The piractical Breton Lugger breaks cover, from a labyrinth of rock fangs. Bearing down on Stargazer, purposefully. With the weather gauge. It is as well that she carries no cannon. Only a smiling, smock wearing, sailing party. Out from L'Aber Wrac'h, for the day.
Stargazer left Roscoff, at local slack water. Romping north, with eighteen knots of north easterly breeze in her sails.
To round the Ile de Batz.
Where we ease sheets. Settling down to, what should be, a six hour sail west.
But, with the degree of tidal and wind assistance on offer, turns into a four hour frolic.
With Ile Vierge abeam, Stargazer comes up onto a reach. Thundering down toward the Libenter buoy. At the head of the L'Aber Wrac'h channel. Where the privateer springs its surprise.
Stargazer hardens up, onto the wind. Which gusts and shifts, funneled by granite cliffs, topped by verdant green foliage. One long board carries her deep inland.
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