The first three days of the festival were marred by rain and drizzle. The offshore sea conditions were not good either. I heard that only 50 of the expected 450 British yachts were there at the start. The Dutch and others were also depleted in number. So the festival had an even more French feel than usual. The poor sailing weather did encourage greater attention to the 5 miles of nautical exhibitions and happenings along the quays however, and I certainly saw a lot more than previously. I moored Lowly Worm in the space allocated to ‘Yoles de Ness’ in Le Penfield the heart of the main base for the French navy. I was a little disappointed that of the 22 Ness Yoles there was no other Iain Oughtred design and no-one else slept aboard. However it was all very friendly and I was made to feel very welcome. Two lasting memories will be the marching jazz bands and the restaurant meals.

On day two, at breakfast in the crew tent, I was approached by a striped T-shirted matelot with a decidedly English French accent, enquiring about the availability of le petit-déjeuner. Rogaire Barnes, for he it was, had sailed from Bristol in his Harrison-Butler Bermudan cutter. I passed a few hours with Roger and returned to Lowly Worm in the afternoon. Liz Baker then arrived, by bike and train. Liz was camping a few miles away from Brest. However I saw no-one else from the DCA — although I posted a contact card on the crew tent notice board for the duration of the festival.

On Saturday the weather changed for the better so I set off on a mini cruise visiting beaches and villages in the Rade de Brest. I spent two nights camped in one delightful site, a sheltered pool beneath lovely wooded hills. The pool was protected by a shingle bank. It was peaceful and stunningly beautiful as I lounged beside a driftwood fire on the shell bank, idyllic after the rain and the noise of Brest. Even though it was le Week-End no-one else stayed overnight. One visiting French yacht did however return in the evening expressly to offer me a bottle of wine.

I enjoyed some fine sailing on the Rade and its river estuaries, but on the day I returned to Brest the wind had died. I rowed many miles with the current. I occasionally raised the main to have a rest dipping a finger in the water to ensure that I was actually moving. There is a new festival occurring next year in another area very attractive to open boat sailors and that is in the Morbihan. It takes place in May and in an area with warmer and more stable weather than Brest. Details will appear in the yachting press.