Dandelion 95

 

The Heavenly Twins, Mahi Mahi, able to take the ground, lies against the quayside in the Vieux Port.

Watching the hidden granite molars, of the harbour, emerge and recede. As the tide breathes metronomically, in and out.

The British flagged barge yacht, Snark, is still afloat. Moored to the inner mole. But she too will dry, on her flat steel bottom. Lee boards and rudder blade are raised, in readiness

The hospitality of the Rocoff waterfront before her.

The breeze, which flutters Snark's ensign, blows from the north east. A headwind for Stargazer. But a fast spinnaker reach for the racers, bound for L'Aberwrac'h tomorrow. Who can afford to relax a little, at the prospect of a downhill run.

Whilst the raft, of starters, continues to grow around them.

Late comers shoehorn themselves in. With a smile.

Whilst a bevy of all conquering (in their day) Pogo3 Minis ( just twenty one feet long, but built to race across the Atlantic) have taken up residence on Stargazer's southern, 'small boat,' pontoon. Spending the day swapping, from their 'delivery sails,' to their crisp and crackling 'race sails.'

For those not fortunate enough, to have secured alongside berths, stores must be portaged aboard. Across a floating bridge, of decks.