Saint Malo to Saint Quay Portrieux
26 July 2020
Donna Cariss
Thank you to everyone who has commented on our blog so far. Hopefully you are all enjoying it and are not deterred by the length. I do get carried away when I start writing. Note that there are also new photos in the Gallery. We have been having some issues and the laptop doesn't appear to like the photos from Pete's camera, so we are reverting to photos on the tablet going forwards.
We were awoken by the noise from the engines of the Brittany Ferry docking a couple of hundred metres away, just inside the entrance to the commercial harbour, some 200 metres away. Yachts heading east had already left, whereas we had no plans to leave before 10am at the earliest. We were planning a short motor to Ile des Hebihens, an anchorage about 6 miles away, which would be all motoring through the narrow inisde channel. After a leisurely breakfast, we set off, picking our way through the well marked bouyage and negotiating the myriad of small craft out fishing around the many rocks. Luckily it was near enough high water, so we had plenty of depth to play with when avoiding other boats. We had to cross a drying height, something we are getting very used to in this area and had about 9 metres of water beneath the keel. We arrived at Ile des Hebihens in about an hour and found the spot, between that island and La Nelliere, which has 2m depth a chart datum. Being only a couple of hours after high water, we were anchoring in over 14 metres of water and Pete let most of the chain go, perhaps not intentionally and then reined it in 10 metres. The anchorage was idyllic, between the two islands. There was a lovely sliver of golden beach to the south of us and a small castle on the hill to the south west. There was also a large drying rock about 70 metres east of us, which we used to confirm that the anchor wasn't dragging. We killed the engine, updated the log, shut down the instruments and peace descended on us. A few small boats came in and out during the day but the majority of yachts and motor cruisers anchored or tied up to the bouys on the drying heights to the south west of Ile des Hebihens, out of our sight. They would be leaving well before low water. It was another warm and mostly sunny day and we were able to relax, read and sunbathe. Pete even dived over the side for a naked swim (sorry, no photo!). We were visited by several small aircraft, one which looked like a glider but definitely had an engine flew low over the anchorage. We had a lovely salad for lunch, washed down with a bottle of wine, the last one of our supply, ensuring we wouldn't be drinking in the evening, when we may need to watch the anchor. The wine wiped me out, so I had a little siesta while the sun was taking a short break. It was interesting watching the changing landscape around us as the tide fell and then rose again. By low water, we were almost surrounded, with only two small entrances or exits from our anchorage. At high water we could see the mainland when scanning from south west to south east and we were wide open to the north. Late afternoon, when the water was low, the birds came out, oyster catchers, curlews and even an ibis. We were watching the wind, which was due to pick up a little before turning more westerly, as we had the option to move to the east side of Ile des Hebihens but further off to ensure we wouldn't dry out. The wind didn't materialise so we headed for bed at 10pm, with high water due at 2208. At 2210 the wind turbine kicked in, followed by the halyards vibrating, definitely not air on a G string either. After 20 minutes the wind had whipped up a bit of a swell and the boat started to rock. This caused the water to bang around in the tank beneath my head and the waves to slap the transom, which behaves like a boom box. Despite the noise, Pete started to snore and I snuggled down, believing that the noise and the rocking would reduce as the tide fell and the wind direction changed in our favour. I looked at my watch at midnight and then fell asleep. 30 minutes later, the anchor drag alarm went off. As far as we could see in the dark, we hadn't moved, just swung on the anchor so our stern was facing the big rock, which was now perhaps a little too close for comfort. Pete went and took in some chain and we went back to bed. Pete drifted off to the Land of Nod again and I tossed and turned, unable to sleep with the increasing rocking and noise. At 6am we were up and by 6.30am we were on our way to Saint Quay Portrieux, despite the tide being against us. Lesson learned, 'if in doubt, move to definite shelter'.
There wasn't much wind but being in no rush, we had the sails up and meandered amongst the many boats out in the bay. We passed St Cast, which had been another alternative for the previous night and then another two headlands. The first sported a castle and the second the Cap Frehel lighthouse. I saw the first but had returned to bed before the second, to catch some much needed sleep. Typically the wind died so I was kept awake by Pete trimming the sails, then dropping the sails, playing with the chart plotter, pip, pip, pip! and then the engine. Nevertheless, I persevered for almost 2 hours and felt better for the shut eye anyway. We passed some pretty little villages along the coast before cutting across to St Quay Portrieux, which is a 24 hour access harbour, very rare on this coast. We were planning to stay for 2 nights, as 30 knot winds, from the west, were forecast for Saturday, making it impossible to round the next point, en route to Roscoff, where tides run hard and fast. Our friends, Ted and Sara, were due to put their boat back in the water here this weekend, having completed a massive cleaning job following 10 months of neglect due to Winter followed by Covid-19. They arrived on board with a box of cold ones and then took us to the big out of town supermarket to stock up. What a myriad of delights, fresh fish and seafood, pastries, local delicacies and wine! 5 litre wine boxes for €12.75. A couple of those should last us a while, I hope. Back at the boat, the four of us had a quick alfresco nibble and an alcoholic beverage or two, before heading to bed for an early night. That was a great night's sleep.
The day in St Quay has been spent catching up on chores, with a nice walk to the boulangerie for fresh bread and pastries, before the wind got up and the rain showers started. Happy to be in this safe haven today. By the afternoon the wind was blowing 30 knots and the rain was torrential. We did the nav for tomorrow and then relaxed, reading. Ted invited us next door for a curry, having launched his boat, Waylander, that morning and moored up alongside us. Ted and Pete overdid it on the wine and headed to their beds. At 4am this morning, Pete said he was feeling fine. It's now 8.45am and I am showered but he's still in bed with his head under the pillow. Luckily we're not leaving until 11am this morning, heading for Treguier, which is down a river and should provide adequate shelter for the storm which is forecast for Monday. I am expecting a slightly rough sail, following yesterday's wind, especially as we will be wind against a strong tide as we head round the Ile de Brehat. I will report back later on the actual conditions.