralda anchorages a few miles north.

First night at anchor in the lee of Tavolara. Chef-prepared welcome dinner aboard — Sardinian seafood, a glass of Vermentino di Gallura, the limestone ridge holding the day's heat after sunset and the lights of Porto San Paolo a couple of miles off the bow.

Slow morning at Tavolara — swim, breakfast on deck. Mid-morning lines off for a five-nautical-mile reposition north to Cala Brandinchi, Sardinia's south-east-coast version of "Tahiti of Sardinia" — a half-mile crescent of fine white sand backed by low scrub and stone pines, with shallow turquoise water that runs warm. Lunch at anchor, swim off the back of the boat.

Late afternoon, lines off for the longer fifteen-nautical-mile run north around Capo Figari and into the southern end of the Costa Smeralda. Cala di Volpe is the deepest sheltered anchorage on this stretch — sand bottom, Mistral protection, and the Hotel Cala di Volpe sitting on the headland above the water. The captain calls Pevero or Cala di Volpe based on the afternoon's wind, and you settle in for the first of two nights on the Costa Smeralda.

Dinner aboard tonight, in the lee of the granite ridges. Chef-prepared on the aft deck. The Costa Smeralda granite holds the day's heat after sunset; the water turns from turquoise to navy as the lights come up across the bay.

Slow Costa Smeralda day. The captain may reposition five nautical miles between Pevero, Cala di Volpe, and Liscia di Vacca depending on the wind, but the route is short — most of the day is on the hook. Morning swim, paddleboard or kayak into the headlands, and a late-morning tender to Phi Beach for lunch if the table works. Phi is the beach club built into the cliffs above Baja Sardinia: open-air, granite walls, and a kitchen that runs Sardinian seafood-led with the occasional Italian-mainland classic.

Afternoon ashore: walk Porto Cervo's village above the marina — twenty minutes end-to-end, hand-built in the 1960s by a small group of Aga Khan's architects who refused to repeat any single building twice. The village is small enough that you'll cover it slowly with a stop at the Stella Maris church (a Vassily Kandinsky painting hangs inside) and a coffee at the piazza. Marina di Porto Cervo holds seven hundred slips and yachts to a hundred meters; walking the quayside reads more interesting than most guests expect.

Dinner aboard tonight or ashore at one of the Costa Smeralda restaurants — the captain books ahead. The Sardinian table is what most guests come back for: fregola sarda, suckling pig roasted under a bell, bottarga di Olbia grated over pasta, and a Cannonau red from the inland vineyards that doesn't travel well outside the country.

Slow morning on the Costa Smeralda — swim, breakfast on deck, optional walk into Cala di Volpe village if the group hasn't done it. By late morning, lines off for the fifteen-nautical-mile run north up the granite coast and across the Maddalena Sound to Caprera, the second-largest island in the archipelago.

The Maddalena Archipelago sits inside an Italian national park. Anchoring is managed — fields with mooring buoys in the heavily-trafficked coves, and the captain pays the per-yacht park fee online before crossing into the park boundary. The water turns the cleanest blue of the cruising ground, reading thirty meters of visibility on a settled day. Caprera holds Garibaldi's preserved house on its north coast (a museum, optional shore stop), but most charters come for the granite coves on the south coast and the white-sand beaches on the east.

Settle in for the night at one of Caprera's south-coast anchorages. Chef-prepared dinner aboard. The lights of Maddalena town a couple of miles off the bow.

Today is the island day. Your captain repositions north into the cluster of smaller islands at the top of the Maddalena Archipelago — Spargi, Budelli, Razzoli, Santa Maria, and the small cays in between — for a full day of swim stops with no long passages. The first stop is Cala Corsara on the south coast of Spargi: a half-mile cove ringed by pink granite outcrops, the kind of water clarity that reads twenty meters of visibility on a calm day, and a managed anchoring field that limits how many yachts can sit there at once.

From Spargi a short tender-and-binoculars run takes you past Budelli's famous Pink Beach (Spiaggia Rosa), where strict look-only restrictions have been in force since 1994 — the pink color comes from microscopic coral and shell fragments and the beach is one of only two of its kind in the Mediterranean. Don't try to land; the harbor police monitor it. The look from offshore is the point. Razzoli sits just north of Budelli with a different shoreline texture, and Santa Maria — the most northerly of the cluster — has a long sand beach on its south side that's less visited than the headline anchorages.

Late afternoon, drop into Cala di Roto's natural pool. The pool is a sheltered shallow basin tucked at the back of the anchorage; it sits a few feet deep, turns a luminous turquoise mid-day, and stays glass-flat in any wind direction. Dinner aboard tonight, anchored in the cluster, the kind of evening that's the reason to have done the trip.

Slow morning swim from the Maddalena cluster anchorage, breakfast on deck. Mid-morning, an eight-nautical-mile run southeast back toward the east coast of Caprera and Cala Coticcio — locally called the Tahiti of Sardinia. The cove is approachable only by tender; the granite boulders frame a half-moon of fine white sand, and the water turns the color of a pool light. Anchor offshore, tender into the cove for the morning, and back aboard for a slow late lunch.

Afternoon at anchor on Caprera's east coast. Water toys deployed — paddleboards, kayaks, snorkel kit. The captain may reposition a mile or two between coves depending on the afternoon's wind, but the day's miles are done. The Maddalena's quieter coves see only one or two yachts on a typical evening; on the Costa Smeralda you're never alone in an anchorage, but here you can be.

Dinner aboard tonight, the kind of last-night-but-one meal that the trip is built around. Chef-prepared, on the aft deck, with the granite ridges holding the last of the day's heat.

Last full day at anchor. Slow morning swim from Caprera, breakfast on deck. By late morning, lines off for the longest leg of the week — a twenty-two-nautical-mile run south along the Costa Smeralda's outer islands and back into the Gulf of Olbia. The captain may stop at Santa Teresa Gallura on Sardinia's northern tip for an optional walk through the working fishing harbor and the Spanish watchtower above it.

Settle into Marina di Olbia in the early afternoon. Walk into Olbia town if you have the energy — the old town is small enough to cover in an hour, and a final lunch at one of the seafront restaurants is the unhurried close most groups take. Final chef-prepared dinner aboard tonight, anchored in the marina with the day's last light over the gulf.

Pack at your own pace. Your captain has the morning's transfer logistics already squared away.

A last slow breakfast aboard at Marina di Olbia, a final swim off the stern if the harbor allows, and disembarkation by mid-morning. Your crew handles the transfer logistics: OLB is fifteen minutes by taxi, with direct summer flights to most major European hubs and an easy connection to the US East Coast through Rome, Milan, Frankfurt, or London. Step off with the granite coast and the Maddalena behind you, and the kind of unhurried Italian week that most charter guests describe as the one they wished they'd booked the first time.

Your charter begins at Marina d'Ajaccio, a ten-minute taxi ride from Ajaccio (AJA) airport on Corsica's west coast. Your captain and chef meet you on the dock, walk you through the yacht, stow the luggage, and cover the chart for the days ahead. If you arrive early, Napoleon's birthplace house is a fifteen-minute walk through the old town, and the citadel above the harbor adds another half-hour if you're inclined.

By early afternoon, lines off for the short ten-nautical-mile run out of the gulf to the Sanguinaires Islands — a chain of red-rock outcrops at the mouth of the bay, designated as a nature reserve and home to a population of Audouin's gulls. The islands take their name ("the bloody ones") from the way they turn deep red at sunset; the anchorage on the lee side holds in any westerly wind and the swimming off the back of the boat is the standard first-afternoon entry point.

First night at anchor in the lee of the Sanguinaires. Chef-prepared welcome dinner aboard — Corsican charcuterie to start, fresh-grilled fish off the day's boat, a glass of Patrimonio rosé from the vineyards on Cap Corse. The lights of Ajaccio glow back across the gulf as the sun drops behind the islands.

Slow morning at the Sanguinaires — swim, breakfast on deck, optional tender into the small lighthouse on the largest of the islands. By mid-morning, lines off for the twenty-five-nautical-mile northbound run up the west coast to Cargèse and the southern entrance of the Gulf of Porto.

Cargèse is a working coastal village with an unusual religious history: in the seventeenth century, a group of Greek Maniots fleeing Ottoman rule were granted land here by the Genoese authorities, and the village's two churches — Greek-Orthodox and Catholic — still sit opposite each other across the village square. Lunch ashore at one of the harbor restaurants is the standard mid-day stop. From Cargèse the captain works the run further north past Capo Rosso and into the Gulf of Porto.

Late afternoon, settle into an anchorage inside the gulf — the Calanques de Piana sit on the southern shore of the gulf entrance, a stretch of wind-eroded red porphyry cliffs designated UNESCO World Heritage in 1983. The cliffs catch the late-afternoon sun and turn the color of the desert. Dinner aboard tonight in the lee of the calanques.

Today is the marquee day. Mid-morning lines off for the short ten-nautical-mile run north along Corsica's west coast and into the Scandola Nature Reserve — designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1975 and accessible only from the water. The reserve runs nine kilometers of coast: red porphyry cliffs that drop straight into the sea, sea caves carved into the rock, and the densest population of nesting ospreys on the western Mediterranean. There is no shore access, no road, and no village; the protection is strict, and the captain follows the marked anchoring restrictions and minimum-distance rules at the cliff faces.

From Scandola a short tender or daysail brings you into Girolata, a fishing village on the southern shore of the gulf that's reachable only by boat or by a four-hour hiking trail through the Scandola hinterland. Twenty houses, a fishing harbor, a small Genoese fort overlooking the bay, and a population under fifty year-round. Lunch ashore at one of the two harbor restaurants — the catch is whatever came up that morning, and the bread is local — and a slow afternoon at anchor in the bay.

Dinner aboard tonight at Girolata. The lights of the village come up after sunset; the bay is sheltered in any direction the maestrale might be blowing; and there's no road noise because there's no road.

Slow morning at Girolata, second tender ride into the village if anyone wants one. By mid-morning, lines off for the twenty-five-nautical-mile run north up the coast to Calvi. The leg passes the open coast at Capo Rosso (the maestrale can throw swell here in the afternoon, which is why captains run it in the morning) and the long sand beaches of the Désert des Agriates — Corsica's only desert, a fifty-square-mile granite-and-scrub wilderness that backs onto the western coast.

By early afternoon you're rounding the western headland of Calvi Bay and into the marina or the bay itself. Calvi sits at the head of a five-mile crescent of fine sand backed by snow-capped mountains — the Monte Cinto range, Corsica's highest, sits inland and holds snow into June most years. The Genoese citadel rises above the marina on the western headland: built in the thirteenth century, occupied by the British Navy under Nelson in 1794 (where he lost his right eye to a French mortar shell), and home to the local legend that Christopher Columbus was born inside its walls.

Afternoon ashore. Walk the citadel (forty minutes around the perimeter), down through the lower town to the waterfront cafés, and along the beach if the group wants the long version. Dinner ashore tonight at one of the harbor restaurants or aboard with the citadel lit up across the bay — the captain has the booking either way.

Mid-morning lines off for the thirty-nautical-mile run east along the Balagne coast — the most fertile stretch of Corsica, with olive groves and chestnut orchards visible from the water. Mid-day stop at Île Rousse: the village takes its name from the small reddish-granite islets that sit offshore, and the harbor runs the daily Marseille ferry. Lunch ashore at one of the harbor cafés or back aboard.

Afternoon, the captain works the longer leg eastbound around the western base of Cap Corse and into Saint-Florent. The peninsula of Cap Corse sticks forty kilometers north into the Mediterranean from the rest of the island, with the Patrimonio vineyards on its western base — Corsica's best-known wine appellation, growing rosé and malvasia on chalk-soil terraces a few kilometers inland from Saint-Florent. Optional shore excursion to the vineyards in the late afternoon (the captain books the visit ahead).

Dinner aboard tonight at Saint-Florent or ashore at one of the harbor restaurants. The Genoese citadel above the harbor lights up after sunset; the village is small enough to walk in twenty minutes.

Slow Saint-Florent morning. Optional walk into the village for coffee, a final tender into the Patrimonio side if anyone missed the vineyard visit. By mid-morning, the captain calls the day's route based on weather: the maestrale-up option is a direct return southwest along the Balagne coast back toward the Gulf of Porto; the maestrale-settled option is a twenty-five-mile loop up the west coast of Cap Corse to Nonza and a few of the smaller terraced villages, and back south.

If the Cap Corse loop runs, Nonza is the marquee stop. The village sits on a clifftop with a single Genoese watchtower and a black-volcanic-rock beach below — a leftover from a former asbestos quarry that closed in the 1960s and is now a striking shoreline texture you don't see anywhere else on the cruising ground. A vertical-ladder access drops from the village to the beach for guests who want to walk down. Lunch aboard mid-day, slow afternoon at anchor in one of the smaller coves on the southwest side of Cap Corse.

Late afternoon, the captain works the southbound run back toward the Calvi area or further south depending on how many miles are left for the final return day. Dinner aboard tonight, anchored in the lee of the maestrale wherever the day ended.

Last full day at anchor. Slow morning swim and breakfast on deck. Mid-morning lines off for the twenty-five-nautical-mile southbound run along the western coast to a final stop at Propriano — the head of the Gulf of Valinco, with sand beaches on the south side and a working harbor at the village. Lunch ashore at one of the harbor cafés or back aboard.

Afternoon, the captain works the final fifteen miles south around the Punta di Senetosa and into the Gulf of Ajaccio. Settle into Marina d'Ajaccio in the early evening. Walk into Ajaccio's old town if you have the energy — the central pedestrian streets are small enough to cover in an hour, and a final lunch or aperitif at one of the seafront restaurants is the unhurried close most groups take.

Final chef-prepared dinner aboard tonight, anchored in the marina with the day's last light over the gulf. Pack at your own pace; your captain has the morning's transfer logistics already squared away.

A last slow breakfast aboard at Marina d'Ajaccio, a final swim off the stern if the harbor allows, and disembarkation by mid-morning. Your crew handles the transfer logistics: AJA is ten minutes by taxi, with direct summer flights to Paris, Marseille, Nice, Lyon, London, and a handful of additional European hubs. From the US, most guests connect through Paris-Charles de Gaulle. Step off with a UNESCO World Heritage marine reserve, a Genoese citadel, a Greek-Orthodox church, and a bottle of Patrimonio rosé behind you, and the kind of week that makes most Mediterranean charter guests come back for the cross-strait route the next year.

Your charter begins at Marina di Olbia, a fifteen-minute taxi ride from Olbia (OLB) airport. Your captain and chef meet you on the dock, walk you through the yacht, stow the luggage, and cover the chart for the days ahead — including the two longer at-sea days mid-week, which the captain runs early in the morning before the breeze builds. The marina is deep-water capable for any size yacht, and the early afternoon is yours to settle in.

Provisioning squared away, lines off for the short sixteen-nautical-mile run northeast around Capo Figari and into the Costa Smeralda. The Costa Smeralda is the most concentrated stretch of granite coastline in the Mediterranean; Pevero Bay sits just south of Porto Cervo, framed by two white sand beaches and protected from any wind direction the Mistral might be blowing.

First night at anchor in Pevero or stern-to at Porto Cervo Marina. Chef-prepared welcome dinner aboard — Sardinian seafood, a glass of Vermentino di Gallura, and the lights of the Costa Smeralda coming up across the bay. The trip is built around the next six days; the first night is the slow start.

Mid-morning lines off for the twenty-five-nautical-mile crossing of the Strait of Bonifacio. The captain checks the morning's wind forecast at first light: when the Mistral is settled, the strait is flat enough to swim across; when it's blowing twenty-five-plus, the boat may push the crossing to the early afternoon. A swim stop at the Lavezzi Islands — French marine reserve in the middle of the strait — typically anchors the mid-morning of the day.

From Lavezzi the run into Bonifacio takes another forty-five minutes. The harbor approach is unforgettable: cut into the limestone cliffs, with the haute ville rising directly above. Stern-to mooring inside the marina or anchor outside; the captain handles the booking. Walk the haute ville — the medieval walled town built on the cliff-top peninsula — in the late afternoon, the King of Aragon Stairway down and back if the group is up for it.

Dinner ashore tonight at one of the stone-walled taverns in the haute ville: charcuterie de Corse, fresh-grilled fish, and a glass of Patrimonio rosé. Or aboard with the haute ville lit up across the harbor.

Long day. The captain runs the seventy-nautical-mile leg up Corsica's west coast in the morning, before the maestrale builds — a planing motor yacht handles the leg in four to five hours, getting you into Calvi by early afternoon. The route passes the Calanques de Piana, the entrance to the Gulf of Porto, and the UNESCO Scandola Nature Reserve on the port side mid-day. Guests on the dedicated Corsica West Coast itinerary anchor inside Scandola; on this route, you see the red cliffs from the water as the boat passes.

By early afternoon you're rounding the western headland of Calvi Bay and into the marina or the bay itself. Calvi sits at the head of a five-mile crescent of fine sand backed by snow-capped mountains; the Genoese citadel rises above the marina on the western headland, occupied by Nelson in 1794 (where he lost his right eye to a French mortar shell) and home to the local legend that Christopher Columbus was born inside its walls.

Afternoon and evening ashore. Walk the citadel, drop into one of the harbor cafés or beach clubs, and dinner ashore tonight at one of Calvi's harbor restaurants. Or aboard with the citadel lit up across the bay.

Longest leg of the trip. The captain runs the eighty-nautical-mile crossing from Calvi to Saint-Tropez early in the morning — a planing motor yacht handles the leg in five hours; on a sailing yacht the same crossing takes twelve. Open-water passage across the Ligurian Sea, with no scheduled stops; the boat is moving the whole time and the day is for relaxing on deck rather than running a tight schedule.

By early afternoon, the boat is rounding the headland into Saint-Tropez Bay. Stern-to mooring at the old port quay (the captain holds a slot in advance) or anchor in the bay outside. Saint-Tropez itself is a small old fishing village — the harbor is still working, the pastel buildings above the quay are protected, and the high-season summer crowd is concentrated in a few specific bars and beach clubs.

Afternoon ashore: walk the old town, lunch at Sénéquier on the quay if the table works, and a tender ride east to Pampelonne Beach (three miles of fine sand with Club 55, Nikki Beach, and Tahiti Plage along the dunes). Dinner aboard tonight or ashore at one of the harbor restaurants — the captain books ahead.

Slow morning at Saint-Tropez. Optional walk through the morning market on the Place des Lices (Tuesday and Saturday), or breakfast aboard before lines-off. By mid-morning, the captain runs the thirty-nautical-mile leg east along the coast past the Massif de l'Estérel — the red volcanic-rock coastline that drops straight into the sea between Saint-Tropez and Cannes. The route is mostly inside the coast, with a stop possible at Théoule-sur-Mer if the group wants a swim.

Mid-day arrival into the Bay of Cannes. The captain calls Cannes harbor or the Lerins Islands anchorage — the Lerins (Sainte-Marguerite and Saint-Honorat) sit two miles offshore, and the smaller of the two (Saint-Honorat) holds an active Cistercian abbey where the monks make their own wine and run a public lunch service. Lunch at the abbey if the table works; otherwise lunch ashore at one of the Croisette beach clubs.

Afternoon and evening in Cannes. The Croisette runs the length of the seafront — palm-lined, beach clubs on one side, the harbor on the other. The Cannes Film Festival venue (Palais des Festivals) sits at the western end. Dinner ashore tonight or aboard with the harbor lights coming up.

Slow morning in Cannes. Lines off mid-morning for the twenty-nautical-mile coastal hop east, past Cap d'Antibes and into Antibes itself. Antibes' Port Vauban is one of the largest yacht harbors in the Mediterranean, with the medieval ramparts and the Picasso Museum (housed in the Château Grimaldi) directly behind the quay. Lunch ashore in the old town at one of the rampart-side restaurants, or a quick walk through the daily covered market.

Afternoon, the captain works the run east past Nice and into Villefranche Bay. The bay is a deep horseshoe between Cap Ferrat and Mont Boron — the deepest anchorage on the French Riviera, sheltered in any direction the wind might be blowing, and the standard overnight stop for guests on this route. Cap Ferrat's villa coast sits on the eastern shore: three kilometers of villa-lined headland between Nice and Monaco, with the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild the only one with public access.

Evening in Villefranche. Walk the old town in the late afternoon — the medieval Rue Obscure (a covered street that runs the length of the seafront) is the marquee piece. Dinner aboard tonight, anchored in the bay, with the lights of Villefranche running up the hillside above and the lights of Nice and Monaco visible from the deck.

Last full day. Slow morning at Villefranche — swim, breakfast on deck, optional tender into the old town for coffee. By late morning, lines off for the short five-nautical-mile final approach east into Monaco's Port Hercule.

Port Hercule is the only deep-water harbor on the Riviera between Italy and France — megayachts side-tied along the quay during the season, with the principality rising directly above. The Casino square (Place du Casino) sits at the top of the rock; the Grand Prix circuit runs through the streets and the marina is part of the Sainte-Dévote-to-Tabac stretch of the course; the Prince's Palace overlooks the harbor from the western headland.

Afternoon and evening ashore. Walk the Casino square, drop into the Hôtel de Paris bar opposite, walk up to the Prince's Palace if the group has the energy. Dinner aboard tonight at Port Hercule with the harbor lights coming up against the cliffs, or ashore at Le Louis XV (the Alain Ducasse restaurant inside the Hôtel de Paris) if the booking lined up. Final chef-prepared dinner aboard the more common pick on most charters — slower close, the trip's last full meal at anchor.

A last slow breakfast aboard at Port Hercule, a final tender into the harbor walk if the group wants one, and disembarkation by mid-morning. Your crew handles the transfer logistics: Nice (NCE) is thirty minutes by car or five minutes by Heli Air Monaco helicopter, with direct flights to most US East Coast hubs and essentially every major European city. Step off with the granite coast of Sardinia, the haute ville at Bonifacio, the Genoese citadel at Calvi, the old port at Saint-Tropez, the Croisette at Cannes, the villa coast of Cap Ferrat, and the Casino square at Monaco all behind you, and the kind of week that's hard to top inside seven days anywhere in the chartering industry.