Tuesday, 21 June 2016

The perfect sail



Melanie and I escaped the rain and jumped on a ferry to Guernsey on Saturday morning. It was a 3 hour trip on the fast ferry with little woody in his travel box on the car deck. Once back on the boat we planned to sail over to the nearby island of Herm in the afternoon for a lobster dinner and head to the north coast of Brittany the following day. However, with sailing, flexibility is always the key! It was a beautiful blue sky day with a lovely northerly breeze, just perfect for a trip to France. The forecast for Sunday had deteriorated to a rainy day with the wind shifting to the south; it would be a hard sail into the wind and rain.
It would be a bit of a rush and a long evening but something of a no brainer – off to France we would go!

Two hours after arriving in Guernsey we were fuelled, watered, victualled and off on the 50 mile voyage to France– croissant in the morning!

We were doing a cracking 6 knots occasionally pushing up to 7 (its amazing how excited we sailors can get about touching a speed marginally slower than I can run!) Wind, sunshine and a pleasant sea – marvellous!

Having missed our lobster dinner Melanie had stocked up on some wonderful goodies for our tea as we sliced through the water towards France. The brie, pate, strawberries and cherries tasting even better when eaten at an angle of 20 degrees!







As the sun dropped low onto the western horizon a spectacular full moon rose in the east, the moon path glittering on the water as the sky darkened.


















 There are few more exhilarating feelings than listening to the sound of the hull swooshing through the water watching night settle over the sea as the sails push you towards your destination.



An inky blackness settled over the water disturbed only by the odd wave broken either by the wind or the passing of Moondances' hull. 

By 9 o'clock the crew were below on standby!












The only life was a few gannets resting on the water, disturbed by our headlong rush towards them and looking very spooky as they flew off into the night lit up only by the light of the moon.

The first lights of France appeared at about 11 o'clock, the blinking of the lighthouses warning sailors of the approach of this treacherous rock strewn coast. Much of the danger has gone nowadays as we know exactly where we are, a little boat marching over a screen showing a highly accurate map; a far cry from the guessing game of years gone by.

By midnight I was approaching the first of many green and red winking lights marking the way into the Treguier river. As I rounded the second channel marker I was startled by a sudden 'phwooosh'; I looked forward just in time to see the beautiful dark shape of a very large dolphin as it arched gracefully into my bow wave. Unable to see where the dolphin had gone it startled me several more times as it popped up again and again out of the water over the next half hour.

Gliding silently up the channel I was flanked by miriad darkened shapes looking for all the world like anchored ghost ships; these were the ragged rocky edges of this coastline rising 20 or 30' straight out of the water that make it so treacherous; there were of course just as many rocks that did not quite make it out of the water but sat just under the surface ready to rip the belly out of any unsuspecting ship that strayed off course.
By 1 o'clock we were safely inside the mouth of the river and found a quiet spot to drop the anchor and turn in for the night.






After a late breakfast on Sunday morning we motored the last few miles up river to the ancient town of Treguier. Leaving the boat in the local marina we set off on our bikes to explore; before you could say Scooby-Doo Woody had morphed from sea dog to bike dog! He seemed to enjoy sitting in the basket on the back of the bike with his ears blowing in the wind.












We were soon on the opposite side of the Treguier peninsular and looking out to see at the red granite rocks that had formed my ghost ships the night before.











Having left the bikes to take Woody for a walk Melanie stopped for a touch of yoga!







This coast is known locally as 'Le Cote d'Amor' (without the 'u' as in love), something perhaps to do with flying deer?

On Monday it rained, and rained and rained - a good day to get the boat sorted out.

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