The surf rears high, around the base of La Veille lighthouse. One by one a stream of passage-makers skirt its feet. Bobbing and curtsying, on the swell. Making our obeisance, for safe passage through the Raz (pronounced 'Raah,' as in sun god of ancient Egypt) de Seine.
Angling inshore, past the bumble bee striped La Platte, for the flattest water.
Crossing the 'border' into sun soaked Southern Brittany. A coastline especially designed to delight sailors: (generally) slack tides, improbably craggy shorelines, and an abundance of islands and inlets.
Stargazer sailed from Camaret in a clearing drizzle and a breeze ideally suited to our purpose. Just enough force (eight to ten knots) to make progress, over the tide; without being strong enough to stir up breaking seas in the Raz.
Stargazer takes the inshore passage, between Toulinguet point and its polo-mint perforated offshore islands.
She beats down towards the Raz. Seemingly alone, crossing the Baie de Douarnanez. Until the hour of slack water, in the Raz de Seine, approaches. (This is when the seas will be at their mildest; and explains why Stargazer has chosen to sail against the tide, to reach it). Whereupon a fleet of boats materialises. All converging on the channel at the feet of La Platte.
All of us first gaining ourselves a good offing. Beating out to the Ile de Seine. Before freeing sheets, onto a easy going reach, that is like a sigh of relief.
We feel the tide go slack beneath us. Then to rocket us forward, as we swoop down, past the Pointe du Raz.
The impromptu flotilla disperses. Each of us going our separate ways. Melting back into the vastness of the ocean. As at all great tidal gates.
Stargazer has a fair tide beneath her and will have for the next five hours. With kite drawing she can make one of the Benodet Bay ports (Benodet itself, Loctudy or Concarneau) before nightfall.
Through the afternoon she reaches across the Baie d'Audierne. Gybing off the Pointe de Penmarc'h in the evening sunlight.
Closing the shores of Benodet Bay. Reaching, under white sails in sixteen knots apparent. Crossing the fishing fleet, homeward bound for Lesconil and Le Guilvinic. Ports concealed among the crags and markers lost in the inshore heat haze.
Dusk is falling as Stargazer sweeps past the Iles de Glenans. Now eight miles out from Concarneau. She is making six knots over a weak tide. Nightfall is in two hours, by my reckoning. That means we are going to be in before dark. A relief because Concarneau has a narrow and rock bound entrance.
But the sun bows out early. Thundrous clouds blot it out. Leaving only a coppery sheen, on the heaving sea, to remind us of a golden day. Night falls almost an hour earlier than I had anticipated.
Happily, in full darkness the leading line (pecked line running diagonally from bottom left to top right), into Concarneau, proves (almost) easier to follow than in daylight. By making use of the coloured sector light (circle surrounding the green post mid picture); followed by two powerful white leading lights (top end of leading line diagonal). Neither, of course, visible by day.
This stirring view, of the medieval battlements of Concarneau, welcomes me to Friday morning.
The scenic splendour, however, has one price; which is popularity. Last night the harbour was full. Thursday May twenty sixth is Ascension Day. Marked, in France, by a four day Saints Day holiday (think UK August Bank Holiday weekend). Boats have flocked here from far and wide. For half an hour Stargazer circled the pontoons, in vain, seeking a space to moor.
Until, a hailed greeting echoed across the darkened harbour. "Over here, mon ami. Come alongside us. Ici.” Stargazer rafts among a fleet of ten or more Dufour Arpeges (classics from the dawn of accessible GRP boat building). Boats cherished, and cruised, by true sea folk. Keen to hear about our passage, tell of theirs (they are off to Pont Aven, home of Gauguin, next) and to share a bottle of wine.
Photo Credits
Final picture courtesy of Dufour Yachts.
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