La Hirondelle 36

 

Eleven years on, from our first encounter, the jazz duo still have their park bench pitch, on the Vannes quayside. The guitarist's trademark Frank Zappa t-shirts may be gone; but their melodies remain the same. Swooping and swirling, like a flock of summer swallows, ever changing direction. Moving as one.

Stargazer had set sail at the changing of the guard. A pale, almost full moon, standing sentry. As the red orb, of the sun, rises from behind the scots pines.

To become the golden apple, of Wandering Aengus.

We tuck in reefs as we go. Scything out of La Trinite, on a broad reach, under full sail. Taking the first reef as we come up onto a reach, the wind freed of the land's lee. The second as we harden up onto a beat. As the rising sun burnishes Stargazer's sails to bronze. 

Bound for the Golfe de Morbihan. The French inland sea. Jewelled with islands. Riddled with reefs. Swept by cross currents. Of celebrated beauty.

Out of an eagerness to lay the entrance, (where the tide runs at eight knots), in one tack, I have over stood the channel. Crabbing in, from upwind. None of the landmarks anticipated, either from my memory or the chart before me, are in view.

I reluctantly give some ground, downwind. Back in the channel, the Port Navalo lighthouse reveals itself.  The tide swiftly seizes Stargazer and swirls us past, turbulently. Making ten knots over the ground. Sideways, set down toward Gregan rock, when on port tack. Four nerve jangling boards and we are through.

Skimming the southern tips of Ile Longue, Gavrinis, Ile Berder. As the tide pulls and pushes at the keel. Tugging our course ten degrees from side to side. Setting north, onto the islands.

The inner reaches open before Stargazer. Here the currents run hard, but in a more linear manner. Generally following the deeper water.

Space increases.

There is time to take in the sylvan wonder, of our surroundings. Whilst drinking a pot of coffee and enjoying a, jam and baguette, second breakfast.

Stone built jetties jut, from luxuriantly wooded shores. Sheltering angling boats and tenders.

No crag, it seems, is too small to support the mason's art. Or to offer up thanks, for a safe deliverance.

Stargazer is reaching east, in sixteen knots true. Past the village of Arradon, on the northern shore of the Golfe.

Before striking inland, into the heart of Vannes. Last visited over a decade ago. Those warm memories vividly rekindled.