Thursday 6 – Wednesday 12 June
Paimpol – Morlaix
Following the local knowledge of our Saltimbanques friends, we slipped easily through the ‘free flow’ lock out of the lovely city of Paimpol, to explore the stunning scenery of the Ferlas channel and Ile de Bréhat. Basking in bright sunshine, the ‘granit rose’ pinkish sandstone rocks were bathed in a deep blue sea reflecting a clear sky – very Baltic, except for the current carrying us along at 3-4 knots. As we came out into the almost Atlantic swell, interspersed with areas of rips and eddies caused by shallow patches on the seabed, we turned into a cold breeze almost on the nose, that was too light to sail without Trevver’s help.
A couple of hours later we were at the entrance to the long, wide estuary of the River Jaudy that leads eventually to Tréguier. As with much of this coastline, the area is a rich producer of oysters and mussels, and fish farms are also in evidence. Fortunately we’d dropped and stowed the mainsail just in time, for, just like two days earlier as we made the final approach to Paimpol, the weather gods had other ideas and a big black cloud of squally wind and hailstone force rain swept across us, rendering forward visibility almost nil. Slaloming between fishing pot marks, once again the last hour was the worst, but eventually we made it upriver as far as the red No 10 buoy, recommended as a sheltered anchorage on the bend beneath the chateau.
The fun wasn’t over yet, though: as we went through the process of setting the anchor, the outgoing tide drifted us back over the trip line, and the prop’s rope cutter did a neat job of separating 15 metres of rope from the bright orange anchor float buoy, depositing the former seven metres down on the riverbed, and leaving the latter to drift off serenely downstream. As we were unhappy that the anchor was properly dug in anyway, we decided to execute a quick man overboard procedure to retrieve the buoy, resign ourselves to the need (excuse?) for another visit to a local ‘shipchandler’, and make a second, successful, attempt at pinning ourselves to the spot.
We’d chosen this anchorage as a peaceful and sheltered spot to sit out the latest bout of strong winds, and we stayed onboard during Friday while they blew themselves out across the top of the valley above us. As usual, our strong and silent crewmember, our trusty Spade 30kg anchor, held us securely to the same spot on the riverbed.
Saturday was much calmer, and we extracted our pretty new tender, l’arrêt, from her quarters in the sail locker, pumped her up good and plump, and swung her over the side to the boarding point at the stern. The new engine, barely used since purchase in Guernsey in the autumn of 2017, performed below par as we headed upstream to explore ashore, but we got there safely, and tucked in amongst a fleet of Boréal yachts, another aluminium hull brand we’d briefly considered before opting for Allures. Tréguier is their home port, and we took the opportunity to have a good look at the similarities and differences. Needless to say, we still wouldn’t swap our beautiful l’Escale for anything else.
We spent a pleasant hour strolling around this attractive small town, admiring the mediæval buildings in the main square, and the cavernous interior of the Gothic cathedral of St Yves, whose bells played a different tune every quarter hour. Its steeple features fretwork to allow wind to flow through. Back near the marina, we browsed the temptations in the EcoCoop, stocking up on a few organic essentials for the next few days.
After an unrestful night, we set off for Trébeurden, in disappointingly light winds that necessitated motorsailing the whole passage. We wove our way among the pink granite rocks and white sandy bays of tiny islets, before lining up for the narrow gap to cross the sill into the marina. Suddenly we were basking in t-shirts and shorts in complete shelter, but it didn’t last long and was windy and wet (again) overnight and into Tuesday morning, such that we decided to forgo market day. As the afternoon dried up a little – only intermittent showers – we strolled up the hill, chatting with our English neighbours from nicknack, to find the essentials in a more civilised Intermarché than that in Paimpol.
On Sunday we waited for the tide to take us back down to the sea, and onward 15M to Port Blanc, where we picked up a visitor’s buoy, but no fees, and enjoyed the local dinghies and catamarans out racing. As expected, it was not the calmest of berths, with a little swell causing rolling, whilst heavy rain beat a tattoo on the cabin roof.
Wednesday was a very early start, away at first light to clear the sill before the tide dropped below it, and a challenging crosswind added extra challenge to our departure. In the competent and calm hands of Skipper we managed not to hit anything or pick up any new dings and scratches, but it wasn’t to be one of our better days. Mate eventually got all the fenders stowed, and we were able to set the mainsail with first reef, but the sea was very rolly and unpleasant. Jimmy Bucket was called into service even before 0800, but things settled a little when we changed course and sail plan, to just the staysail.
the arches…”
Just before 1000 we dropped anchor amongst the oyster beds in the estuary approaching Morlaix, to await sufficient rise of tide to attempt the narrow and shallow channel up to the lock in the town centre. There was just time for breakfast before we enjoyed a gentle potter under genoa almost to the lock, which was open waiting for us to motor straight in. We were met by friendly, helpful harbour staff, who took our lines up the wall and handed over a welcome pack. Once we had risen the metre or so to the level of the basin, they walked us to our berth on the quay wall, under the looming shadow of the huge double-decker viaduct that dominates the town centre.