Zen Again 149

 Stargazer's cruising chute fills with a satisfying crack. The gurgle, of her bow wave, turns to a chuckle as we pick up speed. The rising sun, and the day, are before us. The breeze on our starboard quarter.

Saint Vaast's Hougues, and the flurry of small angling boats, which sped out through the gates as soon as they opened,  soon fall astern.

As we leave the lee of the land, the breeze builds encouragingly.

Ships, waiting for orders, lie at anchor, out in the Baie de la Seine. Visual pointers, signalling the run of the tide. Favourable, for the while, with a southerly cross set.

Stargazer follows the rhumb line. Her skipper poling the chute, wing on wing, as the breeze veers due west. Dead astern.

The marine 'zone de manutention' (construction site) exclusion area, off Courseulles, causes a minor detour. Something substatial has been in build there for several years. Perhaps a wind farm.

Stargazer still runs wing and wing, but under white sails now. And on the opposite tack. The kite handed, for ease of manoeuvrability. 

With the breeze dead astern, the slightest variation in wind angle, caused by a passing cloud for example, requires a gybe. Progress slows. Both through the water, the breeze falling light, and over the ground, the full force of a spring tide presently against us.

The afternoon ferry, out of Caen, rumbles across our bow. Well clear. Trawlers courteously keep their distance. Stargazer makes her easting, at a sedate three and a bit knots. A tranquil afternoon glides by.

By sundown the tide is turning in our favour. The merchantmen, at anchor of the mouth of the Seine, swing in unison. As if swivelling their necks to admire Stargazer as she passes.

The wind returns, from the north. Giving Stargazer a faster point of sailing, more power and a fair tide. Her skipper prepares lines and fenders, to reduce deck work after nightfall. Whilst Stargazer romps toward the Le Havre channel.

We bolt across, in a darkness pierced by occulting reds and greens, like a rabbit traversing a motorway. Stargazer finding a gap between a squadron of incoming tugs, returned from escorting a large container ship out, and an emerging liner. Seen as constant reds, whites and greens, their aspects swiftly altering. Pilot boats flit, at full pelt. One circles inquisitively, strobes pulsating, a searchlight probing. Poised, I suspect, to 'shepherd' us out of the way, should we show signs of impeding shipping movements. We slip gratefully into the stillness, of the port de plaisance, beneath the cathedral spire.