The Race Is On

Last few days with Joe and a few realisations as we head for the port we started at for a 6 week break while the weather cools and the crowds get smaller.

7/26/20265 min read

Having spent the night in Bandol, complete with air-conditioned toilets and the discovery of an air-conditioned bar, we were all feeling a little recharged for our final sail together back to Marseille. It was time to celebrate Tim’s birthday and, sadly, for Joe to head home.

As it was Joe’s last chance to sail with us, Tim handed him the helm first thing.

“Joe, get us to Marseille. It’s your last sail—you’re captain today.”

It made me smile because many years ago, when we used to go campervanning around France, we’d have a “Boss of the Day”. That person got to choose where we went, what we ate and what adventure we had. I guess, as a family, some things never change… only the mode of transport!

Luckily for Joe, the wind was a steady 20 knots and blowing exactly the right way. It took him no time at all to have us heeling over at a crazy angle. Then he spotted another sailing yacht heading in the same direction.

The race was on.

Joe was grinning, Novera was flying, and we shared one of those perfect family moments where everyone naturally slips into their role, working together and enjoying the simple pleasure of sailing.

Of course, the wind had other ideas and soon shifted, leaving us bouncing through the waves. But even that turned into fun as we tried to capture photos of the water crashing over the bow and laughed our way through the literal highs and lows of the sea state.

Before reaching Marseille, we had one last opportunity to put the sails back up and cut between two islands under sail. Joe took the helm again, showing no fear as he navigated the surprisingly narrow channel. And yes… he found another boat to race!

All those years of dinghy sailing have clearly left their mark. Joe simply can’t help himself. While his parents are quite happy to cruise, he trims every sail, squeezes every ounce of speed from the boat and plots the perfect racing line. Watching him enjoy himself so much was almost as much fun as sailing itself.

Back in Marseille, I could see the tension creeping into Tim. Our last attempt at mooring there hadn’t exactly gone to plan.

I reminded him that this time we were a team of three.

“We’ve got this.”

Someone must have been looking down kindly on us because the wind eased just enough. Our berth was wonderfully wide, nearly two boat widths, and as we approached into the wind, Novera behaved beautifully instead of being blown around like an autumn leaf.

The temptation to cheer when the lines were finally secured was enormous, but instead we did the sensible thing…

We opened a beer.

It was still unbelievably hot, so after long showers we headed out to celebrate Tim’s birthday. Even better, we discovered a brewery with an air-conditioned seating area.

How had we missed this place before?

The conversation flowed almost as freely as the beer, and it was the perfect way to end nine fantastic days with Joe.

The following morning, as we watched his taxi pull away, I found myself unexpectedly emotional.

I hadn’t realised just how much his visit—and perhaps more importantly, his approval of our new lifestyle—had meant to me.

As parents, I think we always feel we should be the solid ground beneath our children’s feet. The safe place they know they can always return to. Joe doesn’t live at home anymore, but I’ve always wanted him to know that “home” is there whenever he needs it.

Now, home floats.

I worried that living aboard and only spending part of the year on land might somehow unsettle him.

But standing there watching him leave, I realised something.

It wasn’t Joe who needed reassuring.

It was me.

I needed the confidence to believe that Joe wouldn't feel his sense home was not as constant as before just because we were not there.

So, what have I learned during this adventure?

I’ve learned an enormous amount about sailing… and discovered I still have so much more to learn.

I’ve learned about myself.

I’ve learned about Tim and me as we navigate this next chapter of our lives together called retirement.

I’ve learned that very few arguments are worth carrying. On a boat there’s nowhere to stomp off to anyway! A quick kiss and a sincere “sorry” are worth far more than proving who’s right. 😂

And perhaps most importantly—especially as this has been Tim’s dream for so many years—I’ve discovered that I genuinely love sailing.

It’s not always easy.

It’s certainly not always comfortable.

There are days when you’re hot, tired, wet, salty, frustrated or wondering why on earth you’ve chosen to do this..

But then come the sunsets.

The swims in crystal-clear water.

The dolphins.

The laughter.

The tiny anchorages.

The days when everything goes perfectly.

And perhaps even more importantly, the days when everything doesn’t—but somehow, together, you still make it work.

Those moments when you simply look at each other and say, often with much relief “We did it.”

The sea is never just blue. It has endless shades, endless textures, endless patterns, quietly telling you what the wind is doing long before you feel it. Sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it roars. It can be peaceful enough to lull you to sleep or powerful enough to remind you who’s really in charge.

Living on the water keeps you just a little outside your comfort zone.

And I think that’s why it makes you feel so alive.

So, Novera, Tim and I are taking a few weeks to recharge. After sailing almost continuously since March, I can hardly believe we’ve made it to August.

So after a few days in Toulon waiting out a storm we are headed back to where it all began in Port Napoleon. I wonder how we will feel docking? We practiced all those months ago with Luc before setting off and now we are not perfect but after more than 1000 miles we are definitely much better sailors!

If you want to comment or chat why not email me hayley@sailingnover.com