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 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.
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