It is a night arrival, after all. Stargazer’s fleetness of foot, under cruising chute, means that the sun is three hours from rising, when we enter the Little Russel. Abandoning our normal corner cutting ways, to give St Martin’s Point and the harbour breakwater (both pot buoy hotspots) the widest of berths.
Storm Betty is down to a fine west sou’ westerly, by the time Stargazer sets sail.
Leaving the craggy Breton shoreline in her wake. A cautious two reefs in the main.
Soon replaced by full main and cruising chute. As Stargazer turns northeast. Placing the wind on her quarter.
Prancing across the swell. Threading the gap between the Triagoz reef and. . .. .
. . . . . the largest island in the Sept Iles archipelago. Which I call Aslan. Because it’s form and colour always remind me of a sleeping lion.
The sun sets as Stargazer barrels past Les Roches Douvres. Now three hours ahead of schedule. The lighthouse adds its rhythmic white flash, to a sky aglow with stars. Galaxies, constellations, lone stars and infinite clusters. They combine to cast a glinting sheen, over the tumbling surface of the sea, on this moonless night. As a dolphin repeatedly circles and leaps, in the pool of green light, cast by the starboard pulpit navigation light.
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