Someone must have hit the pause button? That’s pretty much what life feels like when entering Trébeurden via its marina. Not only that the tidal gates lock in the flood to keep the sailors afloat inside, but everything else is calm. That is exactly how our day started, but not how it unfolded.
We left St Quay at 6 am to make our tidal window, and were blessed with sunshine and fair winds. Finally, we would be able to sail at good speeds and towards our actual destination. Roci was finally flying again on one of her favourite courses towards the wind.
The sailing euphoria held as long as we were nearing the next cape. Here the tidal streams had us in their tight grip again. We have learned the hard way, that with every cape, the wind tends to blow a bit stronger and tends to be a bit steeper on our bow.
Similarly, every smaller obstruction made out of rocks or shallow banks that is forcing the tidal stream to run through it, creates odd currents and random water overfalls.
Today was no different. Arriving at the cape, the sun was swapped for grey clouds, we were wondering if it would actually rain? Then, the wind shifted against us, and little swirls started around us. It took only an hour or so and we had waves breaking where the current crashed into the winds, and suddenly it was gusting up to 16 knots directly from the front onto our bow. Classical cape-effect as we have learned 😉
We did what you typically don’t see on the shiny sailing YouTube channels (except for maybe one sailor who does this in at least 10kn more wind in ice cold Norway): we furled in our jib, started the engine and pushed against wave and winds, full force ahead, the hard and uncomfortable way.
It was about that time when we realised that Roscoff might not be in our reach today, and we decided to come to Trébeurden “cutting”our journey short from 13 to 10 hours.
Conditions calmed after a while, and we were rewarded with a beautiful approach. Rocks and oddly shaped boulders started to appear, dark green hills emerged from the sea and just in font of the approach, the sun came out rendering our foul weather gear obsolete in mere seconds.
We moored in a top spot, and enjoyed the sun from our cockpit. André ventured up the hill to score the last two baguettes and some artisan apple juice. At last, we finished the day with a galette at the marina bar and an alcohol free beer. Simba found his resting place on top of the favourite heating blanket and time had paused once more.
