L'Aber Wrac'h

We find there is something very special about waking up in the morning anchored in a peaceful river. The orange light casts a warm glow and the still water adds reflections to the already pretty scenery. The river slowly comes to life for the day and it seems miles away from the hustle and bustle of normal life.

On this day, Thursday 13 September, we enjoyed the start to the day but would have to be pressing on. Our intention had been to use the light westerly wind to lazily make our way along the north Brittany coast in east-going tidal hops. This would have allowed us the chance to, once again, enjoy some of our favourite haunts such as Ploumenac'h on the Côte de Granite Rose.

Sadly, however, we had received a phone call the previous evening telling us of a bereavement in the immediate family. We elected to motor-sail directly to Guernsey where we would be better placed to leave BV and get flights back to England if we needed to move fast for the funeral.

Looking east as we crept through the Chenal de la Malouine

We left L'Aber Wrac'h at 10 am and decided that the weather was settled enough to depart through the Chenal de la Malouine. It wasn't a first for us but I have to admit to holding my breath as we crept between the closest rocks and shallowest water. A French Ovni yacht leaving at the same time bravely let us lead the way; probably a good thing as it's a dangerous game trying to follow an Ovni as they can lift their keels and sneak through very shallow passages where our fixed 2-metre keel would definitely go 'bump'.

We motor-sailed for 8 hours and then the wind got up so we had a fast sail for the rest of the 17-hour passage, getting into St Peter Port at 3 o'clock (French time) in the morning. After a glass of wine it was definitely time for bed as we wanted to be up at 7 o'clock (UK time) to get fuel and move into the Victoria Marina.

Wind and Tide Tactics

As we sat in Bénodet we were studying the weather forecast carefully and using the HF radio to receive GRIB files to help plan our move further north. The issue was that the high pressure system was creating northerly winds which would not help us through the Raz de Seine and the Chenal du Four. The GRIB files did, however, predict a period of westerly winds on Wednesday 12 September. This looked perfect for us but GRIB files are computer generated and need to be treated carefully, especially around headlands where stronger winds and local anomalies are common. On balance we decided to trust the GRIB prediction and left Bénodet at 3 pm on Tuesday 11 September taking the favourable tide west and north.

La Vieille (L) and La Plate (R) at the Pointe du Raz

We had a great sail along the coast but at the Pointe de Penmarc'h we had to start beating into wind to make headway towards Audierne. Normally tacking backwards and forwards into wind gets to be a bit tedious with your destination temptingly in sight but just out of reach to windward. However, as we tacked across the Baie d'Audierne we were joined 5 times by a large school of dolphins. They rushed up, stayed with us for about half an hour each time and then disappeared off again.

Their regular checks on our progress were an amazing experience. I have not seen dolphins leaping out of the water before but this school seemed to prefer to be out of the water than in it.

We headed north-northwest throughout the evening using the sectored light to help us into St Evette where we crept into the outer harbour using a powerful torch to find a buoy we could tie up to. There are no photos of St Evette as we arrived at midnight and departed before dawn at 0600 hrs; just long enough for the tide to turn and to allow us to time our arrival at the Raz de Seine.

'Belem' heading south past Pointe de St Mathieu

The GRIB file prediction worked well for us and we made good progress through both the Raz de Sein and the Chenal du Four. As we arrived at the northwestern tip of France and turned further east the light westerly wind became less helpful. We spent an hour rigging and hoisting the spinnaker but the wind was not strong enough to really drive us forward properly in the lumpy sea. The sea state was not bad but without a firm wind to hold the boat over the mast waved backwards and forwards collapsing the spinnaker each time. Also, the tide was about to turn against us. A beer and a relax seemed like a much better idea than getting frustrated at sea so, abeam L'Aber Wrac'h, we gave up with the flapping spinnaker, hoisted the genoa and headed into the Aber where we found a lovely anchorage tucked up in the river between the oyster beds.

Bénodet

Bénodet served us well as a staging post. We enjoyed the market on Monday morning (10 September) and water tanks were filled and then refilled after BV had, once again, been turned into a Chinese laundry. We also got a couple of camembert and chèvre cheeses. One of the nice things about being away for so long is that we have been able to mature them properly with the ‘in use’ ones oozing nicely across the cheese board.

Almost hidden amongst the old and new Breton cottages is the odd mini(?) chateau or two, but I guess the major attraction for the majority of visitors has to be the sheltered beaches and seafront. There is a nice wooden boardwalk/pathway all the way along the front which we had a little jog along as our sightseeing tour.

Here are a few photos taken as we left showing the seafront.

Île de Groix and on to Bénodet

Our anchorage off Pte de la Croix at the eastern end of Île de Groix provided good shelter from the wind, which was forecast to build from the southwest overnight. It proved to be one of the busiest anchorages we had used. We slept well but woke on Sunday 9 September to a distinctly colder and greyer morning. Brave thoughts from the previous evening of early morning swims were immediately dismissed and we got BV ready for the sail westward towards Bénodet.

Whilst the weather was grey, the sailing was not. We had 15 knots apparent wind and, with only 3 tacks, made good time on our 39 nautical mile passage to Bénodet. Afternoon tea with Far Breton had to be delayed though because we were joined by a school of common dolphins. We were very lucky and they stayed with us for around 10 minutes; long enough to get some good photographs of them rather than my usual ones showing where they had just been!

To our right we passed by Lorient; very industrial and needing an extensive rebuild after WW2 it promised little to warm the soul. Its potential attraction for us was a quick look at the WW2 submarine pens and then on up Le Blavet River to explore the ramparts of Hennebont. We bypassed it this time but it may be somewhere to enjoy on our next trip to these parts along with the Aven and Belon Rivers which we similarly sailed past.

As we approached Bénodet we joined the stream of yachts returning after having spent the weekend around the Îles de Glénan. Navigation became more ‘follow-the-leader’ than chartwork. Expecting the place to be quiet, we were very pleased when we bagged the last space on the visitors pontoon.

Some of the olives, peppers and saucisson we’d purchased at the Quiberon market were a pleasant tapas before we enjoyed coq au vin for dinner followed by an evening walk into the town. This was time well spent as we found the car park where the following morning’s market would be held.

When we returned we found BV was surrounded by fish and remained so throughout our visit. Clearly they had spotted the ‘no fishing allowed from the pontoons’ signs and knew they’d found a safe haven.

BV with the Pont de Cornouaille behind