Porto Cervo - playground of the profligate?

Undeterred by Peter and Caroline's story of their nightmare experience in Porto Cervo, we decided to go round for a look. It is a place that, we have read, every yachtsman should visit, being the main playground of the mega-boats, and capital of the Costa Smeralda. This "Emerald Coast" was, not so long ago, difficult, inhospitable farmland, until, as the story goes, the Aga Khan sought shelter in a nearby bay one stormy night and saw the potential for development. His first hotel was built in 1962 and since then the whole economy of the area has been turned around. There were restrictions on the building, and so there are no high-rises or unduly ugly eyesores (a matter of opinion), but it is more built up than we pictured, luxury villas crammed in to every space, with imported lawns and shrubs. That said, at night it looked quite pretty, with all the lights twinkling out of the trees, and the backdrop of mountains is spectacular.

Our first venture ashore was on a Sunday and it was quiet. We visited the rather unusual little church and the "village" reminded us of Portmerrion (of 'The Prisoner' fame.) It was immaculate, the waste bins hidden within the architecture, and the designer shops all subtle in their frontage. We were disappointed that none of the mega-yachts were so mega that they had helicopters, not uncommon here apparently, but the boats were so enormous that something we would have considered over the top back in Ocean Village would look positively insignificant here. A slightly twisted sense of humour in me took great delight in watching Chris post his tax return form in the post box here! I wonder why?

The water was the warmest we have swum in, although it was easily churned up and not so appealing as the turquoise of Porto Palma. What I shall remember the place for though, is the anchoring madness. I suppose that most ordinary people want to anchor because the port is for the super rich, but the "free anchoring zone" is not all that big and to make matters worse there are un marked rocks just below the surface in the middle. I was up front looking out for them and on spotting them shouted back to Chris but we still managed our first ever nudge of a rock (at less than one knot). Hard astern we backed off and found a good spot, a few minutes later on, over sand. To be on the safe side, we double-checked the depths around us by dinghying around and sounding with a shackle tied to a line. All seemed well. It would have been fine too, if it weren't for some idiotic Italians in a chartered Beneteau First 47.7. They had anchored outside the zone and, the next morning, were told to move in, and in their hurry they really clonked the rock we had nudged and then dropped the hook ridiculously close to us and went ashore! We had to stay on La Premiere just in case. Other equally crazy situations were occurring all round the anchorage but we are at the height of the season I suppose!