Trail from Caen ferry to Vannes, where the car and trailer were left at Chantier le Pennes boatyard under cover for £5.

Monday, 7 July: We were roused by a member of the harbourmaster’s staff in a dinghy who explained that we should have asked permission before using the buoy at the scrubbing bay. He also regretted and so did we that he was obliged to charge us 30F for the use of the buoy, whereas mooring anywhere else would have been free. For this reason on a future occasion, I would still launch at the same slipway, which is not disapproved of and then anchor further downstream where one would dry out on soft mud at low water. After this rude awakening, we spent the rest of the morning shopping and generally sorting ourselves out.

We set sail at 1800 hrs with a nice little breeze of about force 3 to carry us down the gulf from Vannes over the last two hours of the flood. It was almost impossible to guess the true direction of the wind as it huffed and puffed between the islands and through the narrow gorges in the north of the gulf. When we reached the gorge between Kerguen and the Pointe de Bararac we had our first glimpse of the breathtaking beauty of the Morbihan. This was to prove to be a fleeting pleasure as the wind came to a full stop as we approached the gorge and so a bout of strenuous rowing was called for. Once in open water again, the breeze picked up, apparently from the north, giving us a fast reach to our first anchorage in the Anse de Toulindag at the north end of the Ile aux Moines.

Tuesday, 8 July: Pointe des Rechaud — Larmor Baden 5 miles. We were under way at 1730 hrs by which time the wind had freshened nicely so that we could just carry full main and genoa. Once more we were faced with sailing through a narrow gap between an island and the mainland at the northern end of the Ile aux Moines. With the help of a friendly eddy we beat through close to the Pointe des Rachaude and set off across the open water in fine style. We sat perched on the weather gunwale admiring the beautiful scenery and extolling the virtues of a Wayfarer revelling in a fresh breeze. CRACK! The rudder jumped up, jammed the tiller against the mainsheet track on the top of the transom and bent the top pintle. We hove to at once and I gazed bemused at the bent pintle. Restless carries a mountain of spare gear, but not a rudder pintle. I managed to straighten the bent pintle and as I put the rudder back into position, I noticed that the top pintle was fixed too far up the rudder stock, so that only the tip went into the gudgeon on the transom. I now decided that if the pintle was properly positioned, it would be strong enough to tackle the Bay of Biscay. In order to take as much strain off the rudder as possible, we changed down to the working jib.

When we reached the gap between the Ile Border and the Ile Er Gazeg there was still plenty of flood running. We beat backwards and forwards attempting the gaps between neighbouring islands, but all to no avail. Eventually, the tide slackened and the wind died with it and so we rowed.

This might be a good point to digress and say something about the tides in the Gulf of Morbihan. All there is to say is simply this — that in places the spring ebb runs at 8.5 knots! So, if you haven’t been to Morbihan, then you don’t know what tides are!

Wednesday, 9 July: Larmor Baden — Port Navalo 3.5 miles. At 1030 hrs we were about to dry out so we rowed into deep water on the edge of a line of moorings off the Pointe de Balis. The offending pintle was soon moved, bedded in Sealastic and secured with new stainless steel screws and I was satisfied that the new fit was strong enough — the tide was to prove me wrong. We were lying to our Bruce anchor on a rocky bottom. The ebb tide, which I had hoped would hurry us on our way, was so strong that Restless was sheering about in fine style and it was impossible to break out the anchor. So, we applied more sun lotion and watched a fair tide run away. We managed to get the anchor up at 1415 hrs and sailed for Port Navalo at the entrance to the gulf. The shipping forecast promised northerly winds, force 3-4 for the next 24 hours. On our way into Port Navalo we had our first glimpse of the Bay of Biscay. We moored in the small inner harbour, bow to the quay, with an anchor over the stern.

Thursday, 10 July: Port Navalo — Ile de Houat 9.5 miles We were under way for the Ile de Houat at 0950 hrs. When the ebb had carried us clear of the mouth of the gulf we found a very light wind, slightly west of south and we were just able to lay our course for Houat. Visibility was poor so I amused myself taking bearings and fixing our position before the French coast finally disappeared. The breeze freshened slightly and we reached Houat at 1145 hrs. We made such good time in light conditions thanks to the tide. We anchored fore and aft in a tiny cove on the seaward side of a fish packing plant. Two anchors are essential when cruising in Brittany. We explored the island and its magnificent beaches in blazing sunshine. I was unhappy about spending the night where we were as the bottom was rocky with patches of sand, but with such a large rise and fall of tide needing so much scope on the anchor warps, that at low water there was no guarantee we would settle on sand. We decided to sail to the south side of the island and anchor off the beach at Treac’h er Goured, where we should find perfect lee in a north easterly wind. There followed a really rotten night. The wind died away to other and an onshore swell came up with the tide.

Friday, 11 July: Houat — Hoedic 5 miles A grey morning with no wind spent exploring Houat. By midday the sun had broken through and a northerly wind was blowing — perfect for a passage to Hoedic, where the harbour at Port de la Croix on the south side of the island would be sheltered. We sailed at 1615 hrs and passed inside the rocks on the eastern side of the Passage des Soeurs. The worst problem in pilotage in this area is with perspective, as the marks for some of the passages viewed from certain angles may appear to be in a straight line across the horizon and it may take a moment or two to work out which is the nearest mark.

We arrived off Port de la Croix at 1730 hrs. All the way from Houat to the Men Cren beacon, I had dutifully applied myself to rock spotting, chart in hand. As we approached the entrance to Port de la Croix, I turned my attention to looking for a good spot to moor for the night. I had just decided to anchor outside the tiny harbour, stow the sails and row carefully in when Paul said “you have seen that rock, haven’t you?” — I looked and there, 25 yards away, was a large rock about 5” under the surface of the water. We were soon safely about…

Once inside the harbour, I could see how crowded it was and I was glad that we had rowed in. We moored fore and aft again, with the bow to the beach. Whilst doing so, as we pulled in on the stern Danforth dropped earlier, the line came in too easily for comfort — the end appeared! So much for the bowline I had tied! We used the support from the stove as a marker, to which we added a length of line with a fender on the end. We found the anchor easily in the clear water, dropped the marker and rowed ashore to then swim out to it. No problem.

Saturday, 12 July: Hoedic — Belle Ile (Le Palais) For passages between the islands our tidal calculations were all based on high water times at Brest because the Admiralty Tidal Streams Atlas for ‘France, West Coast’ (NP265) is based on Brest tide times.

We sailed from Port de la Croix for Belle Ile at 1115 hrs. The nearest part was the Pointe de Kerdonis on the south-western tip of the island, 7.5 miles away, but our final destination was Le Palais a further 5 miles up the coast. The wind was firmly in the north when we set off, about force 4, so we set a reef, later to be taken out when clear of the island. Visibility was good and Belle Ile was clearly in sight. By the time we reached the buoy at Les Galeres the tide had turned in our favour and with wind over tide, the sea became rougher. We enjoyed overtaking a small French cruiser on the same course. By the time we were half way between Les Galeres and Le Palais, Restless was asking for a reef in the mainsail again.

At this point, I will digress and mention a point of sailing psychology. Had we been out of sight of land or had it been a dull day, or raining, we would have reefed at once. But, because the sun was shining and the sea sparkling and the coastline very beautiful, we did not bother to reef. By the time we reached the entrance to Le Palais, a reef really was essential and I was cross with myself for having been so silly. We anchored in a little cove at the harbour entrance stowed the sails and generally tidied up before rowing into the crowded harbour. The harbour is far from ideal for a cruising Wayfarer. There is a very big rise and fall of tide and the bottom is stony everywhere.

Monday, 14 July: Belle Ile — Penerf 24 miles The day dawned dull and foggy. By 1300 hrs there was still no wind, but the visibility was better, so we set off rowing on a course which would take us to the northern end of the island of Houat. If the wind did not turn up, we could stay at Houat and if it did, we could sail, through the Passage du Beniguet and on to Penerf on the mainland. I rowed from 1300 hrs to 1415 on a course set to make suitable allowance for the tide. As I rowed, I could see the two lighthouses on the end of the piers at Le Palais staying just where they should be. I was just about to hand over the oars for a rest when up came a gentle breeze from the north. So, up went the sails and off we went. The arrival of wind greatly improved the visibility. We managed to lay a course through the Passage du Beniguet, north of Houat, and once we were through, we were able to free the sheets as we altered course for Penerf 17 miles away. Before long, we had the wind free enough to set the spinnaker.

Although Restless is a cruising boat, she does not despise the use of a spinnaker on longish passages in reasonable winds. The sight of Wayfarers in Poole harbour dashing round short courses, struggling with their spinnakers on the downwind legs, always serves as a reminder of the comforts of the genoa and whisker pole.

We had a wonderful sail until we had the Pointe S. Jacques, on the French mainland, abeam when the whipping holding the clip on the end of the spinnaker guy came adrift. This was a timely reminder that in Restless’s scale of reckoning the wind had reached the top of the happy spinnakering strength anyway. Although the French coast was clearly visible, out of habit we sailed a little upwind of our course and eventually found the Penvine buoy more or less where it should have been. I had spent the Sunday night preparing for our passage from Belle Ile to Penerf. Having read the relevant passage in the North Biscay Pilot about the entrance to Penerf, I thought that it might have been simpler to tackle Cape Horn, as you just have to remember to leave it to port when homeward bound.

Restless’s other skipper resolutely refuses to share my nightly meditation on the chart on the grounds that he is on holiday. I had not realised until this day how overconfident he is in my ability as a pilot.

I also learnt that he fails completely to understand the problems involved in translating what is printed in one dimension on the chart into three dimensional reality, when sailing to windward in a Wayfarer in a fresh breeze. The problem with Penerf is that there are three passages, two marked and one not, into the river through a forest of rocks. The two marked passages are buoyed with the traditional red and green stakes and from seaward, especially when beating toward them, it is not easy to work out which stakes apply to which passage until you get quite close, as they first appear as a straight line across the horizon. The wind was now stronger and funnelling out of the river, therefore I spent the last hour of the passage perched on the weather gunwale, genoa sheet in one hand, chart in the other, fending off continuous requests to know when we should come about.

We anchored off the village of Penerf at 2015 hrs and as we prepared supper we were entertained to a disco and later on to a firework display to celebrate the storming of the Bastille.

Wednesday, 16 July: Penerf — Port Navalo 16 miles We sailed on the first of the ebb at 1315 hrs and left the river by the western passage. We were all clear of the entrance by 1350 hrs. We began the slow beat to Port Navalo. Shorts and suntan cream were the rig of the day. By the time we had Pointe S. Jacques abeam the wind had fallen very light and visibility to the north was poor, so we considered going into Point aux Moins for the night. However, I did not like the look of the weather. The signs were for plenty of wind the next day and we had to think about getting back to Vannes, so we decided to carry on. In the late afternoon visibility decreased drastically and the wind freshened from the NE enough to make us don sweaters and oilskins. With the help of a friendly eddy close into the western side of the entrance to the Gulf of Morbihan, we reached Port Navalo once more and anchored at 1945 hrs in the outer harbour, where we dried out on nice soft mud.

Thursday, 17 July: Port Navalo — Ile D’Arz 7.5 miles We got underway about mid morning and carried the flood all they way to the Ile d’Arz. It was such a lovely day that I did not bother with oilskins, forgetting that the express tides in the gulf kick up a very short sea, which is wonderfully wetting. The helmsman was more fortunate. On our way to the Ile d’Arz we saw much of the southern part of the gulf which we had not seen on our outward passage and we continued to marvel at the beauty of it all.

Friday 18 July: Ile d’Arz — Vannes 7 miles After as leisurely start we had an afternoon sail back to Vannes. The wind was particularly gusty and generally from the north. In the passage between the Ile d’Arz and the Ile Boedic the gusts were so strong that for the sake of comfort we reefed the main and changed the genoa for the small jib. As we rowed up the narrow cut to the dock gate at the marina, we were given a tow by a passing French yacht, a great help. On arrival at the marina, I walked round to collect the car and we began to pack up our gear to lighten Restless ready for hauling out next morning.

(The editor regrets that many useful details have had to be omitted for lack of space.)