A Cruise around the Bay de la Seine
July/August 1994
Crew: Lynda & Julian
We finally got the start right this year, the secret was to
get the boat sorted out the weekend before. The previous Saturday had been spent
cleaning, stocking, refuelling, stowing and sorting which was quite pleasurable.
That evening we had dinner with the Aspinall’s and the crew of Ragman’s Trumpet
were good company during the day; even Lynda enjoyed it.
In consequence we were able to get down to Meltem on the
Friday night in time to put our clothes and food on board and have dinner at the
Royal Southern; all after a very full days work.
Saturday
Well prepared we were able to set off at six in the morning
in fine weather for Cherbourg with a light westerly forecast – the crew had
voted for a day sail. Breakfast was most comfortable as we went down the Solent
to Yarmouth. However at Bridge it became rather rough and the wind got up enough
to have the boat heeling well over with one reef in the main. This had not been
on the agenda! Fortunately just as the crew were starting to get a bit iffy the
wind dropped then the sea flattened out. The rest was as expected, a rather
boring motor over the Channel the only interest coming from the tidal
calculations.
We arrived in Cherbourg in good time to have a shower and a
fine French three-course meal at the Yacht Club, which had much improved
facilities and was quite welcoming. The food was good value and well prepared,
unfortunately the evening was slightly marred by the price of two bottles of
“Vin de Table” we consumed – 100FF each. Mental note: always check the price
before ordering! On the positive side it was still Saturday and the holiday had
well and truly started.
Sunday
We woke to the sound of the Church Bells, which were quite
near to where we were on the new visitors moorings. After a wonderful evening
the weather had become cloudy but still fine for our
relatively short hop to St Vaast. Fortunately the tides were ideal for a mid
morning departure so we had time for a leisurely breakfast of croissants and
fresh bread with some “bon maman” rhubarb jam – perfect!
Like the crossing the passage was uneventful, motoring all
the way past the three cardinal marks then the great lighthouse at Barfleur
until the familiar Isle de Tatiou came into view. We were part of a small
flotilla taking advantage of the east going tide to get to St Vaast before it
went foul. It became really hot so we slowed for a while to allow Julian to have
a quick swim. We were soon rounding La Gavandest and La Dent then through the
lock into the harbour and onto the visitor’s pontoons. After a short trip to
Messieur Gossellin to make sure he was still in business and obtain essential
supplies we ate at Le Ancre, almost next door to the Café du Port but rather
better. It was great to have a traditional French meal; soupe de poisson, raie,
fromage then some tarte du pomme washed down with a very acceptable Cote du
Rhone.
Monday
The arrival of morning brought clouds and rain but we had
planned it to be a rest day so did not prevent us from visiting the Isle de
Tatiou. We had thought of going on the inflatable tender but the amphibious
vehicle was much dryer, more fun and would save us any 
embarrassment
if the engine had failed. The trip there was really interesting; we left at 12
o’clock after a false start caused by misdirection’s and a low tide. The vehicle
motored around the marina, along the beach then across the “Parc de Huitres”
where we could see the bags of oysters sitting on metal frames well out of the
water, some being collected. As soon as we reached the Island the sky opened up
so we allowed ourselves to be guided into the “Abri” for a short briefing on the
Island. First stop was the museum of fishing and marine life; very few real
artefacts and the lights kept on failing so we didn’t
linger. We moved on to the tower as soon as it was fine. This was really
interesting with cells on the ground floor, two wonderful circular rooms then
the tower with its superb view. The rest of the Island was all a bit mediocre
but it made a good trip, we decided that next time we would go to the rather
attractive restaurant near the tower. The afternoon was relaxation time; we got
a few things and talked a lot to the really nice group of French people on the
yacht in the next berth. They came from Le Harvre and thought that St Vaast was
the best place in the area; unfortunately I confused them by asking to borrow
their Trout instead of hosepipe, which caused great guffaws of laughter. Julian
made friends with the 
children
on Marionette, a Moody 34 moored on the adjacent pontoon, who all seemed quite
nice.
That evening we went to “La Chaisse Marie” which must be
one of the best restaurants in town although the Fuchsia in the Hotel de France
has a formidable reputation and was visited by the parents from Marionette. We
had a superb meal in a most attractive room, modern maritime in style.
Everything was cooked to perfection and served in a most attractive manner;
fortunately it did not cost a Kings Ransom.
Tuesday
Much to Julian’s dismay Marionette and Lady Galadrial go to
Courseille; we want to see the Iles St Marcouf and Grandcamp so we leave with
the tide on a grey day and soon get wet in a shower. Julian is unaware of this
as he has decided to sleep each morning until 11 o’clock regardless of our
plans. Fortunately the weather improves by the time we approach the Islands
where there is just one French boat at anchor when we arrive. The anchorage is
much smaller that expected, four boats would make it crowded. It is certainly
exposed but in the shallow area to the south of the northern Island between it
and the reef to the west
the water is much calmer even in this wind which must be the worst, a south
easterly. We anchor a boat length away from the reef and find it surprisingly
comfortable, the sun even comes out!
Several other yachts arrive, only two anchor making it
comfortable. Lunch is a delight; the weather becomes fine and the spot perfect –
the old fort to the North and flocks of seabirds on the Island reserve to the
South. We don’t feel secure enough to go ashore however as it is still blowing
quite strongly and anything could happen, If it can it usually does! Soon after
two o’clock it clouds over and gets rougher so up came the hook and we headed
for our destination via Utah beach. This is rather disappointing, as we do not
have the time or the inclination to go in too close where there are
obstructions. The entrance to Grandcamp shown on the chart is across a rocky
plateau that proves difficult to find until we are very close by. We enter on a
rising tide when the pilot indicates that it is safe but find there is very
little water under the keel. Soon Lots of boats stream out so we assume the lock
has just opened, rather later than expected. We carry on regardless as the tide
is rising fast and get into the basin to moor as the first new visitor; as a
result can go alongside a finger instead of mooring bow too like subsequent
visitors.
T
he
pilot describes Grandcamp as a second rate seaside resort with a fishing fleet;
we subsequently hear it regarded as a fishing port that welcomes yachts which is
more apt. The basis is cluttered, the facilities poor, the houses and shops
shabby but it does have a certain charm and it is interesting to watch a
different type of French people en vacance. We eat on board as the restaurants
do not look particularly good or even good value as indicated by the pilot. The
only attractive restaurant on the quay is very expensive so we tuck into some of
M. Gossellin’s cassoulette with some red wine. (A meal much approved of by our
French neighbours at St Vaast). We watch the world go by from a bar that evening
which proves to be surprisingly interesting; little children singing, older ones
larking about on bikes, older still chatting each other up, even older ones
walking their babies and the real oldies watching.
Wednesday
Even Grandcamp has a good Boulangerie so after a quick
visit to prepare for lunch we get ready for the lock opening. There is
excitement at the Capitainerie, or more correctly the Bureau de Port – “un cas
de vandalism”. The glass door has been smashed mindlessly as some time in the
night. We are not sure what it says about the place but does not add to its
attractiveness, probably someone from the camping nearby.
We make our departure; a Southerly is forecast so we get
all the Spinnaker gear our in eager anticipation, repacking the 1.2 oz kit in
the new squeezer bought the previous week specially for the trip. We leave a
good half an hour after the lock opens to be on the safe side but still forget
to untie the stern line, which causes some interesting manoeuvres and some
embarrassment to the crew. Out to sea the wind, predictably, has gone east
overnight so it’s a beat again. We are soon bored so motor at times and get
close to Arromaches by Midday.
The
huge caissons of Mulberry Harbour loom large ahead, concern over the many wrecks
makes us motor cautiously ahead, later we find this unnecessary as they have
been either cleared or are well buoyed. The great shoe boxes of concrete tower
over us, dark and forbidding, as we pass evoking thoughts of the times long ago
when they were the centre of furious activity. This life and death struggle
seems far away and contrasts strongly with the pleasure boats that are now
circling round or at anchor.
We locate the buoyed entrance without incident and enter to
find it practically empty, why we cannot imagine, as it is an excellent
anchorage. We are soon secure in 3.5m of water above a sandy bottom well off
shore as it shoals gradually; we are just about slap bang in the middle where
the three access pontoons from Arromaches led to.
We
have lunch in splendid weather then cannot resist a swim. The water is clear and
it is easy to see that the anchor has dug well in so we could have gone ashore
if we had wanted to. Its glorious sitting there by ourselves with only the
occasional dingy coming out from the beach to take a look. Such a shame the
tides force us to stay for the afternoon!
Eventually we weigh anchor and sail in the brisk breeze the
last few miles to Courseilles, which is easy to identify by its two piers
marking the channel. It is curious, a line of houses and hotels then this little
hole into which boats disappear now and then, no sign of any harbour or masts.
We motor up the channel with plenty of water this time, the swing bridge
conveniently opens as we approach and we enter the main basin with the visitors
moorings opposite. The new marina up the river to the west is only for small
boats so we have little choice. The only spare visitors mooring lacks a stern
line so we carry on and moor alongside at the end of the pontoon between
Marionette and Lady Galadriel, Julian is delighted to have some company of his
own age once again and we receive an invitation for coffee and liquors after
dinner. W eat on board, a light vegetarian pasta dish which is quite appropriate
after the lunch, which was fairly comprehensive. Lady Galadriel is a Moody 375
owned by Mike and Angie Williamson, a paediatrician from Chorleywood. Marionette
is a Moody 345 owned by John and Sue who live in Norfolk; between them they have
four children of every age down from Julian. They both sail on the East Coast
and have met up before. They had some interesting logistics to get to Normandy
involving a preparation trip to Poole to pre-position the boats.
Thursday
We settle into a morning routine whilst on the trip; waking
at 0650 to hear the shipping forecast and make tea, read and/or write in bed for
a quiet hour then I set off to the local boulagerie for breakfast and papers. By
the time I return to the boat everyone is ready for breakfast.
Courseilles is very different to Grandcamp being a
reasonably upmarket holiday resort with a small fishing fleet, which appears to
exist to serve the needs of holidaymakers. A short walk to the east is the main
street running parallel to the harbour; at the seafront end is an aquarium, then
there are a number of restaurants starting with the Hotel de Paris followed by
shops of every type including some good sources of quality food. The day is a
lay day and the weather cloudy and showery so we decide to stock up the boat
after seeing the aquarium. This is quite interesting with a “Tunnel” with fish
on either side as well as above you. They are all fish caught in the area; the
familiar ones plus many that the French are interested in but don’t appear in
England. It’s a good opportunity to consolidate the names in French of the fish
we like. The tour finishes with an interesting video covering the sea and the
effect pollution has on it.
The
next priority is to book dinner so after some investigation and avid reading of
menus we make a reservation at the Paris because it looks so impressive. We tour
the small shops gradually accumulating a substantial load of fromage, poisson,
charcuterie, various vegetables and wine. Groaning under the load we struggle
back and have to return to the supermarket once more for some staples. After
lunch the weather clears and Julian heads out towards the beach with his
friends, we follow a bit later. They are nearby just over a swing bridge on the
river leading to the small, newer marina. The beach is of wonderfully fine sand
and stretches on and on, there are few people, its perfect. We choose a
sheltered spot in the dunes and settle down for a good read. All of a sudden the
light seems to be switched off, a line of black storm clouds advance and it’s
all over. We head for the Yacht club taking our olies, which is just as well as
the heavens open up as soon as we get inside. It’s a gem, unfortunately very
underused outside club events. They had taken the effort to renovate it in a
manner totally sympathetic to the attractive old building that surrounds it. The
centrepiece is a large bay window, which we sit in giving us a splendid view of
the harbour. Whilst we try out some interesting “brun” beers the storm hits with
all its fury, we are glad to be so secure. The rain comes down in intense clouds
limiting visibility and creating an instant flood on the quays. The wind fraps a
hundred halyards and flaps boom tents, which survive remarkably well. A quickly
as it started its over and we return to get ready for dinner.
At the Hotel de Paris we are initially most impressed by
the manager who escorts us to our table and the first course of fruite de mer.
Unfortunately this doesn’t last as the service deteriorates and the food is
overcooked.
Friday
In deference to Julian and friends we plan to move on to
Deauville although we would like to visit the new marina at Dives. The tides
allow a narrow window and we have to leave at 8am. This comes and goes with no
activity from our friends to its “Diving into Dives” after all and we all leave
together at about 9am. We take the trip a bit to casually and even try to sail
oblivious to the tight tidal window but after a hurried radio conversation we
motor on at full speed arriving at 1130, just before the last predicted time of
entry at 11:45. Lady Galadriel enters first having a draft of 1.3m agreeing to
give a running commentary of the depths experienced on channel 8. We anxiously
make our approach and are really surprised to find that there is a minimum of 3m
in the channel allowing us to enter Port Guilliam without difficulty. The extra
clearance is puzzling until I obtain a local tide table, which shows a
difference of 1.5 hours from Macmillan’s! 
The
rising tides prove to be quite remarkable increasing by up to 2m in an hour, at
“half tide” the water is still flowing out of the River Dives and it changes to
high water in 2.5 hours!
We have lunch on board in the hot sunshine then set out to
explore. Port Guilliam is central to three towns, Houlgate to the east, Cobourg
to the west and Dives just inland. Houlgate looked attractive from the sea and
it was, with a wealth of Norman style half timbered “sea side” architecture. In
the past it must have been really chic and although a bit worn still retained a
great deal of charm. The front was highly organised for bathing and really
attractive. At the far end was a rather smart building that formed the centre
having a large terrace; we couldn’t resist having a glace here. Walking back we
could see across the estuary where the tide was right out leaving it quite dry,
the fishing boats having to remain tied to the quay. Smaller boats dried out and
the bare bones of long forgotten wooden boats sit in the mud to the north of the
marina. Closer to the Marina is a passurelle leading over the river to Coborg
further still is the gantry supporting the now little used mooring of the Coborg
Yacht Club.
That evening we eat on board again and it s our turn to
entertain with coffee and calvados – most convivial!
Saturday
By unanimous vote another lay day! The morning is market
day in Dives so we visit the magnificent 16th Centaury covered market
or “Halles”. The array of produce is breathtaking. There are tables groaning
under the weight of fromage, especially cheve, every kind of charcuterie,
vegetables and many specialist stalls such as ones for mushrooms. The boudin
looks particularly good ( and popular) both noir and blanc, all home made. Much
of the cheese is direct from the farm – fomage fermier. Diplomas for excellence
being proudly displayed together with the “medal d’or” on the best specimens. We
regret the lack of an effective fridge; we could have filled it instantly. At
the back of the Halles there is a fish market, which, although quite small, is
equally appealing. It’s popular with the locals too and very crowded. Apart from
the fruit de mere (crustacia) there is every king of fish, Lien – Pollack, St
Julien, Dorade, in fact every type that is edible and all really fresh and
appealing.
The
next treat is the cave, at the side of the market a stairway leads down to a
most attractive old vaulted cellar. Here you can taste, discuss and carefully
choose what you want from an amazing selection of wines and spirits. The
proprietor is helpful, knowledgeable and interesting but also good fun so we
feel obliged to reward his efforts by buying more that we need.
We return to Meltem for lunch then its back over the river
to the beach for the afternoon. To the eastern end of Cobourg the beach is less
formal, wilder and less crowded. Swimming is not easy as the water is so far
out; from the sea when the tide is so far out the channel and navigation lights
look peculiar, seemingly stranded on sandbanks. We visited the Yacht club on the
way back, which was practical and friendly rather than elegant and formal.
During the day there had been a lot of activity at the
marina as it was a fete with blessings of boats, a procession of decorated boats
with the most impressive being the fishing boats with their garlands of paper
flowers. In the afternoon there had been various games fir children and a series
of stalls selling yet more local produce. The evening was going to be the climax
with a band, Strand Hug who were to play at the foot of the steps by the bistro.
By chance we had decided to eat there that evening and inadvertently had booked
grandstand seats. The band were a sort of ancient mariner folk group playing sea
shanties that all sounded very familiar even if the words were all in French.
The meal could have been better but they were overwhelmed by numbers but this
didn’t stop us from enjoying the evening immensely.
Sunday
As everyone was enjoying Dives we unanimously agreed to
stay and have another lay day. Julian went off to Honfleur with the others
whilst we explored Cobourg. The town is centred on the Grand Hotel and Casino,
which is right in the middle of the beach. In front of the hotel is a
semicircular road with several concentric rings from which radiate a number of
roads, all very organised. The casino was being re-built so was a bit lacking
but the gardens and surrounding buildings were really attractive making it all
very stylish even if a bit past its prime.
The main street has lots of shops; most still open even
though it was a Sunday so it was easy to accumulate the ingredients for a
gourmet meal for the evening, we chose some wonderful plaice (filleted as we
watched) and tart aux pommes. We cooked the fish “en papillote” which was a safe
option on board a boat and had it with ratatouille and sautéed potatoes – it was
delicious!
That evening was to be that last together with Marionette
and Lady Galadriel as they had to leave the following morning for Brighton, then
Dover and on homewards allowing a. lay day at each stop. That evening there was
much discussion of the latest synoptic charts, just received by HF radio;
fortunately it all looked quite favourable.
Monday
A sad start; five gloomy teenagers sitting on the pontoon
contemplating the inevitable departure that signals the beginning of the end of
their holiday and their time together. Ahead is the long sail back to Brighton,
Dover and home taking three full days plus a couple of lay days. Preparations
for the passage prolong the agony but eventually goodbyes ring out and they are
off leaving the marina strangely quiet and empty.
A
little later we set off for Deauville, which is only seven miles away, in the
light winds it is not worth hoisting the sails. In a very short time we can see
the distinctive outline of the Casinos and soon after are entering the harbour,
which is very straightforward. A sharp right takes us through the lock and into
the new marina, the visitor’s berths are on the outside and relatively
inaccessible but we find one on a finger close to the land side. Unfortunately
we didn’t notice some damaged woodwork with an exposed screw, which, after a
light nudge severely gouges the hull.
The outlook is not that welcoming with lots of flats on one
side, a desolate beach on the other and solid blocks of characterless flats
ahead, no sign of marina facilities anywhere. We are strangely alone and
uncomfortable but stride out to explore in the direction of the old basin. Its
hot, the crew are against walking so when the Yacht Club looms ahead we succumb
to the temptation and try it out. Although largely empty we receive a wonderful
welcome from the staff and an officer of the club – all white knees and teeth.
Royal Southern members are particularly welcome due to the May regatta; in a
mixture of English and French we find out about the town and berthing. The inner
basin is more picturesque but less accessible than the marina to the sea. It’s
also closer to the beach so we feel we made the right decision after all.
Unfortunately the club closed for an hour for lunch at 1pm! If not it would have
been a long session, as it was they had to change the beer barrel whilst we were
there; we were told this happens frequently when Royal Southern members were
there!
After lunch back on Meltem we relax on the beach. This is
highly regulated, lots of well raked sand, Umbrellas all rather artificial with
a backdrop of beach buildings, low white changing rooms and clubs. There are
lots of people; the tide is out so there are acres of sand full of serried ranks
of sun worshipers including some impressive topless girls. Its good for
swimming, the beach shelves slowly and the water is quite warm. All too soon we
end up being urged back by a particular member of the crew for showers and
discover the hidden subterranean facilities, which are really well, organised by
a “madam” complete with essential supplies including some much needed ice.
For the first evening we decide to splash out on a meal so
wet off early in search of the town centre and a table reservation. After a
brief survey we choose the “Bistro Gourmet” which is just off the centre, book a
table then sit in a café to watch the world go by for a while. Its clear why
Deauville is often called the 21st Arrondisment; the people are very
Parisien in nature, its chic and has a style similar to parts of Paris. There
are even the tall cylinders for posters just like Paris, we almost expect to
turn a corner and find an Art Deco metro station. The people parading past are
fascinating – of all ages, quite a number of elderly people dressed very smartly
often with dogs, many young people showing off their fashionable clothes with
every variation in between. In contrast to St Malo there are no “campers”, this
is a place where everyone wants to make an impression.
The meal is excellent; our choice we subsequently find out
is one of the best restaurants in Deauville and is not unreasonable in terms of
value. Wonderful soupe de poisson, assiette de fruite de mer, salmon en
pappillot and fromage. We create confusion by preferring the French menu to the
English one – the expectation being that English cannot speak French which was
true of other tables but in the end they are very courteous and respond to our
preferences – unusual!
Satisfied we return to Meltem after a short promenade – the
town was clearly going to stay up much longer than we were. There seemed to be
much activity in the direction of the casino with lasers slicing the night sky
most impressively.
Tuesday
Honfleur is not easy to get into; it is very crowded and
the lock gates only open HW +/- 1 hr. There is a new basis being formed between
the old one and the channel but although the lock is operational there are no
pontoons so we decide to leave this destination for another trip and have a lay
day to discover Trouville.
First of all we go into Deauville to get the ingredients of
a meal for the evening as well as some other stores, early in the morning is
always the best time to see a place and this is no exception. Walking past the
beach is an inspiration for a painting; groups of polo ponies being exercised,
surreal forests of furled umbrellas and odd people exercising their dogs.
Further into town the Marie looks splendid in the morning sun with a mass of
flowers outside making a dazzling patchwork quilt of colour that is so different
from the subdued evening hues. The main “place” with fountains that forms the
centrepiece of the town and was full of activity the night before is now
strangely empty and quiet, only street cleaners and a few early shoppers are to
be seen. The new centre of activity is the market, which, at eight o’clock is
just about set up and ready for business. This is almost as good as Dives but
more compact and open every day, how all the stallholders and the food shops do
so much business is a puzzle – there must be a lot more residents than at first
appears. The now familiar stalls laden with fromage, charcuitery, vegetables and
other farm produce are a joy to browse through. The fish market is adjacent and
contains some very large stalls with carefully arranged piles of fruit de mere,
they look visually attractive even if seemingly unstable and about to fall over
at any time. There are moules, pinks, greys all set in the watery context of the
market that really smells of the sea – heaven! We could spend all morning
shopping but move on. The other shops in Deauville are equally interesting but
in different ways; there are many interior furnishing shops with all manner of
interesting bits and pieces, antique shops that are chic rather than stuffy,
book shops, a poodle parlour and of course lots of small boutiques full of
attractive and fashionable clothes.
By
the time we return to Meltem the town had become a hive of activity once more
with lots of bustle and active bars. We went to explore Trouville in the
deteriorating weather. There is a little ferry that goes across the lock
entrance to the other side of the old basin and Trouville. We land by the
Thermal baths, which are palatial then start to walk down by the old port along
a line of restaurants and souvenir shops. We are quick to come to the conclusion
that the only presents to take home are food and drink, the other trinkets are
worthless.
After lunch in a creperie we return via the south end of
the basin as the clouds start to clear allowing us to have a short spell on the
beach for the afternoon. This is a test of fortitude – the wind is quite strong
and gusty. Sheltering under the arm enclosing the marina we watch the other
beach lovers being blasted by the desert quality sandstorms such persistence! In
the shelter we find we are attacked by a hoard of Ladybirds; this is rather
difficult as they are highly irritating and we are forbidden to hurt or even
disturb them. We are pleased to be eating onboard; the sky opens up with
torrential rain for the whole evening, no hope of venturing to the casino or
anywhere else. If we had decided on a takeaway it would have needed full olies
to get there and back.
Wednesday
We had planned the passage to Fecamp carefully; as usual
the timing is critical. We need to leave as soon as we can but at the first lock
opening there appears to be little more than a trickle of water in the channel.
A catamaran agrees to radio us with the depth and is astonished to find 2.5m! We
are soon through the lock and cautiously leave the sandbanks and Deauville
behind.
The trip is relatively uneventful; the tide sets us a bit
too far down the Seine, which gives us a grand view of Le Harvre. The sea off
Port Antifer was a bit rough for some unknown reason and Fecamp appeared rather
earlier than expected. This was just as well as it was quite a slog with light
winds; as usual what there was appeared on the nose so it was motor sailing for
much of the time. The good news was that we arrived a little earlier than
expected in time for a good look around the town.
After berthing in double quick time we went off to visit
the Benedictene Palace. It was fantastic; right in the middle of this rather
seedy industrial area of the town is this monument to the production of the
liquor whose opulence contrasts vividly with the surroundings. Built at the turn
of the centaury by Henri Le Grand, who was proprietor of the Brand and
presumably the person who had established it, as a memorial to his achievements.
A folly really but on a grand scale providing successive generations with an
interesting tourist attraction and an excellent means of marketing the company
and its products. For a very modest sum one can visit the “museum”, various
displays and see where Benedictine is produced. The museum is a collection of
monastical artefacts and art together with a collection of ancient ironwork
consisting of boxes, locks and sundry things; interesting enough but not
something you would go out of your way for. The displays showed how many
miraculous ingredients are needed to produce the unique flavour – marketing
mumbo jumbo in reality but an interesting collection of smells! The production
area and cellars where the highlight, a 1930’s style factory of great quality
with minor modern refinements. Lots of varnished barrels, miles of piping
reminiscent of a submarine, all in the cool of a traditional cellar. After this
“experience” comes the bit we were all waiting for, the tasting. Straight it is
very sweet like most liquors however they also produce B&B which is a mixture
with Brandy and is nectar by comparison. We just had to have a bottle!
We then went for a quick walk around the town to remind
ourselves what it was like and make a reservation for dinner at the small
restaurant we had been to five years earlier. This is Le Grand Banc, a small
family run restaurant with a limited, low cost menu that was always full of
local people and a few discerning visitors. Certainly it was not an obvious
choice, when we returned we were tempted to go to other restaurants that
appeared to be better but they would not have compared with our choice.
The décor is plain, the service friendly but indifferent,
the food outstanding and great value. We had the last assiette de fuite de mer,
various fish dishes such as tuna, fromage (simple but excellent) and a desert
all for 68FF! Finished off with a calvados this made a superb finale to the
holiday in France. Without doubt the best meal of the fortnight, a most relaxing
way of eating really superb home cooked food in the best simple French style.
Thursday
Regrettably the time finally arrives when we have to make
our way home; we set off at 7am on a grey morning for Brighton with the wind
light and what there is on the nose. I’m sure it was due to the purchase of the
spinnaker squeezer that the winds have turned out this way. Southerly for the
crossing and down to Grandcamp, Easterly as far as Deauville, Northerly to
Fecamp and now still northerly for the return crossing. We had hoped for it to
increase to a 4 and back to the North West but that proved to be a pious hope.
The only change was a calamitous clattering about 8 miles out when the cutlass
bearing failed. This was soon fixed by a quick dive over the side and the
application of a jubilee clip to the shaft.
Confidence was not at a high level however so we kept the
revs below 2000 making a maximum of 5 kn; the crossing therefore took rather
longer than expected. To relieve the boredom we trailed the wasp log to
calibrate the main log which was highly suspect – it turned out to be reading
only 80% of the true speed!
Eventually the shipping lanes and various showers were
traversed and the English coastline came in sight, always welcome. Time was
getting tight and by the time Beachy Head was in view we were well east due to
the slower than expected progress. In order to ensure a pint of English beer
would be available we changed course for Newhaven, or rather went straight
ahead. This would, in theory, allow us to berth at about eight thirty rather
than ten which was the difference between a comfortable meal with a few drinks
and eating whilst we were going along with nothing but crashing out when we had
moored. The pilot indicated that there was lots of room and a club nearby; all
was well until we tried to moor up on the outside of the marina. We soon found
that at low water the marina was virtually dry, a sea of fine silt. Forced to
moor in the dying light on the fuel pontoon we returned to the marina to
consider our options; returning to Brighton was not attractive. We ended up
having a pleasant meal on the fuel berth then motoring onto a berth in the
marina at about 11:30 when the water level allowed us in. This was actually
quite pleasurable for all concerned, including the crew; we went to sleep
resigned to a morning in Newhaven and then a late night into Portsmouth.
Friday
We woke, refreshed, at seven am to a fine morning.
Starting to make the tea we found, to our surprise, that there was 2 m of water
beneath us! Within 10 minutes we had got up and reversed out into the middle of
the deep-water channel, all was saved; we could spend out last day in Chichester
rather than in this muddy hole.
Naturally the wind was now a light westerly so we motored
past the piers at Brighton and along the coast keeping well inshore to cheat the
tide. Immediately after lunch we traversed the Looe channel in fine visibility
and were soon passing through Chichester harbour to the Yacht Basin where we
moored at about 4:30pm, a longer passage than expected but much shorter than
Portsmouth and certainly better than having to go round the Owers. We had time
to pick up supplies and have tea at the newly refurbished chandlery. Julian was
also able to get a new set of olies at a reasonable price; we toyed with the
idea of a flag locker but there really was no place for it on Meltem.
After a shower and a very pleasant meal on board we went to
visit the Yacht Club that had just been rebuilt. It was party night – a caile;
we stayed in the bar watching the festivities from behind the band, quite enough
after a long day.
Saturday
The last morning was spent rising in a leisurely manner
then having a walk around Birdham Pool. This would make an interesting place to
stop but is less than ideal from a tidal access point of view and involves bow
too mooring, it is peaceful, cheap and there is always space.
We walked around Birdham to find a very good store on the
main road a few miles away before returning via a boot sale, a local hotspot!
After lunch we fought the tide as far as the bar then
enjoyed a sleigh ride in fine weather back to Hamble, a fine end to a holiday on
a Yacht that, although enjoyable, had not included much sailing.
In conclusion we had covered about 400 miles of passage
making in good holiday weather visiting a host of interesting places for the
first time. The food had been excellent and despite the exchange rate the cost
was not excessive. A trip to be repeated!
