C’est la Vie

The 5:30 alarm signalled an early start to catch the morning tide. A blurry eyed dog walk followed by a cup of tea and we start the engine; the lock gates open and we are off. Sunrise on the aft.

Destination Bilbao; 200 miles and roughly 40 hours to go, we are fuelled up (450 litres), watered up (1000 litres) and victualed up. Toby dons his life jacket and looks confused. Never been to sea before.

We need to be sure to avoid the French military target practice zone which runs from 3 miles off the coast from the mouth of the Gironde all the way down to Arcachon, so we set a course 50 miles off shore as soon as we pass the lighthouse at the north end of Ile d’Oleron, which has been there since the 1830s. The passage plan will take us on an almost direct southerly route to Bilbao once 50 mile off shore. We pass Ile d’Aix, which is where Napoleon finally departed French soil after Waterloo on his way to St Helena; a sad end for a great leader. We react with a gallic shrug; c’est la vie …

20 miles off shore and we are making good progress averaging 7knots with 2knots of tide pushing us out to sea in a light breeze. The wind dies to a dead calm and then the engine alarm! Engine off immediately and down into the engine room to take a look. Dolphins frolicking below. The engine bay is full of oil. A vacant look on my face. Mind full of expletives, but no clever ideas. Engine was professionally serviced over the winter; this is not a problem of neglect. So; no engine, no wind and no sight of land. The sails just flapping. We are not in any immediate danger, but we need to go back somehow … We radio a passing square rigger, but after enquiring if there is a life threatening situation (negative) they give us the gallic shrug and pass into the haze. Hmm, c’est la vie. We wait for some wind; the forecast had been promising. After perhaps an hour or so, there was a ripple on the water coming from the north, hopes rise … yes, a lift .. We set course for the lighthouse we had passed a couple of hours earlier. 2 knots of wind soon rises to a healthy 12-15 knots and we begin to make progress towards the lighthouse. The tide has turned, so we get help from the current. Things are looking up. Just past the lighthouse is St Dennis d’Orleon that has a small harbour accessible a couple of hours either side of high tide (high tide is at 16:45). We reach the lighthouse about a mile off and the wind drops to nothing again. So again; no engine, no wind so we drift with the current. This time, just a mile off a lighthouse and the rocks on which it sits and flashes warnings to passing ships of the danger of the rocks below. Oh!

After a short while, a sailing boat called Fish Pie is spotted on the AIS. We radio and explain our predicament. They alter course to discuss (how very British). After explaining our plight, with no gallic shrug, we threw the British crew a line and they kindly tow us past the lurking lighthouse and its hidden dangers which are home to lobsters, crabs and numerous wrecks to the mouth of the harbour to St Dennis. We drop anchor in 6m of water. Help is on its way; we had used the becalmed moments to call the engineers that had serviced the engine. They would meet us at St. Dennis. Once on board, Guillaume identified the problem. A broken pipe that sent lubricant from the sump to the turbo under pressure had broken. Reason unknown. As luck would have it, Guillaume just happened to have a complete 80hp perkins diesel engine, which was the same model as ours, in the back of his van. How often does that happen? Anyway, we poach the offending part from this engine and fit onto Sea Star and we are back up and running; clearing up still to do; however.

Finally dinner on the key side; sea food – not much meat around here; just crabs and lobsters from the lighthouse … and a bottle of muscadet. After dinner, Toby enjoys a sunset walk/scamper along the beach before retiring.

Just another day in the life …