Treguier to Sark

Whilst we were loathe to leave Brittany, there were two weather windows that would be sensible to use to get us home. Today, Tuesday, was the first and would get us more or less to Guernsey some 50 nm to the north east, and the other will be on Friday to take us back to Dartmouth. Wednesday and Thursday are predicted to be very light winds and warm; perfect for anchoring and generally messing about on Sark; which we like.

We pulled away from the pontoon at 8 am on a falling tide, the current pushing us downstream to make an easy passage out of the river and estuary. A very tranquil departure in the early morning sun. David navigated and helmed, and I did the blog! We were interested in the wind angle once we were away from the land effects; would it take us to where we wanted to go?

As soon as we left the rocky outcrops that pepper the entrance to the Treguier river we spotted a couple of yachts that seemed to be heading in the same direction. We tightened the sails, put David on the helm and gave chase. We were perhaps a mile or so behind. After a while one yacht gave up and turned back (perhaps just a day sail) but the other pressed on, with us in pursuit.

Of course, they were no match for Liquid Asset and we overhauled them after about half an hour. David could not be prised off the helm whilst the chase was on, but as soon as we passed them, he asked if I would like to helm!

The challenge then was could we make Sark with the wind from the NE and the tide initially pushing us north? We knew the tide would change to bring us around and up through the passage between Guernsey and Sark, but would it be strong enough and early enough to give us the direction we needed.

The cooker is gimballed; Liquid Asset is not.

The answer was no. After many hours of very exciting close hauled sailing we put the engine on and turned towards Sark - our preferred anchorage for the night. The radio announced a strong wind warning. Due to the heat, there was a thunderstorm brewing with winds predicted to 35 kts. Time to push the engine revs up and head for Sark.

We could see the building storm approaching from the south of Guernsey heading north. Probably Sark was the better place to be. The strong winds warning said in the north of the area. Perhaps nearer to Alderney which was 15 nm to the north east of us.

We headed for Havre Gosselin where there were mooring buoys. We could see several boat already there, so we would have to see if there was a mooring buoy free. The entrance to the anchorage is quite open and would be an easy entry in slack water. With a fast tide running (can be around 6 kts) you point the boat probably 30 degrees from the direction you want as you crab sideways on the right course. Rocks on either side with a lot of breaking waves. You just hope the engine doesn't fail!

There were no mooring buoys available. You can anchor in amongst, but you have to be careful as you swing on the anchor chain and the moored boats don't. We decided to go an anchor at La Grande Greve, just to the south of Havre Gosselin, a bit more open, but lots of room.

We dropped the anchor in about 12 m quite close in for protection against the north easterly winds. David cooked spaghetti bolognese (not easy when the boat is rolling) and we generally tried to recover from an energetic sail in oppressive heat.

Treguier

The shore party was ready and prepared the dinghy for the short trip to the marina pontoons. The plan was to go and talk to the folks at the marina and pay for our overnight stay and then on to find some breakfast in town, and generally explore.

The Port Control office looked very modern and well organised and there was a nice welcome for us. He had his telescope trained on the back on Liquid Asset; probably ready to give chase had we departed without paying. Anyway, he was very nice and pointed out that the church was in fact a cathedral, and that's where centre ville was. So that's where we headed.

The town's centrepiece of course was the cathedral (14th and 15th century) surrounded by a series of very narrow streets, many of which were pedestrian only.

Found a spot overlooking the cathedral for breakfast (coffee, Croque Monsieur and Panini). Then a tour of the town, a failed hunt for a supermarket, a couple of beers and  back to the boat.

The afternoon was spent just mucking about on the boat and in the rib. I went ashore to find the harbour master to pay him for another night. Ran out of fuel half way there and rowed the rest. Blow me, his office was shut, so I had to row bak to the boat (as the tide was coming in - not easy) without accomplishing anything.

A second attempt, this time with fuel resulted in success.

We would stay there until the morning and then head for Guernsey to make the best use of the available winds.

So we had a lovely day in Treguier and a really good meal at one of the restaurants in the evening. Sadly full on English yachtsmen. You come all this way to taste the delights of France and that's what you get - bloomin' tourists!

Back to the boat late. Liftedthe dinghy onto the deck and made ready for an early departure to Guernsey in the morning. Another good day.

Morlaix to Treguier

We had decided that to go further west would be held back for another time (Chapter 3) and that we should begin sauntering in the general direction of home via the Channel Islands.

Today would be a motoring day, so it was helpful to have the tides in our favour. We dropped the mooring line at 1001 (low water) in 2 metres. Picked our way carefully through the entrance markers and set a course towards les Sept Iles. A hot and lazy day with not a great deal to report. Apart from one minor incident.

David had been studying the charts and looking for somewhere to anchor for an hour or two for lunch. Ploumanac was the chosen spot. A trick entrance that dries at low water (!) opening out into a deeper basin where yachts can keep afloat at all states of the tide. As you come in you are surrounded by very oddly formed rocks, beautiful, but still rocks. The navigator was fine (David) but the owner was taking fright. Not wishing to sound arrogant, but definitely a place for smaller yachts. My concern was getting to a point of no return where I could't turn around. So I did a very quick about turn and motored out. Fortunately no one there to witness the shame!

Not Liquid Asset

We motored on (lunch on the move) and headed to Treguier. A river and a town about 5 or 6 miles up river. Much easier to navigate.

We played about anchoring in a very nice "hole" below the mansion on a bend in the river, but with swinging room and a 5 metre tidal range, I would have had one of those anchor watch night with no sleep. Delightful as it was, we tied up (messily) to the waiting pontoon near the marina. We had it to ourselves. The marina office was shut, so this was a good option.

A visit to town was on the cards for the morning, but for tonight it was a very off pork curry with courgettes and basmati rice (stocks are dwindling), and off to bed.

River Morlaix

Looking back at the way we came in

After the rain and winds of last night, we awoke to a cloudless day, still and very warm. Today would probably be as far west as we would go, so we decide to stay around for the day and enjoy what the local town had to offer. It was Saturday, we were just a week out from Dartmouth.

We saw as we came in the previous night that the town of Carantec was on the far side of the headland we were sheltering under, so we knew we were in for a significant voyage - in the rib. We had plenty of fuel, so no problem there. Locked the boat, donned the life jackets as usual, and headed off. We found the jetty at the far end of the beach, and tied up there. We knew the tide was coming in, so moved the boat right up the jetty and tied on to a lamp post.

The church spire pinpointed centre-ville just a few hundred yards away up the hill. A very tidy and obviously wealthy area. All the houses were well maintained and usually with beautiful gardens. The town centre was equally attractive. We found where they were serving coffee, and joined in with the French. Neither of us had brought any cash, so we asked where there was a cash point (well we waved a card at the proprietor) and he took David there.

David had spotted a creperie and since we hadn't tried these we thought we would give it a go. They had a beautiful garden at the back of the restaurant with views out over the sea. We had fallen on our feet. David went for fruits de mer, and I had sauscisson avec moutarde de l'ancienne. Sausage with mustard past its sell by date in a pancake? A bit odd, but very nice.

Back to the dinghy by way of the bar on the beach for a couple of beers. We were definitely in holiday mode, and thoughts of going sailing today were fading fast.

I settled up with the (smiley) waitress only to find David playing volley ball on the beach with some youngsters. David, in his youth, played for national junior volley ball squad of Scotland. A star in our midst?

Back into the dinghy and back to the boat so an afternoon of rest and recuperation after a hectic morning. We had bought a baguette and some smelly runny cheese. So we poured a small glass of Cabernet and had a very nice after lunch lunch.

Some domestic duties - washing and draping it all around the boat. We must have looked fantastic - but it was the perfect drying day!

We were going to go back into town for the evening in search of moules et frites. We went the other way around the headland - we figured it was less bumpy and a shorter distance.  Very shallow. Having learnt from previous trips we lifted the dinghy right up a very long beach and tied it carefully around a rock. Safe and secure, or so we thought!

Quite a long walk into town this way and very hot. Town seemed shut, and we didn't want to go to the same place as before, so we went to the beach on the other side. Beer, moules, frites. Perfect.

Google maps provided a shorter route back to the dinghy. When we got there the water had gone. If you have ever been to Blackpool you will know what I mean. The dinghy was certainly secure, but a very long way from any navigable water. And it was not just a nice sandy beach, it was black oozy mud. David carried the engine and fuel can and I dragged the rib. It was horrible. Sinking up to your knees in mud, and not really knowing what was down there! Eventually got to the water, and launched. It was still very shallow, and we had to push the boat out into deeper water with the oars and the engine churning up the mud. We got back to the boat, had some malt and retired.

Lesson? Check which way the tide is going.

Port Blanc via Les Sept Iles to Morlaix River

Breakfast on deck as usual, and then dropped to mooring line. The weather was overcast, a contrast with what we have seen before, and there was clearly a little more wind. We were able to put up the main and sail out of the wide entrance to the harbour.

We had no particular plans, other than to push a little further westwards; there were plenty of locations to anchor or moor along the coast. Our reference guide was the "Secret Anchorages of Brittany" by Peter Cumberlidge. Chapters went from east to west, and we had jumped in at chapter 2 - Paimpol to Roscoff. I was chatting with someone in St Helier and they had the same book - so not so secret!

Once we had all the sails out and sailing best course to windward on a port tack, we found we were just pointing to the east of east most of the Les Sept Iles. This is a bird sanctuary; you cannot land. Clearly occupied by several thousand pairs of gannets. Not quite on the Grassholm scale but impressive nonetheless. Studying the charts, there was an anchorage at the most westerly end (Ile aux Moins and Ile Bono). A lot of tacking to get there, but great fun, and we needed the exercise.

There was one other boat there, but a very large mooring buoy that the other boat owner pointed us towards. David picked up the line with no difficulty and we were secure for lunch. Pork pie, coleslaw; hardly French!

We were towing the dinghy (how tacky) so David rowed ashore to have a look at the lighthouse. After he left a rather lovely old yacht called the Saint Guirec sailed in. Had I taken its mooring spot? Normally the French would let you know, but they quietly dropped the anchor. Clearly a tourist trip as it disgorged a large number of perhaps rather elderly folk onto the slipway (well we are rather elderly too).

Saint Guirac

David reappeared and rowed back to the mother ship. He reported it was all rather barren and dilapidated, but the seascape/landscape was spectacular.

We slipped the mooring, put up the sails and tacked west. I had spotted an anchorage that would be protected by from the westerly winds some 20nm away; the river Morlaix. The winds picked up, and backed so we shortened sail to something more comfortable; we were not in a hurry and we had no one to race. At one point we were trying to pass some submerged rocks and were pointing as high as we could. We could see some pots right on our course. Dropping below them would have been the best option, but we tried to get past on the high side. We were hooked. We backed the main to bring her to a standstill and the lines floated away - close shave.

We sailed on in an increasing wind. When about 6nm from our destination we put the engine on (we needed the batteries charging anyway, but had had enough). The entry to the river Morlaix is well marked but I would not want to do this at night. There was no one there (always a bit of a worry). Eventually we found our way in and found a rather large mooring buoy in about 4m. We were at low tide. Reversed up to it and tied on with a line fed aft from the bow. We swung the boat around and tightened up. A good manoeuvre practised many times in Salcombe.

The timing was good. It started raining heavily, but we were secure and out of swell and wind. David was in the chef's chair and did a fantastic meal with sausages, sweet potatoes, squash and goodness know what else. With a nice Cabernet and (for some reason) with the sounds of the Mamas and the Papas it was perfect.

Another very good day.

Lezardrieux to Port Blanc

An easy night on the pontoon. Rather glad we stayed away from the marina since it was bathed in bright lights all night. Security one assumes, but not nice.

We launched the dinghy and headed off to the slipway. We planned to shop in Lezardrieux. But first the obligatory coffee and croissant in the cafe. They did the coffee OK, but pointed to the boulangerie for croissant. Anyway, all very nice. Some shopping in the supermarche, another trip to the boulangerie for bread for lunch and then back to the boat.

We cast off at about 11 to head for an anchorage to the south of Isle de Trehat called la Chambre. We needed to charge batteries so motored slowly. Lots of boats in the anchorage, We dropped the hook in amongst them and had a great lunch; fresh bread, pate, saucisson - and a glass of white wine (what decadence on a boat!). Note the anchor ball. Only one other boat showing the at anchor sign. That's David!

La Chambre

The plan was to sail with the falling tide further west to Port Blanc, a tiny natural harbour about three hours away. We thought there would be no wind, but probably a funnelling effect down the river entrance gave us great entertainment tacking back and forth and racing the French. Naturally we overhauled them, and only a couple of caught sheets around the centre cleat prevented us from overtaking them; they could see the futility of the fight, and bore away with a friendly wave.

As soon as we entered to open water, the wind fell away, but we had tide with us made good speed towards our destination with 2000 rpm. Very hot. Had showers en route and plenty of water. Nothing other than a couple of fishing boats. Les Sept Isles off to the starboard side 10 nm away. A bird sanctuary apparently. Tarte au Pomme with cup-a-soup. Decadence!

We found the entrance to Port Blanc. If you didn't know it was there you would go right past. Lots of boats in there, but as we have come to learn in these parts at this time of year, no one about. We picked up a visitors mooring - nicely adorned with a line. David swam, I prepared dinner. Coquilles Saint-Jacques a la Breton with new potatoes and a Chardonnay. Fabulous.

Port Blanc

Over dinner we discuss plans for tomorrow. For orientation if we draw a line due north where does it intersect the UK coat. Answer is Exeter, We feel we are a long way from home, bit actually only 88nm, a long day's sail.

All good news for the trip home. We are watching the weather of course. Our plan is to head further west, and when ready will make a jump for the UK coast. But that's days away!

Lezardrieux

At 6 am the anchor alarm went off. Odd. I have calculated the minimum depth to be 5m. So we were both up reviewing the calculations. Both of us had done our Yachtmaster certificate a couple of years ago; we were very familiar with all the calculations; what was going on? As we watched the depth, slow increase, it suddenly lost another metre and we were down to 3.1m.

Liquid Asset's instrumentation includes a plot of the depth over time. Studying this we could see what had happened. As the tide tuned at high water, the trace blipped; it suddenly became deeper. Clearly the bottom was shelving  and as the boat swung on the anchor we were either into deeper of shallower water. We were fine, but it does make you question your own abilities.

Next issue. Up comes the anchor and we have a lobster pot with lines. The hazard of course in the location we had chose to anchor. Local fishermen could see what was happening (after all they were the culprits), and came to help us recover the situation. This was not a crab pot in fact but a very large lobster pot - obviously by its state, not used.

Once clear we headed for Lezardieux. A very leisurely trip up river, all with wooded banks and craggy rocks. Lots and lots of boats moored. We eventually arrived at the marina, which we didn't fancy, but there were mooring buoys and a long empty pontoon. The pontoon won. Having tied up the boat we blew up the rib, strapped on the motor and off we went to the shore. We were welcomed by a local - so good so far for our first sortie onto French soil. The harbour office was shut, but the bar/restaurant was open and doing a good trade. So we had lunch. Beer, poisson fumee, cassoulet provencale. Delicious. Only let down by a rather surly bar mail. But nevertheless a great start.

We headed for town. It was shut, but held a promise for the following day.

On the way back to the boat in the rib, we took a detour up river to the road bridge. It was very hight, but Liquid Asset would not go under it (maybe a low tide, and with everyone standing on one side).

Back to LA for Ozark Mountain Daredevils and a an impromptu snooze. Dinner was the annual kedgeree (not a bad one), lots of chat, and off to bed for a peaceful night. Another good day.

Jersey to Brittany

We woke to a lovely morning, a complete contrast to the previous day. Clear blue sky and no wind.

Annie's flight back was not until late, and our trip that day was short, so we planned a late departure. The sill dictates of course, and the latest we could leave was perhaps 1430. A departure of around 1330, with refuelling, would get us to Brittany to anchor sometime in the early evening. Our target was the Trieux river and an anchorage off the mainland opposite Isle de Brehat.

We had resigned ourselves to motoring to Brittany. Its not that far from Jersey, perhaps 30 miles, but the wind was purported to be on the nose, and very light. We were delighted to find we could sail close hauled, and with about 10 kts we were doing a very respectable 7-8 kts over the ground in the right direction! Liquid Asset does sail beautifully with all the sails out hard on the wind.

We made all sorts of new assumptions about arrival time... and then the wind disappeared. We perhaps sailed 10 of 30 nm - certainly a bonus, but still a lovely relaxing trip.

The approaches to the Trieux river are very strange, particularly at low tide. If you didn't have a navigable passage marked out you would keep well away. Craggy rocks all over the place. If you can envision a flooded lunar landscape then that's what it looked like. Surreal.

We found our anchorage. Not at all what we have expected. We had pictured somewhere like the Fal, wooded coastline, snug. None of it. We were right smack dab in the middle of the lunar landscape, feeling very exposed. Normally you hope to have an anchorage to yourself. In this case we felt like we were in the wrong place, it was absolutely deserted. What was worse was that it was strewn with crabbing pots. I am convinced that those that lay lobster pots particularly like doing this in what otherwise would be a perfectly safe anchorage. More on that tomorrow!

Well were were not going looking for alternatives, so we went into shallow water a little away from the lines, and dropped the anchor (in about 7 metres - we were two hours after low water with a range of 7). Having checked all the maths around secondary ports in France in summer, we were happy.

David cooked venison. Fantastic. Settled down to a very peaceful night at anchor - set the alarm for minimum depth to 4 m and went to bed.

St Helier in the Rain

We are here to sit out a 24 hour blip in the weather before heading toward Brittany, some 40 miles away to the south west. The last time I was here on a yacht was on a very badly maintained Moody 34 some 15 years ago. We of course have been here many times for work, both Annie and I, with Bank Cantrade.

Well, what a lovely surprise then to find Annie jetting in for a short break, or was it a crew inspection? She had got up at 0400 to make the flight from Birmingham arriving in Jersey at 0930. David and I met her at the bus station. She would be with us for just 24 hours; we were departing for Brittany on the Tuesday.

Messed about all day in St Helier. The obligatory purchases from the chandlers and the off license, lunch in town, a wander around the lovely market; mostly in the rain, but with the weather improving as the day wore on.

For the first time on this trip I was on galley duty for the evening meal. With two "experts" in the dish I was cooking I had to negotiate a careful path through differing opinions on sequencing and temperature. The result was Chicken and Chorizo a la committee, and it was jolly good!

Sark to Jersey

Awoke to a glorious morning in one of my favourite spots. Our plan was to head to St Helier to fuel up before we jumped off toward Brittany. There was a blip in the weather which suggested staying in Jersey for two nights. I am no fan or marinas, especially on trips like this - my hunch was justified!

But before all of that, a delightful sail down the east coast of Sark. 6 kts of wind, 2kts boat speed. Sailing well, but going nowhere. Just perfect. We knew that the tide would turn at about 1400 to take us south to Jersey, so in the meantime, what do you do? Anchor, have lunch and go swimming!

La Coupee, Sark

We tacked our way carefully through the rocks and put the anchor down in 8 metres in Baleine Bay immediately below the high "bridge" between Sark and Little Sark.

Track of Liquid Asset - Marine Traffic

David, being David announced he was going swimming. Once uttered, there was no turning back. You must be mad I said, the water is freezing. Rather than appearing on deck clad in trunks, a rubber vision appeared. He had donned the wet suit (kept in the bottom of a deep locker for those "rope around the prop" moments. The clue about wet suits is that they get wet, unlike dry suits. And the wet comes from that very icy water. The picture below is David on the way out - looking triumphant; the one I won't show you is on the way in (somewhat less so).

David; Musto Man

We pulled up the anchor and set off for what looked like a very leisurely sail down to St Helier, so 4 hrs away. Whilst we had the tide with us, and the wind on beam what we hadn't reckoned on was a sever bout of wind over tide as the wind picked up to a healthy 18 kts. So we shorted sail and hung on.

Whilst we had organised the tide to work to our benefit on the passage, it worked against us entering the harbour at St Helier. We arrived at low tide, and of course (for those that check) entry is across a sill and this is possible perhaps 2 hrs after low water. And while you wait, you get to raft up - 6 or 7 deep!

What chaos. Fine probably in an English port, but in a Channel Islands port with an even mix of Belgians, French and English, it was not a relaxing time. The Frenchman on the inside in a big gin palace decide he wanted to leave, whether his ropes we untied or not. So suddenly he was taking us all for a trip, with me on the outside. Solution? Put the engine of and offer a counter force. Well it sounds unconventional but it save the day.

One good reason to avoid marinas

And of course, when the water is adequate to cross the sill, everyone bolts for it. I am not going to St Helier ever again!

Dartmouth to Sark

Up at 6 with a departure in mind for 7. We were well prepared. The boat was full of water, gas and fuel (well half a tank to be precise, more than enough to get to the Channel Islands, where it is half the price of Dartmouth). Bit of a grey morning which was a surprise after such a glorious day the previous day, but there was a noticeable breeze.

We cast off at 7 and tootled slowly out of the marina. The lower ferry was the only obstacle and we skipped past easily.

I thought stripes were slimming?

After a little motoring, we put up the sails, and were immediately whisked off towards the Channel Islands. Our target was Sark; we know some great spots to anchor or moor. Our general plan was to explore the Brittany coast, but to do this in a single hop would mean an overnight passage. Fine normally, but short handed approaching an unfamiliar coast when tired was not sensible. We like Sark and the Channel Islands, so a few days mucking around there would get the trip off to a good start.

We sailed pretty much all day. With 14 kts of wind on the starboard beam the boat sailed beautifully. Other than tankers and cargo ships in the shipping lanes we saw no one. The shipping lanes were no problem. Plenty of ships, but with AIS it is easy to miss them. We figured that you would need to sail 100 times across the lanes blindfold before you hit anything. Some pretty ropey mathematical assumptions upon which you rely at your peril.

As the day wore on the weather began to change. A sea mist is probably the best way to describe it; it kept coming and going. When it was with us visibility reduced dramatically. There was a yacht passing behind us under half a mile away (we could tell with the AIS), and we saw no sign of it. We saw nothing of Guernsey or Sark until we were right on top of them. The fog lifted to reveal a surreal vision of islands shrouded in mist, but with glorious sunshine. We headed to la Greve de la Ville on the north east side, well out of the westerlies.

I had expectations of being at anchor, and therefore a sleepless night. We were pleased to see a vacant visitors mooring buoy, quit close in, but with plenty of water. David hooked us on easily, and managed to hold onto the boat hook – this time!

First night out it had to be fish pie! Bob, our missing crew member was with us in spirit...!

Dartmouth Preparations 2015

Hello again from Liquid Asset. We are about the depart on a two week trip. Here are the facts for this year.

The crew is David and I. Bob unfortunately has not been able to join us this time, so he will be sadly missed. But a great opportunity to talk about him.... more on that later.

As I write this, David is travelling south from Carlisle on the train. I am on the boat having come down last night. No Annie. She is suffering from acute hay fever and is very annoyed to have missed our departure, and of course this lovely weather.

Liquid Asset is, of course, in tip top condition. She was lifted in March, hull polished, engine serviced etc. The life raft was serviced (needs to be done every three years), so we are in good shape. Safety is paramount of course with all sailing, but we are a little short handed this time so need to be very careful. Man overboard drill is important; only having one person on board to pull out the other makes it very difficult. The trick is not to go overboard!

Liquid Asset prior to departure

The weather situation is looking pretty good. Settled, with a couple of fronts coming through. Synoptic Charts

The high off to the west, and moving to centre over Spain is giving is steady westerly winds of 10-15 knots. This tells us we sail south, and the likelihood is we will head initially for the Channel Islands, or perhaps an overnight passage to the north Brittany coast.

Source Windguru

David arrived on the 1525 from Carlisle. First job was to head for Sainsbury to stock the boat. All carried out very efficiently. Stowed, beer on deck and dinner in Dartmouth, primarily discussing plans for the trip. Our intended departure was at 0700 heading for Guernsey or Sark.