Dandelion 40

 

The seas suck and surge, at the feet of La Vieille (The Old Woman). Shattering into white diamonds of spray, against the forbidding black rock. On which the watchful matriach, of the Raz de Sein, is perched.

Stargazer gybes, with La Platte abeam. Slowing as she fights the last of the north going tide. Before breaking free. Into Southern Brittany and the Bay of Biscay. The summerland.

We left Camaret in a theatrical dawn. Through the Toulinguet gap. The sentinel semaphore high on the point, to port.

The wave riven sculpture, of 'Le Lion,' to starboard.

Stargazer broad reaches south, in twenty knots true. Surfing on a rolling swell. Two reefs in the main. A degree of trepidation, in her skipper's heart, about what the Raz may hold in store for us.

 Two hours later, Stargazer has crossed the Baie de Douardenez. The jut of the Pointe du Raz is in sight ahead. Topped by its Coastgurd lookout. 

So much has Stargazer enjoyed the conditions, that we have arrived with an hour and a half of adverse tide still to run. Which will mound any seas higher (wind over tide); and could be moving fast enough to halt progress altogether. 

We stand in cautiously, on a starboard gybe. Searching out the smoother water, which seems to lie toward the Ile de Sein. Feeling the strength of the (neap) tide. Judging the counteracting power, bestowed by our passage-making breeze.

Until, I sense that we can make it. Stargazer gybes onto port. Slows to three knots (over the ground), as if pausing beside La Vieille to pay an obeisance. Before bounding on, to leave the Pointe du Raz dwindling astern.

Stargazer races across the Baie d'Audierne. Making six and seven knots. The tide turned in her favour. Chasing down two slim grey candlesticks on the far horizon.

As I eat a birthday lunch, of coffee and Breton Tart (similar to a bakewell tart, but richer and made with prune jam). they gain colour and form. Resolving into the Pointe de Penmarc'h light and reef markers. The gateway to Benodet Bay.

I bring Stargazer up onto a fetch. Seeking a straight line course, through the islets, crags and shoals. Which give the bay its delightful, rough hewn, Breton character.

Finding it, between Les Moutons and the An Treuz-Vaz pinnacle. Which rears only a sharp granite tip, above the surface. Like a tine from Neptune's trident.

Stargazer, and her skipper, arrive beneath the shelter of Concarneau's battlements, salt streaked and elated. After a rip roaring day at sea, that will live long in the memory