En France 87

 

An iridescent scimitar of shimmering light soars from the waves, to carve a circle of luminescent cyan, in the grey mantle of cloud. 

The sea boils, in a wind whipped confusion. Goaded by the two day gale.

In a day it will calm, for the breeze has eased to twenty five knots. But by tomorrow only light zephyrs will be left. Stargazer sails, from Fecamp, at first light.

Punching out over the swell, hard on the wind. Seeking flatter, deeper water by gaining a two mile offing.

Stargazer eases sheets, onto a fine reach. Feeling the eastbound tide start to make beneath her.

Skimming across the waves, light as a feather. Making eight knots over the ground.

To starboard, the shadow shrouded cliffs. Their sheer white faces streaked with ochre and brown. Topped with vivid green. A restless furrowed sea writhing at their feet.

The thunder, of wind and wave, combine into one full-throated roar. Stargazer flies, free as a bird.

The bright IPTS (International Port Traffic Signals) are visible two miles out, its lights set to green. I ease Stargazer onto a dead run, furling the jib, and make for them. Ferry gliding across the sweeping tide. Adjusting Stargazer's heading one mile off, when eyes and plotter confirm that the set, which I can see, (there are two) are at the breakwater root. Not at its tip. We drop the main in the calm of Dieppe's inner harbour.

Soizic (Freeborn in the Breton tongue), our friends from Brest and sundry ports between, has ridden out the last blow here. On passage home to Dunkerque. Welcoming Stargazer by taking our lines.