Ad Lib 93

 

In the shadow of the Vendee Globe hall of fame, two, very different, solo race fleets form up.

Seventy Classe Mini 6.50's (the boats' length in metres) will sail to the Azores and back. Leaving on the twenty second of July. The craft forever pushing the boundaries of nautical design. Spawning, for example, the scow bow and square top main.

The Mini Atlantique race is established as an important rung, on the career ladder of aspiring Class40 and IMOCA skippers. Such as Ambroggio Beccaria. A past winner. Before becoming the skipper to beat in the Class40 calender. Last month, he was victorious in the Vendee Arctique, aboard an IMOCA.

Further along the pontoon, an emphatically "old school" solo fleet is assembling. Bound around the world. Departure date the sixth of September. "Sail like its 1966," the race strapline. August 1966 being the date of Francis Chichester's celebrated solo circumnavigation, aboard Gypsy Moth. 

Entrants for the Golden Globe Race are required to sail traditional long keel designs, between thirty two and thirty six feet long, with no 'modern' electronic aids. Such as GPS, autopilot, AIS and radar. No internet or mobile phone connectivity, nor outside weather routing assistance of any kind, is permitted.

Skippers must sail arduous qualifying passages prior to the start. Daniel Alfredsson deciding, whilst Stargazer was sheltering in Camaret (see Ad Lib 64), to retire as a result. After facing four severe North Atlantic gales in succession, whilst on passage from Norway to Les Sables.

The svelte looking, Holman & Pye designed, Rustler 36 is a popular choice for competitors. The more so since Sablaise local, Jean-Luc Van Den Heede ('VDH'), won the 2018 event, at the spritely age of seventy three, aboard one.

Ad Lib 92

 

"A high impact event that is difficult to predict. . . . .but that in retrospect. . . .appears inevitable." Is the Encyclopedia Britannica's definition of a Black Swan occurence.

Stargazer's skipper's day has certainly had a dreamlike quality. Yesterday's early start, to catch the night breeze, exacting an unusually severe toll. I take a sleepy stroll around the lagoons, behind Port Olonna, in an attempt to clear my head. Sighting our, possibly portentous, Black Swan.

Beyond the tranquil lakes lies a supermarket sized Decathlon store. Proud to declare, at the door, its support for the 2028 Vendee Globe campaign of local lad, Benj Dutreux. Who runs the Eole yard and J-Boat dealership in nearby Bourgenay. And who raced the ex-Hugo Boss (see Ad Lib 91) in 2024.

By the time I return to the waterfront, with a fresh bag of shorts and polo shirts to salt water abuse, Stargazer's washing is ready to retrieve from the Lavarie Automatique. The operation of which is the most complex task that my fuddled brain is today capable of.

The victors, of the ten editions of the Vendee Globe Race, smile knowingly. Their ever decreasing record times proudly displayed beside their likenesses. One hundred and nine days, for Titouan Lamazou, reduced to sixty four by Charlie Dalin. Experts all, at the art of maintaining peak physical function in the face of sustained sleep deprivation.

Ad Lib 91

 

Alex Thomson's British built (Green Marine, Southampton) Hugo Boss, from the 2016 Vendee Globe, waits for the start of the 2028 race. Smartly suited and booted, in assertive carbon black, beneath the shimmering white heat of the midday sun. Now under the command of Arnaud Boissieres.

Stargazer left Ile d'Yeu in the predawn cool. Her skipper, dressed in shorts and polo shirt, watching as the flames of sunrise lick the horizon. Red turns to pink turns to orange.

Heralding the appearance of the incandescent orb itself.

Stargazer clears the southern tip of Yeu. Making better than six knots, with the help of the Vent Nocturne and a fair tide.

Orange turns to gold, upon the canvas of Stargazer's tautly bellied sails.

Then to a diamond sharp white. To match the foam flecked bow wave, Which streams aft over azure waters.

Wind and tide begin to flag by mid morning. Exhausted by an exuberant sun close to its midsummer zenith. Stargazer skirts Les Barges reefs to shorten her distance in.

Slowly we overtake the red topped land bound lighthouse.

Stargazer closes the pierheads of Les Sables d'Olonne's famous channel. Which turns into a spectator lined amphitheatre, every four years, for the Vendee Globe race.

Ad Lib 90

 

A Yeu fisherman patiently checks his net. Hauling it in, the traditional way, hand over hand. Picking out the weed but retrieving no fish. As his dory rides the swell sure-footedly beneath him.

His boat is almost identical in design to the Poole Bay Punt. Where the requirement is similar: a stable seaworthy craft of strong, simple construction, able to beach land through surf.

Overhead, a twenty first century helicopter taxi buzzes busily to and from Saint-Gilles-Croix-de-Vie, on the mainland. Ferrying time poor, financially well-to-do, carbon footprint indifferent, weekend visitors.

On the quayside, cycle traffic rises to fever pitch. All seats are filled, beneath the brightly coloured bistro sun awnings.

A trawler inspects its nets, after unloading the catch at a slipway. Putting a little something aside, for discerning face to face fresh fish aficionados.

Tonight, the northerly Vent Nocturne is forecast to blow heartily. Tapering off through the morning. Stargazer hopes to catch it in its passage-making prime, around dawn, to hitch a ride south.

Ad Lib 89

 

In Port Joinville the catch of the day is no longer the, now elusive, White Tuna.

Although a fleet of pot boats industriously seed the surrounding waters with their buoyed baskets. In search of lobster and crab for local tables. The last of the tuna fleet is ashore, serving as a quayside roundabout (green hull, top right)

Instead it is the double decker Vedettes which bring home a golden haul of holiday makers.

Who make a beeline for the bicycle hire shops, opposite the Gare Maritime, upon landing.

Before setting off, front wheels wobbling, to explore the backstreets. . . .

. . . . .and alleys, of this most informal of former fishing villages.

The cool stone austerity of its church square. . .

. . . . contrasted by the hot vibrant colour spilling from every white-walled garden.

Ad Lib 88

 

Dinghies nestle in the dunes. Before bungalows shuttered against the heat of the midday sun.

Tenders to diminuitive day-fishing boats. Moored in tidal rock pool harbours. Out of reach of the swell.

Parched grasses wave in the, thermally powered, ‘prairie wind’ of the Vendee. Which hums beneath its warm breath.

As it sculpts the scots pines. Whilst they hold sunshade parasols above the heads of terracotta topped holiday villas.

White surf thunders from an indigo sea. Mingling its song with that of the wind. Chanting an incantation of island magic.

Ad Lib 87

 

La Houle, the long low ever present Biscay ground swell shatters upon the unyielding granite foundations, upon which the Ile d'Yeu's soft beaches rest.

A coast path rises and falls through the dunes. Circling the island.

Picking its way through dense, low, prickly vegetation.

Glittering white quartz teeth cut the green canopy above the Plage du But.

To create a blazing pointer above a headland.

Where the ancient stone building civilisation has sited the cruciform Dolmen de la Planche-a-Puare.

Located prominently above the tumbling seascape. Whether for the sake of its view, or its visibility from seaward, is known only to its creators.