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So, there we were, with Dave & Linda enjoying an afternoon beer (did I say I wouldn`t do that again?) when out in the Villaine , appeared the strangest of sights. A car came sailing by the marina followed closely by another and then another. They kept on coming, from soft tops to tanks, of varying sizes and of varying nationalities. There was over 60 military and civilian amphibious vehicles taking part in the 30^th anniversary event of the Amphibious Rally.

This really was Wacky Races. Plenty of Gruesome Twosomes and Anthill Mobs. It was interesting picking out the Army Surplus Special mixed in amongst the Chug a Boom and the Arkansas Chug a Bug! Plenty of Turbo Terrifics were on parade with posing Peter Perfect`s but I couldn`t find one Compact Pussycat or a Penelope Pitstop for love nor money and I was glad it was afternoon as there were far too many Creepy Coupes!

We got chatting to a guy from  Northampton who I can only describe as driving a Convert a Car,  who does this rally every year, with the rally going to a different country each time. He was a true Rufus Ruffcut minus Sawtooth and just lived and breathed this fanatical rally.

La Roche Bernard topped everything with this sight. It was a great spectacle and brought in the crowds and got them going.A real Buzzwagon but alas, there was no sign of Dick Dastardly and the Mean Machine. I guess Mutley had stitched him up again! Stop the Pigeon!

To be honest La Roche Bernard turned out to be a lovely surprise. We were not expecting a lot, just a marina really and not much else but we really liked the place. It`s  a pretty village with a quaint centre and a relaxed  Breton atmosphere prevails.There are country walks in abundance,  with the GR39 path that links Mont St-Michel with the Briere national park, passing through the village.

Here you can watch a potter at work in his studio or blow glass in Atelier Verre Tout Horizon or nip over to Maison De L`Abeille to learn about bee keeping, or simply buy some local honey.Stopping for lunch in the converted 18^th century grain warehouse  on the quayside is a delight.

On one afternoon we got chatting to John & Linda Hienzelmann, who made the Times and other publications in 2007 when their tortoise “Tora” was lost in La Roche Bernard. Two years later after giving up all hope  of finding their beloved tortoise, they received a phone call from a neighbour who had spotted a notice in a local bakers shop stating that a tortoise had be rescued from the roadside four miles away. Lo and behold it was Tora , battered and bruised but amazingly, reacquainited!

Passage:16.57nm                   Distance Run So Far:1208.06nm

With a leg ahead of near on 50 miles, we edged out of the Morbihan early and in a thickening descending mist like the ghost ship from John Carpenter`s  supernatural thriller “The Fog”. Quite soon the fog succumbed to the strengthening sun and breeze and we motor sailed for the mouth of the Vilaine.

The Arzal lock was open and we tied up on the starboard side and ate lunch while we waited. The lock wasn`t particularly busy but as we were flushed out, mayhem was breaking out at Arzal and Camoel  with yachts battling to enter as we left. There was going to be some disappointed boats!

After our journey from Port Blanc, we now had 26 miles of The Vilaine to navigate, as we wanted to visit Redon where the canal system from St Malo and Dinan junctions with the river. Yachts and power boats use the canals to avoid going around the coast so you see lots of de-masted yachts using the Vilaine.

The river is beautiful and gets better the further up you go. Lush green trees and fields and river banks that harbour creatures great and small. We have never seen so many herons,  birds and fish and the otters seem to love this river. It is a haven and a sanctuary and we felt a little guilty disturbing their habitat but by the same token, we wouldn`t have missed it for the world.

Twenty six miles of navigable Vilaine later, Redon appears. The train at the end of the line, a fullstop. We arrived on Saturday evening and for a sizeable town it was quiet with little happening other than the café and cinema, which must have had a French premier night. It was interesting to see the canal network, that seemed to be Redon`s pride and joy, well kept and nurtured with the blooming flowers adding a pleasing scent to the Brittany air, but in truth, time and resources has left Redon  behind, it is the weak bird from the nest requiring devine intervention.

Passage: 46.83nm             Distance Run So Far: 1191.49

We were greeted with the incoming weekend traffic heading for Vannes for a good time as as we scooted through the swing bridge .It was time to explore the Morbihan and its islands and anchorages. We explored Arradon,  lle de Pirenn, Anse de Locmiquel and Anse de Kerners to mention but a few encapsulated in this  labyrinth. This  mazey waterway was very crowded  with yachts aplenty, vedettes, canoes and dinghies coming and going, running amok from all directions confusing the issue.

Windsurfers engaged in sport were flying at speed in winds gusting force 6 and we needed our wits about us.

We headed for our nights anchorage at Locmiquel but gave it up as a bad job.There was more rockin` n rollin` with the strong wind than Mick and Bianca on a good night. The place was more exposed than a prostitute on Baker Street so we headed for the haven of Port Blanc. It was still uncomfortable as we approached our buoy and we expected some difficult grappling but Mandy got it first time! Unfortunately the rubber grip on the boathook handle came loose leaving boathook and buoy adrift in a liason. We came about and collected the boathook and buoy with our spare boathook and secured for the night.

Port Blanc was calm within a short while and so we caught the launch to pay our dues and explore.Then it was back aboard for tea and time for bed, said Zebedee!

Passage:6.16nm   Distance Run So Far:1144.66nm

Vannes warranted our due respect and a longer stay. A haven for the artist, Vannes manages to mix the modern with the medieval on its` palette and the outcome is a near perfect picture.

The ramparts still hold sway over the old town, its` streets and half timbered buildings, that are dominated by the Cathedral St. Pierre, which makes a visit to Vannes worthy all on its` own.

The city has an abundance of magnificent architecture  along with the famous Wash House and the beautiful gardens of Castle De L`Hermine , along with a multitude of other treasures. The timeless squares and quarters, monuments and museums and excellent French cuisine to give a taste of just a few.

We loved it all and also simply sitting enjoying a Café Creme Grande  at a Tabac or café, watching the people and being immersed in a Vannes content within its` own skin. See for yourself, you won`t regret it.

Today was good news all round.Mum was told that the hospital does not want to see her for 3 months!

We were so looking forward to the Morbihan and Vannes, we were expecting much after reading and hearing so much about the area. We were not to be disappointed. Again we had a lovely sail over to Port Navalo before the tide picked us up and encouraged Erimar through the 700 metre entrance and ushered  her onward for Vannes. Being our first time in the Morbihan we wanted to head straight to Vannes rather than sight see too much. We needed to keep to our timings anyhow and the sight seeing  could wait for our return from Vannes.

The Morbihan is an inland sea for all intents and purposes. Nothing too dramatic really, no big seas, just narrow strong tidal streams, back eddies and the surface takes on a weird look in  places. We passed Gavrinis and I de la Jument where the waters persona did just that. Erimar was going along nicely in the current, but to our starboard side the water was like glass and seemingly not moving. Where it met the current it gave the impression that the water was dropping down off a ledge – very weird. Erimar was merrily tootling along at 9.5 knots at one point but after the Goulet de Brest, where we recorded 12 knots, this was a piece of cake. It is a beautiful cruising ground and with 60 islands it knocks Milton Keynes in to a cocked hat in more ways than one!

On entering the buoyed channel of the River de Vannes just before the distinctive pink house,the channel narrows and makes it interesting when the vedettes and commercial traffic converges with pleasure craft. Our timing was pretty good to the swing bridge at Vannes, only a 5 minute wait to allow for the downstream yachts to pass. We just did a few slow 360`s rather than moor on the waiting pontoon and then made our through the lock and in to Vannes marina.

Passage:18.11nm              Distance Run So Far:1138.50 nm

Erimar reluctantly turned her stern on Sauzon and with a heavy heart and headed out in to the Baie De Quiberon. We decided Port Haliguen wasn`t for us and headed the 16 miles or so to La Trinite Sur Mer  and we planned to head in to the Golfe Du  morbihan on to Vannes from there.

La Trinte  is a place that the famous Navigator Eric Tabarly sailed out of. He was lost in the Irish sea in June 1998. We enjoyed sailing all the way on a beam reach, peaking at 6.5 knots with 13 knots of wind and passing the Teignouse lighthouse on our way. It was a lovely day all round.

The river is still farmed extensively for oysters but has been superseded by yachting to a great extent without being ostentatious. La Trinite is a town of some size and everything you could need is at hand including a delectable indoor fish market. The area is famous for carved menhirs, stone circles, passage graves and alignments and the most extensive are to be found near Carnac.

Passage:16.27nm                Distance Run So Far:1120.39

The outer harbour in Port Tudy was crammed full of rafted yachts over the evening and by dusk there was no room to swing a cat around, let alone a boat. We ate our Monday morning breakfast in the cockpit musing as to our way out of the tangled web of boats in our midst. We could see a Catamaran that appeared to have gained squatters overnight, an orange and black tent having been erected on the forward netting. Goodness knows where the pegs went!

We spotted a port launch waking a crew from their slumber for harbour dues and I attracted his attention. I asked if he could free us from this entrapment by releasing a boat`s forward line and easing it to starboard so we could escape. Nothing was too much trouble and after a 10 minutes wait for the arriving ferry we greased our fenders and slipped through a tiny gap and made our escape to Sauzon on Belle Ile in Quiberon Bay.

We were really looking forward to Sauzon and wanted to get right in to the inner harbour creek which dries, hence our impatience at Port Tudy. We scooted past the outer visitors buoys but slowed as we passed  the inner Avant port moorings keeping a close eye on our depth sounder. As we edged closer to the entrance to the drying inner creek a harbour launch checked to be sure we could take to the ground before leaving us to pick up another bow and stern mooring.

 It`s a place for swimming in the creek and exploring the pools and I took the opportunity to check the hull as you do and all was well other than my prop was a drop in shelter for a colony of barnacles. That was soon sorted and our dinghy was once again commissioned  and we rowed  with just enough neap tide to see us ashore. Sauzon is a quiet, pretty village on the lovely Island of Belle Ile. The island has some beautiful coves and anchorages and we shall return when we are under less time constraint. It has a lovely church and brightly coloured property and a soothingly slow pace and a few small bars and restaurants, just devine. The place actually nearly stops at low water!

We relaxed with wine to Sauzon`s pace and charm and with the sun  going down we were treated to an evenings entertainment from a harpist and violinist playing from their balcony. A lovely end to a perfect day.

Passage:18.74nm         Distance run so far: 1104.12nm

We left our berth to a beating hot sun and left a not so chilly Concarneau behind and we were more creamed up than an Elmlea packing plant. The 24 mile passage  passed without event and with any wind on the nose the mainsail was hoisted in gesture and just to say that we had one! Coming the other way was a parade, a procession of cruising chutes, a competition in  masculinity as if to say mine is better, brighter and bigger than yours!

The sun,  hot, made for the solar panel, the one on my head not in the coachroof but a greasing of “Elmlea” eased the discomfort. We entered the breakwater at Port Tudy on Ile De Groix and made for the inner harbour but there were no rooms at the inn and we knew we couldn`t get into the wet basin due to the lack of water. So we about turned and picked up a fore and aft mooring in the outer harbour.

It was hot enough at sea but in the confines of this 19^th century tuna port, it was sweltering. Over a very cold drink with no more alcohol at lunchtimes, we watched the L`oreint ferry manoeuvre effortlessly in it`s own space .

It was the first time this year that our dinghy had been brought in to service and we rowed ashore to taste the delights of a local icecream with our names on. Off we went in search of the  port office to pay for our stay, slurping like spoilt kids on the tasty, cold icecreams before embarking on some exploring.

Mandy had spotted one or two flying ants around the town but I said the Chinese were welcome tourists. As the  late afternoon approached the ants grew in numbers and grew in size. Within an hour the town was swarmed in a plague, ants filling the air and people scurrying and swatting in defence like a scene from a Hitchcock movie.

We hoped for solace back on board but in the heat we had left the hatches open for air and so we rowed back with some trepidation. As it was, there was just the odd rogue scouting for suitable targets and as soon as they came, they went leaving a town and harbour to an idyllic evening.

Passage:24.71nm                      Distance Run So Far:1085.38

It was like a jail break, furtively slipping our lines and sneaking out of Loctudy before the wind realised. Over night the wind had blown itself out and so we headed straight for Concarneau, although just a couple of hours it was good to get going and Concarneau was a place we wanted to see. Typically ridiculous, but we sailed for just an hour before the engine went on and after all that wind! Feast or famine.

Loctudy was full due to everyone being stormbound and we assumed it would be the same for Concarneau. It`s usually rafting room only in July and August and so we expected the worst. We figured that after days holed up everyone would be gagging to get out, so we left early to grab a spot. As we passed Sainte Marine and Benodet, emerging from the Odet was an exodus, the mother of all flotillas, breaking free, headed for the Glenans (please be headed for the Glenans!). The skyline took to white canvass as yachts raced for their lives, with pent up yachtsmen resembling kids on far too many “e” numbers.

As sure as eggs is eggs, as we approached Concarneau, Sainte Marine and Benodet was being played out here. My god, the Glenans will be like the Solent on a bank holiday! We approached the ramparts of Ville Close and swung in to a half empty marina. In no time at all, we were greeted by Dave and Linda who we had met in Camaret. They had just rejoined Alphora for a couple of months and they came aboard for elevenses.

The Ville Close was Concarneau, an historical walled stronghold, similar to St Malo but smaller scale. Shopping streets, squares and gardens, timber framed houses and granite facades and gables and well worth a visit.

Passage:13.06nm                     Distance Run So Far:1060.67