Saturday, 5 September 2015

Three Months Out

An important part of any new boat purchase is the quality of the warranty.  Jeanneau is famous for its 2-year all-inclusive warranty, and we fully intend to take advantage of it.  This year’s cruise is all about shaking lose anything that is likely to fail while we’re still relatively close to home.  

A recap of "firsts": our first drying out (Batz Island).
We’re convinced that Jeanneau’s actuaries have done their homework and have estimated that most boat owners sail 1 month per year, meaning a 2-year warranty covers anything that falls apart after roughly 2 months of actual sailing. At 3 months of sailing, we’ve got quite a nice list of repairs for them.  Most of these were listed in our “One Month Out” report, and include:  

Genoa difficult to furl “by hand” without a winch
Genoa sheet rail / traveller developed a thumb-sized pit in the metal rail
Mainsail ripped along battens in 2 spots
Mainsheet downhaul rubbed a hole in the dodger
Swim platform latch broke
Spinnaker pole end fittings are broken / stuck
Wifi antenna brackets rusted
Starboard steering wheel pinion misaligned (makes “clunk” noises in two places)  

We’re happy to announce that ALL of the above have been covered by Jeanneau and almost everything has been repaired in 4 days.  The Genoa problem hasn’t really gone away although we’ve re-configured the path of the furler line, which takes care of the problem in all but the strongest wind conditions.  The wheel pinion is on order, however, and we’re not sure when it will arrive.  We will float around our local waters until early next week when they will be able to tell us if it’s a question of days or weeks.  Overall, we’re extremely impressed with the warranty and the service at our local dealer (Chantier Naval Le Pennec, Vannes, France).

So now the proverbial bar has been raised and we’re ready to head back out for another 2 months to try even harder to shake more things lose !  Woo Hoo !

Our first time using the Gennaker.
The first 3 months, by the numbers:

954 : nautical miles traveled
92 : days living on the boat
90 : hours motoring
75: (this one at the request of Patrick): approximate value in Euros of things lost overboard by Maria (instrument cover, electrical adapter, Leatherman)
41 : days sailing
34 : different ports and anchorages visited (35% anchorages)
12 : ports or anchorages new to us
10 : psychological meltdowns over crappy weather
8 : repairs needed (see above)
7 : hours flying the Gennaker
6 : friends crewing
5 : mackerel caught and consumed
5 : books read
3 :  kilos (6.5 pounds) lost by Maria  (see mackerel references)
2  : countries visited
1 : medical emergency  (Patrick developed an ugly and rapidly-growing mole on the back of his calf that needed surgery a.s.a.p.  The pathologists still aren’t sure if it was a carcinoma or not.  I stayed with the boat for 2-3 days on 2 separate occasions while he traveled back home to have this taken care of.)

1 : family emergency  (My mom had cardiac complications after knee-replacement surgery.  We rerouted to a port with transportation options in case I needed to fly out rapidly.  We sat and waited and worried for a week, but everything was happily resolved.)

Our first time visiting Sark in the Channel Islands

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Brittany Ports and Anchorages 2015

When planning a cruise around Brittany, it’s imperative to have a good and up-to-date cruising guide. (An excellent internet resource for complimentary port information is JimB Sail (http://www.jimbsail.info/).   Things are tricky here, with some of the highest tides and strongest currents in Europe, and many ports and anchorages are nestled in a rocky, drying shoreline. 

Sunset over Houat Island to end mark the end of our 2015 cruise around Brittany.
Even with a good guide, I always have a few lingering doubts about how some ports function, so I decided to make a few notes about our 2015 experiences. This is by no means a complete list of ports or anchorages in the area but only the ones we visited this year. These are loosely organized from south to north from Vannes in the Morbihan Gulf up to the Channel Islands. 

Vannes – I have a love / hate relationship with Vannes.  It’s one of the few ports in the center of a charming medieval town and has excellent new port facilities.  After traveling up the Morbihan gulf and passing under the Kerino bridge (with limited openings) and through the ever-changing maze of buoys that route ship traffic around a tunnel construction area, you enter a narrow channel (2 meters deep but only if you stay in the center) that takes you into the main port area.  Visitors are usually directed to one of three pontoons near the port office.  The space is wide but actual dock space is limited and you can be sure to be rafted up.  If you have a shallow draft, you may be given a catway slip in the inner harbour north of the foot bridge, but for boats > 10 meters it’s very tight for manoeuvres.  Because the port is in the center of town, it can be noisy, especially on weekends when the surrounding bars and cafes overflow onto the port area.  The port area is also “the place to be” for local teens.  The visitors’ docks are not protected and anyone can “visit”.  Acts of vandalism are, sadly, not rare.  We’ve had bottles of beer chucked at the boat (while we were aboard) and had night visitors that tied small trash bags all over the rigging.  We were lucky that these were more annoying than damaging, but it’s still unacceptable and has never happened to us in any other port. This is the price you pay for being in a lively down town area with excellent shops and markets.     

Morbihan Gulf / Iles aux Moines – two floating pontoons for visitors with electricity and a water taxi service to / from island.  Excellent facilities (although showers always a tad chilly).  With the lifting keel we were able to use the interior pontoon, less crowded and more protected from wash and chop of passing ferries.

Haliguen – We used the visitor’s pontoon in the east basin.  Much less crowded with nice shower facilities close by, although a bit of a hike to the harbour master’s office if needed.  Port area a bit dead but the town of Quiberon is only a 15-20 minute walk away (or easy bike ride).  Nice coastal walks. 

Houat / Treach Salus Beach – This is one of our favourite spots in the Quiberon bay.  It’s always crowded in summer but there is almost always room for everyone.  (I counted 40 boats anchoring overnight while we were there).  The best protection from the westerly swell is on the northeast corner behind the Beg Salus rock, but you’ll need a shallow draft to take advantage of this.

Port Louis – excellent new facilities and charming town with good market streets.  Important to stay in the marked channel at entrance to port because of shallow mud banks on either side.

Lorient / Centre Ville – we avoided the center ville for a long time, choosing instead one of the 3 larger marinas in the bay (Port Louis, Locmiquelic, or Kernevel).  This time, we had a crew member to drop off in town and decided to give the Center Ville port a try.  Visitors are normally placed on the pontoons at the entrance of the port but catway slips are sometimes available if you ask for stays longer than one day.  The facilities are the best in Brittany, in the same league as Jersey or Guernsey.  The showers are huge, you can adjust the temperature of the water, and each stall has its own mirror and sink area.  The laundry facilities are new and reasonably priced, and (drumroll, please) there is a SAUNA.  They loan bikes, free of charge.  The town, while not particularly appealing, has a small pedestrian downtown shopping area that is quite nice. 

Groix Island / Port Tudy – crowded and narrow, but always worth the visit. 

Groix Island / St Nicolas – To be avoided on beautiful weekends (too crowded).  Gorgeous creek with high cliffs.  Enough space for 3 or 4 largish sailboats to anchor overnight.  Rocky and narrow, so choose anchorage and chain length accordingly.

Groix Island / Plage des Grands Sables – Beautiful anchorage for calm weather.  Good holding off one of the few convex beaches in Europe.

Glenan Archipelago / La Pie anchorage – The zone north of St Nicolas and Bananec islands and south of the isolated danger buoy “the Pie” is a lovely anchorage in southerly winds.  The eastern part of the bay is organized with closely-spaced mooring buoys (fee) but the western part between Brunec and St Nicolas is free for anchoring.  Good holding (but have seen people slip here if they don’t dig in their anchor with a little reverse throttle) and reasonably well protected from westerly swell.

St Marine – beware of strong tides running perpendicular to the marina even in low tidal coefficients !  Best to arrive at slack tide. Visitors on mooring buoys or pontoons, often rafted up.  Otherwise a beautiful spot.

St. Evette – a typical stop to wait for favourable currents to pass the Raz de Sein, so always crowded.  Visitor’s moorings available (although not clearly marked).  Otherwise anchor, but watch out for swell that wraps around the seawall.

Audierne – a good alternative to St Evrette if you’ve got the time and, preferably, a lifting keel to wade gently into the narrow drying channel.  The channel is reasonably well marked but you are encouraged to only enter or leave between 2 hours before / after high tide.  They don’t have much space for visiting boats > 10 meters (3 or 4 spots at best).  Best to call ahead.  The facilities are excellent and the town is small but pleasant.   

Camaret – Usually a necessary stop in between tides when sailing through the Raz de Sein and Chenal du Four.  The visitor’s berths are set up in a series of U-shaped pontoons and its always tricky to get into / out of, but there is always someone around to give a helping hand.  The Notic marina closer to town has about 10 slips and a drying pontoon that can fit about 5 boats (boats are almost always rafted up here).  Wherever you go in Camaret (Notic or Camaret marina) the shower facilities are THE WORST in Brittany.  A beautiful coastal trail (part of GR34) and nice beach.  Some good food shops and a large supermarket nearby.  

Brest / Port du Chateau – a good alternative to Camaret if you’ve got time to make the extra 7 miles down the bay.  The Port du Chateau is well placed in the center of town.  The visitor’s slips and pontoon are on the far right as you enter.  The town can’t be called charming but the main pedestrian streets and shops are nice and they have one of the best bookstores in Brittany (with a large English language section, too). 

Aber Wrac’h – This is another port that is often a necessary stop either coming across the Channel or waiting for the tide to go around the Chenal du Four around the tip of Brittany heading south.  Hint:  when you arrive, tell the port officer firmly that you would like a catway berth (also helps to tell them you’ll be staying for several days…you can always change your mind later). Otherwise you’ll be rafted up on the pontoons.  As this is a major hub, there are always very early / very late departures / arrivals, making rafting up a real headache.  The facilities are good and there are some good restaurants around the port area, but otherwise dead.  Often foggy.

Ile Batz – This was our first attempt at a full dry-out.  It was fun although not particularly practical for going ashore (sand / mud mix, not easy to walk in…). This is one of the few ports that still allows boats to anchor freely in the drying harbour, which means you need to choose your spot carefully to avoid hitting all the small fishing boats on moorings near the zone. You can go very close to the beach / ramp area, as the sand is hard and flat up to the beach zone.  Very foggy.

Roscoff / Bloscon  – A huge marina with fancy new facilities.  Can be entered in all tides but watch out for currents in the port itself.  There is a free shuttle that runs from the marina to the town (worth a visit).  The navette also makes a stop at the Casino.  This didn’t interest us until we learned that this did not refer to the actual Casino around the corner, but instead to a huge supermarket named Casino.  

Morlaix – difficult to reach but worth the trip.  At the southern end of the Morlaix bay, the channel into the Morlaix river is well marked.  You need at least 4 meters of tide before entering.  At half-tide, we squeezed through with the keel lifted up to 1.5 meters.  Don’t stray from the channel or you risk getting stuck in mud / clay that is very difficult to get out of.  To enter the port of Morlaix you have to pass through a lock.  Lock hours are 1 ½ hours before high tide, at high tide, and at 1 hour after high tide.  If you arrive before the lock is open, tie up to the stone wall on the right.  In the lock, there is no “traffic controller” even in high season and it’s chaotic trying to self-organize many different-sized boats into the lock.  Coming out of the lock, a port officer in a zodiac will indicate a slip or pontoon for you.  A new dock was added recently and there seems to be lots of space for visitors.  The shower / sanitary facilities are quite poor, but the town is absolutely lovely and well worth the effort.  In the Morlaix bay, we also anchored north of Ile Sterec waiting for the tide to rise before entering the channel.  It’s a nice anchorage but seems pretty exposed for all but calm weather.   

Trebeurden – Fixed sill at 2.10 meters drying.  Beautiful modern marina in a lovely setting with pink granite boulders, nice coastal hikes and large beach area.

Tregastel – a poor cousin to Ploumanac’h but easier to enter and leave.  7 visitor’s moorings, clearly identified and well spaced.  Nothing much to see in the town but a beautiful jumble of pink granite boulders and beautiful small beaches around.  Somewhat exposed to northerly winds.  12 Euros.

Ploumanac’h – voted most beautiful village of France 2015.  The entrance channel is narrow, rocky, and drying but well marked … breathtaking in several respects !  There is a visitor’s waiting buoy around channel marker 8.   We had intended to dry out in the harbour but it is no longer permitted.  All visitors must use the first line of mooring buoys (line A) and tie up bow and stern.  Best to judge the wind / current direction to choose your angle of attack since it’s quite narrow.  Although they say they can only accept boats less than 12m, the mooring balls are so widely spaced that they were impractical for use for our 11.34m boat.  You can tie up to the smaller intermediate floaters if needed.  Also best to tie up to the leeward side of the mooring line so that you aren’t pushed onto / over the line and buoys. Departure is much easier when you drift away from the line.  Needless to say, gorgeous area.  We didn’t try the facilities but they seem quite poor.  We noticed a lovely flat sandy spot with a few boats dried out just to the west of the channel.  Unfortunately we were in a low tidal coefficient and without a better chart of the area, I wasn’t sure we’d have enough water to get in / get out again.  35 Euros / night with no facilities, water, or electricity.  A bit steep, but still worth a visit.

Port Blanc – A welcomed deep-water mooring area accessible at any tide (rare in this area).  It is exposed to northerly winds, though.  There are 7 visitor’s buoys, clearly marked and widely spaced running parallel to the main channel.  The site is lovely.  But don’t be fooled: it’s not free.  A guy in a zodiac will come knock on your boat around 8:30 am to ask for 11 Euros.  Fair enough.

Treguier – River with strong currents at the marina.  Arrive at slack tide if possible.  Call as you arrive to be assigned a slip.  If no slips are available for docking nose-to-current, the port officers may ask you to wait on a pontoon until the current slacks or changes direction.  Beautiful cathedral and nice old town area. 

Lezardrieux – nice spot on the river, crappy port facilities, a few good food shops up the hill in town. 

Brehat – Even though we have a lifting keel and could, in theory, go into The Chamber mooring area, this zone is completely marked off with mooring buoys now and anchoring is forbidden.  The site is always full.  We learned that we could push further on into the zone and dry out just south of Ile Lavrec, but it’s not very practical for going ashore.  The easiest, no-stress option is to anchor off Plage Guerzido.  There are two yellow poles on either side of the entrance that mark the limit of the mooring zone (yellow floating balls in high season to mark swim area).  You can moor anywhere south of this zone.  We rowed ashore to the small beach on the west side of Guerzido and followed a small path that leads into town (about 15 minute walk).  Beautiful site, still free, and worth the visit.

Paimpol – an extremely narrow but well-marked channel with water depth that dries out 4 meters where you line up to enter the channel.  The lock operates from 2 ½ hours before and 2 ½ hours after high tide, more-or-less on demand (call ahead to know if the lock is open in the in-going direction).  There is a visitor’s dock with catway slips but that fills up fast.  The 2015 guide said that boats > 10m should go to basin No1 but we saw no evidence of this happening and were directed to a pontoon along the far wall of basin No 2.  The old town is lively and charming.

St Quay – Another one of the rare marinas with access at all tides.  Good facilities, lots of restaurants and ship chandlers in the port area, a very small town center about 15-20 minutes by foot and some nice coastal hiking trails.  Good beaches if you’ve got the weather for it.

Fort de La Latte -  Small cove, good-weather stop only.  Anchor at the foot of an imposing fort (open for visits).

St Cast – Entrance at all tides, excellent new facilities, very chic, coastal resort town.

St Malo / Les Sablons – Sill at 2 meters.  Large port with most disappointing facilities and services – you have to go to the local café for internet, buying a loaf of bread requires advanced planning and a long hike into town, and there are very few options for food shopping in the area.  Lovely town area in St Servan, nice coastal walks, reasonably close to old town of St Malo. 

The Sound / Chausey – very busy and crowded.  It seems that there are fewer and fewer visitor’s buoys and it’s good to have a lifting keel.  We settled on the sand/mud with the keel up at 1.10 meters. The zone is organized into two parallel mooring lines where you tie up fore and aft.  Do yourself a favour (especially if you’ve got the keel up and are less manoeuvrable) :  grab the forward buoy facing the wind / current as if it’s the only buoy you are going to use.  Once you’ve got it, put the dinghy in the water and take your stern line out to the aft buoy.  (You’ll be using the dinghy to get to shore anyway.)  If you try to be fancy and pick up the back buoy first and then advance to the forward buoy, you’ll just make a huge mess of things.  There are bizarre currents in the sound that make such manoeuvres nearly impossible.  After hours of watching others tie up, the “forward-buoy-first” trick seems to be the only one that works without creating a spectacle.  The mooring is free and the island is beautiful (but crowded).  The Beauchamp pass running north / south along the archipelago is absolutely gorgeous at low tide.

St Helier / Jersey –  Sill that opens at 3 hours before and after high tide giving you 1.8 meters of clearance.  Nice waiting pontoons although crowded.  Visitor’s pontoons are large but expect to be rafted up at some point during your stay.  Very chic facilities.  The marina is in the heart of the town.  Food and fish markets daily at the halls, 10 minutes’ walk. 

St Aubin / Jersey – This is a lovely anchorage, nice broad flat sand, good protection near / behind St Aubin’s Fort if you can dry out and a short dinghy ride into the charming town of St Aubin.  We arrived too late to squeeze into an area for drying out but still had a good night moored out.

Sark – We spent two nights at anchor.  Derrible bay is gorgeous with good holding but not practical for going ashore.  Dixcart bay to the west is less attractive (but still very nice) with a beach area and coastal trail going into town.  People seemed surprised when we told them we had spent 2 nights at anchor in the area.  We were alone in Derrible and only had one or two companions in Dixcart.  Apparently this area is known for uncomfortable swell, but we weren’t particularly bothered. 


St Peter / Guernsey – Fixed sill at 4.2 meters drying.  There is a waiting pontoon at the entrance. Even if you’ve calculated that you have enough water to enter the harbour with your new lifting keel, you are supposed to wait to be escorted in and assigned a place.  We just barged right on in against some bewildering red lights and were met by a port officer in a zodiac telling us that everyone on the waiting pontoon was cursing us…but he let us slip through anyway and we got a good spot.  (Not recommending this technique, though).  Exiting is more straightforward.  The lights turn green where there is a 2 meters clearance above the sill.  We happily headed out with the keel down and heard a big metallic BONK as we crossed over the sill.  Just a little reminder that our draft is 2.25 meters, not 2 !  (The great thing about the lifting keel is that it just swings back and up when it encounters difficulties, so no harm done.)

Saturday, 22 August 2015

Rounding Finistere

Sailing around the western tip of Brittany requires passing through two of the strongest tidal passages in Europe; the Chenal du Four and the Raz de Sein.  It’s a tradition to drink a healthy dose of rhum entering or leaving the Raz de Sein.  After the miserable weather we’ve had the last 2 months in northern Brittany, the rhum was an especially welcomed celebration of being back in southern Brittany and heading south.

Rounding Finistere with friends... and rhum !
Just as we made it out of the Raz, the Hermione caught up with us.  This replica of the ship that Lafayette took to America in 1780 has just returned to France after re-creating Lafayette’s voyage.  The winds were light and the Hermione veered off under motor while we hugged the coast and sailed as best we could.  Since we were making less than 4 knots, we decided to fish.  Mackerel,what else?  (link)

Mareda losing the regata against the Hermione.  (They were cheating...)

More mackerel sushi on the way !

The voyage down the coast to Lorient was delightful: warmish weather (only ONE thin layer of polar fleece !) light winds and good friends. Things are looking up !

Another dolphin escort from Audierne to the Glenan Archipelago.

Light winds perfect for the gennaker.

Friday, 14 August 2015

A Day off and Dolphins

Many non-sailors believe that life on a sailboat is a floating vacation.  That may be true if you’re only going out for a week or so, but when you’re living aboard permanently for several months, there’s a lot of work to be done to keep your floating home afloat. 

The only good thing about early morning departures is an increased chance of having dolphins come play in your bow wake.
The first day in port typically involves basic boat maintenance and food shopping.  Once you’ve tied the boat up, the first thing to do is EAT.  After a 6 – 9 hour passage, you’ve probably skimped on at least one meal.  The inside of the boat is a wreck:  your sailing gear (boots, vests, life jackets, gloves, etc.) is thrown off where ever you can find space, and everything that wasn’t firmly secured before heading out (which is nearly everything since you weren’t expecting the rough conditions you had) has found its way onto the floor during all those tacks.  You push everything aside to create a space to sit and eat something fast and comforting: spaghetti, soup, leftovers. 

Now with a sigh, you divide and conquer: one person outside, one person inside.  Depending on the weather and sea conditions you just came through, you’ll probably need to hose down the boat to rinse off the salt.  Yes, sailboats are made to sail in salt water but all those metal fittings, anchor, chain, pulleys and hardware – even stainless steel (I scoff at the term) – need to be rinsed or they won’t last very long.  And while you’ve got the hose out, you may as well fill up the water tanks (and it takes awhile to load 330 liters with a garden hose).  To finish, you’ve got to secure all the halyards for the night so that they don’t clang against the mast when the wind kicks up at 2 a.m. 

You have to be going at least 5 knots or they aren't interested in you.

Now that the boat is in good shape, it’s time to think about personal hygiene.  You are salty, sticky, and you are beginning to smell like a cheese shop.  Off to the port office and public showers.  Yes, we have a shower on the boat and I do quite like using it except that you have to thoroughly wipe down and dry the whole bathroom compartment afterwards.  It seems like too much work after a long day, so you break down and go to the public showers, where you can be sure that the water will only be warm enough to avoid outright complaints but not warm enough to take away the chill you developed while sailing. 

So now the boat is clean and you are clean.  But you are getting hungry again and there’s nothing for dinner.  Off to the town to scavenge.  We usually find a bakery for bread and, if we’re lucky, a butcher shop and a small corner store for fruit and vegetables.  Sometimes we just get a take-out pizza.  If there’s a big grocery store within walking distance we’ll take our biggest backpacks and baskets and haul a big load back to store up for several days.

In the meantime, you’ve seen a little bit of the town and maybe a few little things that look interesting to explore.  Tomorrow.  It’s getting late and you’re tired and hungry.  Over dinner, you talk over the question:  “So, do we head out tomorrow or stay another day?”  A quick check of the weather and the currents tell you if it’s even possible, and then you have to ask yourselves if you WANT to leave so soon. 

These guys frolicked along with us for about 20 minutes before spotting a slow-moving fisherman with holes in his nets.

A day off (or two) is needed.  First of all, you haven’t visited the village / town at all, and isn’t that why you’re traveling in the first place? Secondly, it’s important to have a true down day from time to time, where you wake up in the morning with absolutely nothing urgent demanding your attention.  Those are few and far between, but oh so appreciated. Sometimes if the weather window is very narrow, your choices are either to leave the next day or to stay in port for days and days waiting for the next opportunity.


Today is one of those days.  See?  I’m posting photos and blogging !  I’ve skyped with my family.  The boat is clean, fully stocked with food and we’re just kicking back !  Very very necessary.  

Thursday, 6 August 2015

Summertime Blues

While the rest of France is under a heat wave, the north coast of Brittany seems to hover around 20 degrees and we haven’t had more than 3 consecutive days without rain.  Last week, the early morning temperature in the boat was 11 degrees C (that’s 52 F if you’re playing along in Fahrenheit).  I don’t care what anyone says, we put the heat on the next night. 

Gales every 48 hours (note the high-wind warning:  little sailboat being pushed over...)
The barometer says it all:  1004 hPa to 1020 hPa and back to 1004 hPa in 48 hours.  This is a gale coming through.  This hump is a permanent feature of the barometer since we get a gale every 3-4 days.  I have learned how to turn off the volume of the “high wind” alarm (charmingly visualized as a little sailboat being pushed over by wind).  Before I learned that little trick, I was up FIVE times during the night to acknowledge and shut down its wailing.

I also think I’ve become a bit jaded about sailing in places we’ve already visited.  There are some beautiful sights sailing around Brittany and the Islands but the fact that I’ve photographed the same cathedral / harbour / village / coastline only 2 years ago leaves me wondering what I could possibly say that would convey the enthusiasm it deserves and that I no longer feel.

Fort La Latte, a beautiful new anchorage for us.
We’ve also been thrashed about in a couple of near gales but we weren’t psychologically marked by them the way we were in the past and so I didn’t feel inspired to write about the events.  Perhaps it’s because we have a heavier, more stable boat that’s much higher in the water than Spray was, or maybe we’re just getting used to this kind of abuse. 

Balanced rock at the entrance of Tregastel, also a new mooring for us.

A beautiful anchorage in Tregastel in the middle of a jumble of rocks.

Tregastel Plage

Yesterday, we had 25 knots on the nose with apparent winds over 30 and choppy seas heading into the river port of Morlaix.  We sailed close-hauled with 2 reefs and the genoa rolled in halfway (e.g., not enough, in my opinion) until we got to the mouth of the river and had to wind our way through a very narrow channel.  The boat was absolutely caked in salt when we pulled in. A few days earlier, we had 3-4 meter swells with 20-25 knots of wind in the nose just north of Brehat island that prevented us from making the headway we had planned.  The delays led to a 2 knot current pushing us backwards so that we could only make about 2 knots of headway even with the motor helping, and we had to reroute to a river port (Treguier) that was close by.  That was 8 hours of sailing for only 20 miles of route.  I can WALK faster than that.
   
But the biggest blue spot of the summer has been health problems.  Patrick developed a little bump on his calf that grew rapidly and looked nasty.  He took advantage of a crew member with a car to go back home for a few days (mostly to pick up lots of things we forgot) and made an appointment with our family doctor.  The doctor sent him immediately to the dermatologist, who sent him immediately to a clinic to schedule surgery.  He had a carcinoma the size of a chick pea that was growing rapidly.  It’s not a melanoma or anything that spreads, but it needed to be cut out quickly while it was still just on the surface and not yet in the muscle.  A nice two-inch incision and 7 stitches later, we’re glad we didn’t wait any longer. 

The day after this discovery, my 100 ½ year old grandmother passed away.  This was no real surprise and it was, in fact, a relief.  I called her on her 95th birthday and told her how proud I was that she was still doing so well at her age.  She said, “Oh no, I’m not doing well at all !”  Alarmed, I asked her what was wrong.  “Well,” she said, “I don’t rightly know.  I just ain’t got no pep.”    At 98, with her joyful laugh and good humour, she said to me, “I don’t know why I can’t just die like other people.”  She had outlived everyone she ever knew.  Last year, she buried two sons. That was too much for her to handle and she went downhill very quickly after that. 

And since bad news always comes in 3s, my mother had some frightening blood pressure and cardiac complications after her knee-replacement surgery last week.  With modern technology like skype and mobile phones, time and distance never seem that big until a loved one is sick.  No amount of skyping can relieve the ache of being so far away and feeling so helpless and useless.  Patrick and I rerouted to a port where I could get a bus / train / plane to get home quickly if needed, but fortunately things stabilized.  Still, I would like to be with my family and the cool grey Breton drizzle makes me wonder what the hell I’m doing here.  

Monday, 3 August 2015

Hunting and Gathering

One of the pleasures of sailing is fishing.  I have to admit that we are not very good at it yet judging by the fact that we only ever catch mackerel and I don’t like mackerel. 

Our latest fishing expedition was in the Chausey Islands, the only islands in the Channel to remain French. 

Mareda in Chausey Sound (click on photo for larger image)

Winding our way through the Beauchamp pass at low tide.

Grande Ile, Chausey

We fish with a long trolling line towed behind the boat that has 6 hooks on it festooned with a combination of shiny and feathery things that drive mackerel wild.  A little diving board that looks like a cuttlefish bone makes the line plunge down beneath the surface a few meters as it is towed along.  When you catch something, the board comes up to the surface to indicate that there is something heavier than itself on the line (fish, seaweed, trash bag)  The boat speed needs to be under 4 knots and you need to be around coastal areas where mackerel like to hang out.

Then there’s the disturbing bit: what to do once you actually catch something. 

Jack with mack
The first time I fished in Brittany from a sailboat, we were 6 crew members and we caught 5 mackerel on a trolling line.  The skipper gave everyone but me (the only woman) a fish to kill, and each proceeded to apply his own technique.  The skipper swore by his method of banging the fish between the eyes with the winch handle.  Another whipped out his sailing knife and began sawing away, a bit surprised that the knife didn’t slip effortlessly through the poor beast’s skull.  With much tsk-tsk-tsking, another pulled out his knife and explained that the preferred method was to plunge the knife vertically down between the eyes, severing the brain stem, not unlike the coup-de-grace in a bullfight.  With one hand grasping the fish and the other carefully positioning the knife, he looked around helplessly for a third hand to actually do the plunging.  After several attempts to do it himself and with absolutely no help from the wriggling fish, he resorted to the sawing method of his predecessor.  The fourth crew member, apparently influenced by the skipper’s winch handle trick, simply banged the head of the fish directly on the winch, reasoning that any hard-angled edge should do the trick.  The last crew member took a more passive approach and decided it was best to just let the fish suffocate in a bucket of warm seawater.  The carnage in the cockpit was truly spectacular, and when the furore died down and calm returned, we surveyed the scene with a mix of disgust and pride.  The results: two dead (decapitated), two stunned-but-still-twitching, and one in its final death throes, gasping hopelessly for oxygen. 

A quick survey of the most humane way to kill a fish indicates that you must first stun the fish and then bleed it rapidly by cutting the gills or cut off its head.  Stunning alone does not kill the fish, and sawing off its head while it still has all its wits about it is frowned upon.  And if I were you, I’d watch my back when sailing with those passive-aggressive types who go in for slow suffocation.

Jack filets mack.  (You notice it's always Jack doing the icky bits ?)
My octogenarian friend Michel has a different method that appeals to me for a number of reasons.  It’s both barbaric and efficient, relatively bloodless, requires no tools, and if you beam your best southern belle peaches-and-cream smile while you do it, nobody’s gonna mess with you the whole rest of the cruise.  This is specific for mackerel but can probably be applied to any fish with a relatively small head.  In a bucket of water, you grab the fish with one hand and with the other, you place your index and middle fingers in the gills from below.  Placing your thumb on the fish’s head between the eyes, you simply push down with the thumb, pull up with the fingers in the gills, and using a quick wrist action, twist the fish’s head back, snapping its spine and severing the spinal column with one rapid snap.  You can hear it crack and death seems to be more-or-less immediate.  Bonus points if you can giggle and say “so cute!” while you do it.

So now you have a properly dead mackerel.  But you still don’t like mackerel, do you?  Here’s my marinade recipe for mackerel sushi that’ll make it all go down happily (quantities are approximate…):

3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon sweet soy sauce (teriyaki)
1 tablespoon sesame seed oil
1-2 teaspoons of wasabi paste
1 clove finely chopped or crushed garlic
1-2 teaspoons of fresh finely chopped ginger
Serve with sticky rice.  YUM !  (can’t even taste the mackerel now !)
        
And if hunting and fishing don’t appeal to you, “gathering” is nice, too.  These fellows found their way onto our plates straight from the fishmonger.



Sunday, 19 July 2015

Cruising the Dark Sky Country

While Jersey and Guernsey islands are rich in history and culture (you’ve all read the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, right?), the memories of our short visit have been quickly reduced to scones with clotted cream and jam, carrot cake, fish and chips, cheddar cheese, swanky shops along winding pedestrian streets, bus tours, rugged coastlines and lush hilly farmland with some of the most beautiful cows you’ve ever seen producing some of the richest ice cream you’ve ever tasted, and tax-free diesel for the boat.  

Sad, really.  Because we’d visited the islands only 2 years ago, there wasn’t much of a sense of discovery. 

But this time around, armed with a swing keel boat, we spend 2 days anchored off Sark Island.  In the mid 1500s, the island was granted as a fief to a Jersey nobleman by Queen Elizabeth I with the condition that he manage to keep the island pirate-free.

Mareda anchored in Derrible Bay (click on the image to see the panorama).
What makes a great pirate hide-out?  Bad weather, difficult navigation, numerous coves for anchoring with narrow passages protected by hull-shredding rocks, high cliffs to provide look-outs and strategic outposts, fresh water, game (rabbits and pheasants abound) and the all-important caves to hide booty.  Sark, in other words.  

The new Sark pirates (tougher than we look...)
Mareda in Derrible Bay, Sark.
As we wandered around the island, we kept seeing signs saying "welcome to a Dark Sky Community."  Strange, I thought, to actually advertise to tourists that it's always grey here.  After digging a bit deeper, we discovered that this distinction is given to communities with no light pollution, allowing for great astronomy. When the cloud cover permits, that is.

Mareda (2nd from left) in Dixcart Bay.  Derrible is prettier, but Dixcart is easier to debark with the dinghy.

Mareda goes it alone for the night in Dixcart.  Who's afraid of a little swell?

The cliff path up from Dixcart Bay.
We spent two days in lovely anchorages with few neighbors.  Apparently, the anchorages here are well-known to be a bit rough (swells), but we found it to be more or less comfortable in Derrible and Dixcart Bays with winds from the West to Southwest.  Next up:  the Chausey Islands and then on to St Malo for Mareda's first 50 hour motor tune-up and rigging tune-up. 

Havre Gosslin, the other good mooring on the island (but not good for westerlies)

Good place to hide booty.  Location undisclosed.

Local fishermen.

Local horses.

The precipitous pass between Sark and Little Sark.

This is what they call the main port.  I'll anchor out, thanks.

Town with ubiquitous tractor.  They pride themselves on not having cars on the island, but the bloody tractors are everywhere.



   

Monday, 13 July 2015

One month out

We’ve now been sailing and living aboard Mareda for one month.  We’ve sailed slowly around southern and northern Brittany and are now island hopping our way around the Channel Islands.  Time for a review of how things are going.

One month of laundry at Lezardrieux.  Is it still Bling ??
Performance:  We’re thrilled with this boat !  Fast, stable, smooth, easy to handle.  The twin helms provide excellent visibility and the twin rudders give great control in the water.  You never feel like the boat is on the verge of rounding up into the wind.  With the keel fully down (2m25) we can sail into the wind at about 35 degrees.  I’ve lifted the keel fully (1m10) when sailing downwind and it seems to give us an additional 0.2 knots of speed.  With the hard chines, the boat heels over about 15 degrees and then glides along happily.  When the wind gusts, you can feel and hear the sails tense, but the boat doesn’t heel over much beyond its 15 degrees. 

Mareda in St Helier, Jersey, Channel Islands

Pat and Jacko in Jersey.
We’ve only had to reef three times so far. The first time, we had 20 knots with gusts to 25 on a close reach.  We rolled in the genoa about ½ and put one reef in the main and she did beautifully – smooth and stable.  The single winch system (used for both the mainsail and genoa sheets) is no problem.  You just have to plan ahead for gybes (but don’t you always? heh heh heh…)  It’s always reassuring to have the mainsail sheet close at hand.

The wide stern gives the boat a see-saw motion with swell from behind rather than a rolling corkscrew motion.  While the see-saw motion is more “rodeo” than with rolling, I’m convinced that it is less seasickness-inducing.  That corkscrew motion on round-end boats gets nauseating fast.  The motor is more powerful than we imagined.  With smooth seas, we can get 6 knots at 2000 rpms.  At full-throttle we can get almost 8 knots.  However, the combination of the sail-drive system, twin rudders, and a boat that sits high in the water means that port manoeuvres are a wee bit stressful, like trying to park a car in a tight spot on sheet ice.  I suppose we’ll get used to it.  For now, our strategy is to put out lots of fenders !

Glad to be in port when it blows in Jersey.

Deck:  It’s clear that this boat was designed by sailors.  The hand holds and foot braces are right where you need them, even for shorties like me (5’4” or 1m63).  The cockpit is deep enough to feel protected but easy to climb out of to go forward.  We LOVE LOVE LOVE the fold-down stern that allows us to get in and out of the dinghy so easily.  Coupled with the davit and pulley system that allows us to launch and recuperate the dinghy with ease, this boat is made for island-hopping.  The fresh water hot/cold shower on the stern deck is fabulous, too.  The twin helms leave the central stern area open, so no more climbing over or around the helm to get from stern to cockpit.  Bliss.  The solar panels are powerful !  During the day, we can orient the panels to take best advantage of the sun and the batteries stay fully loaded even with the frige and pilot working all day.  We recently spent 5 days at anchor and had absolutely no energy problems. Solar panels make more sense than a wind generator, since you try to anchor in areas not exposed to the wind.  For a long and grey crossing, panels may not be the best option but you can always run the motor.  Better to run the motor during a crossing than have to do it at anchor, no?

Hoisting the English flag for entry into the Channel Islands.
We continue to have problems with the genoa furler.  It’s much too hard to pull in.  Patrick can do it without the winch, but it takes all his force.  We slacked the genoa halyard a bit and that helped some, but not enough.  In calm conditions, I can roll in the genoa without the winch, but at sea with the sail flapping, I can’t budge it.  We’ve tried changing the angle of the furler line between the drum and the cockpit, but it’s still not easy.  We’ve called the dealer and asked to have someone look at this. 

Other problems:

1) a thumb-sized chunk of metal is missing from the genoa sheet traveler.  We don’t know when or how that happened.  We’ve contacted our dealer about that one, too. 



2) The top batten worked its way out of its gouset and tore the sail a bit around the batten pocket.  I fixed it with a temporary patch and tightened the screws but it will need to be fixed properly. 



3) When sailing close hauled into the wind with the mainsail sheet pulled in tight, the mainsheet downhaul rubs against the back of the dodger.  We didn’t notice this until we found a hole in the canvas.  We’ll patch that one temporarily, too, but that’s just bad design.  I suppose we’ll have to move the downhaul forward a few centimetres but I’d prefer to have the dealer do it.



4)  One of the latches of the swim platform broke.  The other one holds well and has a spectra cord and jammer to hold it in as well, so we’re not in danger of the platform opening unexpectedly.  Still, needs to be fixed.

Patrick and I disagree about the spray hood.  I like it, he doesn’t.  It’s big enough to stand under without having to bend down, there are large panels everywhere (even in the roof) to give you excellent visibility (including looking up through the roof panel to see the mainsail as you’re winching).  I was concerned in the beginning that the side panels didn’t extend a bit into the cockpit to offer protection to a crew member trying to get out of the wind, but the spray hood so high and wide that the wind passes over and creates a shadow zone on either side.  With the helm on autopilot, the watch keeper can shelter under the spray hood on either side or lean against the cockpit table with a 360 view of everything that’s going on.  If your ass is small enough you can even sit on the table with feet braced on the companion way.  Patrick thinks the spray hood is too high.  He wants it optimized to just pass over his head.  This would reduce windage and maybe make port manoeuvres a bit easier, but I think the advantages outweigh this problem. 

One complaint is the lack of organization of all the lines under the spray hood.  We tried to keep each line neatly coiled and ready for use, but they invariably ended up looking like a big pile of multi-colored spaghetti.  We bought some organizers (those hook-type things) to keep the mainsail sheet and genoa furling line out of the mess and so far that’s helped keep things a bit more manageable.         

The false teak decks (made of a wood called iroco) is lovely and comfortable for bare feet but a bit slippery.  This is getting better with time.  It was probably treated with something that is slowly washing off. 

Interior:  We’re in a 5 star hotel here.  It’s beautiful, functional and spacious (relatively speaking, of course). There is lots of storage space although getting to some of the lockers requires patience and yoga positions.  The forward cabin is a huge open storage space (read: unholy mess).  I don’t like that situation but there’s no good solution.  We’ll have guests soon so we’ll have to spend a ½ day relocating all the stuff that has accumulated there.  Patrick’s tv and stereo systems are impressive.  We’re having torrential rains today and there are no leaks!   No complaints and neither of us misses home at all. 

Overall score: two enthusiastic thumbs up !  I had my doubts and snobberies early on about buying a production boat, but for now, we can’t imagine a boat that would meet our wishes and needs any better than the SO 379.


Jersey Ice Cream: worth the trip !