Wendy’s Diary 4 May 2012 – The rain in Spain falls mainly in April!

We stayed in the marina at Hondarribia for 10 days and with WIFI included on board. It was very nice, and not expensive at 11 euros per night, but still took another chunk out of our budget that we were hoping to avoid, but anchoring anywhere really would have been miserable. We spent the time exploring the area by bike, despite the persistent rain. I am not quite sure what the locals thought to us cycling around in our full sailing gear, but we enjoyed it despite the weather.

The one day the sun shone we naively took a marked hiking route as somewhere new to explore. This took us up to a tiny hamlet named Guadaloupe (yes really), up being the operative word, as it was perched rather spectacularly on half way up the mountainside. The route started on a nice bit of tarmac road, only wide enough for one vehicle, but remote enough that not many cars used it anyway. I commented that it was how I like cycling, on a nice smooth surface but without traffic.

After a couple of miles of more up than down, the road veered sharply round to the left, but the hiking route was marked as straight on up a footpath. OK, it was another hill so we decided to give it a go, and pushed the bikes until we came out on a small plateau with a fabulous view of the area. The signpost pointed up another hill which became steeper and steeper, with more ruts and rocks than you find climbing a path up Snowden. With John persuading me that the road was only another couple of hundred meters we plodded on for another half mile pushing the bikes – John even finished up carrying his at one point but I couldn’t quite manage that.

When we finally emerged at Guadaloupe the view truly was spectacular - all the way up the coast Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne and the start of a certain sand-dune that I took a disliking to a few weeks before on our way down the French coast.  A beer was top of my priority list after such a challenging climb and we found the local revelry, more by chance than anything as it didn’t have any signs outside. We treated ourselves to the menu of the day, a typical Spanish 3 course meal plus coffee, marvelling at the drop in prices compared to France (which we could still see!). Apparently they are so well known that they have sufficient customers so don’t bother with a sign.

John on the terrace at Guadaloupe

 The view, the meal and the ride down made the trek up the hill worthwhile. Since the car accident 3 years ago and then breaking my ankle last year I have become far more aware and scared of danger. Riding downhill on small folding bikes normally keeps my hands on the brake handles for fear of falling off on a bend. However it was a sunny day, the road was dry (a proper tarmac one on the way down) and I whizzed down the hill with a silly smile on my face and got a rush of adrenalin that my children would probably need to skydive to achieve. It was a fantastic day out.

 We finally decided that the level of swell and wind direction was suitable to leave on 27 April. We set off just after lunch with a target destination of Motriko (30 miles away) programmed into the chart plotter, with options to drop out at a couple of nearer ports if the conditions became unfriendly. Despite having taken a sea-sickness tablet before we left, it became another voyage on which I fed the fishes and consoled myself with the thought that it was good for waistline! John helmed for almost the entire trip and around 10.30 we entered the river that led to the harbour to discover that the channel was unmarked, and not where our chart plotter thought it was. We found some very shallow water decided to quit whilst we were ahead and made a quick exit through some breaking waves that had not been there on the way in and headed to Bermeo instead.

Bermeo is a large harbour, the outer parts of which is full of huge fishing boats and from the smell, obviously housed a fish factory.  The swell was still quite uncomfortable here and I really wanted somewhere a bit flatter to settle for the night. We continued on through a second basin, again full of fishing boats and behind a large mole John spotted the inner basin with pontoons and no swell. I may have kicked him in the shins if he wanted to avoid paying at this stage, it was late, I was tired and I wasn’t feeling very well. We found what appeared to be the only free berth big enough for us and tied up at approaching midnight. John went in search of the capitainerie on the off chance there was a night watchman (or should that be watchperson?) on duty to find that the gate at the top of the pontoon was locked. We did a quick tide/weather check and agreed that a 7am start was necessary to continue to the next river where we thought we would be able to anchor.

The river at Plentzia

A few hours of uninterrupted sleep and we headed out as planned toward Plentzia, a mere 16 miles along the coast. I took the helm once we were out of the harbour and whilst the sun wasn’t exactly putting in an appearance, it was at least starting to get light. It rained and rained but 5 hours later we entered the bay, and found our way into the river which was hidden from view until almost upon it. There wasn’t any space to anchor but quite a few free mooring buoys, so we picked up a pair fore and aft and breathed a sigh of relief that we had found somewhere calm that hopefully wouldn’t cost very much.

It wasn’t long before we met one of the neighbouring boat owners who informed us that the owner of the mooring we were using only used it in the summer and we would be ok to stay there for up to a week if we wanted, no charge. Oh, and by the way, it is a really strong set of moorings, and here is my phone number if you need anything! That set the tone for the place and we met quite a few locals over the next few days, all of whom were very welcoming and friendly. Most of whom were bailing out their tenders as we had had so much rain!

We were two boats upstream from a boat the same as Annie and Philippe’s, and on our second day the owner arrived to check all was ok. When he had finished he came aboard for a coffee and a chat and stayed for the next 4 hours. I can’t think of the equivalent term to golf widow, but get John talking technical stuff to do with the boat and you get the picture! Jon Mikel found everything fascinating and asked if we would still be there the next day as he wanted to bring us something. From that point he sort of adopted us during our stay, making sure we were ok. He returned with a town flag and a bottle of the locally brewed aperitif, which tastes a bit like cough medicine.

John and Jon

We had mentioned cycling or dinghying up to a local castle “Burgos” which is in my “Guide to Northern Spain”, a non sailing book we have on board. He said he would happily take us by car instead, an offer we accepted and found it just as good as the guide book suggested – on the outside. It used to be open to the public, then changed hands and became a restaurant specialising in medieval banquets, went bust and closed about 5 years ago. It is in fantastic condition and to me looked like a fairytale castle from stories like Sleeping Beauty.

The fairytale castle - sadly empty and unused.

On the way back he took us to the Vizcaya Bridge Shuttle in Bilbao, it was the first bridge of its kind in the world and in 2006 was made a world heritage site. Rather than taking the shuttle we took the lift 54 meters up and walked across the top, which of course had spectacular views.

The bridge at Bilbao

We are both internet “anoraks”, whether it be podcasts (we still haven’t missed a single episode of the Archers since we left the UK),  facebook and emails for keeping in touch with family and friends, blogging and in my case, filing online tax returns! Whilst the rest can be fun the latter is not and I successfully submitted mine from Hondarribia and then took on the challenge of John’s which of course included his French income. I know I am an accountant by trade, but I only ever worked in the public sector, so this was a completely new subject to me. I have downloaded more pages from the HMRC website than I care to remember and still don’t know if I have got my head around “foreign tax credit relief” so if anyone reading this has any expertise in this field they would like to share please get in touch!! Anyway, if you happen to be in Plentzia and want a nice bar with WIFI, go to the Socaire Bar, tucked in a square across the road from the east corner of the little marina – it was lovely (apart from the tax returns bit) and John recommends the tapas.

At 6 O’clock this morning (tide and time waits for no man) we left this little haven of flat waters and sailed (actually sailed without the motor most of the way – hooray!) to first Loredo for a nose around. Over 20 miles of calm sea with a friendly wind was luxury after the previous passage.

 John has spotted the marina on google earth with no boats in it. Google earth is another excellent tool for passage planning. I surmised it must be new, but he checked the date on the map and it was over a year old! So to satisfy his curiosity I googled “Why aren’t there any boats in Loredo marina” to discover that for over a year after the marina was completed (and I think at a cost of 23 million euros) there has been an ongoing argument between the local council who own it and the company who won the contract to manage the site, and so it sits empty. Row after row of immaculate pontoons inside an enormous new sea wall (presumably it was this that cost the bulk of the money).

The new sea wall protecting the empty marina - each concrete block is individually numbered, the highest number we spotted was 17 thousand and something.

We then headed across the bay to Santona, and up to the top of the navigable part of the river (for masted boats anyway), looking for a suitable anchorage. The wind had picked up by the afternoon and this inland bit of sea had become choppy so we entered the small harbour just before the road bridge crosses the river in search of somewhere sheltered to stop.  We settled on a pontoon that was separate from the marina part, and out of the way of the big fishing boats. John went off in search of bread whilst I stayed behind in case someone appeared and told us to “get off my land”. I thought, ah, I nice peaceful half hour to relax and chill out. No sooner had John gone than a dredger half the size of the harbour arrived, and began work about 30 yards away. So much for peace and quiet! John came back and took a nap and whilst the dredger did its stuff for a couple of hours, I took the opportunity to write up my diary.  

The pontoon at Collindres before the dredger arrived.

The dredger - far too big and close to get the whole vessel in the picture!

Electrical Safety afloat

A simple electrical polarity indicator.

We have all heard horror stories about dodgy shorepower installations abroad, and following the recent electrocutions on a pontoon in Cyprus, I decided to install a simple indicator.

It consists of three neon lights (not LED) which cost a few pence each from Maplins, and which take a matter of minutes to install.  They are connected together in a triangular circuit between the three poles of the incoming shore supply.   The amber light is connected between live and neutral.  This indicates that power is present, and should normally be on.  Green is connected between earth and live, and again should normally be on, indicating that there is an earth connection.   Red is connected between the earth and neutral, and this should never come on.  If it does, it means that either the polarity is reversed (in which case switches on sockets will not actually isolate an appliance from the live, although they will stop it from operating) or that there is no earth at all (in which case the green will also be lit).

The following truth table shows possible light combinations and the meaning and implications

Indication	Meaning	Implications
Green and amber	Normal, correct connection	Use with normal precautions
Red and amber	Live and neutral reversed	Dangerous installation.  Switches will not isolate equipment correctly, although appliances will function. Risk of shocks if equipment malfunctions.
Green, red, amber	No earth, polarity may or may not be correct, earth pin could be live	Extremely dangerous installation. Serious risk of shocks. Equipment may function, but metal casings could be live!
Green only	Neutral disconnected, circuits live	Hazardous. Switches will isolate, equipment  will not operate, but  may be live.
Red only	Reversed polarity, live pin disconnected, but appliances may be live	Very dangerous installation.  Switches will not isolate equipment correctly, equipment will not operate, risk of shocks if equipment malfunctions.

The more sharp-eyed among you may be wondering what the control switch above the socket is for.  A few years ago a friend of mine had his Mercruiser outdrive very badly damaged by corrosion.  He had always been meticulous in replacing the anodes every season, whether they needed it or not.  The casing was actually ruined, and a replacement part (excluding labour) cost him several thousand pounds.  I was in the same marina, and had noticed that my anodes had disappeared in a matter of a few weeks.  I investigated with a test meter, and identified an earth fault in the supply coming in to the marina.  Essentially, everyone in the marina with shorepower was getting their anodes burnt away.  To give them their due, the marina sorted the problem pretty quickly once it was drawn to their attention, but it made me think seriously.  I considered a galvanic isolator, but these were rather more than I was prepared to pay, and in the particular circumstances I described, the earth fault was so serious that the galvanic protector would probably have offered little protection.

My solution to the problem was to install my own earth on the boat, with the earth circuit permanently connected to the underwater metalwork.  At the same time, I installed a switch (above the socket in the picture) which disconnects the shore earth.   I carried out the appropriate earth tests (as prescribed in the wiring regulations – being qualified as an electrician helps here!) and discovered that my earth was significantly better than the shorepower one.  When we are afloat with shorepower in seawater, the switch is put to the off position to protect the anodes.  Ashore, or when using the generator, or shorepower in freshwater (or in water of low salinity, for example in a tidal river where there is significant freshwater input)  we turn the switch on and use the shore earth.

I have to emphasise that my solution to the earthing problem does not comply with the wiring regulations, as it requires intelligent input and use by a “competent person” as defined in the regulations, because forgetting to switch it on again when required (or not knowing when to do so) can result in a hazardous  installation.  However, if you are competent and have suitable test equipment to check the earth continuity, it is a very effective way of ensuring that your anodes do not protect other boats in the marina.



Wendy’s Diary 22 April 2012 – Spain!

St Jean de Luz is in a stunning location, but, like Cornwall, the wind blows and it rains a lot. The reception from the locals was truly amazing, we were treated like guests of honour in the local fishing club which became a regular haunt. We are not accustomed to drinking out much, living on a tight budget as we do, but this really was an exception and was not expensive. During the week we were invited to an evening of traditional Basque singing by the local male voice choir which was fantastic.

The club members didn’t want us to leave and kept saying that the weather would continue to be bad and we would have to stay there. Much as we enjoyed being there, we felt it was time to move on as soon as the weather would permit, and on Monday, after the wind blew very strongly all night we woke up to a flat calm and took the opportunity of the afternoon tide to make tracks. A weeks’ marina berthing came to 51 euros and the Capitainerie gave us a 2011 almanac as a parting gift, so all in all an absolute bargain. The 6 mile sail to Hendaye went without incident, and we very soon found our way around the back of the marina and anchored in the bay, sheltered from the worst of the winds that were forecast for later that night.

In the morning we wanted to go in search of bread, and having stopped first at the local sailing club to ask permission to leave the dinghy, we found no one so moved on to a pontoon belonging to the Yachting club. A request to leave the dinghy for a while was not granted, with apologies, but the mayors orders, and by the way, anchoring is no longer permitted in the bay and if you don’t go and move your boat we will report you to the local authorities! We went round to the marina at Hendaye who quoted us 42 euros for 2 nights, with the 3^rd free. Not in the marina but on a cheaper pontoon on an outside wall, no water or electricity. We walked over to inspect it, the wind was causing some steep slop, and agreed it would make a very uncomfortable berth.

These were the waves inside the harbour!

We decided to take our chances and go and enquire on the other side of the river, so upped anchor to motor over to SPAIN. At Hondaribbia we found a very welcoming Capitanerie and the offer of berthing for 11 euros a night including wifi. Another very scenic location on the odd occasions that the rain clears and you can see the mountains. Several days of high swell (5M) and SW winds followed so we stayed put exploring the area on our folding bikes. John has been delighted to be speaking Spanish again, although a little rusty and somewhat complicated with all the French in his head. My vocabulary extends to about 20 words, and I am not planning on breaking my other leg in order to be able to converse in another language.

The old walled town of Hondarribia

On Saturday the pontoons burst into life when all the locals arrived to do waht boaters do when the time permits but the weather is not good. Spring cleaning, general maintenance, catching up with old friends, checking out new neighbours etc. John went out to speak to a local couple who were peering at Freya Frey, and, as is his wont, invited them onboard for a cup of coffee. 4 hours later and with a lot of information exchanged, we moved to their boat for a very enjoyable evening meal. This was another lovely and to us typical example of the camaraderie that exists within the boating world.

Today we set off, with two destinations in mind depending on the weather. The favoured one being Getaria, 20 miles away, with Posajes, a commercial port available 6 miles away if the weather/sea turned disagreeable. Plan C came into play around half an hour after setting off which was to return to Hondarabbia as the swell was very uncomfortable. I have taken a screenshot of our electronic chart software, the purple squiggly line is our “track”, showing how we poked our nose out beyond the headland to test out the swell.

The track out beyond the headland and back!

Wendy’s Diary 11 April 2012 – Sailing again!!

March continued pretty much the same as February, with sanding and painting a regular activity. We were paid up in the marina until 1^st April and didn't want to pay for any additional nights so it was full steam ahead to get the boat ready to set sail. The weather continued to be very kind to us and we spent a lot of time outside, even when not painting, which for me being used to long office hours was very much appreciated.

We rounded off the month by bringing/taking (where do we live??) Annie and Philippe (who so willingly and patiently looked after me with my broken leg) to Cornwall for a holiday and to leave our car behind. We had 5 fabulous days of sunshine and did the touristy things like eating fish and chips on a harbour wall, cream teas, drinking Cornish beer – you get the picture? On our return to Pornichet we had an “open boat” afternoon for friends we had made in the area to come and say goodbye. Annie and I bid a very tearful goodbye on the Saturday evening and Philippe came back to see us off on the Sunday morning, with a meteo forecast that was almost perfect.

Our first stop was Ile d’Yeu (37 miles), the pilot book says a very pretty island with stunning scenery along the south coast. We only used the engines for a few minutes at either end of the journey and dropped anchor below an ancient fort on the cliff side, which was rather picturesque:

With the meteo as it was we decided there was no time for sightseeing and took advantage of the northerly’s to push us on our way. Our second stop was the river at Auguillon (58 miles), it was dark by the time we arrived and we had to pick our way between the mussel beds until we were far enough up the river for a comfortable anchorage. This had been an uncomfortable passage and for the first time onboard Freya Frey I had been seasick.  A good night’s sleep was brought to an slightly early end when a stream of local fishermen headed out to find the day’s catch.

The meteo was still forecasting Northerlies so we continued south to our next port of choice which was Rochefort (37 miles). This was a smoother passage which found us a berth for the night on the visitor’s pontoon, next to the “Corderie Royale” an amazing and well maintained building which seemed to go on forever. It was particularly picturesque after dark and I was pleased that my camera coped with the lighting:

We spent a very long time studying charts and discussing with local sailors/fishermen the options for heading south. We could either go round the outside of Ile D’Oleron adding around 15 miles to the journey, or go through the channel between the island and the mainland which the pilot books and charts strongly state that this should only be done in good weather and on the turn of high tide. The weather was settled, there was just a gentle breeze from the North so we decided the channel would be feasible.

On looking further at the charts we ran into the next conundrum - where to go next. Into the Gironde Estuary was looked a nice days sail away...but if we left the Oleron channel on the high tide at our hull speed it was the wrong state of tide to enter the Gironde. OK, so the forecast was good, we were well rested, how about we carry straight on to Arcachon....wrong state of tide again. Back to plan B, go round the north of Oleron..but every option we looked at had the same problem, it was always going to be the wrong time of tide, and/or impossible with the wind in the north to get in anywhere.

Another study of the meteo and we made the decision to head straight for Bayonne, which was enterable at most states of tide. We needed to go back down the Charente river on the ebb tide to opted for an overnight anchorage on Ile D’Aix, very close to Fort Boyard. The short distance from the mouth of the Charente across to the island was wind against tide and John had to work very hard using the twin engines to steer us across. Once in the lee of the land we headed for the shallows and took a drying mooring and settled down for the night.

It was an midday tide to start the journey so we had a relaxing morning checking every meteo report to ensure that we were making the best decision. All was looking good, the northerlies were forecast for several days, it was clear blue sky and sunshine and a calm sea state. 

The passage started well, as we neared the road bridge that connects the island to the mainland we both stated having doubts as to its height. The chart didn’t have the height and John did his usual trick of comparing the height of the lampposts on the bridge to the gap below, and this confirmed there was plenty of height. As we approached the angle became deceptive and with John out on deck and me at the helm we crept underneath and breathed a sigh of relief as we passed through. On later checking a different chart we had about 10m to spare, but it certainly didn’t seem that way at the 

time. 

The channel was well buoyed and only varied slightly from our charts. The final approach to the open sea was unsettling for me as we had breaking waves on both sides (complete with people surfing), but the buoyed channel through the deeper water had no surf and we safely entered the Atlantic waters once more. Sail up, time to head south, John bagged the first sleep and off we set. The next 24 hours passed pleasantly and on the second afternoon, we sat out on deck drinking a cup of tea and thinking this was the life.

Not long after the wind dropped to virtually nothing, no problem, engine on, motor ahead. By this time we were about half way down the sand dune that runs from Arcachon to Bayonne. Out of nowhere, the wind turned and very quickly built up to a southerly force 7. The seas became very short and steep and very uncomfortable. The dinner that I had enjoyed earlier soon fed the fishes and for an hour we battled on, hardly making any progress over the ground. We made the call that we had to turn back and so headed north, knowing that the next port was a long way off. It was demoralising to say the least and I continued to feel very ill. We struggled on through the night, making between 2 and 3 knots under bare poles (no sails, no engines) for 17 miles.

At dawn, the wind veered to the west and we decided to turn south again, and taking it in turns to sleep or helm we battled through not just mine but John’s worst passage on record. My spirits lifted a bit when the weather cleared enough to see the spectacular mountain range of the Pyrenees with snow capped peaks. Around 6pm, after 56 hours and 200 miles we finally entered the river at Bayonne. Finding a suitable anchorage proved impossible so we chose to find shelter in the marina, something we wouldn’t normally do but under the circumstances felt was well deserved. The capitainerie was closed but a few minutes after arriving the directeur appeared and welcomed us to Bayonne, gave us access codes to the facilities and free wifi and wished us a good night.

After 2 nights (11.5 euros per night) of rest we headed out once more, this time for a short 12 mile hop down to St Jean de Luz. After a slightly bumpy but expected exit from the river at Bayonne we reached glassy seas, and I captured a contented John at the helm.

We had an enjoyable afternoon sailing with views of more snow capped peaks behind Biarritz before we entered the scenic bay of St Jean de Luz, 5 miles north of the Spanish border. We anchored close to the fort at Socoa and took a gentle stroll around the harbour.

I had been on holiday in the region about 8 years earlier and we had climbed one of the local mountains, La Rhune, which is the back drop for the bay.

After a peaceful night at anchor, the weather didn’t last and a forecast westerly gale set in. We were sheltered by the land and fort but decided it would be prudent to stay on board in case of any problems. We spent the afternoon watching a video of “Singing in the Rain” with very frequent interruptions from special meteo broadcasts updating on the storm blowing through. By late afternoon the swell picked up, despite the short fetch from the west, and in the evening we sought shelter in the little marina at Ciboure-St Jean de Luz.

The Capitainerie was closed but the adjoining bar was open, a fishing club rather than sailing, where we were made very welcome and stayed for a drink. The barman declared the tab was on him, we were welcome to return the following lunchtime so we thanked him and headed back to the boat. After a morning stroll around Ciboure we returned to the bar, were introduced to the president and spent an enjoyable couple of hours discussing all things nautical. We were presented with a Basque courtesy flag (something which we had tried but failed to buy beforehand) and in exchange gave the club a St Piran flag. The tab was again on the house and we returned to the boat for a siesta.

Later in the afternoon we unfolded our bikes and cycled from one end of the bay to the other, it is a truly beautiful bay and port and we felt something like normal once more and the ground had stopped swaying.

    

    

Wendy’s Diary February 2012 – A month of extremes!

Without John working we have been able to get lots of things done on the boat which has been brilliant for getting her ready for a long summer of cruising ahead. I always know when John is getting near the end of the list when he is happy to do the aesthetic jobs rather than mechanical/electrical. As the boat is our home I like her to look nice, and obviously she needs to work as a boat, but it is important to me that she looks nice too.

In between working on the boat we have taken a couple of excursions. The first was a trip up the Loire by car, partly to see the places again that we had seen by boat (not the power stations) and partly to see Nantes itself. It was at the end of a very cold spell, and for the first time since 1986 there was a significant build up of ice on the river.

Our first photo stop was to check out something John had thought he had seen on the sail, but couldn’t quite make it out. What he had seen was a very clever piece of artwork, a sailing boat curved over the side of a quay. We nicknamed it “sailors droop” and the photo is below:

You can see the ice in the picture, this was an inlet on the south bank of the river and there were a handful of boats buoyed just in front of this artwork. To see and hear ice like this was a first for me. The sound of it crunching and grating as it slowly moved down stream was ...I am running out of adjectives for amazing/fascinating etc etc. There were circles of ice, these formed as sheets bumped into each other on the way down stream and kept chipping off any bits that stuck out until they became discs, some are in the next photo below:

One night on our sail we picked up a buoy close to where one of the ferries crosses the Loire between St Nazaire and Nantes, so we decided to have a look at the town alongside the river there. We arrived to find that the ferry was not running. A huge amount of ice had built up on the slip-ways and it was impossible for cars to cross this wall of ice to get onto ferry. It had drifted down the river in sheets and the slope of the slip-way had become the perfect collection point for them to settle. The pictures below show how the sheets built up one on top of another. It was a fascinating sight.

Jumping back in the car to get warm again we drove through the next town and came to a signpost which showed something that I lost a while ago and I couldn’t resist getting a photo:

We carried on to Nantes our last port of call of the day and found the island in the middle of the river. Another place where someone has been creating artwork, this time a row of circles placed alongside the river – that were asking to be photographed:

Our second outing (day off from working on the boat) took us south along the coast as a research trip for when we leave Pornichet at the beginning of April. We wanted to see some of the possible ports of call and places to hide should the weather not be good. We have paid to stay in the Marina until 1^st April and don’t want to pay for any further nights as the price goes up and more importantly we want to head for warmer climes and John’s yearning for sailing to Spain is getting stronger every day.

We called at about 10 different harbours/anchorages including Pornic, St Jean de Monts, Les Sables d’Olonne and furthest south L’Aiguillon where we had a friendly chat with the local sailing club president who said we would be welcome for a day or two on their visitors’ pontoon. We plan as last year to anchor as much as possible and it is frustrating to see so many harbours packed so tightly with buoys that the room for anchorage is minimal or non-existent.

That trip over and back to work on the boat. We took advantage of some very settled weather to go round to a tiny beach where the Gavy sailing club is situated; this is the club Annie and Philippe belong to. Not only was the weather calm i9t was also warm and sunny. It was perfect weather for scrubbing the bottom and painting the hulls. John stripped off his shirt as he was so hot and later I applied sun screen as he was feeling in need of it. This was still February – only two weeks after we had been fascinated by the ice on the same river. I took a couple of snaps, in the first there are two things to look out for, the first being the reflection in the new paintwork, it really did come up looking good. The second is proof of the weather, the sun lotion is perched on the deck just in front of John.

The second photo shows just how tiny the beach was that we spent the day on. We had a stream of curious visitors all day, stopping for a chat, asking about the boat and where we were from etc. One chap who stopped by twice, each time he took his dog for a walk and on his second visit we plied him with coffee and my homemade cake (thanks Pauline for the recipe). He then invited us back to his house to see where he lived and gave us a dozen eggs, freshly laid by his chickens. Another example of the excellent hospitality we have received from the people of Brittany.

A quick update on my ankle – the physio has signed me off and I can now walk about half a mile, sometimes more. I have been for a couple of cycle rides and have loved being able to do some exercise again. Hopefully this year I will get fit and lose some weight. I have a final check up with the surgeon next week, and fingers crossed the story of my broken ankle comes to an end!

Wendy’s Diary 18 January 2012

It has been a while since I updated the blog, so here goes with a summary of the last few weeks since I did.

In December the week before Christmas we cooked a traditional English Christmas dinner for Annie and Philippe along with one of Annie’s friends who we have got to know and the Norwegian liveaboard from the marina with whom we have also become friends.

In terms of shopping for the event it was quite challenging. The French do not typically eat turkey for Christmas, there were none to be seen on most supermarkets. We found one (just the one) in Grand Casino, that looked like it had been starved rather than well fed, and was smaller than your average chicken. Annie managed to find a market butcher who had turkeys and ordered a decent size one for us, which was just the job.

The other big challenge was Christmas Crackers, I thought, no problem I’ll just go on Amazon and order some to be delivered to France. I then found that they are classed as explosives so cannot be sent via airmail, and shipping was not an option. I eventually tracked some down on a French website that specialised in things from around the world, and they thankfully arrived a couple of days before the meal.

We gave the instructions for dealing with these foreign objects and informed the table it was obligatory to wear a silly hat whilst eating an English Christmas dinner, so we all did. Explaining typical cracker jokes was rather difficult, as most seemed to rely on words with more than one meaning...i.e. which side of a sheep has the most wool...the outside! This relies on left and right sides being the same word as in and outside, which is not the case in French.

It was a lovely meal if I say so myself, with nearly all the trimmings, we had got stuffing and cranberry sauce from our last visit to the UK, but cocktail sausages were not available to make pigs in blankets. The Christmas pudding had been soaking in brandy for about 4 years, seeing it set alight was another new experience for the guests. It was rather tasty and everyone finished the meal in a suitably stuffed state. The suggestion of turkey sandwiches a few hours later was turned down, but we did have a rather nice turkey soup the following day.

For Christmas itself, we went to visit my brother and family in Cyprus, flying from Paris. It is a long journey from St Nazaire to Paris and we were fortunate to stay with a La Route friend Sylvie in Paris the night before the flight which was on Christmas eve. Thankfully the flight was on time and with the exception of waiting for a rather long time for the suitcase and then not being able to find my brother, we arrived at their house around 9.30pm, just in time to see the children before they went to bed wondering what Santa would bring the next day.

Two excited children opened their presents with delight on Christmas morning. With my sister in law being a Yorkshire Lass, we had Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for Christmas dinner, along with crackers, lots of bubbly and laughter. On Boxing Day we had a BBQ on the beach with one of my brother’s colleagues and his family, which was in rather glorious sunshine on a near deserted beach. It was warm enough to go for a paddle in the sea and was thoroughly enjoyed by all. The rest of the week whizzed by far too fast and soon it was new years day and time to fly home.

We returned to the news that the school John had been working for had less hours available and John being the last one in, was, not unreasonably, the first one out. Whilst the money comes in useful, working all hours is not what we had planned for this trip so it was a relief to have some time to ourselves. For me this meant moving back onto the boat full time and it now feels like home again. We have managed to get a lot of jobs done and the place tidied up so got a lot of feel good factor from it.

The weather was settled the second week in January, if somewhat cold, so we took the opportunity to take the boat out for a run to make sure she still worked, or in John’s words, to prove she isn’t just a floating caravan. He wanted to explore the Loire river, it is possible to sail/motor as far inland as Nantes on a masted boat. Any further and the mast has to come down.

I was rather sceptical as I remember holidays in the region in my early twenties and thinking the river not very attractive, whereas John had images similar to the Tamar Valley in his head. The pilot book says “Not many boats venture up the river and it cannot be described as attractive”. However, John was keen to go so we set sail with the tide, and made once past the locks into the first part of the ship yard, most of the passing scenery is then made up of industrial sites and at least 2 power stations.

One of the power stations!

There are a couple of prettyish ports on the way up, but when it was time to stop on the first night as the tide had turned, we snuck into a disused canal to keep out of the way of passing ships (yes ships not boats) in the channel. John had looked up this canal on google earth and spotted moorings just inside, so we hoped to pick one of these up. It was pitch black by this stage after a lovely sunset, and for the first time ever, I stayed on the helm whilst John picked up the bouy. The entrance to the canal was narrow, and the chart indicated that there might be a ledge on the boundary with the river, so I was rather scared about hitting the bottom and/or the sides. I am pleased to say that it went like clockwork and it is something else to tick off on my list of abilities, and I did the same again the next evening, this time just before it got completely dark.

 We spent the day sat in the mud entrenched canal, waiting for the tide to turn. Not at all attractive, but at least the sun shone. Mid afternoon we ventured back out into the Loire, hoping to make it to Nantes, but in the end we didn’t make it that far before the tide turned again, so we stopped about 5 miles short of our destination.

We thought this place looked cute, it appeared to be a house  - the light was on!

Bright and early the following morning we picked up the tide to come back down the river and made it all the way back to Pornichet on a single tide.  The tides in the Loire were interesting; it had not rained much for a while so we were not expecting the river to be particularly fast flowing. What seems to happen is that when the tide starts coming in, whilst the water level is rising, the current is actually still going out. For a short time there is then a weak current going upstream and as the tide weakens again the river takes over once more and the current is downstream. This means that for every tide there is around 3 hours of upstream current, and 9 hours of downstream. It is understandable why it took us 2 tides in one direction with only one in the other.

Did I mention it was cold - John used the halogen heater to try and keep warm

As we approached Saint Nazaire on the way down stream we were averaging around 7 knots, which is quite nippy for Freya Frey. We went through a very turbulent patch of water not unlike patches in the Gulf of Morbihan, and on exiting this found the current to be racing and picked up speed to over 9 knots. We maintained this speed until well out of the estuary and round the corner heading towards Pornichet, by this time after low tide so we expected to be beating against a current not whizzing along with it.

Me trying to be artistic, this is the massive road bridge that  crosses the Loire at St Nazaire

The boat is now safely tied up back in the marina, and we have been especially glad of the electricity supply the last few days as the temperature has been below freezing overnight and we have woken up to white pontoons covered in frost and ice on the outside of the windows in the doghouse. And I agree with the pilot book, the trip up the Loire cannot be described as attractive. Possibly interesting if you like power stations, but definitely not attractive.

On a more personal note the physio I am having on my ankle continues to help and I am now walking without crutches, albeit not very far. It is pain free now apart from when I am walking or doing the exercises instructed by the said physio. Yesterday I had to go back to the doctors for a “prescription” for more physio as my last one had run out, and was surprised at the normal procedure when visiting a French doctor. She asked what I had come to see her for and when I said what I wanted she asked me to undress! But it’s only my ankle, have I understood her right?? Yes, take off most of my clothes to be weighed, then have my blood pressure and pulse measured (110/70 and 67 J) and my heart and lungs listened to. She then took a quick look at my ankle, asked me to stretch it one way then the other and was happy to give the prescription. It is normal in France for these basic health checks to be carried out on every visit to a GP.