Eight people, two dogs, one Lagoon 42
At the end of September 2025 we set off from Olbia on a Lagoon 42: three families, two dogs, eight humans total. Yes, that’s a tight fit on 42 feet. But it actually works surprisingly well if everyone gets along – and if there’s enough alcohol on board.
This trip was a big one for us: it was the first time our dog Bubbles came along. Beforehand we were honestly a bit stressed. Will she even come on board willingly? Will we always find a beach for pee breaks? Will she get seasick? What happens if it’s choppy at anchor? All of that turned out to be completely unnecessary worry. Bubbles handled it all with total calm, like she’d been a boat dog her whole life. Huge relief for us. And one more item checked off the long-distance cruising list: dog seaworthy? Yes.
Olbia – and the smell of adventure (and cat pee)
It all started on Saturday with provisioning and boat handover in the marina in Olbia. Small, tidy, friendly. The Lagoon 42 was in solid technical condition: systems working, sails fine, engines clean. Only one problem: the salon smelled like cat pee.
Comment from the charter company guy:
“Oh, we have cats in the marina. One must have peed inside the boat.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Honestly, that’s a no-go. You don’t hand over a charter boat in that state. But the weather was good, spirits were good, and both dogs clearly wanted to leave the dock. So we opened all the hatches, ignored the smell as best we could, and cast off Sunday morning toward our first stop.
Cala Portese – first swim stop, first dog pee ashore
First leg: Cala Portese off Caprera. Plan: drop the hook. Reality: tried anchoring twice, not happy either time. In the end we grabbed the last available mooring ball.
Cala Portese is perfect if you’re sailing with a dog: small beach, clear water, super easy to land with the dinghy for a quick walk. Exactly what you want on your first evening out.
Further through the La Maddalena Archipelago
On Monday we slipped the buoy in Cala Portese and headed off for a swim stop in Strammanari – quick jump in, reset the brain, and then onward toward Lavezzi. Second target of the day: Cala di Giunco on Île Lavezzi.
That’s where we anchored for the night: about 20 meters of chain in 4.5 meters depth – which, honestly, was a bit on the light side for our taste. It held fine as long as the weather stayed calm and as long as everyone around us had a similar amount of chain out. Apparently our neighbours (very friendly long-term cruisers from France on a Nautitech) had put out quite a bit more chain than we had, and they weren’t 100% thrilled that we were that close. Which we get. But there wasn’t really another good option for us in that moment. We took them a bottle of white wine as a peace offering, which smoothed things out nicely. What started as a slightly tense situation turned into a very kind conversation. And of course we kept an eye on the spacing overnight in case we had to react.
Lavezzi is something else. Bare rocks, turquoise pools, rounded granite boulders, water like glass. It’s an island you should absolutely explore on foot. There’s a small beach where you can land with the dinghy early in the morning or in the evening, as long as the tour boats haven’t arrived yet. During the day it gets busy.
Important: that one white mooring ball in the middle of the bay is not “free for all”. It’s reserved for excursion boats. Our neighbours picked it up anyway. Five minutes later the park rangers appeared out of nowhere and told them to move. No idea where they materialised from, but they were definitely watching.
By around 10 in the morning the peace is over. A big tour boat shows up, music starts, PA announcements begin, and RIBs start shuttling tourists to the beach in batches. For us, that was the signal: time to go.
Bonifacio – beautiful, expensive, loud, impressive
On Tuesday we headed to Bonifacio. Luckily we’d booked a berth via Navily ahead of time. As soon as we reached the harbour entrance it was clear how necessary that was: boats circling and waiting, VHF nonstop, general mild chaos.
Stress moment number one: we called the harbour on the radio, no answer.
Stress moment number two: we drifted around for half an hour in the queue, hoping the wind wouldn’t pick up. Apparently that’s just how it is there.
Eventually a marinero waved us in and guided us to the berth. Mooring inside that narrow fjord-style harbour in Bonifacio leaves an impression. And so does the town.
Bonifacio is spectacular. The old citadel sits up on white cliffs above the water. Narrow lanes, restaurants, views across toward Sardinia. It’s absolutely worth a stop. But: 200 euros for one night with a 42-foot Lagoon at the end of September is… confident.
Evening plan: walk the town, dinner, dogs get their city stroll through the old streets. Final verdict: Bonifacio is a must-see. Bonifacio also happily empties your wallet.
Heading back before the storm
By Wednesday it was obvious there was weather building. So we left Bonifacio early and headed straight back toward Sardinia. Target: Golfo Aranci.
That was our longest leg of the week, around 40 nautical miles. At least half of it we could actually sail, and the rest warps you through some of the best scenery of the La Maddalena archipelago: granite rocks, sandy coves, and that unreal turquoise water the northeast coast of Sardinia and the Costa Smeralda is famous for.
Golfo Aranci is less glossy than Porto Cervo and the “look at my sunglasses” parts of Costa Smeralda. It used to be a fishing village and is now a laid-back harbour town with a promenade, cafés, beaches and clear water. Much calmer, much more down to earth. Exactly what we wanted with a forecast picking up.
We were happy for every mile we got done before the wind built.
Riding out the storm in Golfo Aranci
Choosing Golfo Aranci and not “just one more cute anchorage for sunset” turned out to be the smartest call of the week. Overnight we saw gusts up to 35 knots. Being tied up to a dock instead of lying at anchor was pure peace of mind.
On Thursday all the boats stayed in port, because outside there was still a lot of wind – and more importantly, short, confused chop around two metres. Everyone stayed. Except one.
A Swiss skipper decided to head out with his family anyway. Local skippers actually tried to talk him out of it. One even crossed himself as the Swiss boat left. To be fair, some Italians cross themselves for pretty much anything, but still. In the end every skipper makes their own call. Adrenaline is a lifestyle.
We stayed. No regrets.
Friday: one last outing – and that’s enough
Friday morning the crew still wanted “just a little day sail”. Fair enough. So we headed out again. Outside it was still messy: short, steep, annoying little one-metre waves. After 15 minutes, first crew member went pale. We turned around.
Totally predictable. But honestly, a good lesson: the sea decides, not you.
On the way back toward Marina di Olbia, we got one last comedy moment from the charter company. About 15 minutes before arrival they sent us a WhatsApp asking us to please send photos of the genoa and the mainsail for checkout. Would’ve been nice to know earlier.
So: head up into the wind, roll out all the canvas in leftover chop, hang on with one hand, take pictures with the other, roll everything back in, carry on to the marina. Last year that manoeuvre would have had us at heart rate 180. This year? Fine. We can feel it: we’re calmer, more coordinated, not so easily stressed anymore.
Back in the box
Back into the berth. Lines on. All fingers still attached. No bruises. No gear broken. Another trip without drama.
Nobody went overboard, no dog overboard, no bimini ripped off. The only heavy consumption on this charter: Vomex against seasickness. We went through a heroic amount of that.
Lessons learned
- Sardinia, the La Maddalena archipelago and the southern tip of Corsica are ridiculous. Coves, rock formations, water colour – hard to beat.
- Sailing with a dog is absolutely doable. Especially in Italy. Italians are obsessed with dogs. We got stopped multiple times because people wanted photos of Bubbles. A Bearded Collie basically triggers instant emotional meltdown.
- The ferry crossing with a dog was zero problem. We booked a pet-friendly cabin and were allowed on several decks with the dog. Genuinely a positive experience. Very relaxed. Sarah liked the cabin. Roger did not.
- In France the dog energy is… different. Walking through Bonifacio, a French guy to his partner, about our dog: “regarde ce gros chien.” Thank you for your feedback, monsieur.
- Eight people on a 42-foot Lagoon works. But honestly, 45 feet would have been more comfortable. Especially with two dogs on board, wet towels everywhere, someone trying to cook while someone else is rummaging for the last cold Coke.
- And: Golfo Aranci is an excellent bolt-hole. Calmer than the flashy parts of Costa Smeralda, but still with shelter, mooring, restaurants and beaches in walking distance.
- Bubbles is officially seaworthy. That might be the most important outcome of the entire trip.