In France, as in the UK, a bank holiday adds a day to this weekend. With another to follow next weekend. A canny week in which to invest a working person's precious holiday allowance, in messing about in boats.
A trip to the coast beckons, for city dwellers.
Boats are in from Dieppe, Fecamp and Ouistreham. As well as a passage maker from Finland. They quickly fill the newly reassembled finger berths. No wonder the marina work crew had set about their task with such a will.
And it is as well that they did. For, in the small hours of the morning, an English race fleet ghosted in on faint zephyrs. After an eighteen hour passage from Cowes. The first boats home occupied the few remaining fingers.
The following pack, found what space they could around the port. Whether they were venerable varnished head turners. . . . .
. . . . Or the the latest wave skimming flying machines. Their futuristic form dictated by function.
Crews busily tend to their charges, in the mid morning sun. Having tumbled below, on arrival. Sails lightly lashed, mooring lines all ahoo. Sleep their priority.
Tomorrow's forecast is for the breeze to fill in, from the west. A headwind. But the Baie de la Seine is broad (for tacking) and a fair tide should be our friend, for much of the day. As Stargazer seeks to flip the face, of the French coin, from its architecturally most modern to its most traditional.
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