Dandelion 23

 

Saint Martin's Point (on the south eastern tip of Guernsey), falls astern. A red sky at dawning, proving portentous (shepherds' warning). For this is to be a day of surprises, for Stargazer. 

Stargazer picks up way, in a gentle southerly breeze. The sun warming her skipper, in the cockpit, as it climbs quickly higher in the sky. Causing the wind to become uncertain. Shifting east, before dying.

Today Stargazer has much distance to cover, and tidal gates to catch. We cannot afford to wait, the hour or two, which it will take, for the breeze to settle into a daytime rhythm. I start the engine and furl the jib. Or try to. But the furler is jammed. I know how to fix it. But the (battened) jib will have to come down first.

Normal service is resumed, in time for the promised arrival of the west wind. Which holds rather more south in it, than we might care for. Stargazer settles down to beat her way southwest. Favouring the starboard, gaining, tack. Decks awash with spindrift. Her skipper's spectacles requiring an hourly rinse, to maintain adequate vision.

A playful pod, of bottlenose dolphins, streak out to greet Stargazer, off Roches Douvres. Together they cavort. Leaping joyously from wave crest to wave crest, as the seas build. Wind heaping up tide.

The dolphins leave. Replaced by a full hearted sun. Stargazer hard on the wind, striding across a seascape of cobalt blue and effervescent white. Two reefs in the main, full jib. Twenty four to twenty six knots over the deck.

The mainsail leech (trailing edge) is drumming, like a fishing boat's, full throttle, diesel engine. Fluttering madly. Which it should not. Both because the sight and sound are unseemly; and, more importantly, because leech flutter breaks down sailcloth very rapidly. However, the leech line (a 'drawstring' which controls leech tension) snapped when I tucked in the second reef.

The roar of wind and sea; the showering cascades of spray; the sheer jubilation, of such a day at sea, aboard a craft so completely in her element; quickly retake my focus.

Stargazer romps past Les Sept Iles and on toward the Triagoz reefs. The last of the fair tide falling fickle beneath us, as we enter Morlaix Bay. For our, earlier, sail handling shenanigans have slowed progress.

The wind shifts fully west. To my surprise. Leaving us downwind and downtide, sixteen miles out of Roscoff. Where we are compelled to make landfall. In order to book back into France, at the Gare Maritime. (Pre Brexit we would simply have put the helm down, for Trebeurden. Five easy miles to leeward. And very scenic). 

Stargazer arrives, in Roscoff, shortly before midnight. Successfully securing to, what, in the darkness I take to be the Visitor pontoon: But, in the light of morning, transpires to be the next one along. A full southerly gale now blowing. Stargazer has made it in, before the heavy weather. Her skipper has some sail repairs to organise.