Well it has been a while. Perhaps you thought I’d given up after so little output last year.
But we’re back for 2017. The title and chart below give a clue.
Tomorrow, May 29th Martin, James and Gavin set off to take Filibuster across the Bay of Biscay to A Coruña in the North West corner of Spain.We leave Arzal on Tuesday morning to head approx 360nm straight across.
In an ideal world that would take two and a half days, arriving late on Thursday.
The Forecast
But it’s not an ideal world – this morning’s forecast has a mix of pleasant sailing weather and good chunks of “Force sod all, variable”. Weather routing on the nav system suggests a sailing transit time of over 4 days: that’s not going to happen as we will donk it during the calm bits.
My guess is that we will arrive sometime during Thursday night/Friday morning
The Bay of Biscay
Whenever I mention the Bay of Biscay people look sideways at me as if to suggest “must be bonkers”. Then recount stories of bad weather, uncomfortable passages and sea sickness. I’ll report back after the event but right now all I can say is that a long period of calm weather has resulted in good conditions with swell at around 1m across much of the bay for much of the journey. The picture looks a bit lumpier as we approach the end of the passage.
And once we get there
James returns home, Michele, Daphne (Gav’s wife), Sharon and John all fly out on Saturday to Santiago de Compostella and thence to Filibuster. Hopefully to enjoy some pleasant cruising in the Rias of NW Spain and sown as far as the Portuguese border.
Guests leave, Michele and I take Filibuster back to A Coruna , Alex & Zoe come out to join us at the end of June. Back home for July, back out in August to take Filibuster back to Arzal along the north coast of Spain and West coast of France.
Well that’s the plan. I’ll update when on the “other side”
In that post I mentioned it was full, always full. But this time, around 2pm on the 5th September we got our timing right and went straight into a vacant pontoon berth. As did 2 following Brit boats and a few others to boot. Brilliant we thought, this is the way to do it. And the marina filled to full. And so did the outside buoys. Ram packed one would say.
The next day any spaces vacated were immediately taped off by the Capitanerie man. A rally of some 15 boats was coming in to the already full port.
And come in they did…. No space again.
In the outer port there were as many as 5 boats attached to mooring buoys and some late visitors were turned away.
Outer port full
Inner marina full
High Season? French style.
So, it’s warm, the port is ram packed with visitors. High Season here formally ends on the 15th September.
Perhaps you would expect that port side bars and restaurants would be falling over themselves to attract custom before it all ends.
like this bar: photo taken at the same time as the others.
Bar overlooking the port. An ideal location. Early evening about 8pm. it was closed all day.
It’s something I just don’t get with the French. In some places we visit there seems to be a belief that the High Season (normally ending on 30th August) is the only part that tourism reliant shops, bars and restaurants should stay open for and cannot be bothered to work beyond it.
Other bars and restaurants around the port did open but only until 9 o’clock by which time the place was deserted and dark.
I can only contrast that with most UK and Irish ports that have life in them until late (examples like the Chain Locker in Falmouth that would be absolutely buzzing at that time)
Bike-a-groix again
Rant over – ile de groix remains beautiful and we thoroughly enjoyed cycling the Southern part of the island.
Bike track, Groix style
And so to Port Haliguen
It’s before dawn, dark. You’re asleep, dreaming of women or boats or women and boats. The drunken Frenchy having an argument with the world in the middle of the night is now long gone. Your dream morphs to women and/or boats in Ile D’Yeu as a familiar whirring sound reaching the dreaming brain informs that Kazam, the builders supply ship in Ile D’Yeu is unloading.
Brain replies “you’re not in Ile D’Yeu”. Brain rationalises “must be cos that noise is Kazam unloading, in the dark, before dawn, again”
Dream morphs to women and/or boats and Kazam in Ile de Groix. That’s not right. You wake up: Kazam has a sister ship right here in Port Tudy.
Noisy unloading just 50m away could go on all day. Decision made: – off we go to Haliguen toute suite.
I haven’t said much complimentary about Port Haliguen so far – especially noting the 1km walk to the loos – but for some reason it’s growing on us.
We had a pleasant sail down in a F4 South Easterly: as the track below shows cutting back toward the coast to get into calmer waters, about 3/4 of the route was sailed before the wind died.
The Quiberon peninsula separates the wild Cote Savauge and the sheltered bay to the East.
That night an unforecast F6 blew up from the west and disappeared in the morning. We cycled across in warm sunshine on Groix – style cycle tracks and took the video below.
And cycling and walking is perhaps the key to our newly found liking of this area. There’s plenty to occupy.
And the marina? Well the above excellent Creperie du Port was worth the visit.
And the 1km walk to the loos? Will eventually become history as the port is remodeled, distant and unpopular visitors pontoon will go in favour of spaces closer to the facilities.
What’s the weather been like?
Unlike last year at this time the weather has been largely fantastic. No real storms, lots of sunshine make the days warm and a distinct lack of serious rain make them usable.
But the lack of rain has caused an unforeseen problem :- the Villaine River in which Filibuster lives is the supply of fresh water for much of North West France has seen its levels drop.
To the extent that the lock that lets us in will be closed for 9 full days in September and restricted on others.
It’s time to head back out of the sea, a bit early, from a beautifully warm and sunny Piriac sur Mer where I write from
First of all a bit about the Golfe de Morbihan: Oft written about in the sailing mags it can be just a tad too far from the UK to fit comfortably into a 2 week holiday.
Effectively a tidal lake about 10 miles by 5 miles. Top right is the ancient and interesting city of Vannes (which can be reached by boat for a very pleasant stay)
Bottom left it is connected to the sea at it’s south west corner at Port Navalo / Port Crousty by a channel just less than half a mile wide.
And it has islands which somehow contrive to amplify the tidal streams to such a point that care is required.
Ile aux Moines in the middle. All the water to the right flows via narrow passages top, middle and bottom.
The chart shows just how fast the tidal flows can be:
thou shalt not pass…if going in the wrong direction
So this brings me to a final useful bit about tidal planning:
a) you will go with the flow or go backwards
b) the flow doesn’t change at low tide or high tide: all that water rushing in or out carries on going for a full 2 (yes two) hours after low water / high water.
it’s odd to think that the tide can still be ebbing well after low water, but that is exactly what happens!
Ile aux Moines
And with that useful bit of info let’s cover Ile aux Moines:
it’s the largest island in the Morbihan roughly 3 miles by 1.5
it now has a small marina with floating pontoons (see 2 short lines of boats in pic below)
it has a beach
it has some prehistoric stones
and is otherwise a charming little island
Floating pontoons can be seen on the left. Well serviced by free water taxi. Inadequate depth for a 2m yacht at coefficients above 90, approach close to the ferry berths
“An otherwise a charming little island”. Well it might be out of high season.
Ile aux Moines is less than 1/4 mile from the mainland and the tourist industry in this already popular region has developed what can only be described as an industrial scale ferry service to bring tourists onto the island in vast numbers.
And on arrival tourists run the guantlet of restaurant / bar/ ice cream shop /cycle hire, repeated several times before reaching the safety of the island itself.
Ambling around the narrow lanes is not for the faint hearted either: cyclists, scooterists and a modicum of vans & taxi are all occupying the same narrow lanes as you.
Huge numbers of tourists ebb and flow
So if you are considering a visit to this part of the world, then:
Arrive at the entrance 2 hours after low water and your passage will be a joy
Visit Ile aux Moines out of season if at all possible to best get that “charming little island” effect
Visit Vannes any time – it’s a must
At the time of writing, in the last week of August, blessed by fine warm weather the high season has been giving a bit of a fillip and the French are making good use of the last week before school holidays finish on the 30th.
This blog is intended only to highlight the interesting, humourous or otherwise noteworthy happenings of our travels in Filibuster.
Our the last trip of some 4 weeks was, well, average. The weather was,well, average, we didn’t hit anything, nothing hit us (apart from the mysterious yellow mark now on our life raft). All the places visited have been written about… no cars fell in the water etc…
Something Remarkable….
But before I distil that , that recent, average, trip, let me tell you about something remarkable that happened today, down here in Pembrokeshire:
Peter Mathias walked up the hill to the chalet, in between rain storms and with a smile said “hello” and:
It was my birthday yesterday
I’ve just got engaged
Can I introduce you?
WOW. Peter’s wife Anne passed away in 2013 after a battle with cancer. We had lost touch a bit.
And now a new love enters his life. Cath is a delightful lady, Irish, shares a common love of golf with Peter and enjoys travel.
Peter and Cath.
Peter holds a dear place in our life and early sailing career: we raced with and against each other, did delivery trips together, we bought our chalet from him and more recently he hosted James for a week of work experience at a real architects practice.
So, if you find yourself having got yourself in to a similar position :
alongside a pontoon
3 boats fore, 3 boat aft, no more than 2 ft either end to play with.
no wind to help you out
no bow thruster to turn the nose?
And the 3 boats aft being worth more than £1m, skippers hovering, all watching and wondering how you are going to get out without damaging their prized possessions….
We saw this in Piriac, just a few weeks earlier, when a student in a bateau ecole (training boat) got their command stuck and the teacher had to show them how to get out:
create a pivot point on the bow by taking a line from outermost cleat to the pontoon.
remove all other lines
put the boat into reverse.
The boat can’t go forward, can’t go backward, can only pivot around the one line – and it will do so to 90 degrees or more.
Slowly she does it. Slip the line and reverse out. Works on a bateau ecole, worked on Filibuster.
All watchers smile, think “neat”. A Facebook equivalent of a super like if they have one…..
How to get out of a tight spot (I’m a better sailor than an artist!)
The donk
not yet…
Frank Singleton
We bought Filibuster in 2007. Mobile internet was not there. For those of us needing up to date weather info there was one source: Frank Singleton and his collection of nascent weather info delivery services that could be acquired using the painfully slow, but all we had at the time, GPRS on mobile.
Well I’m pleased to report that Frank and his wife Jennifer came alongside us in St Martin for a few days.
Both over 80 they are a remarkable example of “continuing to use it” as they have campaigned their Halberg Rassy for many years and continue to do so.
Frank and (recently showered) Jennifer Singleton aboard their HR34 Anhinga in St Martin, Ile de Re
Demi Donk
Explained later (sorry: I’m struggling to pad this one out)
Photos from a plane
See this:
Well we’ve all taken photos from a plane. Note how clear this one is? It comes from the driver’s seat. Cap’n Laurie Stimpson flying an Easyjet Airbus south-ish to Lisbon. The island is Ile de Groix, L’Orient and Port Louis to the left. Mid picture is the Quiberon Peninsula. In the far distance would be Piriac Sur Mer, where I write from.
And finally: donk
our new found friends: John and Julia Strudwick on board their Nauticat Wyldwind. Now Nauticats are built for comfort,pleasure and not hi-performance. they come with appropriately sized engines (ie the donk) that, when sailing isn’t the right option , the donk does it.
And so into our vocabulary comes:
put some donk on it: give it some welly
demi donk day: motor until the wind pipes up
donk it: better put the engine on to avoid whatever needs donking
The next instalment
Starts August 16th. Let’s hope something more interesting happens. Let me know if you would like to join us.
Last time we spoke Filibuster was in France, and now Martin, está hablando español….
And, quel horreurs, on a boat without sails! Not even any visible means of supporting such sails.
Has Martin taken leave of his senses and gone to the dark side?
To suffer warm, private sandy beaches, full sunshine, clear waters in the Med?
In April, where back home was a)chuffin cold b)wet
Well, actually folks, you can rest assured. The boat belongs to our good friends Ian & Judy and they have introduced us to the temptations of Menorca. And what a tempting place it is:
300 days per year sunshine
excellent food and drink at very reasonable rates
beaches, coves, walks to die for
crystal clear, warm, sea (well it was a tad cool on the day highlighted, but Ian & I swam ashore)
Largely unspoilt and civilised with strong connections to the UK
Unbelievably friendly locals who cannot say a word without a smile
If you have never been to Menorca I can thoroughly recommend it.
Navigation
Ian’s nav system comprises of:
a) a Garmin GPS chart plotter with a faulty screen
b) an Apple Iphone that has the tendency to fall on the floor (clonk) at inappropriate moments
To avoid getting lost at inappropriate (clonk) moments I decided to purchase an upgrade to the system.
No batteries or screen required, doesn’t clonk when it falls on the floor. Superbly accurate with AIF (that’s a new piece of tech called Automatic Identification by Finger).
A prototype of the system was tested back in France here.
It is of course the highly reliable, patented, TTNS:
TTNS (Tea Towel Navigation System). This is an upgraded version with AIF indicating current position, compass, wind directions and instructions on what to eat (Old Menorcan cheese) and drink (Gin) in an emergency. Can also be used to cover modesty of naked sailors and sailoresses.Reversible screen. Can be used to communicate over long distances. Beat that, Apple…(clonk)
Well I’ve already written plenty about St Martin and this year it looks like the turning point of the journey again so I’ll write a bit more.
Already we are in Port Joinville, heading North. Dodging bad weather (again) so the 4 fine days Zoe was with us become a memory.
But First: And the crowd applauded
So we arrive in St Martin. A slightly longer journey via half way to St Dennis, Ile D’Oleron, re routed due to slightly tender nature of daughter’s stomach when subjected to windier than expected windy sailing.
The harbour is a bit full, but not full. The harbour master asks how long we want to stay: 1 semaine. Hmmm he goes. He wants us nicely parked and not having to move every day to let other boats out. He wants us alongside the pontoon and we want to be there as well.
He looks at the options: V1 has 3 boats rafted. V2 has 1 boat. V3 has 3 boats rafted. No other solutions. He parks us temporarily on raft V1, 4th out.
But V2 boat is leaving later and he tells them to shove off to another part of the marina, thereby creating the desired pontoon space.
Great, you might think. Except that the now ex V2 boat wasn’t that big and the space left doesn’t look Filibuster sized.
Harbour Master asks our size: 12.5m. He paces out the gap: 14 paces. “Ici – c’est bon pour vous”. Glug thinks me on the basis that his measurement device isn’t very accurate and even if it was, that leaves me with placing Filibuster sideways into a canyon, 3 boats rafted either side.
Leaving 3/4 of a pace fore and aft. Did I mention it’s windy? Have I ever mentioned we don’t have a bow thruster? And I probably don’t need to remind anyone that sailing yachts can be particularly truculent beasts when made to go sideways slowly.
We get one chance at this. It’s High Noon at the OK Chapparal. The crews on the boats lining the canyon are armed and ready. We make ready. The wind blows. Tumbleweed rolls down the fairway. The wind whistles. etc.
All eyes on us because this could go so badly wrong. We commit.
Now before I come to the outcome let me tell you about a fantastic French word called “doucement”. I learnt it in L’Aberwrach. It’s a lovely word and pertains to the art of doing things “lightly”. In L’Aberwrach it was used by a French lady against a gung ho incompetent trying to park his boat in a tight spot. He failed. Using everything his engine had he went backward and forward, crunching French lady’s boat and eventually running aground. He was not Mr Doucement.
We are committed. Filibuster is in the canyon. No way back now. With less than 2ft space either end to play with a lot of doucement is used. Forward a bit, backward a bit, let the wind take her in a bit. Repeat.
Then a line goes ashore and is made fast. We are in. Touchdown. A perfect landing: 10/10.
I really can’t remember much about it, except that at the end the crowd applauded. “Un belle manoeuvre” a new neighbour says.
Palps stop palpitating, Palms stop sweating. I take a bow. Brit Honour upheld.
The rest of the canyon filled so quickly I didn’t even get time to get a photo.
And the rest of the stay?
Was delightful.
We cycled up to the unfortunately named Ars. If someone were to ask where we were going I could have replied “the ars end of the island” and be perfectly correct.
We had a party with our new neighbours, one of whom owns his own vineyard and contributed wine from his special selection
Special Selection. See bottom right, reads limited release, bottle number is 5. mmm.
And on the final day we made Zoe eat Oysters in the afternoon, drink some fine wine and finish with Lobster Thermidor for dinner.
Zoe’s facebook compilation. A perfect day.
The lobster came from the market 200m away. He was hiding in the tank trying not to make eye contact….
Writing from Port Joinville on Ile D’Yeu, its the 30th August. To mark bank holiday Sunday the weather has put on a typical show: a F5 thundery rainstorm just rattled through.
If there were one of those holiday type signposts here it would say 70 miles South East to La Rochelle, 280 North to Salisbury and 350 North West to Lawrenny.
Port Joinville, Ile D’Yeu is the next stop South from L’Herbaudiere, One of our favourite places with its very sheltered (=quiet) marina, the fun attitude of the holidaymakers, the great bars for people watching around the the harbourside and so on.
What we didn’t know at the time of Francois is that he has a cousin on Ile D’Yeu. We’ll call him Gullible Guillame for the sake of alliterative allusion.
The harbourside in Port Joinville is a busy place, frequent ferries do what ferries do: namely disgorge then load up with holiday makers. The majority on foot for Ile D’Yeu is a place where cycling is very popular and bikes of all types can be hired around the port.
Around the ferry terminal it can get very busy, with people collecting and delivering holidaymakers. Parking is in short supply.
Guillame arrives in Jerry the Jeep
To drop off holidaymakers. No parking spaces immediately by the ferry terminal, but he sees his mate Antoine who waves him over.
Antoine tells Guilliame – don’t worry – I’ll park my car over there on the no parking zone and you can have my place here. I’m not staying long and there aren’t any no parking signs on your spot so you will be OK
Cars move. Antoine parks on the no parking zone. but then they decide to go off for a beer…or two…..
The No Parking Zone. Signs clearly visible. Under the surface. Can you guess what’s happened to Jerry the Jeep?
Yep, you guessed it.
For Sale.
And some time later. Guillame had not come back, or was too embarrassed to show himself in front of the large crowd of holidaymakers taking photos.
And Jerry the Jeep had disappeared by the following morning.
1950 UTC (the time zone the boat’s nav works on). 2050 BST. 2150 FST.
It’s dark.
A storm is brewing.
We’ve known it was coming for a few days.
The forecast had it peaking at F9 or F8.
Right now the wind is mid teens in knots. Roughly on the bow. That’s OK. The bow points to a huge wall about 70m away. To our left is the entrance to the marina, a substantial pontoon is between us the outside.
A nice view in nicer times almost a year ago is here:
View from rear of boat
Same spot
But tonight it’s not so nice.
Filibuster, contra to normal pontoon positioning now has 7 lines ashore. We’re expecting trouble.
This sort of trouble:
Orange is bad. Any wind speed beginning with 3 is not good. Things beginning with 4 are really bad.The forecast last night had something I’d never seen on this coast : beginning with a 5…..a different symbol appears because they’ve run out of toothbrushes.
Wind speed at 50kn+ is a Force 10. Officially not a Gale, nor a Strong Gale, but true sail ripping Storm.
So we’re holed up in Pornic. As I write the wind shrieks and howls around, the mooring lines creak and groan. it’s not nice out there. It’s not that nice in here either.
And it’s raining. Big time. Actually the sort of time where we feel smug that our full cockpit cover designed for Ireland and now working 100% in France, makes a lot of sense.
The storm.
It peaked a bit later than expected – stretching through a unpleasant Sunday night into a downright nasty Monday morning.
A recording of windspeed shows the accuracy of the forecast.Over this 10 minute period the wind speed was mainly in the 30kn range, often above 40kn and on 5 occasions 50kn or more.
The wind had come around to the beam – side on. the boat was heeled over against the pontoon and fenders with a nominal diameter of 30cm were squashed to 5cm thick.
The previously pleasant view became not so pleasant;
No one came in.
No one went out.
The storm blew all day.
A good day at the office?
If you have one, I’m sure it’s a nice dry place. But wouldn’t you be rather out and about in the fresh air on a Monday? Yes of course you would, who wouldn’t.
Now consider these pics of the waves breaking at the other end of the marina. There’s a test coming:
Did you spot the guys not having a good Monday? Click on the first pic: they are by the silver van and about to get what’s coming.
The weather didn’t improve much on Tuesday so we got on with all those exciting jobs that you do when stuck in port, like cleaning the cooker, cleaning the heads, writing blogs and so on 🙁
And finally – it looks like tomorrow there is a “window of opportunity” to push on to Ile D’Yeu. It’s not going to be that nice, but if we don’t take it then the next one isn’t until Friday, 2 more days hence.
PS (29 Aug)
We tried the window of opportunity. The wind blew It shut: a nice sail rapidly became a rough sail with 20+kn on the beam and rising. Boat speed 7-8kn with 2 reefs.
Exciting, but….
Prudence was heard saying “one accident and this could be dangerous” so we headed straight into L’Herbaudiere for 2 days (it rained most of the time) and we then motored all the way to Ile D’Yeu in zero wind ….you can’t win sometimes….
Back in Arzal ready for another session on Filibuster, heading down south to La Rochelle and environs.
Hotels for Liz
On our travels we occasionally come across superb hotels that, were it not for our own floating accommodation, we might well stay at.
I’ve started a collection on the new Hotels for Liz page. Feel free to contribute further ideas that have a maritime connection.
Liz, to whom the page is dedicated, is not a boaty type and has asked me to comment on the en suite facilities to be found on Filibuster, in the hope of confirming a hotel bedroom will always be superior.
shower, looking forward
Here we go:
For a 40ft boat Filibuster is quite generous in the space allocated to most functions. Only sleeping 6 with single heads means there is more space for everything (compared to say a 40ft boat with 8 berths and 2 heads).
The heads consist of a generous shower area, hot & cold of course with thermostatic mixer. Measuring 4ft x 2ft 3″ door access at one end and shower curtain at the other. Nothing wrong there: I’ve certainly used smaller shower cubicles ashore.
In colder times, warm air can pumped in using the central heating system.
The heads themselves: 4ft x 3ft 4″ consisting of basin with mixer tap and the loo. Same curtain as in the shower area and another door rearward to the master cabin.
For landlubbers a word of explanation about the curious world of marine loos is in order.
They are a bit different to hotel loos.
The “deposit” part remains the same. Except when heeled over at 30 degrees under sail in a lumpy sea..
For males in particular it can be a game of true target practice: you are moving (in all 3 dimensions) …. likewise your target is moving, not always at the same rate, the challenge is to hit the centre. No wonder, contra to RNLI advice, so many men prefer to pee over the side. Downwind of course.
Flushing
Unlike landside loos, boats do not have cisterns of fresh water to flush – but they do have a lot of water outside.
Loo: note control knob and pump
Business finished, this is the procedure:
open seawater seacock
turn the loo control knob to “extract”
pump the hand pump vigorously until extraction complete
turn the loo control knob to “fill”
repeat pumping, until loo fills with water
repeat the extract process
turn off the seawater seacock
On Filibuster all that pumping ends up in the “holding tank”. I need describe it no more. Opening its outlet valve at sea results in a distinctive & satisfying “whoosh” that confirms the process is complete.
Easy peasy. Wouldn’t put anyone off, would it?
And finally….
Perhaps you are thinking of buying a boat? Perhaps you wonder why we ended up with Filibuster, a Bavaria Ocean 40?
This pic of the master cabin might help. It certainly helped to convince Michele.
Master Cabin. Full size double bed with easy access both sides. Complemented by 2 wardrobes, shelving cupboard, 2 side seats and 4 storage lockers. Access via 2 doors. Ventilated via 3 large portholes and 1 hatch. Comfy.
Amazonas Sauzonas. Capitanerie Girl showing how meet and greet and park is done. The following evening doing the same job in a dress!.
Oyez! Oyez!. All you creek crawlers, bilge keelers, flat bottomers and lifting keelers. Welcome to Sauzon, Belle-Ile, for this is your heaven.
This is the place that perfectly exonerates your decision to acquire a boat that “can take the ground”.
Along the astonishingly pretty quayside of Sauzon is a huge, sheltered, drying harbour, complete with moorings to assist your arrival, which of course you do when there is water in the harbour.
Fin keelers (like Filibuster) whose decision to visit Sauzon is always a gamble on how much swell you can tolerate. Swell whilst mooring to a buoy in the anchorage outside the harbour (lumpy) or swell whilst mooring fore-and-aft in the outer, non drying harbour (also lumpy).
Happily, nay smugly , the “take the grounders” chug past all the fin keelers. Smiling inwardly, smiling visibly, smirking, going onward to a nirvana where no fin keeler can stay.
Filibuster, bobbing about in splendid isolation. We remained so despite the fact that the other moorings had no less than 3 boats each by the end of the day (something to do with size: the capitanerie people like to keep similar sized boats together, and with Filibuster bang on the maximum allowed length, no one else of our size came in to join) . That night the wind turned to the North making the outer harbour uncomfortable and it emptied quickly the following morning
View looking into the harbour at low tide, showing smug bilge keelers happily parked.
The ground in the drying harbour is mainly hard sand, so if you can get off your boat it’s easy to walk ashore.
The hundred year old man who climbed out of the window and disappeared
Have you read the book? It’s very funny. Essentially a long shaggy dog story. But there’s a bit missing, entitled “and so to Sauzon” I include it here.
And so to Sauzon.
Henri, the hundred year old man, found himself on the West Coast of France. He’d heard that Sauzon was a nice place and that sailing a yacht was a nice thing to do.
So he decided to borrow a yacht. He’d never been sailing before but reckoned it can’t be that difficult as you can just switch the engine on and go. So he did, and off to Sauzon he went on a pleasant summer’s day.
On arrival he was pleased to see that Sauzon was indeed a beautiful place and happy he’d made the decision to visit. He had only one problem to settle and that was how to stop and stay.
Observing a nice big British yacht already moored in the harbour, Henri asked the skipper “puis je fair a couple avec vous” (which is not a request to get over familiar with someone, but just to come alongside).
Martin, the skipper of the nice big British yacht says “mais bien sur, fair un turn (because he was facing the wrong way round ) en retour ici”.
Hundred year old man goes round and starts to come alongside. Martin notices he has no fenders prepared. Or lines to attach with. Typical French. Martin “advises” him, “ou et votre lignes et defensoirs”. Henri points to a locker as if to say “obviously in here, you stupid Brit, where else?”.
He’s passing. He realises that lines are the key to stopping and staying. He gets a line out of the locker and passes one end to martin. And the other end. And the middle. All of it, not attached to anything.
Incroyable.
“What do you expect me to do with this?” dit Martin en Francais. Henri looks at me genially as if to say “you’re the expert – you tell me”. I throw it back, all of it.
So I tell him, in French, kindly “attach your lines and fenders first, then come alongside”. Blank look returned.
Is it my French that’s the problem? (could be: my inner French man quite often says things that my inner English man doesn’t understand). Perhaps Henri got the last missive as “put out your washing line and install your fence before coming to my place”
I recruit the next nearest boat to translate from English to French for Henri. Blank Henri look again. A discussion in French ensues. The centime drops. A little wave of a Henri hand acknowledges in a “righty ho” sort of way.
Henri, being a hundred years old, doesn’t do anything really quickly. He slips, nay slides or possibly slopes into the task now in his mind.
He chugs off for another turn. Connects an end of the ligne to his boat. Forgets about the fenders. Comes alongside. One line attached and he’s stopped.
At this point the Capitanerie boat gets involved and takes control: gives Henri a parking place alongside a similar sized boat . Henri now remembers fenders and starts to attach whilst we hang on to Henri’s boat.
Capitanerie man moves Henri. Zut go the new neighbours. Phew go we.
He doesn’t have a dinghy so sits on deck reading and then goes to bed. He left early that morning and for all we know is still out and about.
PS
And as I write this in Port Haliguen a smart Beneteau 45’ comes alongside the other side of our pontoon. Fully crewed by Henri-relatives and driven by an incompetent Henri-alike who commands with an air of authority-without-experience. No lignes, no defensoirs on a boat probably worth £100k. Much snarling and gashing of engine. Backwards, forwards, over the Irish sea sort of thing, nearly over the boat in front, Michele goes to help. They throw a line, in the water. Eyes look to heaven. Etc….
PPS above mentioned boat has 13 people aboard. Several generations of family, not all happy about being on granddad’s boat together. Noisy, at least whilst awake and then an absolute calm descends on this quiet, flat corner of the marina.
PPPS Rather shyly they aplogisied for the enthusiasm of their gang on holiday. Apology graciously accepted, but it was still nice when they went to bed….
And so back to Sauzon
I’ve digressed and dithered a bit, and I’m sure you want to know a bit about Sauzon.
Some observations:
It’s on Belle-Ile. A popular holiday island for French rich and/or famous and it shows, especially in Sauzon.
It’s very pretty
The quayside is closed to traffic Friday and Saturday evenings, making promenading, people watching and checking out the many restaurants a pleasure
It has resident quayside bands – we pitched up at a bar and listen to “The Golden Jakes” Jazz Band. Niiice.
The Golden Jakes play on the quayside. Note what’s floating the boats
More or less the same viewpoint the following day. Note abscence of floaty boats
It’s a must visit place. We did a couple of years ago by scooter and a few days later by car…
If you feel daring and just want to stay long enough for an meal, springs tides will float your boat in the inner drying harbour for long enough to enjoy a peaceful evening meal or lunch if the tides are neapish.
