Zen Again 99

 

Praying Mantis arms extended, the strange flat bottomed craft, of the oyster fishery lie in wait.

In the shoal waters, above the high white arc of the bridge arch.

Where the riviere Crac'h weaves its way between wrack covered promontries, beneath darkly wooded banks, and birdsong echoes.

To seaward, after resting over the Quatorze holiday, the breeze is back. Blowing from the west. Stargazer's current general direction of travel.

Fortunately, this coast is so indented and harbours so frequent, that Stargazer should either be able to find a slant; or to shorten her rhumb line distance (to offset zig-zag tacking) to her next ports. To achieve a series of carefree day sails.

That is the theory! Tomorrow Stargazer plans to put it to the test.

  

Zen Again 98

 

Armel Tripon's multicoloured IMOCA leaves La Trinite's waterfront. First of the new build contenders, for the 2028 Vendee Globe, to launch. An extended work up campaign is planned, with sponsors P'tits Doudous. The specialists in hospital waste recycling. Appropriately, the boat is (largely) built of repurposed carbon fibre offcuts, from the Nantes (Armel's home town) Airbus factory.

The entourage passes two slumbering giants. Ultim trimarans, built to claim the Jules Verne round the world speed record. Their attempts made during the Southern Ocean summer. Northern European winter.

Once clear of the higgledy-piggledy inner harbour moorings . . . . .

. . . . .the crew disappear off deck. No doubt preparing to hoist sail, the moment that they have sea room.

Beside the channel, a few last oyster sacks are turned. As the tide rises, to cover the racks upon which they rest.

The rusty farm tractor beats a hasty retreat, to the rocky foreshore. A harvest of ripe and ready oysters on its tail lift.

Zen Again 97

 

Sunday is classic keelboat racing day in La Trinite sur Mer. The more so, on a summer bank holiday weekend.

Long lean hulls and gleaming varnishwork adorn the waterfront.

Sails are bent on.

The race committee is consulted.

Then, the moment arrives.

For the fleet to set sail.

With regatta ready crews poised on deck.

 Gracefully, the boats short tack off the stone quay. Silently gathering speed.

Zen Again 96

 

A sailing mad sandwich: 

The oyster farms, in the seaward reaches, of the Riviere Crac'h. . . . .

. . . .and above the bridge, are the baguette.

The port of La Trinite, a piquant filling. Set on the outside of a sweeping bend.

Think Dartmouth (if you know it). But, sandier and sunnier.

Armel Tripon's (he who brought the Sam Manuard scows to the 2020 Vendee Globe) latest IMOCA lies beside a wooden gaffer. Which flies the black and white Breton Gwenn-Ha-Du at her stern. Whilst the hawk eyed capitainerie team flit about, in their RIBs, maintaining order, amid the bank holiday melee.

Zen Again 95

 

The north east night breeze sends Stargazer racing across indigo waters, in the delicious cool of the dawn. 

The moon was setting, over the outer reefs, as we left Pornichet. Glinting off the gyrating blades of the windfarm beyond.

Astern, the sun signals that it is about to rise.

We leave by the fully buoyed main channel. It lying on today’s route. Stargazer's skipper stowing lines and fenders, whilst Stargazer makes her way seaward. Running before the wind, under full main.

We unfurl the jib and come up onto a reach, once clear of the last of the rocky outcrops. Sixteen knots of breeze, and a fair tide, sending Stargazer skimming along at six to seven knots.The early morning light painting the taut sails rose pink.

Out past the Pointe de Croisic, we sail. Where a fisherman keeps a wary eye on us, as we weave through his maze of pot buoys. Stargazer, as ever, cutting a corner to shorten her course.

To emerge in Quiberon Bay. Which must come very close to the epitome of a sailing paradise. Bounded, as it is, by the islands of Houat and Hoedic, the Golfe du Morbihan, and quintessentially craggy Breton fishing ports too numerous to mention. The summer weather usually benign.

By midday, Stargazer is riding the flood up the Riviere de Crac'h. Between emerald green oyster beds, which reach out from its banks. Her skipper taking in the rough hewn rustic tranquility, of the timeless scene.

Four French flagged boats roar by. Throttles fully open, sterns squatting. Crews studiously avoiding eye contact. There are strident calls for berths, on the radio. The capitainerie explain that the visitor pontoon is full, because it is Le Quatorze bank holiday weekend. Three options are available for new arrivals: wait for someone to leave, raft up or try a less popular port.

Stargazer arrives, at the visitor pontoon, as a Dutch boat is leaving. She swiftly inserts herself into the resulting space. British queuing sensibilities set aside. Her skipper embracing his inner Frenchman. Our ringside seat, for Le Quatorze celebrations, has been secured in La Trinite-sur-Mer.

Zen Again 94

Pornichet is twenty first century Breizh. Unashamedly man made, in a modern style. Low rise blocks line a four mile crescent of beach. Protected, from the Atlantic swell, by an encircling ring of (natural) reefs and islands.

The original drying harbour, protected by 'the old mole,' lies immediately off gently shelving sands.

The marina is further out, in deeper water. Reached by a low bridge, which strides across the, low water, rock pools.

To the east of which, lie a line of traditionally styled buildings. Set amid scotch pines.

The marina is home to a fleet of J80’s. Which sail on and off their berths, in the farthest corner of the complex, carrying goggle eyed trippers.

Today, the schooner Le Foudroyant is in port. Slotting neatly into a finger berth. After much deft manoeuvring.

Tomorrow, wind willing, Stargazer plans to sail west. In search of a port, in which to enjoy the Quatorze (Bastille Day, fourteenth of July) celebrations.  With the sun shining, and all of France savouring the prospect of a long weekend, berths are likely to be in short supply.

 

Zen Again 93

 

The fishing fleet is racing homeward, beneath a cloud of wheeling gulls. As Stargazer sails from Saint-Gilles-Croix-de-Vie.

The breeze is from the north west, twelve to sixteen knots. Due to back westerly during the day. Stargazer beats up the rhumb line. Tacking on the shifts.

Her reward is to overtake and ease away from her big sister. The Dutch flagged Rassy 342 Robuste. We are sailing lower but faster. Taking advantage of the favourable shifts. Skipper at the helm, as opposed to autopilot (I'm guessing) aboard the Dutchman.

By the time we reach Les Boeufs (off Noirmoutier) Stargazer is seven nautical miles ahead and to windward, of the bigger (theoretically faster) boat.

Stargazer eases sheets. Setting off on a scorching reach. The breeze up to eighteen knots, out of the west.

Swooping past the ship anchorage, off the Loire. Her skipper clambering about the deck, dodging dollops of spray as best he can, rigging fenders. For, at seven knots, our arrival is imminent.

On the plotter, I see the AIS track of a boat emerging, from Pornichet, through a gap in the encircling reef. The route will save five nautical miles, over the dog-leg main channel entrance. I furl the jib, to reduce Stargazer's speed and to better pick out the two buoys, which the chart (upon closer examination) indicates should mark the pass.

Stargazer sweeps through. Back in Breizh (Brittany) at the height of the holiday season.