La Hirondelle 104

 

A moist maritime airstream, from the south and west, gives Stargazer a fair breeze, to round the Pointe de Barfleur. Twenty miles east of Cherbourg. But that is expected to change from Saturday. With the forecast arrival of a week, or more, of easterlies.

Stargazer plans to catch tomorrow’s east going tide, and the last of the west wind. Making for St Vaast La Hougue (orange anchor symbol). From there Stargazer should be able to find a favourable slant, once the wind veers. With a leg south east into the Baie de La Seine. Followed by another, north east toward Fecamp or Dieppe.

La Hirondelle 103

 

 At times Stargazer is barely stemming the tide. Despite hugging as close as we dare, to the reef fringed shore, to stay in the slowest moving water. The breeze rolls in fitfully. Out of breath, after it’s forced march across the summits of Guernsey.

It may be neaps, but in the Little Russel channel, particularly at its narrow northern end, the tide runs hard. The choke point is off the, toppled, Roustel Tower. Which loiters long, on Stargazer’s starboard beam. A foaming white bow wave to its north, a slick wake to the south.

Finally, Stargazer breaks free. Her sails fill with clear air, at the top of the island. Where we pick up an east going tidal eddy. Our bows point toward the southern shore of Alderney. Where I know the north east going tide, through the Raz Blanchard (Alderney Race), to turn an hour earlier, than in the race proper.

A veil of mizzle swirls in, from the English Channel, to cloak the tall cliffs of Alderney. The French shore vanishes from sight. As Stargazer picks up the favourable current. Making seven knots over the ground, on a dead run. Jib furled.

Two nautical miles north of Alderney, we gybe east. Stargazer rides the full force of the tide. Reaching fast, under all plain sail. Sweeping past the Cap de La Hague, making twelve knots over the ground. Staying wide, to clear the overfalls (after previous drubbings) and out of respect for the restricted visibility. 

The breeze is up. In part accelerated by the force, of the forward motion, lent to us by the sluicing tide. The north going flow, out of the Race, and the east going Channel current, bump and jostle argumentatively.

Stargazer romps east. Her tidal gamble (of starting with a foul tide in the Little Russel and seeking out the eddy south of Alderney) has paid off handsomely. Giving us an earlier departure and a speedier run in, from La Hague (than the standard pilot book recommendation). And we are enjoying a fine spanking sail, to boot.

Stargazer sweeps through the Cherbourg breakwater, well before dusk. Sailing to the marina entrance, throwing out fenders, as we skim across the smooth waters, of the outer harbour. A Swedish crew, dining in their cockpit, abandon their suppers awhile, to take Stargazer’s lines.

La Hirondelle 102

 

The scream, of high revving, finely tuned engines, and the squeals, of scrabbling tyre rubber, turns heads on the Val des Terres.

The boulevard at the head of Havelet Bay. Closed, to everyday traffic, for Guernsey’s Bank Holiday motor sport meet.

Cars, and bikes, roll toward the starting line. In single file. Before blasting up a steep and winding hillside lane. To set their best time, to the summit.

It is a convivial family affair. With banter aplenty.

Drivers chat, or sit in silent contemplation, awaiting their turn.

Whilst the marshals send the cars on their way. Wheeling each, precisely, onto the grid marks.

Stargazer, meanwhile, crosses the cill, once there is water. Ready to catch tomorrow’s tide. Soizic has left. Electing to motor through the Alderney Race today, in exchange for a daylight arrival in Cherbourg. For tomorrow’s tide times mean an arrival after dark. Albeit with the forecast of a fair breeze.

La Hirondelle 101

 

Two familiar sights greet my eyes, as I open Stargazer’s washboards, to welcome the new day. Those of The Albion House Tavern, with the Town Church peering over its, freshly scrubbed, lime washed, shoulder; and of Soizic.

With her distinctive white dove silhouetted on the bow. Companion of a gale bound fortnight, in Brest, at exactly this time last year. We have both decided to ensure that our returns, from a summer in Biscay, are a more leisurely affair this year. By starting for home (Soizic’s is Dunkerque) rather earlier.

We each hold the other responsible, for a morning downpour and the wind veering (unexpectedly) northerly overnight. A headwind for the Raz Blanchard. Deciding that Tuesday is likely to be the better day, for our onward passages. The breeze now forecast to remain northerly on Monday, before going west to northwest on Tuesday and dwindling, to light airs, by Wednesday.

La Hirondelle 100

 

In the thronged outer harbour, beyond the St Peter Port cill, close quarters manoeuvring is the order of the day. With fenders at the ready.

Bank Holiday arrivals are rafted three deep. Due to the timing of high water, at around two pm and two am. The latter being an antisocial hour at which to move berths. The situation is compounded by the fact that it is neaps. Which gives less than the usual two hours, either side of the top of the tide, in which to cross the cill.

Craft on passage, with tides to catch tomorrow, are therefore predominantly electing to remain outside. Due to the fact that there will not be sufficient depth, to leave the inner harbour, at the optimum departure times to head either north or south.

This leaves Stargazer in a delightfully deserted inner harbour. But facing the same dilemma. To resolve it, we shall need to cross the cill mid afternoon on Sunday. To be ready for a Monday midday departure. I am hoping that the crowds thin, as the holiday weekend progresses. To release an outer harbour berth for us.

La Hirondelle 99

 

I wake five minutes before my alarm sounds, fully refreshed. My body clock finally reset after Stargazer’s overnight passage, the rigours of the heads replacement and hatch repairs, the consequent operation mop up, and the eventual reassembly of cabinetry removed for access.

I lounge in Stargazer’s cockpit. Eating a long leisurely breakfast. Watching the harbour come to life around me. Simply because I can.

 Brought out of my delightful reverie only by the departure of my two Rassy 34 neighbours. Although the arrival of an immaculately renovated, forty year old, Swedish Hallberg-Rassy 38 maintains the pontoon’s claim to the title of ‘Rassy row.’

After five days in port, I am usually ready to leave. Or have already done so. But instead, I find that I have that special ‘just arrived’ feeling. Which leads me to take the coast path south. Winding through woodland, clinging to the cliff side. It leads through a variety of battlements and fortifications, augmented through the ages. From their ramparts, raised above the tree line, there are views to Herm, Jethou and Sark, beyond a cruise liner, at anchor in the Little Russel. To the north, Alderney is sharply silhouetted on the horizon. An unusual sight, lending credence to a forecasts of a stormy night. Improbable though they seem in the afternoon sun.

La Hirondelle 98

 

Guernsey’s self governing bailiwick status grants it freedom to levy taxes as it sees fit, for example waiving VAT; and to make its own law. It will however observe the British Summer Bank Holiday, this coming weekend. The sun has therefore been dimmed, by means of some light rain showers, in keeping with the immutable law of British Bank Holidays. These have served to test Shane’s forehatch rebuild, of yesterday. The drip tray, happily, remaining dry.

Stargazer is in, what has been christened, ‘Rassy row.’ Three Hallberg-Rassy’s, one Swedish, one French and one Brit, arranged in age order. Stargazer, the youngest, at thirteen years, to the left. A twenty year old  HR34 in the centre. With a thirty year old, earlier design of, HR34 to the right. Stargazer, although an HR310, is actually the same length on the waterline, and of similar internal volume to the newer of the 34’s. Possibly more spacious internally than the, lower, leaner, thirty year old. Reflecting how yacht design has evolved, over the past three decades. (If the picture looks familiar, I used it yesterday. But did not explain its significance).

After a morning spent comparing boats, and tales of their sailing exploits, I set off inland. To walk away a certain stiffness of limb, brought on by yesterday’s bailing and bilge-contortions. Clambering up the time worn stone staircases, which ascend the hillside above the port.

Making for the silhouettes, which define the St Peter Port skyline. To arrive at the turreted Victoria Tower, as a patch of blue sky allows the sun to smile down upon the small park, in which it is sited.

Before ranks of grey cloud march in swiftly, to restore the Bank Holiday order, as I descend, past the golden finial atop St James’ church.

La Hirondelle 97

A heads (marine toilet) horror story unfolds, aboard Stargazer.

Amid the scenic splendour of St Peter Port.

The sorry story begins six years ago. When the same company of marine engineers (no longer trading), who caused Stargazer’s engine to require premature replacement, fitted our last new heads. (The pump on the heads being a wear part. With the cost of a new heads being comparable to that of servicing the pump. A task which no one relishes). And ‘simplified’ the original Hallberg-Rassy sanitation valving design. 

Both the valve to the on board holding tank, and that to locally isolate the seawater intake, were removed. (Making it easier, for the rogue engineers, to refit the hoses, within the confines of the locker, in which they are housed). Leaving but a single valve, on the outlet pipe to the heads. Serving both heads and holding tank. The consequence of this is that, should the heads outlet block (for example through calcification, due to the known reaction between seawater and effluent), the heads discharge diverts, unbeknown to the user, into the holding tank. 

Furthermore, the lack of a valve, on the holding tank, means that it’s contents cannot be prevented from release, inside the boat, if a calcified outlet pipe is removed for replacement. 

Use of a system of jugs and buckets, carried by me, and the extreme forbearance of Shane, from Marine & General, who stoically used a gloved hand to regulate flow, meant that, of six buckets of fermenting excrement, contained by the holding tank, only two were lost into Stargazer’s bilge.

But a little effluent goes a long, and malodorous way, in a bilge. Even one as well designed and accessible as Stargazer’s. In the main I was able to bail the bilge. Before rinsing with copious disinfectant. However, there is one area, beneath the shower tray, with no line of sight, which I can only reach into by means of a specially made ‘poo (sic) stick.’ (A metre length of aluminium tube). Using it to wad industrial towelling, and plenty of Dettol, into the space. Before dragging the soiled swab back out, by means of a line tied to one corner. A process repeated until a fresh towel returned unsullied.

So far, twenty four hours on, basking in the summer heat of St Peter Port, Stargazer’s saloon passes a ‘sniff test.’ Which, I am hoping, means that there are no undetected pockets of standing liquid, to be unleashed once Stargazer is heeling and pitching at sea.

Suffice it to say that reinstatement of valving, for the holding tank, will be a winter work list priority.

La Hirondelle 96

 It is a night arrival, after all. Stargazer’s fleetness of foot, under cruising chute, means that the sun is three hours from rising, when we enter the Little Russel. Abandoning our normal corner cutting ways, to give St Martin’s Point and the harbour breakwater (both pot buoy hotspots) the widest of berths.

Storm Betty is down to a fine west sou’ westerly, by the time Stargazer sets sail.

Leaving the craggy Breton shoreline in her wake. A cautious two reefs in the main.

Soon replaced by full main and cruising chute. As Stargazer turns northeast. Placing the wind on her quarter.

Prancing across the swell. Threading the gap between the Triagoz reef and. . .. .

. . . . . the largest island in the Sept Iles archipelago. Which I call Aslan. Because it’s form and colour always remind me of a sleeping lion.

The sun sets as Stargazer barrels past Les Roches Douvres. Now three hours ahead of schedule. The lighthouse adds its rhythmic white flash, to a sky aglow with stars. Galaxies, constellations, lone stars and infinite clusters. They combine to cast a glinting sheen, over the tumbling surface of the sea, on this moonless night. As a dolphin repeatedly circles and leaps, in the pool of green light, cast by the starboard pulpit navigation light.

La Hirondelle 95

 

The Fete de l’Oignon is in full swing, as we stamp out of Schengen. The overnight gale down to a passage making westerly.

On the turn of the tide, Stargazer sails for Guernsey. Where the parts, required to make her repairs, are waiting.

La Hirondelle 94

 

Preparations are underway for the Fete de l’Oignon. A celebration of the Breton ‘Onion Johnnies.’ Who would cross, on the Roscoff ferry. Their bicycles strung about with home grown pink onions. To sell door to door in towns throughout Britain.

It is looking likely that Stargazer will miss the weekend of entertainments. Storm Betty is forecast to pass to our north tonight. Bringing a passage making south westerly, in her wake, overnight Saturday into Sunday. When the tides flow toward Guernsey.

On-line border control formalities have accordingly been completed, with both French and UK authorities. And an invitation duly received, to have my passport stamped, tomorrow morning. Leaving time for a substantial brunch and a nap, before departure.