The eclusier (lock keeper) gestures urgently, that we should come alongside immediately. I secure Stargazer to the least rough section of the quay, with his help.
The reason, for the haste, soon becomes clear.
As the island's supply ship enters port. Proceeding to swing. Where Stargazer had been circling, moments before.
The coaster nimbly pirouettes, a full one hundred and eighty degrees, in little more than her own length.
Before reversing into the lock.
It is an inch perfect manoeuvre.
With moored boats to clear, in the Bassin a Flot.
Stargazer is glad, to be safely tucked into her alcove, outside the gates.
Beneath the soaring walls, of Vauban's star shaped citadel. Awaiting a berth allocation, in the Bassin de la Saline.
We had left Piriac with a light, but building, breeze and a fair tide.
Beating out past the tip of Hoedic. Making three to four knots. But in no great hurry. For there will not be water, at the lock, until late afternoon.
A sea breeze pipes up, with the tall granite cliffs of Belle Ile, on the horizon.
Stargazer closes the craggy coast, of bays and beaches. Bounding along, at six knots. As if eager to be in.
The outer harbour, of Le Palais, is a cheerful melee of ferries, vedettes and visiting yachts. Forty and fifty footers jockey. Seeking to raft on the visitor buoys. Stargazer slips by. The eclusier's RIB roars up:
"Salines?"
"Oui, s'il vous plait."
We glide into the (drying) Port d'Echouage, in the heart of town. To await our call, into the lock.
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