👉Time for reflection in Gruissan

Time for Reflection in Gruissan — In More Ways Than One

Fresh from what felt like our near‑sinking episode, we decided we’d earned a long weekend in Gruissan. The marina reviews were glowing, the old town promised medieval charm with the remains of the Barberousse Tower, and the idea of hopping on a bus to beautiful Narbonne (just 14 km away) sounded perfect.

With barely a whisper of wind, we had another gentle sail — plenty of time to watch tuna leaping everywhere except onto the hook of Tim’s newly acquired tuna rod from Sète. Hope springs eternal.

Feeling relaxed, we checked the approach notes for Gruissan. The warning said: beware shallow water. They were not kidding. As we crept down the channel between the markers, I called out the depth numbers… falling… falling… until we hit 0.0. Zero. Actual zero. Those few seconds of disbelief were enough to spike both our heart rates. Seeing it climb back to 0.7m felt like winning the lottery.

Having survived the gauntlet of sandbars, we pulled alongside the pontoon and the Capitainerie as instructed. Two kind gentlemen caught our ropes and tied us on. The cleats were the knuckle type — not what we were used to — but trusting their experience, Tim hopped ashore with the documents while I enjoyed the sunshine and snapped a photo.

Then I glanced at the ropes.

To my horror, one was slowly working itself loose… and Novera was beginning to drift. My instinct — and obvious inexperience— was to leap ashore and tighten the rope, which I did. Unfortunately, the line at the bow had now come completely off and was in the water. With the wind pushing her, Novera swung 90 degrees, held only by the stern line I was clinging to. My heart stopped. What on earth do I do now.

Thankfully, Tim appeared at exactly the right moment, took one look at the situation, and sprinted aboard. Engine on, bow rope retrieved with urgency, and I released my line so he could bring her back alongside. Off we went — politely declining any further “help” — and made our own way to our berth.

We slept well that night, though both of us replayed the “what ifs” in our dreams. Lesson learned: always check lines tied by others. Every day’s a school day.

Morning brought relief, sunshine, and the ability to laugh about it. With no damage done other than to our egos, we planned to head off to explore Gruissan, but not before Tim's 'George Clooney moment!' Days away from a 'man bun' he was keen to visit the coiffeur. The nearest one was run by a charming hairdresser Tim said was in her 60's with a blue rinse and dog in the window greeting people through the glass as they passed by. His haircut was rather short but after her efforts he joked and said he was happy. Je m'appelle George Clooney!. The joke translated well - I laughed too as he retold the experience to me.

So with George at my side we set off walking to the old town.. The old town was charming — narrow streets curling up to the tower, and from the top, a stunning view of the salt lagoon glowing pink in the midday sun. Lunch was lovely… and unfortunately for Tim, directly opposite a shop selling a very fetching pink straw hat. A purchase was made. Local wine may have influenced the decision.

The next day we ventured further, catching an early bus to Narbonne. With its canal running through the centre, beautiful squares, and grand cathedral, it didn’t disappoint. Over lunch, a Canadian traveller overheard our Yorkshire accents and struck up a conversation — twenty minutes of lively chat about travel, adventure, and grabbing life with both hands.

That evening, tired and happy, Tim took the most incredible photo. I often say water can look like a mirror, but in Gruissan it was ridiculously reflective — like the world had been flipped upside down.

The following morning we woke ready to tackle more boat jobs. Somehow, on Novera, they don’t feel like chores. She’s more than a mode of transport; looking after her feels like caring for something special. Proud of our progress, we treated ourselves to lunch out and planned our next move. With a small tide to consider, we decided on an early departure — anything to avoid another 0.0 moment.

And what a reward. The morning reflections were as breath-taking as the night before. Gruissan gave us time to learn, time to breathe, and time to enjoy some truly spectacular mirror‑calm moments.