Green Bananas

The sea fog hangs cold and dense over our anchorage, until deep into the day. We postpone our planned dawn departure. There will be daylight enough to sail on the evening tide - if the visibility improves.

By mid morning a wan sun, pale and weary from fighting its way through the opaque blanket of mist, lights Le Guerzit bay.

By midday it has regained its full August strength. The tor, which guards the entrance to the bay, stands bold and clear - with something of the Easter Island Moai about it.

We set sail, hugging in close under the Pointe de Primel to admire the view.

Stargazer lopes along, over a long groundswell, on the broadest of reaches. The waves on her quarter. With the wind light, the boom crashes from side to side as we roll. I drop the main, to allow the cruising chute to fill completely. The crashing stops. The chute bellies, swaying gently with the roll. In tune with the rhythm of the sea. Stargazer steadies. Wind and tide waft us gently along the coast in the evening sun.

Although Trebeurden is an old haunt, I had forgotten the arresting beauty of its approaches - which affords me the delight of discovering it, as if for the first time. 

I keep an eye on the depth gauge, as Stargazer makes her final run in toward the harbour. The rock channel is well marked, but dries to stand two metres above low water. There is always that lingering frisson of doubt with tidal calculations. 

In Trebeurden the archetypal 'pleine saison' Saturday evening is well underway. A hum of conversation rises from pontoons spread with deckchairs and tables. A birthday celebration is underway. Quiet evening meals are being taken in sun drenched cockpits. Blissfully smiling faces, are universally aligned to the setting sun. Drinking in its last golden rays. Drinking in the ambiance of a Breton summer.

Our week of beach life has left Stargazer's fridge and water tanks bare. This (Sunday) morning I have set matters right. The prize discovery of my food shop? Green bananas, to ripen aboard. A rarity in France. Generally they seem to be sold already deep yellow and lightly freckled. Already past the point at which I enjoy eating them. 

Time too for a ramble along the trails of the Ile Milliau. The bulwark behind which the port shelters from the elements. Sculpted by millennia of wind and wave action. 

A true port of the Cote de Granit Rose. Nearby lies its high palace: Ploumanac'h. A natural rock bowl, accessed through a chink in the cliffs. The craggiest and pinkest of them all - complete with Hans Christian Anderson castle. Only accessible for an overnight stay, to Stargazer, when the low water depth is three metres or greater.

Tomorrow's is the first such tide of this lunar cycle. Stargazer lies provisioned and ready.