Boyardville Again

Saturday, June 27, 2009
BOYARDVILLE

Well, however hard we tried - and that might not have been very hard - we just couldn’t get away from the charms of Oleron this year. The day before yesterday (or was it the day before that? Time passes as easily as water past the keel) we left St Denis and motored out to test the engine (it passed, so far so good). Decided it was such a great day that we would spend the night on one the visitor’s buoys outside Boyardville. We slept that night with the companionway wide open so could feel the breeze and see the stars - almost as good as being on passage, maybe better. It was a quiet night with the smell of pines wafting over from the beach and the sound of distant surf from the Saumonard point.

THERE WAS MURDER IN THE AIR.

We decided to go into Boyardville the following day for a last hit of pine woods, beach and oysters. We rented bikes and cycled to Le Douet - a tiny port with some very swish villas outside it. It seems as though Oleron was quite undiscovered until the late 80s when it expended its 3 small fishing ports into yacht marinas, with the fishing boats all migrating to La Cotiniere on the wild East side of the island. They only allow yachts in at times of genuine maritime distress.

At the beginning of this year’s blog I think I rashly promised to say something about facing 60. Well nothing very profound has happened but there is a sense of time ahead being rationed, and the necessity of using those years well bangs on the door quite often, especially when it comes to the number of good sailing years left.

You might also wonder how we get on as a couple sailing. At home we spend more time together than most, and here we are together in a space not much larger than a wardrobe for much of the day. We are not always the most harmonious of sailing couples, but this year has been less eventful when entering and leaving port, when we are most of the time a well-oiled machine. Until recently Al has been responsible for lines and fenders, getting off the boat and tying us up so that we don’t immediately float away again. This season has seen a bit of role reversal so that I can start getting my lines mixed up all over again, and he can start frightening the neighbours. This morning I was rearranging our lines so we could move Snork Maiden into a better position for the off. This involved untying a line that belonged to a very nice big Benetaeu, with another one tied on to the side of it. Absent minded, I dealt with our line and next thing I know, 2 large white sterns are drifting harmoniously out into the marina. Ooops! I grab the line (fortunately not yet in the drink) and pull several thousand kilos of boat back to the pontoon, just as the owners of the outside boat came back. I have to say, I was embarrassed.

As Carol and Sally know, we have a magic tool for grabbing the ring on a mooring buoy and pulling a rope through. (I’ll see if I can put up a pic and YOU can see if you can work out how it does it.) That has also been Al’s job for ages, and the first time I tried to do it this year I gaped at the buoy with the tool in my hand, as if frozen. (Good practise for him to go around and line up the boat again - which he did very well.) You’ll be glad to know that I re-acquired the knack, and My point is, it doesn’t do to get too specialised!

Just now Al’s recording guitar sketches. I think I can feel a breath of wind coming, so maybe we’ll set sail on the last leg to Marans. Aha, we’ll catch the tide me hearties!