Port Tudy to Port Haliguen

The plan for the day was to sail the relatively short distance from Port Tudy on the Ile de Groix to Port Haliguen on the Quiberon peninsular. The day started cold and wet with a passing front so we were fully togged up in wet weather gear, such a contrast to the sunshine of the previous 3 days. The wind, which started at Beaufort force 3 to 4, quickly rose to force 5 to 6 which, coupled with the Atlantic swell, made a rough ride through the Passage de Teignouse. This was another stretch of water surrounded by rocks which required careful navigation to avoid running aground. After 5 hours of rock and roll we rounded the tip of the peninsular into more sheltered waters and reached Port Haliguen, which we promptly nicknamed Port Hooligan as the French pronunciation was too difficult. The contrast between Port Tudy and Port Hooligan could not have been greater; Port Tudy was a picturesque former tuna fishing port on an island whereas Port Hooligan was a vast, soulless modern marina. After touching the keel on the mud trying to get to the fuelling pontoon, we moored up on the visitor’s pontoon which was around a half mile walk from the Harbour Master’s Office and the showers. However, we did find a small chandlery which had just received delivery of a batch of “Jolly Hookers” (see 3 Jul 15) so we bought one for Synergy. We spent a quiet evening on the boat as we were both tired out from the battering that we had received through the Teignouse Passage.

8 July 15

Port Hooligan.

The day’s forecast predicted winds of up to force 7 and so it proved to be so we stayed put in Port Hooligan. Throughout the trip the marina internet connections had proved to be erratic and unreliable and it was no surprise that Port Hooligans web connection was just as bad as the rest so we went looking for a hotel or bar that had a good Wi-Fi signal. (Any excuse will do!) Having achieved that aim by walking round to the old fishing harbour and eating a crepe at a café we then thought that we ought to check out the Wi-Fi in the hotel across the road. Theirs’s was good as well! Back at the boat we got talking to a British couple whose Island Packet, “Virginia R” was moored across the pontoon from us. They invited us aboard for coffee and we spent a very enjoyable evening chin wagging on their boat. Bill and his wife Jacqueline had been sailing in Brittany for many years and were a mine of information about sailing in French waters. One particular piece of information warning us about French fishing boats fishing with nets strung between them proved to be useful just the following day. Jacqueline gave Jac a little tray from Brittany – such a lovely couple who we hope to meet up with again in our travels.

Concarneau to Port Tudy

We had to depart from Concarneau early in the morning as we needed fuel and the refuelling berth was in a shallow corner of the marina. High water was required for us to get to the diesel pump. Having refuelled, we then found a problem with the bow thruster which was not working properly making it difficult to turn the boat around. Reversing out, we spotted Bert on Kokopelli’s deck so Jac and I stood to attention and saluted as we passed by, a fitting final farewell!
We had planned to sail to L’Orient but changed our minds on the way and decided to go to Port Tudy on L’Isle de Groix. This proved to be very interesting! The documentation indicated that there were two types of berths in the harbour: pontoons …..good, or mooring buoys ……. very bad (after our experience at St Evette) (Still no Jolly Hooker). We were met at the harbour entrance by a young man in a dory who explained that there was no room on the pontoons and we would have to moor on the buoys! Disaster! Our hearts sank. We could foresee yet another half hour’s entertainment for the locals coming up with a corresponding reduction in our self-esteem and a complete reassessment on the part of foreigners as to the reputation of the British Naval tradition. On entering the harbour, our “helpful” guide led us towards a gap in the moored boats that it would have be difficult to slide a mini through, let alone a 39 ft. long 12 ft. wide yacht. We bottled out and went the long way round reversing all the way into shallow water at the back of the harbour. After a lot of faffing, while I tried to stop Synergy running aground, we were directed to raft onto a British flagged yacht and tie fore and aft to the same buoys as our neighbour. Miraculously this all went very smoothly and we breathed a sigh of relief.

Jac’s Bit.
Chris’s rafting up was amazing!! The Royal Navy would have been very proud of him!

Back to Chris……
We inflated the tender and rowed ashore where we paid our mooring fees and explored the water front, eating at a dockside restaurant, followed by a rather erratic trip back to the boat in the tender. And so to bed.

6 Jul 15

At Port Tudy

The bow thruster had been playing up since the unfortunate incident with the stray warp at Dartmouth, so I decided to get into the water and assess the damage. The water was warm, over 20°C, but I still got kitted out in my wetsuit, donned mask, snorkel and fins and dropped into the water. A quick survey revealed that the starboard rotor on the bow thruster had lost 2 of its 5 blades and was therefore complaining of the imbalance. There was nothing to be done about it at this stage, short of pulling the boat out of the water and replacing the rotor. I carried a spare, but the risk of dropping a vital component when doing the job in the water made the decision to wait until Gib an easy one.

Moored near us was a Moody-built yacht, “Paddington” which had been previously owned by friends of Jac’s. They were heading over to the French mainland. It’s a very small world!

A bit of boat cleaning was in order, so I started to scrub the decks using buckets of seawater. In the process I managed to lose my valued and valuable folding bucket overboard which immediately started to sink. Without a thought for my own safety, I jumped in after it and rescued the same before it sank out of reach. Unfortunately, I was then unable to get back on the boat as the swim ladder was folded up so I had to call on Jac, who was down below, to give me a hand.

Jac’s bit

I was down below doing some household chores when I heard a plaintiff cry from up above. I went up on deck only to find Chris splashing around in the sea still wearing his hat and glasses and clutching his bucket! When I found out that his entry into the water was not by accident but in an attempt to rescue his bucket I saw no mercy! Much to the amusement of our neighbours I kept him floundering in the sea for several minutes while I decided on the terms on which I would let down the ladder so he could come back on board.

Back to Chris

Having recovered from the unexpected immersion in the harbour we spent the evening ashore, starting in an old pub in the back streets, followed by a kebab at a waterfront café and the inevitable wandering return to the boat. (The evening was at my expense – the terms of being allowed to use my own ladder after the bucket incident!) As night fell musicians on a nearby Irish boat started playing Celtic folk songs and Irish jigs to the appreciation of an audience on all the surrounding boats. I tried to join in with an impression of River Dance on Synergy’s fore deck and only narrowly managed to avoid another ducking in the harbour. A great evening.

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St Evette to Concarneau

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Bridge to the Old Town, Concarneau

We couldn’t leave St Evette until 0915 in the morning as we had ordered a bread delivery to the boat for that time. It’s a tough life! It was a cloudy morning with a forecast of light winds and Jac said that we should need a reef in later at which I fell over laughing. However, after a gentle breeze to start and contrary to the forecast, I hate to have to admit that wind guru Jac was correct. One reef in the sail had us bowling along on our ear close-hauled chasing Kokopelli who had a greater turn of speed than us. We rounded the Pointe de Penmarsh and the wind dropped to the forecast breeze and we were back to the engine again. We separated from Bert and Theresa who went the long way round an Island while we took the short cut, arriving in Concarneau about half an hour before them. The mooring was at the end of a pontoon and very tight but after the antics of the previous day, we were determined that our arrival would be uneventful – which it was, thank goodness. We were sat on deck with our gin and tonics looking smug awaiting Kokopelli’s arrival.

4 Jul 15

Concarneau, (it wasn’t very chilli there) proved to be a very pretty town. The old town was in the middle of the harbour with a drawbridge linking the land to some attractive, narrow, picturesque streets full of touristic delights. Jac and I separated from Theresa and Bert while we restocked the boat and then went for a stroll to see the sights. We wandered through the streets, saw a wedding procession, accompanied by a piper in full highland rig. The Celtic tradition runs strong in Brittany. This was to be our last day with Kokopelli as Bert and Theresa had to return to the UK by 18 July and wanted to start slowly making their way west and north again. Jac and I had to keep pressing on south if we were to reach Gibraltar by 3 Oct. Jac and I also went hunting for a Jolly Hooker but the poorly stocked chandlery was unable to provide one. We met with Bert and Theresa in the evening for a farewell supper, commencing with drinks on board Kokopelli before proceeding to the old town for a meal of steak and chips at a pretty outdoor restaurant. We then went to a concert which was taking place at a makeshift arena constructed in a corner of the old town walls. A mixture of contemporary music was played by some very talented musicians from a local music school. It was a great evening culminating in more drinks on board Kokopelli and a presentation to us by Bert and Theresa of the Concarneau Cup for being the first to arrive at that destination. We feel that this trophy might be hotly contested in the future. We bade a reluctant farewell to our two friends at 0130 with the prospect of an early morning departure ahead.

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Douarnenez to St Evette

We left Douarnenez for the last time at around midday and were able to sail, tacking our way towards the Raz de Sein. The wind was blowing a gentle force 4 breeze and we were racing Bert and Theresa, who varied between a few hundred yards and a couple of miles away, as we weaved our way towards the channel. After a couple of hours of fun, we had to use the engine in order to reach the Raz for the safe window and passed that stretch of water with only a gentle swell and no dramas. The rest of the trip to St Evette was uneventful until we reached our mooring. St Evette is a shelter behind a breakwater with no pontoons only mooring buoys, most of those moorings being in shallow water for smaller boats. Having arrived before Kokopelli, we quickly found a buoy in deep enough water and with Jac on the helm, we were expecting an easy arrival. Not so! To the great amusement of a French couple on a power boat moored nearby, the fun started. At the first attempt to hook the buoy I found that it was the weight of a cannon ball with no easy way to connect the line. I nearly disappeared over the side of the boat in my determination to secure the warp. I quickly decided that holding the weight of a 39 foot sailing boat in one hand wasn’t feasible so I let go and lost the boat hook overboard. The hysterical cries of the French couple, “The problem is that it is a French boat” did not help matters as we were obviously providing their evening entertainment. Attempt number 2 with our spare boat hook proved no better but we did manage to retrieve boat hook number one which received a round of applause from Monsieur and Madam le France. At the third attempt with me at the helm and Jac on the boat hook we did manage to hook on, but Jac couldn’t lift the cannon ball more than a couple of inches out of the water. I deserted my post at the helm and between us, we were able to get a line through the loop on the buoy. This received a further round of applause from our neighbours, but we felt that they were disappointed that the fun was over. However, we were in no mood to give them an encore. Kokopelli then arrived and couldn’t find a buoy in deep enough water so tried to anchor. Their anchor wouldn’t hold and we directed them on the radio to a buoy near us that looked a suitable prospect. They had a “Jolly Hooker,” a clever device for securing a line through the loop and made fast at the first attempt, much to the disappointment of our French neighbours! We decided that every boat needs a Jolly Hooker and resolved to obtain one as soon as we could. Meanwhile, someone in trouble with engine failure had broadcast a pan pan call and the lifeboat moored next to us sped off to tow them back to a mooring half an hour later. Bert and Theresa had by this time paddled over to join us and Jac and Theresa applauded the lifeboat crew as they brought the limping vessel home. The Raz was supposed to be exciting but mooring up in St Evette proved to be much more so!

Douarnenez Again!

 

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Douarnenez across the river

The following morning we reported our strange encounter of the previous night to the harbour master. We came to the conclusion that the motor boat had been trying to rendezvous on some nefarious business with the sailing boat that we had seen some minutes before and mistaken us and then Kokopelli for his partner. We were also left wondering whether a customs search on a boat further along the visitor’s pontoon the previous afternoon, together with the presence of three fit looking young men, one carrying a machine pistol over his shoulder had had any connection with our incident.

We all decided that the night was not an option for another attempt and that we would depart in the afternoon of 2 July and make our way to Saint Evette, the first possible mooring after the Raz. We spent the day sightseeing in Douarnenez.