A CHANCE TO LINGER
The sun lingered low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the sandy island of Höedic. The small south Brittany harbour is home to three large mooring balls, around which yachts rafted together in a circle, with bows attached to the ball and sterns facing outward, like the petals of three flowers.
In our cockpit, Nick strummed his guitar and I sipped on a glass of rosé, as we watched the late afternoon rush of sailors entering the harbour and trying to secure a place. Sometimes a single-handed sailor would tie up with the practiced ease of decades of experience, leaving us embarrassed at our own clumsy efforts earlier in the day.
Other times, yachts would arrive full of enthusiastic yet unskilled crew, and after watching several messy attempts at securing themselves, we’d reflect that perhaps we didn’t do so badly after all. Seagulls wheeled overhead, swimmers splashed in the water, and dinghies nosed their way between the rafted boats and the floating dinghy dock. The ferry blasted its horn and, in what seemed an impossible manoeuvre, executed a tight turn in the packed harbour, before steaming away, leaving yachts rocking in its wake.
‘Brittany remains our favourite cruising ground’
This was our evening’s entertainment, and after six years of living full time on our Southerly 38, , the simple pleasure of relaxing in our cockpit after a day of sailing in the sun, watching the harbour activity, was the: we were sailing her back to the UK to be sold so we could prepare to move onto a new 45ft catamaran.
