I can smell the salt air of the Mediterranean. The enormous old lighthouse from the 12th century right above the harbor where I am moored for the night was once at the sea’s edge but now is about 10 km further inland. Marc Pilar, my new Quebecois friend, went together with me and a river cruise boat through the last of the large Rhone locks. Just north of Arles we turned SW on the Petit Rhone which wanders through the Camargue, the swamp land in the Rhone delta. Just before making my turn I went through a very rough patch on the Rhone. The SE wind had piped up to over 35 knots and the chop had the boat on one of it’s wildest bronco rides, ever. But once I got into the calmer river it all eased up again. But the wind is still howling here.
I got a few good pictures of the wild horses in the swamp, but did not see any pink Flamingos. Marc helped me yesterday to correct several incorrect setting on my Nikon D-50 camera. He makes great pictures and know much more than I do about photography. He also happens to have the identical Samsung tablet and Navionics charts and was able to help me with it as well. I still have not heard back from the marina in Frontignan and begin to wonder if they actually exist. Tomorrow I will have to decide where I step the mast.
Wednesday morning: I am heading for Port de la Camargue, it looks like a good place. I have to leave here in a half hour to pass through two bridges that open at noon. So, this evening palm trees and saltwater pictures.