It’s her name that first catches my eye. Crisp white
letters spell out “Living the Dream” on her dove grey transom. The red gold and
black of her German ensign flutters above.
Her home port is Hamburg. From the look of her, she’s a 1970’s design,
maybe a Van de Stadt, about nine metres, and lovingly maintained. On the stern, alongside her name and port, is
a self-steering wind vane. Clothing for one flutters, drying in the breeze, on
the lifelines. It’s an evocative picture. It speaks of a single handed wanderer
of the sea, a long way from home, in a cherished boat, living his dream – “his”
because the clothes on the rail look as if they belong to a man. Here’s a fellow
traveller.
Almost four
months, a third of a year, has flown by since Stargazer left Poole, bound for
Dartmouth and points south. We sailed on the first of May. We left in spring,
as a gale abated, with the summer, and the prospect of new landfalls, ahead of
us. Now the gales of the autumn equinox roll in off the Atlantic. We ride out
the first in Loctudy and, now the second, here in Brest. Between gales the
mornings are chill, misty and heavy with dew; autumn mornings.
I set out on a
summer quest to discover what lies beyond the “fortnight cruise;” seeking to
experience what it is to cruise, unconstrained, under sail.
I begin to see more; to see, rather than to merely look and
move on. To be still in mind and body, to notice birds and fish in the anchorages,
to admire the changing textures of the water; to drink in the chameleon, sun painted, colours of the cliffs .
It’s more difficult be still in a new port town. I tend
to get swept up in the excitement of what’s happening around me; the new sights
and sounds. In a port I feed off the energy of its activity. All is fresh, so I
notice more. I see everyday things and register them – simply because, on the
day of arrival, they aren’t everyday things to me. The filters are off for eyes and
mind. “There’s more going on than meets the eye” the saying goes. More of what’s
going on meets my eye - it’s one of the pleasures of cruising.
Wherever I’ve cruised this summer I’ve met with
friendliness and help. Fellow sailors take Stargazer’s lines when we come
alongside. Quayside bystanders are patient with my “Franglais” and help me to
find my way; go out of their way to suggest sights to see.
I first meet Peter when I berth alongside Anadina in
Camaret. We compare passage plans for the Raz and meet in ports, off and on,
all the way to the Morbihan; Peter always ready with thoughts for interesting, out
of the way, stopovers.
I meet Pierre
through this blog. We rendezvous in Pornichet. Pierre pulls strings to get me a
finger berth. We spend the afternoon aboard Stargazer; Pierre thrilling me with
his tales of a single handed passage to Scilly, in his immaculate English.
In Ile d’Yeu I
meet the HROA (Hallberg Rassy Owners
Association) at large: Chris and Judy on Fire Dragon, Graham and Anne on Dione,
Trevor and Pat on Roseabella and Keith and Gina on Aspen. Trevor finds me a
berth. All share their South Brittany cruising wisdom over drinks aboard Dione
and Fire Dragon.
Anchored in Port Kerel on Belle Ile; I hear a knock on the
hull, go up top to investigate and find Martyn alongside. He invites me over to
meet Hilary and Sir Francis the drake aboard Styria. Sir Francis turns out to
be a decoy duck towed off Styria’s port quarter. Hilary and Martyn turn out to
be fellow lovers of craggy Atlantic anchorages. We text each other as we cruise
on, meet up to explore the Vilaine together and again for a beach walk in
Loctudy.
The Sailing itself has been a delight; the freedom to get
up in the morning, sniff the breeze, check the tide and simply go. Stargazer has an
ability to make the best of the day, whatever the conditions. Be they a white
knuckle ride south through the Teignouse passage - waves breaking all around
us; tacking through fields of grazing cattle on the Vilaine - grass hoppers
chirping in the background; out sailing a First 30 off La Rochelle in a flukey F3; a beat from
Noirmoutier, across the Loire estuary , in a F6 thunderstorm - then riding
the tide into the Morbihan and on up the Auray river; a sun spangled reach over
jewelled seas from Lorient to Loctudy – the cruising chute bellied before us
like a day long, orange, sunrise ; or a beat north round Penmarc'h, in a summery jolie brise (F4)- with playful dolphins for company.
The homebound leg of our cruise; the 250 miles from Brest
to Poole is, is a part of the dream still to be lived. Our route will be shaped
by the wind and the tide.
