Sainte Evette - playing the waiting game

Anita mooring the boat in the fog

Monday.  Well, Derek did make it back to the boat in time for us to leave on the morning tide today, but as we motored down river the fog closed in and by the time we had reached the river mouth at Sainte Evette, visibility was down to less than half a mile.  We picked up a buoy next to our friends Richard and Rowena on Galene to wait for the fog to clear. By midday it was still thick, so we went online to see whether it was a local problem and found that it was stretching across Biscay, and is forecast to remain for another three days!

Fully loaded with water, baguettes and folding bike

Wednesday.  The fog has finally cleared, but has been replaced by very strong south westerly winds (ie, head on for the direction we want to sail). It looks like the wind won’t ease and turn west until the weekend, so once again we’re playing a waiting game.

We’ve made the most of our few days in Sainte Evette, getting on with boat tasks, taking the dinghy across to the slipway to top up with water, have coffee in the little internet cafe, and exploring the local area. We even braved the foggy ‘mizzle’ to walk the  couple of miles back up the river to Audierne for an excellent lunch at the creperie. Cliff and Derek chose what they thought was a two course set menu of crepes with Brittany sausage followed by apple cider ice cream, and were rather surprised when it all arrived on one plate! However both pronounced it a delicious combination.

Breton recyling - a true boat house!

Friday. Note to self, take heed of warnings in the nautical almanac. Of the moorings at Sainte Evette it says: 'in strong SE-SW winds swell intrudes and it is very uncomfortable'. We had 35mph SW winds last night and despite some protection from the breakwater, the resulting swell made it very bumpy on the mooring. The boat rolled violently from side to side, the wind whistled through the rig and the waves crashed against the bow and slapped against the stern. Trying to sleep in the aft cabin was like being inside a washing machine. Eventually Cliff and I moved to the main saloon where the wave slapping was replaced by a cacophony of sounds: the braced mainsheet vibrated with a low hum, wires in the mast jingled to and fro, the genoa lines slapped against the deck and from somewhere aft there was a constant jingling.  None of us slept well, and when we got up this morning we decided to seek shelter back up river in Audierne.  We are now safely tucked up in the marina and hoping that wind and waves will reduce enough for us to start our Biscay crossing tomorrow.