Ad Lib 56

 

Before Stargazer's skipper can sample the scenic delights of his surroundings, certain formalities must be observed.

A short stroll away, at the ferry terminal. Where the EES (Schengen Entry & Exit System) awaits. Subject of lurid scare stories, concerning airport delays, missed boardings and gridlock in the streets of Dover. It takes a full sixty seconds to scan my passport, snap my photograph and sample my fingerprints. Roscoff has seemingly perfected the new system's operation.

The sun symbolically disperses a thin veil of cloud. I am free to wander France. My footsteps, naturally lead to the Vieux Port. There to purchase my first 'Tradition' of the season. (Baguette de Tradition Francais - legally mandated to be wholly made on the premises. Using only flour, salt, water, plus [optionally and rarely] yeast). Along with a small wheel of ripe Camembert, and some plump full flavoured tomatoes, with which to fill it.

Over lunch, I study the Meteo Consult weather outlook. Sailing conditions will soon resume. With cooperative tide times to support them. The latter critical off this rugged corner of Finistere.

 Stargazer will need to move swiftly, once the breeze returns on Saturday. Making a passage to L'Aber Wrac'h, before it turns westerly (a headwind Roscoff to L'Aber Wrac'h) on Sunday. Pit stopping overnight. Before pressing on to Camaret. There to ride out a hard, three or four day, south westerly blow. Under the lee of the Crozon peninsula. With shelter for Stargazer and shoreside diversions for her skipper. We shall call this Plan A.

Ad Lib 55

 

By dawn, Stargazer and her skipper are back amid the craggy granite of Breizh (Brittany). Where they belong. The sun's first rays striking the Triagoz reef tower, up to starboard..

To port, Les Sept Iles are shrouded in a smokey veil of morning mist. Stargazer slips through the channel between the two. Glad of full daylight for the manoeuvre.

The Vente Nocturne has served us well. Greeting Stargazer, and a fellow traveller, off the southern shore of Guernsey yesterday evening.

Gently ushering us into a sunset. . . . .

. . . .of burnished, beaten copper.

An almost full moon is with us through the night. Silhouetting dolphins as they bound along its silver path, beside Stargazer. Accompanied by soft breathy exhalations and playful splashes. Overhead, stars swirl, in their infinite profusion.

Until extinguished by a brightening, from beneath the horizon.

The sun is preparing to rise once more. Gilding Stargazer's sails with its rays.

Climbing steadily into the sky. Overwhelming the Vente Nocturne with its thermal power.

Stargazer steals into Roscoff. Borne on the last faltering breaths, of the night breeze.

Ad Lib 54

 Slowly, slowly, a breeze begins to build. By midday, it is sufficient  to send a French frigate skimming across. . . .

. . . .the St Peter Port paddling pond. Usually the preserve of pre-school Optimist sailors practicing their skills.

The forecast's prediction, of a passage-making easterly, by evening, had strained credulity in the early morning stillness. With Stargazer's shade awnings hanging motionless.

Hopes rise with the first zephyrs. Stargazer crosses the cill, into the outer harbour, as soon as there is the depth to do so. On the promise of a thermal ‘Vent Nocturne.’ To carry us to the Breizh (Breton) shore, overnight.

Ad Lib 53

 

Rippling roars reverberate around the cliffs of St Peter Port.

Le Val des Terres is closed to traffic, for a Bank Holiday Hill Climb up its steep switchbacks.

 The scent of tyre smoke and high octane fuel mingles in the still air.

Hot metal shimmers in the heat.

Final fettling is completed, in whatever shade can be engineered. 

No detail is overlooked.

Competitors while away the morning. Awaiting their summons to the start line. Eyes seldom straying from the Leader Board.

A cool head proves to be the key. . . .

. . . .to posting a winning time.

Ad Lib 52

 

The only way is up. An ascent into immaculately azure heavens.

Past the exiled Victor Hugo's island hideaway, Hauteville House. Its green front door forever shrouded in mystical shadow.

The south facing study providing the views which nourished his hungry soul.

On, up foot-worn stone steps.

Bright foliage, spills over garden walls, to light the way.

St Peter Port's architecture is eclectic spiced with exotic.

From the sun and moon wind vane. .  . .

. . . . atop the ‘minaret,’ which crowns St James Church spire. . . . .

. . . to the foresquare turrets of the Elizabeth College. With their hare eared finials. 

Ad Lib 51

 

St Peter Port steadily fills, at the start of a sizzling Late Spring Bank Holiday.

A shimmering heat haze blurs the beaches of Herm, beyond the Brehon tower. Catspaws of sea breeze softly pad, toward Guernsey, across a lightly ruffled Little Russel.

Motorboats make the most of the ideal (for them) conditions. Comfortably outnumbering arrivals under sail.

Caroline, last alongside Stargazer in Sovereign Harbour (see Ad Lib 9), puts in a surprise appearance.

Disembarking a troop of uniformed, mobile phone toting, 'deckhands.' Whom it transpires are engineers. On board to sea trial a new engine. Installed, during the week, in the venerable Vancouver 28. 

Caroline, Stargazer and a Golden Hind, named Fiddlers Green, are in agreement. With surroundings as sublime as these, and the prevailing light airs, the only sensible course of action is to enjoy our Whit Bank Holiday in situ.

Whilst preparing to take advantage of passage making easterlies, expected on Monday or Tuesday. The tides, by then, suiting an overnight passage to the Breizh (Breton) shore. If Stargazer is to benefit from a daylight landfall.

Ad Lib 50

 St Peter Port’s Castle exudes the air of an immutable counterpoint, to the swirl of motion around its firmly rooted feet. Yet, appearances are deceptive:

Castle Cornet has been a fortress since the Thirteenth Century. First built as a British fallback position, after King John lost possession of Normandy. Subsequently, it was held by French forces, during the Hundred Years War. 

Henry VIII reinforced its walls during the Sixteenth Century. Following the European discovery of gunpowder (then known to the Chinese for seven hundred years) which ushered in the age of artillery.

The cannon, of the fortress, were turned on its builders, augmented by freshly added machine gun emplacements, during the WWII Nazi occupation. 

Before the Liberation of Guernsey, on May the ninth 1945. When the changeling citadel's role reverted to protection of the island’s people.

An occasion since marked annually, by joyful street celebrations.