Our first sail of the year

Departure time

A few days later, with most of our jobs done and a real urge to get moving again, we joined four or five other boats in the Arzal lock and dropped from the freshwater impoundment down into the salty and silty estuary of the Vilaine river.

It was a lowish tide and the brown slick water merged almost seamlessly with the brown, slick mud banks. As a consequence, it was nice to have a boat or two ahead of us, to feel the way out along the couple of miles of winding channels to the sea. They only got stuck once.

Once out on the open water we readjusted the stern gland and the set sail with a following wind and sunshine SW towards Noirmoutier. The light winds made the going very pleasant but slow enough that, as we drew abreast of Le Croisic, we decided that we had done enough for the day and turned back NE and into the bay. Here, in the shelter of Pointe du Croisic, we anchored about 500m offshore in a 4m of water and had a very pleasant night.

Lazy sailing

The next day, we dragged ourselves reluctantly out of our gently rocking bed and lazily got about the business of departing.

Again, it was a sunny day with just a light breeze to push us along and so we sailed along at a leisurely 3-5kt. Off St Nazaire we crossed the commercial shipping channel that leads into the Loire River, and ultimately up to Nantes, before turning to the SE and making for Pointe des Dames on the NE corner of île de Noirmoutier where we anchored in 4m about half a mile offshore. This spot was a bit more rolly than the previous night’s but it was still entirely comfortable and pleasantly alone.

Foggy sailing

The next morning didn’t so much dawn as creep reluctantly into daylight. A thick fog lay wet and close over the sea reducing our visibility to just a 100m at times. With no wind what-so-ever we motored off with both the AIS and radar providing back up to our eyes and ears. As we passed between L’Herbaudière and its skerries the slightest of breezes showed up and continued to build until, just of the east danger mark off Port Morin, we were able to put up the sails and head off on a broad reach to the SW.

A few tacks later and we decided to see if we could remember how to set the boat up to goosewing (or ‘melkmeisje’ for the Dutch). Well, our memories were hazy so it took a bit of faffing around before finally we had the sheets, guys, preventers and topping lift all run correctly but once done, off we went at a very pleasing clip and for the next nine hours sailed happily dead down wind through seeming endless fog.

Briefly back in Les Sables d’Olonne

Just before 1900, and a bit before Les Sables d’Olonne came into sight, the fog lifted and we were able to watch the city rise up from the sea in the sunset light. At the southern danger marker we dropped the sails, turned into the channel and motored up to the reception dock. Here we were assigned a berth and just after 2130 we were moored up on the hammerhead on D finger. Despite the fact that it was only going to be a brief visit, it was good to be back in Les Sables.

No sailing, but motoring

After a late arrival, we decided to have a relaxed morning and leave around midday. With barely enough wind to scuff up the sea surface we motored out of the harbour and then SW along the coast.

A few keen sailors were already out on the water, their sails hanging limply or filled just enough to push them ever so slowly along.

How big is your marina exactly?

The day passed easily enough for us as we puttered along. In the afternoon we passed inside île de Ré where once again we came across a few sailing boats listlessly wandering to and fro in the soft breeze.

Eventually, at the SE end of the island, we passed under the bridge from the mainland and, passing inside the Lavardin rocks, turned into the channel leading into La Rochelle and from this into Les Minimes Marina.

This is an intimidating place. A vast expanse of masts and boats covering three huge basins. Apparently along its maze of narrow channels and closely packed pontoons there is room for over 5000 boats of up to 30m length! Crazy.

Off to the visitor pontoon out the back

As luck would have it, and as we fully expected, the time that the wind chose to arrive and to do so with gusto was now, just as we were about to engage in some close quarters manoeuvring in amongst a whole lot of what suddenly looked like very expensive boats. We successfully completed the first (very simple) manoeuvre, getting onto the reception dock, and while Frederieke went off to deal with the harbour master, I spent my time praying quietly that they would let us stay here on the reception pontoon. Sadly, no one was listening to my prayers and we were sent off down to the visitor’s pontoons off in the back corner of the marina, near the beach and restaurants (that part could be far worse!).

We slowly motored down the appropriate lane, turned right and then turned into our allocated alley, a bit of water maybe 10m wide (Yuma is just under 12m long) and pushed along by the wind, looked for a vacant berth that we could get into. This promised to be tricky as we had to maintain steerage against the wind as we turned across it into the berth without hitting anyone and… Well, the tension was high but it all went well: no boats were hit, not pontoons rammed, no damage was even close to being done. With some help from a couple of blokes who were chatting on the pontoon we were soon tied up snuggly and ready to tidy up the boat and ourselves.