Day 3.
Today was extraordinary. We left Le Bono in a still dawn in no wind, and amazingly we were first over the start line. The whole fleet drifted silently down with spinnakers struggling to fill, the smaller boats having the advantage of lightness. Then out into the bay where the wind filled in a bit and we were leading both Pen Duicks 2 and 5, Eric Tabarly's boats. (Moitessier's boat Joshua is also racing here, as well as 2 8ms and some huge ketches and schooners, and because of flukey winds, absurd tidal streams and the complete unpredictability of everything we are frequently to be found leading any of these). Because we had been so handsomely entertained the night before we hadn't consulted the tidal atlas which sent everybody in one direction on the last upwind leg. We had lost ground on the leg before so decided to be contrary and hold in to the shore. When we found ourselves completely alone we wondered if we'd missed a mark and consulted the atlas which told us that we should have had a knot against us. But we didn't. We had a knot with us, and it lifted us handsomely over the line after only the much bigger boats.

But the afternoon was the fun bit. The wind was less than 3 kn, and we made a bad spinnaker start. Once in the Golfe no boat had enough way to counteract the tidal whirls, and boats were sailing backwards, sideways, twirling round, completely out of control. Some were even sailing sideways at 5 kns and crashing into a boat behind which was travelling forwards at almost the same speed. Complete madness.
We were fending off and gybing and putting up sails and taking them down, when we saw Dorothy, an engineless English boat of great antiquity and beauty apparently being hurled backwards onto the rocks by the tide. So we motored over with the offer of a tow only to see her dive back into the main current completely unconcerned. But we had to retire, which wasn't too bad as we were doing terribly.

But it's all too beautiful for words, the sun is blazing when the wind stops, and if the definition of a gentleman is someone who can play the accordion but doesn't, then by that definition there aren't many gentlemen in the Morbihan as every second person is either playing the accordion or the bagpipes.

The pic shows an 8m belonging to the president of the sailing club, which is moored in a secluded little bay below his house on the bank. A demain