We did it; after five years of planning, saving, searching, we have finally anchored our floaty home in a secluded bay for the night. With the falling tide in the morning we scooted over to the remote isolated sandy beach in our dinghy and enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of the sea, the birds, and a group of teenagers who descended down the cliff like path with stand up paddle board, frisbee, to be followed shortly after by a retired couple going crab diving. Still it was exceptionally beautiful even if we couldn’t have it all to ourselves.
Not to mention the large Customs boat that pulled up a few hundred meters from us for an afternoon tea break. It seemed to zoom round the headland making a bee-line for us. For sometime I thought we were their target and that this was going to be an afternoon of Q&A, but no, they weren’t interested in us at all, instead they dropped anchor to have a break from a long day before heading back to work. I’m now known as paranoid Patrick.
The night before we enjoyed the evening sun, got the BBQ out, had dinner on the back of the boat keeping a close eye on the myriad of lobster/crab pots that surrounded us, to check our anchor wasn’t dragging, and sipped wine until sunset, bliss! The seas were calm and the wind slow, the tidal currents were noticeable but modest on neaps and Giramondo swung around when the tide changed. The night passed well, albeit with some trepidation being our first night alone on anchor, and a few rolly waves rocking us from side to side every now and then... probably from the distant wake of passing ships!
It was reassuring in the morning to recognise our surroundings as the same as when went to bed, with the friendly lobster pots still as close and far as they were 10 hours ago. As the morning sun rose, we were greeted by a friendly elderly fisherman collecting his catch from the nearest pot... “to veut une crabe?” Non-merci! We’ve no idea how to cook one, we did but crab wasn't on the menu today chez Giramonda!
After the dinghy excursion to the ‘isolated’ beach, with some learnings about using an anchor on little ‘g’ to keep her from becoming beached in the receding water (she’s too heavy to drag back into the water), we return to big ‘G’ and set off for Binic, a 24 nautical mile passage and we must arrive at 6pm, no earlier, no later. So that means a steady 4knots (over ground) for six hours. Apparent winds came off our rear quarter and blew us softly at a good pace to within a mile of our final approach.
Binic is beautiful, but the approach, like many harbours here, needs good timing, the harbour entrance is closed most of the time as the sea recedes for one mile leaving a sandy beach in it’s place.As tides rise the sand is replaced by enough water for us to pass, but not for 3 days either side of neaps, which is why today (four days after neaps) was the first day we could approach with enough depth to enter, with the entrance open for only a couple of hours.
We lined big G up for the harbour door, and slowly nudged our way in with little space on each side for error. The harbour entrance is only 10 meters wide and we are just under 8 meters wide. A meter each side isn’t a lot to play with, but with Janine at the starboard bow keeping a close eye on distances we slid through without drama. With what felt like crowds watching us as we arrived we hope we can repeat the show in a few days as we depart and head 3 miles up the coast.
Catch up with our second YouTube video: https://youtu.be/3rm3lS467uQ