Across the Channel for Paimpol festival

In the last week of July, Falanda and I set off across the channel accompanied by my parents on Karuna.

The morning started out windless so we motored until torbay when the wind picked up and we started sailing, close hauled at about 4.5 kts. The wind increased and a few waves skirted over the stern, splashing the tillerpilot which in turn got wet and packed up.

We then had a few hours of perfect sailing, the helm so light that falanda was steering herself, under full main and slightly reefed jib. At sunset we hove to so that I could reef the main and get changed into some dry, warm clothes before it got cold.

Then it got dark, and we started approaching the shipping lanes, still sailing well at about 6 - 6.5kts.

At this point my batteries were getting low, and I needed the AIS on as we crossed the lanes so I tried starting the engine. I then discovered that the batteries were almost dead rather than low, so faffed around turning everything off, whilst also trying to steer the boat on a course to go behind a passing ship.

Thankfully the engine started just in time, and I then realised that the batteries had been drained by the bilge pump which had been stuck on for however long before packing up. I played around for a bit with the wires around the pump, and magically it came to life again.

By sunrise we were about 40 miles off the French coast and I was cold and tired and hungry.

After a close encounter with an entirely imagined crab -pot I was left a bit shaken up and the morning just got worse from then on. The wind dwindled to almost nothing and I was stuck on the helm waiting for it to come back. Trying to work out which of the windfarms and rock formations around the coast were real or not was confusing and I saw crab pots everywhere I looked.

The wind eventually picked up on the nose so we tacked the last few miles into Saint Quay marina where I even managed to slide falanda into her berth without disaster.

Overall we covered 126nm over 27 hours, with 24 hours of hand steering.

We were stamped into France in Saint Quay, and then had a lovely sail to 'la Legue', a small town up a canal just a few miles to the South. A few days later we had a very windy sail to Lezardrieux where we anchored off a very impressive set of rocks for 2 nights while we waited for the rain and wind to pass through. Then we sailed back down the river and across the bay to Paimpol, for the festival.

It was my first time at the big festival on Falanda, so we got to try out the small -boat side of things, which seems to be just as sociable as being on a big boat. The French have a way of squeezing the most people onto the tiniest of boats, and all in all having a great time.

Somehow my parents ended up getting in on their bright red plastic boat, and although they were at the other end of the harbour it was still slightly embarrassing - even if I got free meals onboard. I seemed to be next to the party boat, so got free drinks and little to no sleep, which was great for a few days, but also called for a short recovery period once the festival had ended.

We met loads of people and caught up with friends, including the new owner of the beautiful 'Amaryllis' which is now based in Paimpol.

To sign back out of France was a bit of a mission, however we managed to leave the country legally from Lezardrieux on Wednesday. We had a great sail overall, making the most of the easterly wind on Wednesday evening.

We had a great sunset and although cold, the night was perfect with an incredible star display and dolphins in the phosphorescence.

At about 2am as we approached the shipping lanes there was a slightly terrifying patch of lightning behind us, lasting about 2 hours and glowing red at times. I was convinced this was the end of the world, but was at least comforted by the thought I would be with Falanda.

We sailed in company with Karuna through the night, but just before sunrise we split ways, with my parents heading for Dartmouth and me and falanda on our way to Plymouth.

At 9am we were 20nm off Plymouth sound, when I decided to change course and head straight for Falmouth as I wasn't too tired and didn't fancy beating into the south westerlies the following day.

We had a couple of hours running dead downwind before the easterlies went away and we were left pointing fairly high in fog.

The rest of the day was spent at the helm in very thick fog which was slightly awful and incredibly confusing, especially as we neared St Anthony's head. At 7pm on Thursday me and Falanda anchored in Falmouth, where I have been catching up on sleep ever since.