Martha Ann

Ever since the Cannes boat show emerged, blinking, from regional anonymity onto the international stage, September has seen me carving circles in the calm blue waters of the Baie de la Napoule. Over the years I have seen the place from the decks of dozens of motor yachts and sportsboats. On a brief sea trial you don’t take too much note of the scenery, generally being too busy with sound meters and fuel-flow readings – at the same time keeping an eye out for low-flying photographers, steering clear of other test crews, and trying not to upset the fishermen – but you do get a feel for the place. And the bay is perfect for such shenanigans. It is both wide and deep, a good four miles across, sheltered by the Iles de Lerins, and free of obstructions.

Last time I was there, however, it felt as if some seismic disturbance had altered the topography. There was the Pointe de la Croisette, exactly where it was supposed to be, and across on the other side loomed the Pointe de l’Aiguille. Yet as we rounded the islands I was reminded of a time years ago, after crossing from the Isle of Man, when I turned in past the hulked shipwreck that served as a marina breakwater in Carlingford Lough, only to come to the vaguely unsettling conclusion that our 36-footer was a couple of sizes too big. And now the Baie de la Napoule seemed to have shrunk.

Luckily, it wasn’t my problem. I remarked cheerily to the captain that the place seemed uncomfortably small. “Everywhere seems like that to me now,” he replied with a wry smile. From our elevated vantage point in the wheelhouse, there was no doubt about it – apart from maybe the Ile Sainte Marguerite, we were the biggest thing in the bay.