Ile d'Yeu and Bourgenay

The weather was overcast.  We maintained an inkling of hope, however, because the odd blue gap could be glimpsed through the clouds.  There was a 5-10 knot breeze and we hoisted the sails once we got out of the waves that were bouncing us around like a beach ball in the shallow bay.  Having watched the sailboards fly off the waves yesterday we were keen not to do the same!  Our hopes for a fine day were dashed within an hour when, firstly, a fine drizzle was felt and, secondly, the wind dropped so much that the engine had to go on.

Just over five hours after casting off we could see Ile d'Yeu in the haze off the starboard bow.  Entering Joinville, the only suitable port on the island, turned out to be a tricky manoeuvre, dodging a few "nasties" (our latest nick-name for lobster pots) and ferries in the entrance, as well as taking careful notice of the depth gauge.  We made it through the final turn, passed the green lights into the marina and were astonished to see half a dozen British boats, more than we than we have seen all trip.  The pilot does mention that Joinville is a convenient port of call when going to or fro' La Rochelle but we were surprised; maybe the improving weather was bringing out more yotties?  One of the yachts was from the RSYC (Royal Southampton Yacht Club) and after getting the yacht ship-shape we wandered over to introduce ourselves.  Ian and Jo, on Zephyrus, welcomed us onboard for a drink and afterwards Chris commented that I clearly hadn't had anyone British to talk to for a while and that I hardly let them get a word in edgeways!  Oh dear, I hope I didn't appear too rude.  Mum always used to say I'd talk the hind legs off a donkey...

I feel a bit sorry for Ile d'Yeu because the two days we spent there were dull, cold and grey, it's beautiful little whitewashed houses had no chance to show themselves off with a blue sky backdrop.  The postcards did show it at its best though and we bought several and wrote them as we sat in the "Laverie Automatique" close to the marina.  It was the best launderette yet (Just as well, because we had three loads to do!) and we had it all to ourselves.

We wanted to move on from Joinville to St Martin on Ile de Re, just off La Rochelle, but the port there has a lock and we couldn't get the tides and opening times in one hop without leaving in the middle of the night.  Instead we chose to hop across to Bourgenay for a quick overnight stop which would leave us with just twenty miles to do the following day to reach St Martin at the top of the tide, while the lock gates were open.

After planning our route and preparing our pilotage notes we went to bed earlyish, planning to rise, shower and breakfast at leisure before our departure at 11.30am.  Someone, somewhere, had other ideas.  During the night the weather must have thickened considerably, for a foghorn at the nearby lighthouse started blasting three hoots every thirty seconds (I know because I counted, not because I read it on the chart!) keeping us awake for half the night, or so it seemed.  Hence we ended up sleeping through the alarm!  We did have time for showers and a delicious cooked breakfast though and in the end set off five minutes early!  Not bad for us!  We will always remember Joinville as 'The Noisy Port', for not only were we sung lullabies by the lighthouse but the marina was right next to a busy helipad.

We wondered if the night’s fog would still be a problem but it was now just a little hazy.  With less than four knots of wind we kept the motor on and headed east towards the coast, and Bourgenay.  Passing the eastern tip of Ile d’Yeu we entered a minefield!  The sea all around was strewn with nasties (lobster pots) and we had to keep our wits about us to find a way through.  Chris stood at the prow looking for the clearest route through while I followed his shouted instructions on the helm.  To catch a lobster pot around our prop so early in our trip would be disastrous – the sea is still only eleven degrees and far too cold to be swimming below the yacht cutting us free.  We successfully cleared this hazardous area and after lunch (it was so calm that Chris cooked up some pasta) I had a bit of a nap.  As I began to doze Chris was insisting that the sky was blue on the horizon but I thought it was grey.  Yet, just half an hour later I awoke to find sunshine and blue sky!  It became warm quite quickly and I went below to change into shorts!  There was still very little wind and we lazily motored on.  With George on the helm we both sat on the foredeck basking in the sunshine as the Atlantic swell rolled along tirelessly beneath us.

That afternoon a school of dolphin visited us briefly.  The first we saw was the occasional splash of white water in the distance, where all around the sea was glassy.  The splashes approached closer and we could see their fins and arched backs breaking the surface, then for no more than a minute they swam right up to, and played around the boat.  Sadly, they did not stay with us for long, they were clearly en route to an important appointment but as a final farewell, one of them did a complete somersault for us!  I wonder if I will always squeal with excitement when viewing these wonderful creatures?

As we approached the mainland our route took us close in past Les Sables d'Olonne, an ‘International Resort’ according to the pilot book.  From what we have heard, this is a popular port of call, and, though the brilliant sunshine prettily lit up the red tiled roofs of buildings on the edge of town, the endless line of concrete hotels fringing the sand seemed less appealing.  We did not regret our plan to sail on to Bourgenay.  With only a couple of miles to go the wind started to rise, from 4-5 knots up to about 17!  But it was too late for us and we didn't bother with the sails.  We headed into Bourgenay marina and berthed on E pontoon as directed in the pilot.  It was already nearly full and we put fenders out in case a later arrival tried rafting outside us.  A couple more yachts did arrive but all found space elsewhere so we were safe.

Bourgenay is basically a modern holiday complex, surrounding an old chateau with turrets, now converted to a convent, making the whole place seem, to us, just like Disney world!  The architects had clearly had tremendous fun designing the buildings, a mix of flats, villas and amenities and not without aesthetic success in our opinion.  The Capitanerie looked just like a lighthouse but inside was a modern office with all the facilities.  There were several shops, cafes, bars and restaurants, but nowhere was particularly busy.  The "season" in this area seems to be July and August, which at least has meant that we have not had to put up with overcrowding at any of our ports of call.  We thought the place to be a very pleasant stopover while we waited for the tide to take us to Ile de Re next morning.