Parade of sail
Today is the big parade to Douarnenez. A thousand boats converging on two headlands, Toulinguet and the Tas de pois - the pile of peas - half a dozen rocks out into the sea like the Needles. As usual I am in a nervous state at the close proximity of so many boats, but we're all going in the same direction, and it turns out ok. The largest concentration of boats is round Hermione, a replica frigate which occasionally fires off a broadside, terrifying all and sundry. When we reach Douarnenez bay the fleet spreads out, as we have to tack in. We manage to find a mooring buoy, and go ashore for supper, agog at the number of tall ships on the dock and in the harbour. All is lovely, shanties everywhere, and we turn in, exhausted, but thrilled to have got here in one piece and on time.
At 5 am there is a bump on the stern. We've dragged our mooring onto two French boats sharing a mooring. We argue a bit about who it is that has dragged, but eventually we have to admit it is us. So I sit on anchor watch until the tide turns at 7 am. We decide to rig a kedge to keep us on the buoy but further away. By mid afternoon the next day the kedge has also dragged, but we spot a hefty looking buoy nearby, but not in our sector of the moorings. We moor up to it, and wait nervously to be kicked off but we're not. So a pleasant night.
And we're still on it, with the number of boats apparently decreasing as the week goes on.
The band tonight was Lunasa, a vigorous Irish band who are friends of our band in Dartmouth. They play a storming set to throngs of happy and dancing sailors, and I go to bed with that sense of cheerfulness which a dose of diddledy-dee always induces.
Ian, Marcita's owner, arrrives this afternoon, so the decks must be swabbed, and the boat dressed for his arrival.
It's hard to get a photo to convey the spectacle of a thousand boats on the water together, so you'll just have to take my word that it was a once in a lifetime (every 4 years) sight.


Sent from the Bripad