Across the Bay of Biscay

After four days at Chateaulin, the rain and wind finally stopped and we emerged from our hiding spot. On our way back down the riverin the daylight,we got a better view of the warships– eight or nine of them, decommissioned and seemingly abandoned at the side of the river, one complete with missile launchers. Would make a great sale item for Whittons auction rooms!

abandoned warships on river Aulne

We spent the night at Camaret, then sailed around the headland to Morgat. The sun came out in honour of Hazel’s birthday and we had a lovely picnic on deck, the children very excitedly firing party poppers at me! 

Happy Birthday to me!

Once anchored, we launched the dinghy and kayak and went exploring the many sea caves along the coastline. They are impressive enough to see from afar but it’s hard to visualise the scale of them until you see a 40-foot trip boat full of people disappear inside one!! We nosed our way in after the trip boat had left, it was fun to paddle into the darkness and feel the temperature drop but I couldn’t help thinking about the weight of all those stone slabs waiting to fall above us…

Katie entering one of the caves at Morgat

Inside the caves

From Morgat, we upped anchor again and set off round the notorious Raz de Sein. This is a channel around a pointed headland, where the mass of water rushing between the headland and the offlying Ile de Sein creates a tidal race stronger than Exmouth docks, and massive overfalls. The trick is to pass at exactly slack water, as the tide changes from flowing from one direction to the other.

Sadly, we misjudged our timing (after a 14-mile sail to the headland) and arrived half an hour too late for slack water. There wasn’t much wind thankfully, but the spring tides soon brought a five-knot flow of water against us and it felt like we were in a force 6 or more as the sea picked up to give us a very choppy, rolly ride. Reuben was rather impressed by the size of the waves! It was reassuring to see several other boats transitting at the same time as us, and also being thrown around. Dave upped the engine revs to nearly full power but it still took an hour and a half to travel the three miles past the lighthouses. We were very glad to emerge on the other side, where the water miraculously became still once more.

Beach at Audierne

Sand Angels

Our next stop was Audierne, I recall the name from our last trip, but have no memory at all of the town. From the sea, all you can see are a mass of newly-built holiday houses around a long white sandy beach and lighthouse, but upriver, there is a more traditional old French town. It was a major harbour in the 15^th century, being the only natural refuge along the coast, and was a busy trading port, with links to Holland, Spain, England and Newfoundland. It had a later revival in the early 19^th century around the langoustine fishing industry, and the shells of some of the 30-odd fish-canning factories can still be seen.

Brilliant museum at Audierne

Old houses, Audierne

David spoke to the harbourmaster, who agreed to let us have a night in the harbour and dry out against the wall the following day. He gave us a special deal for a ‘vieux greement’ (classic boat). This is only the second night we have paid to moor, everywhere else we have anchored for free. We came alongside at the 5am high tide, and as the water receded, Dave and Katie scraped the barnacles off the bottom. This was a much easier job as the fresh water from the river Aulne had killed off all the growth. Otherwise, they cling on pretty tight.

Dried out at Audierne

All hands to the job!

During the day, we had lots of people stop by to admire the boat and ask about it, anda journalist interviewed us for a piece in the local paper. We were allowed to moor for another night alongside the town’s own ‘vieuxgreement’, the Cap Sizun, and the mayor said we are welcome back to his town any time. This good feeling may have lessened somewhat after Katie & Reuben took to firing their bow and arrow at the jolly group having drinks on the ‘Cap Sizun’, but they were all too polite to voice it…

Alongside ´Cap Sizun´, spring tides washing over the shore.

Big Chief Katie!

Winds were forecast from the north-east all week so we took the plunge and set off the following evening for the three-hundred and twenty mile trip across the Bay of Biscay. With a clean bottom and following seas, we made it in 61 hours (three nights and two days).

This was the children’s first long trip, so we were anxious to see how they fared. We all took a seasickness tablet on the first day, which obviously worked, as nobody was sick, but they seem to make you ridiculously tired. Katie spent much of the trip sleeping, laying in until late and laying down a lot in the daytime. She didn’t eat much for breakfast or lunch but then had a ravenous appetite by teatime. The second day, she had a ´lazy day´ and didn´t bother changing out of her pyjamas! Reuben was his normal chirpy self, just a little sleepy the first day. 

Lazy day DVD!

Ready for night watch

The first day out is always tough while your body adjusts to the motion of the boat, as well as forcing yourself to stay awake for two three-hour night watches. The first night was very gusty, and while Dave took the first watch, I lay below trying to sleep, but finding it impossible. I was listening to the hum of the prop shaft free-spinning and accelerating according to the wind, and thinking we should probably have taken in the topsail. At one stage, we touched over ten knots under sail alone!

It was a relief to come up and take my watch and stopping my brain whirling. The boat was surging along, the sea was lit up by a nearly full moon, with clear starry skies, it was a real pleasure to sit out and experience it. And by the end of three hours, I was so tired that I had no trouble at all sleeping. Only to be woken again three hours later… at least I was rewarded with a beautiful sunrise, and a lone sighting of a dolphin alongside.

Sunrise at sea

What do you see in the clouds? Dinosaur eating a giant cheerio, or two people on a magic carpet looking into a magic portal?? Or a lion eating penguins?

 

Reuben woke early one morning and joined me in the wheelhouse, bouncing around excitedly while he explained all the intricacies of the Blue Spiderman Hand Gang and the Purple Hand Gang (friendly rivals in his class at school!) for a full forty minutes or so!

During the day, Dave and I took turns to catch up on sleep, otherwise keeping a watch around us and on the children. We read them stories, and they watched DVD’s when it got rolly, but otherwise they occupied themselves - doing colouring and inventing elaborate games to play. One morning they enacted a wedding, complete with rings and a wedding feast, attended by all their teddies. They made a zoo with a ‘quiz’ for me to find various hidden animals. And on the last day, they got very excited making a ‘zipwire’ from the wheelhouse down below, complete with a basket attached to carry things up and down for meals. It worked very well and provided hours of entertainment!

The wedding rings!

The wedding feast

The zipwire!

The wind dropped during the first day and the sea calmed down, we pottered along at three knots with the light wind spinnaker. We introduced the children to our noon fix game. At midday, we all guess the distance covered during the last 24 hours and then plot our position on the chart. Whoever guesses the closest gets to choose a treat that we all share. Reuben wasn’t so keen on this game as he didn’t get the closest guess, even though we tried to explain that nobody actually loses!

Captain Dave with spinnaker up

We motored slowly through the second night as the wind had dropped off completely. The second day brought more wind and we sailed along beautifully at around 4 to 5 knots in a calm sea. Dave suddenly rang the bell to summon all hands on deck – he spotted a whale that surfaced several times near us. We couldn’t make a positive identification, but he was pretty big, possibly a minke whale or a sei whale.

Later in the day, as the wind picked up, we gained a visitor in the form of a little bird, obviously exhausted. He tried to land on the windows, I’m not sure that he could see them, and after flitting around a bit, settled on our netting in the lee of the wheelhouse. The children were delighted to watch him through the window as we had tea, laughing as he rocked back and forth on the netting as the boat rolled. We dropped him some breadcrumbs out of the window in case he was hungry. Again, not a definite identification, but we think he was a chiff-chaff. 

Chiff-chaff?

We were more sensible on the last night and dropped the topsail before darkness fell, which was a good move, as we kept a speed of 6 knots, and up to 9 knots in rain squalls. We crossed over the continental shelf, where the seabed rises from 4000 metres deep to 200m deep without noticing it too much (it can often cause confused seas) and passed several ships nearer to land. The lights of the Spanish coast emerged as a distant glow, then became identifiable towns and lighthouses, and before dawn, we had reached the entrance to la Coruna.

It was dark, andvery busy with fishing boats whizzing about so we dropped anchor in a little bay near el Ferrol, then caught up on a few hours’ sleep. Later in the day, we sailed around to the next inletand are now anchored in a seaside town called Ares.

You would think the children would be desperate to go ashore, but in fact they said we were interrupting their game – filling their cabins with ‘spiderwebs’ made of wool! They both did brilliantly on the trip - Katie didn’t moan despite feeling a bit yucky, and they never once asked ‘Are we nearly there yet?’ I think we have two brave little seafarers on board!