Hide and Seek

 

The tall masts, of a square rigged brig, dominate the skyline of St Malo's historic waterfront.

Sail training ship of the Polish navy, Fryderyk Chopin, has run in for shelter from storm Francis. 

So too has the French navy schooner Belle Poule. A faithful replica of a cod fishing goelette. Like those that plied Icelandic waters, in winter, from Paimpol.

Together they are moored beneath the city's battlements. Belle Poule exuberently dressed overall, signal flags cracking in the breeze. Fryderyk Chopin, yards squared and sails flemished, just so. Crew at work, painting the steel deck. 

When she arrived, last night, Polish sailors manned those long yards. One stood on the outer end of each. A taut ship.

The wind shrieks. A rain squall clears the quayside and sends me running for cover. From my shelter I watch as a cargo ship squeezes into the lock.

Her crew nonchalantly observe the delicate manoeuvre from the deck. Gloves on, ready to secure her hawsers.

An intrepid, aluminium hulled, Ovni squeezes into the lock with the ship. There is little room for error.

The squall leaves as rapidly as it arrived. A shaft of sunlight illuminates the cathedral spire.

The jet stream is to the south of us. Spinning stormy lows up the English Channel, in a king sized game of skimming stones. The unsettled weather patterns of the autumn equinox have arrived. Stargazer will have to play a game of her own, on our journey home. Hide and seek. Sail when we can. Take shelter, and enjoy our new surroundings, when we can't.