If you want the postcard Provence without the bareknuckle pilotage of Brittany, the Var coast is hard to beat. The water is warm, the anchorages are sheltered, and the distances are short enough that you can sail in the morning and swim by lunch. The catch is that everyone else has worked this out too, and in August the good spots fill by mid-morning. I have run this var coast cruise three times now, the last with my wife and two teenagers aboard a chartered 42-footer, and it remains my favourite easy week in the Med.
Below is the route we settled on: Toulon to Saint-Tropez, taking in the Hyeres islands, with the gulf of Saint-Tropez as the finale. It is roughly 50 nautical miles end to end, which sounds like nothing and is exactly why it works for a family.
Starting from Toulon
Toulon is a big naval town and the Petite Rade is busy with warships, ferries and pilot boats, so keep clear of the marked military zones and listen on VHF. The visitor pontoons are central and you can walk to the Provencal market on Cours Lafayette, which is the best provisioning stop on the whole coast. Stock up here, because prices climb steeply once you reach Saint-Tropez.
Before you slip the lines, get your head around the mistral. This dry northerly can arrive within hours, flat clear sky and all, and turn a glassy bay into a washing machine. I never plan a Var leg without reading the mistral and tramontane med winds first, and I treat any forecast gust over 30 knots as a reason to stay put.
Toulon to the Hyeres islands
The first proper leg runs east towards the Iles d'Hyeres, the three islands that make this coast. Porquerolles is the largest and the obvious target, around 20 nautical miles from Toulon depending on your route round Cap Sicie. The big bay of the Plage d'Argent on the north side is a classic anchorage, sand over weed, good holding in 4 to 6 metres if you find a clear patch.
That weed matters. Posidonia seagrass is protected, and anchoring on it is now restricted in many Var and Riviera bays. Before you drop the hook anywhere on this coast, it is worth understanding the posidonia anchoring ban in France, because the fines are real and the eco-moorings are often the only legal option close inshore.
Port-Cros, the middle island, is a national park where the rules are stricter still. You can pick up a mooring buoy in the authorised zones but you cannot anchor freely, and there is no provisioning to speak of. The walking and snorkelling are the best on the coast. The third island, the Ile du Levant, is largely a naval firing range and a naturist colony, so most of it is off limits.
Across to Le Lavandou and the open coast
From the islands the route turns north-east along the mainland shore: Le Lavandou, Cavalaire, and the run round Cap Camarat into the gulf of Saint-Tropez. This is the most exposed part of the trip, open to the south-east, and it is where a sea gets up fastest if the wind backs. Cap Camarat to Cap Lardier is a headland worth treating with respect in any swell.
Cavalaire makes a sensible overnight stop if you want to break the leg. Its marina is large, modern and far cheaper than anything inside the gulf, and the long beach is good for a family swim.
Into the gulf of Saint-Tropez
Rounding Cap Camarat, the gulf opens up and the famous bay of Pampelonne stretches away to starboard, the beach of legend backed by its beach clubs. You can anchor off it in settled weather, but it is rolly in any onshore breeze and the holding is patchy. We preferred the quieter northern shore towards Sainte-Maxime for a peaceful night.
Saint-Tropez itself is the prize and the problem. The old port is tiny, the waiting list for a summer berth is brutal, and you will pay for the privilege. A modest 12-metre boat can expect a high-season night around 80 to 120 euros, and superyacht rates run into the thousands. To understand why the numbers are what they are, the piece on cote d'azur marina fees is sobering reading. If you cannot get in, the lagoon village of Port-Grimaud across the gulf is a charming and far calmer alternative, and you can dinghy or water-taxi across to see the town.
Anchoring, mooring or marina?
The honest answer on the Var coast is a mix. The marinas inside the gulf are expensive and oversubscribed in season, so we used them sparingly: one or two nights for showers, laundry and a restaurant dinner, and the rest at anchor or on eco-buoys around the islands. If you want a steer on the trade-offs, the comparison of anchoring versus a marina in France lays out the real costs rather than the brochure ones.
A few hard-won pointers:
- Arrive at island anchorages by late morning. By 1pm the good sand is taken and you are left fighting the weed.
- Carry a snorkel mask and check your set before you trust it. Half the dragging incidents I have seen here were anchors sat on Posidonia, not sand.
- The afternoon thermal breeze fills in from the south-east most summer days, 10 to 15 knots, perfect for an afternoon sail back towards shelter.
Getting the hang of stern-to berthing
If you have only ever sailed tidal waters, the Med way of berthing will be new. There are very few finger pontoons here. Instead you back the boat in stern-to, pick up a lazy line from the bow that runs to a ground chain, and make fast your stern lines to the quay. It looks chaotic from the pontoon and feels worse from the helm the first time, but it is straightforward once you have done it twice. The walkthrough on med mooring with lazy lines covers the choreography step by step, and I would read it before you arrive rather than improvise in a packed harbour with an audience.
A couple of things make it far easier: have your lines and a boat hook ready before you turn in, brief whoever is on the bow so they know to grab the lazy line and walk it forward fast, and do not be shy about asking the marinero to take a stern line. They handle dozens of arrivals a day and would much rather help than watch you bounce off the neighbour.
How long to allow
There is a temptation, especially on a charter, to treat the week as a checklist and tick off ports. Resist it. The Var rewards the boat that stays put for an extra night when a bay is perfect and the forecast is kind. Some of our best afternoons were unplanned: a long lunch at anchor that turned into a swim that turned into staying for sunset, because there was nowhere we had to be. The islands in particular deserve more than a single night, and a day with the engine off, the dinghy in the water and a walk ashore is worth three days of port-hopping.
You can rush Toulon to Saint-Tropez in three days. Do not. Seven days lets you give the islands two nights, sit out a mistral if one comes, and still reach the gulf relaxed. We averaged under 20 nautical miles a day and were never bored, because the swimming, the walks and the long lunches are the point.
For the bigger picture of how this stretch fits into a longer Riviera trip, the romantic cruise cote dazur covers the glamorous eastern end towards Monaco, and the cote d'azur charter itinerary for one week shows how to extend the loop. The Var, though, is where I would send anyone sailing the French Med for the first time. It is forgiving, it is beautiful, and it asks only that you keep one eye on the mistral and the other on the seagrass beneath your keel.
