Dandelion 85

 

The dying embers of the day glow bright, upon the tortured cliffs of Toulinguet. Carved by wave. Contorted by continental drift. Coloured by the earth's fiery heat.

Stargazer's day began in monochrome. With light rain, a heavy swell and a promising, passage-making, breeze.

We beat out toward Penmarc'h. Single reefed, nineteen knots over the deck. Spray cascading aft. Stargazer's bow rising and falling rhythmically. Axing her way to an offing.

By mid morning, the swell is still building. And I am begining to wonder what heights it might reach, in the notorious Raz de Sein, on a day such as this.

But, once Stargazer has worn the tip of the Pointe de Penmarc'h, and is sailing under blue skies, the Atlantic rollers seem to loose their menace.

  

Stargazer strides across the Baie d'Audierne, throughout the afternoon.

By early evening, the Pointe du Raz is under her lee.

Benjamin Dutreux sweeps by. His IMOCA, last sighted in Les Sables, now races south. On the last of the ebb. (Directly up-sun of Stargazer. Apologies for odd colour balance!)

Stargazer eases into the Raz de Sein, feeling the current slow her. For we are sailing north, against the last two hours of south-going tide. Following our discovery, on the way down, that this is possible, at neaps, with a reasonable breeze. And keen to make port before nightfall.

The offshore reef chain, crowned by the Ile de Sein (visible behind Benjamin Dutreux), seems to take the sting out of the remaining swell. Giving Stargazer a smooth passage, through this infamous mile of water.

The tide turns fair, off Les Tas de Pois. With Stargazer reaching, at better than six knots, across a cobalt sea.

Her skipper watching the coastal kaleidoscope roll by. As a mellifluous evening sun dips toward the horizon.

Stargazer holds her port bow steady on Le Lion.

For we mean to save some distance, by shooting the Toulinguet Gap. Between the the off lying crag and the Pointe du Toulinguet.

Safely through, Stargazer celebrates by easing sheets. Racing on. Broad reaching with the gurgling tide, of the Goulet de Brest, beneath her.

Stargazer slips into Brest's Le Chateau marina, as daylight fades. Securing alongside a tightly packed visitors pontoon. Half an hour later (that time spent in vigorous debate with a posse of night watchmen), Stargazer sets off. Into the darkness. The Le Chateau marina is closed, for a Regatta. No exceptions entertained.

Good fortune provides a thinning of the clouds. Through which sufficient moonlight filters, for Stargazer to sound her way to the head of the Moulin Blanc channel. Where, at midnight, I tumble thankfully into my bunk.  

I awake to sylvan scenes, at the mouth of the Elorn river. Having discovered a spot frequented by locals and those 'in the know.' To judge by the hospitable conversations initiated, by open-hearted cruising folk, as I breakfast in Stargazer's cockpit.