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Hansel and Gretel cottages peer from vivid wildflower meadows.

The streets of Joinville behind me. As I cross the centre of Ile d'Yeu.

The port closure, it is patiently explained to me, by the Harbour Master, simply means a two day lockdown on boat movements. For visitors opting to remain (which we are welcome to do), Yeu is 'Hotel California:' We may not leave, until the regatta is over.

I am free to walk the island. The metalled road peters out. Becoming, first, gravel cycle track, then well trod footpath. Across the low dome of the island.

Soon blue Atlantic ocean is within sight once more. As the path drops away, into a valley.

Guarded by Le Vieux Chateau, at its seaward end. Built to fend off any attempt to attack Joinville, from the rear.

By means of landing, on the sleepy sands of the Plage de Sabias.

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Startling me, the Merlin silenty rises, from amid the stones. Banks steeply and skims low over the scrub. On rapid beats of palely barred wings. The falcon's meal left bleeding, beneath the mighty cap rock. (Centre of picture)

I retreat, but the hungry raptor does not return. My vigil gives pause, to fully absorb the scene before me. The lichen stained stones, of the Dolmen de la Planche a Puare. The Atlantic rollers, sacrificing themselves upon the Pointe de la Gournise reefs. Wind roar and birdsong mingling in the salty, pine scented, air.

Despite the sound and movement, it is a place of stillness. In which to ponder the intent, of the ancient stonemasons, who erected this enigmatic monument, mausoleum or tabernacle. And many of its like, across European shores.

At the foot of the cliff below, a Cormorant contemplates stormy seas. Wondering, perhaps, when conditions will ease. For the north wind, of Stargazer's arrival, is still rising.

A similar question is on my mind, as I return to Stargazer. For the cruising roulette wheel has spun again, to a new two word command: 'Une Regate.' A regatta arrives, in Port Joinville, on Monday. All visitors must leave, to make space.

If the breeze remains strong and northerly, Stargazer may have to return south. Rather than round the tip of Noirmoutier, due north of us. Our preferred option. A dawn forecast check will decide matters.

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"A couple"(French pronounciation) is Stargazer's berth allocation. When we radio Port Joinville, upon arrival. Doubled up, or rafted. Two words, which signal that the cruising roulette wheel is to be set spinning. 

Stargazer secures the last 'inside' berth. By the time her skipper turns in, there are two boats outside us. And a third persuaded, that four boats, is more than our shoreside cleats can stand. All, of our new friends, depart during breakfast. By lunchtime, the harbour master has shoehorned Stargazer into a (newly vacated) finger berth, of her own.

Her skipper is free to go ashore, leaving Stargazer unattended. I take a back road, into town. For peak holiday season has begun across France. And Ile d'Yeu is a renowned 'honey pot' destination. Ferries, yachts, and even a helicopter taxi, are busy landing their leisure loving passengers, along the harbour front.

Where sea angling excursion boats board their trippers.

And local pot boats take stock. After an early morning excursion, to collect their catch. Which will soon be served up fresh, in one of the waterfront eateries.

After a lively evening and morning, of impromptu fending off, and multi-lingual line handling, I am firmly in the 'sit back and watch the world go by' camp today.

Preferring to take the, more tranquil, scenic route. As I wander Yeu.

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Stargazer puts to sea. Hoisting sail at the head of the Les Sables canal. A light breeze fills in, as we clear the lee of the land.

And come up onto the wind.

Once clear of the Les Barges reefs.

The breeze builds steadily. Eight, twelve, seventeen, twenty three knots. Stargazer strides off, over the Biscay swell. Her skipper pulling in reefs, to keep her comfortable.

We tack up the, north westerly trending, shore. The wind squarely from the north west. Sailing two miles for every one made good. Spray flying, wind singing; Stargazer's tiller gloriously talkative, in my hand.

By late afternoon, Stargazer sights the low sandy shore of Ile d'Yeu. The tuneful whistle of the wind, now become a steady roar. White beards roaming the azure swell. I put the helm down.

For Joinville. Whilst the wind steadies its exuberance. Following the cue of this laid back, terracotta topped, town. 

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The boardwalks, beside the Les Sables entry canal, are deserted. In the heat of the Vendee sun. For summer, it seems, is making up for lost time.

Som,e make for the beach. To cool off in the sea. Fanned by a light breeze.

Others, quaff something long and cool, in the shade of the quayside cafes.

I take advantage of the (air conditioned) hyper market, located one 'block' back. Where prices are more reasonable (than the convenience stores which are normally to hand), the choice bewildering, and the walk, back to Stargazer, brief. 

Tomorrow, we will try our 'early start and see where we end up,' ruse again. With the forecast of a brisk headwind, by morning. Building to a very brisk headwind, by evening. And three potential landfalls to hand.

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 A fireball sunrise silhouettes the spires and minarets, of the La Rochelle skyline.

Stargazer slips silently seaward. The northerly night breeze, on her quarter. A fair tide beneath us. Our plan, to ride the breeze until it falters. In the heat of the day.

We steer downwind, of the rhumb line, to clear the arriving Utopia of the Seas. Once her passengers have breakfasted, it will be a busy day on the waterfront of the Vieux Port.

We harden up, once clear of the wind shadow. In six, tide assisted, tacks we are at the Ile de Re bridge.

Finding ourselves lined up on the central arch, when Stargazer settles into the sixth board. It acts as a marine 'central reservation' between the designated north and south bound shipping lanes. 

Leisure craft may pass, wherever they find sufficient air and water draft. Provided that they keep clear of commercial movements.

Utopia of the Seas stays on the La Pallice side of the bridge. The waters here too shallow for her like. Even at the top of the tide.

Our, late to bed, night breeze holds steady, at ten knots, through the mid morning. Carrying Stargazer past Saint Martin de Re. A possible stopover, had it faded early.

Gradually progress slows. The wind dropping to six knots and veering easterly. Which allows Stargazer to hoist the cruising chute, and restore momentum, for a while.

But this far into the day, the night breeze is tiring. Breaths come in puffs and wheezes. The shoreside villas slipping past ever slower. It is in need of an afternoon siesta. So that it may return reinvigorated tonight.

This is the signal for Stargazer to stop for the day. Back in Les Sables d'Olonne, for a pit stop.

 

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After fours days of tall masted Windjammers . . . . 

. . . . and apple cheeked Botters, from the low countries.

Of, Singing In the Rain. . . . .

. . . .and Walking On Sunshine.

Of, the small ships which shaped. . . .

. . . .the French sailing psyche.

The first ever Fetes Maritimes de la Rochelle draws to a close. Its stars disperse to sea. The admiring crowds drift home.

It has been a nautical seventh heaven.

Let us hope that the seafaring spectacular will return, for a reprise next year.