The Parade of Sail.

After lunch we can see the big boats lined up, about half a mile apart, out to sea. Each flotilla will muster behind the appointed one, and we will all process into the narrows at Port Navalo, to be hurled around by the wind against tide, which throws up a washing-machine turbulence at the confluence of the currents rounding the islands. So far so good, we find our tall ship to follow, we exchange greetings with the boats in our fleet that we've been rafted up beside during the previous days, and we look forward to the most amazing spectacle known to wooden boaties. But as we enter the Morbihan, we are overtaken by fury. The 1200 participants in this extravaganza are massively outnumbered by a horde of fast ribs, plastic motor cruisers and speedboats which are blocking the view, going against the procession, and leaving wash which swamps the little dinghies. Their water behaviour is rude and dangerous, and they are wrecking the spectacle and the enjoyment of it. I have taken the helm this afternoon as my reward for the many days of toil to get Marcita ready, this is to be the highlight of the trip, and I'm in a bloodred fury at these selfish bastards. Our feelings are for the little dinghies who are trying to sail up in conditions which would be testing at any time, but made almost impossible by these swine. There are constant near collisions. I hand the helm to Martin, and sit in the cockpit crying. It's true we had the same thing two years ago, but this is much worse, being half-term and glorious weather. At any other time, the bikinis on the bow of these abortions would be some small consolation, but today all I can wish is that they fall overboard into this tumult. My camera battery ran out before I could get a pic of the washing-machine effect. It's like the Needles, only more so.

When we arrive at Vannes my mood is lifted by being invited onto the lovely Auk for dinner (not to mention the corn beef hash and fresh coffee the next morning) and I kiss goodbye to the crew who will take her on south, and then back to Benodet for La Belle Plaisance in 3 weeks' time.

It's been amazing, Marcita has been lovely, and I'm telling myself that we are one of the smaller boats in our fleet, and we've done well to get here and take part. Other club members will take her on for the next two weeks, so this blog will take a siesta, and hope to resume at Benodet.

A bientot.