Everyone wants to tie up in Saint-Tropez. I understand why, and I have done it, but most summers I cross the bay and berth in Sainte-Maxime instead, then look at the millionaires' row across the water while paying a more sober bill. The two towns sit on opposite shores of the same gulf, about three nautical miles apart, and the difference in how they treat a visiting cruiser is the difference between a circus and a normal seaside town.
Sainte-Maxime is on the north shore of the Gulf of Saint-Tropez, facing south-west towards the famous harbour. It is a proper Provencal resort town with a long sand beach, a daily covered market, and a harbour that does not make you feel like an interloper for arriving in a 35-foot sloop rather than a 50-metre motor yacht. That, for me, is the whole pitch.
The harbour
The port at Sainte-Maxime holds around 375 berths. It is a public-private mix, well sheltered behind its mole, and it keeps space for visitors though the transient allocation is modest, so this is not a marina to chance unbooked on a Saturday in August. Call the capitainerie on VHF channel 9 as you approach and they will tell you whether there is room and where to go.
Depth inside ranges from about 1 metre on the inner berths to as much as 8 metres in the deeper parts of the basin, so there is plenty of water for a normal cruiser provided you are allocated sensibly. As everywhere on this coast, there is no tide to speak of, which means no gate, no rush and no nervous arithmetic about whether you will float on the way out. Tell the office your draught and beam and let them place you.
Berthing is Mediterranean style, stern-to or bow-to on a lazy line. If you have arrived from a tidal cruising background and the technique is new, it pays to have practised before you reverse into a tight finger with a beam wind pushing you off. My step-by-step on med mooring with lazy lines covers the failure modes, and the Sainte-Maxime basin can get a surprising slop in a southerly that makes the manoeuvre livelier than the flat water suggests.
What it costs against the alternative
Sainte-Maxime is not a budget harbour. Nowhere in this gulf is, in July and August. But it consistently undercuts the Saint-Tropez old port, sometimes substantially, for an equivalent boat on an equivalent night, and you are a 15-minute boat-shuttle ride from the action if you want it. The seasonal swing is steep, with shoulder-month rates a fraction of the August peak, which is the single best argument for cruising this coast in June or September.
I keep a running mental map of where the gulf fleeces visitors and where it is merely expensive, and I have set it all out in my guide to cote-azur marina fees. Sainte-Maxime lands in the reasonable-for-the-Riviera column, which on this stretch of coast is a compliment.
The town earns its keep
This is where Sainte-Maxime beats most of its rivals. Step off the pontoon and you are in a real town, not a marina car park. The covered market runs most mornings and is a serious provisioning stop: vegetables, a fishmonger, cheese, charcuterie, the lot. There is a long sandy beach a short walk from the quay, which matters enormously if you are cruising with children who have had enough of the boat. The seafront promenade has the usual run of cafes and glaciers, and prices ashore are noticeably gentler than across the water.
For a crew that has been at anchor for a few days, Sainte-Maxime is an ideal restock and recover stop. Fill the water tanks, do a proper market shop, let everyone swim off the beach, then either stay the night or slip out to anchor.
Across the bay and beyond
The obvious day trip is the three-mile hop to saint-tropez by sea, which is by far the best way to see that harbour: you arrive by water, look at the yachts, walk the old town and the market, and leave again without paying a Saint-Tropez berthing fee or fighting the road traffic that strangles the peninsula in summer.
Stay on the north shore and you reach port grimaud marina, the lagoon village a couple of miles west of Sainte-Maxime, which is worth a visit even if you only motor through the canals for an hour. The two harbours make a natural pair on this shore, and either is a good fallback if the other is full.
If you are planning the wider route, my french riviera sailing guide explains how the Saint-Tropez gulf connects west to the red rock of the Esterel and east towards Cannes and the Lerins islands. Sainte-Maxime makes a sensible hub for exploring the gulf before you push on along the coast.
Weather to respect
The gulf is open to the south and east, and a strong onshore wind from that quarter can send a swell rolling straight into the bay and against the Sainte-Maxime mole. It is not a hazard for a moored boat, but it makes for an uncomfortable night and a tricky departure. The bigger regional threat is the mistral, the cold north-westerly that funnels down off the Rhone valley; it loses some force by the time it reaches this far east, but it can still kick up a short steep sea across the gulf and make the open-water crossing to Saint-Tropez bouncy. Check the afternoon forecast before any passage, because the Mediterranean gives far less warning than the Atlantic and the flat morning that tempts you out can turn nasty by teatime.
A working stop
Here is how a Sainte-Maxime stop usually goes for us. We arrive mid-afternoon off the open gulf, call on channel 9 from a mile out, and get a berth on a visitor finger behind the mole. Lines and fenders go on both sides before we turn in, because a southerly slop can be running even when the wind looks light. We reverse in, take the lazy line, and the boat is secure inside ten minutes. Then it is the market for the next two days' food, the beach for the children, water tanks topped up, and a quiet dinner ashore at a price that does not make me wince. In the morning we either stay for the beach or slip across to Saint-Tropez for a few hours and come back. The rhythm of using Sainte-Maxime as the comfortable base and dipping into the famous harbour on day trips is, to my mind, the best way to do this gulf.
Practical notes
A couple of things worth knowing. The visitor berths fill earliest at weekends in July and August, when half of Provence seems to descend on the gulf, so a midweek arrival is far easier. The fuel berth and the chandlery in town cover the basics, but for any serious work you are better heading to one of the bigger marinas along the coast. And if the wind is forecast to go into the south or east overnight, ask for a berth deep in the basin rather than near the entrance, where the swell makes itself felt. The town also runs a regular boat shuttle to Saint-Tropez in season, which is the easy way across if you would rather leave your own boat tied up than navigate the busy gulf twice in a day.
My verdict
Saint-Tropez is the name on the map, but Sainte-Maxime is the harbour I actually use. It is cheaper, calmer, has a beach and a market on the doorstep, and puts the famous shore three miles away across the water where you can visit it on your own terms. For a cruising family or a couple who would rather spend their money on dinner than on a berth, the north shore of this gulf is the smarter choice, and Sainte-Maxime is the pick of it.
