Sailing Pat in Helford River one day I spotted some familiar craft and, going close, identified them as langoustiers from the Breton fishing village where Pat and I had been so welcome.

Such entrancing names they have: Marie des Iles, Steraden an Esperance, Reve Bleu, Fee des Legendes, Kastel Pel.

Well, tied alongside and went aboard, invited into communal cabin, vin rouge flowed freely. With my halting French and their being more familiar with Breton, a hilarious time was had by all.

The captain climbed down into my little boat and put aboard two fine crabs for me. Although their tendons had been severed, I did not feel too comfortable sleeping in my boat with them that night!

At a later date, several more of these craft put in and one turned out to be the Kastel Pel of my friend Capt. Beganten. A friend rowed me out, we tapped the side with an oar, then the captain and bosun came on deck and strong arms lifted me aboard.

Vin rouge again; news of his two sons, one now an officer in the French navy and one away at navigation school.

I invited them out to the Shipwrights Arms, and when they discovered that my friend had gone with his boat, their great dinghy was unchecked and the bung driven in then heaved over the side with a mighty splash. Five of us went ashore to rounds of Guinness and then whisky for some.

The engineer broke into a happy Breton song, and everyone in the little one-class bar enjoyed the general friendliness. I had to guarantee the exchange rate on the captain’s paper money when he bought a round.

Next evening I borrowed the landlord’s dinghy and rowed myself out to the Kastel Pel. We played dominoes then I slept aboard in one of their vast bunks, after a tot of rum out of a bottle sent by the captain’s naval son.

Their boat was sailing at 6.00 a.m., so up early and I had tea made in my honour in a great coffee pot. Seeing no milk I brought out my own bottle of milk, but that was all wrong and I was passed the vin rouge, which I think tasted better than milk in tea.

6.00 a.m., after handshakes all round, I stepped over into the dinghy and put a foot in six inches of water. The captain lowered a bucket on a rope and I bailed out. I rowed ashore, tripped anchor off the pub, returned the landlord’s oars and rowlocks, walked around to my boat and cooked breakfast. I washed and shaved then washed-up and was at work by 9.00 a.m.