The city of Vannes proclaims itself capital of the Morbihan, and dates back to Roman times. The Morbihan itself is an inland sea, about twice the size of Dublin Bay, with hundreds of Islands. A number of rivers flow into this sea, and these, combined with the narrow exit into the Bay of Biscay, lead to exciting currents of up to ten knots. Entering we rode the incoming tide, just a few hundred yards as far as Ile Longue, and there we dropped our anchor for lunch and a lazy evening playing cards and monopoly. I was to be reminded of my inexperience the next day when we planned to go the rest of the way up to Vannes. I had been aware of the strong currents at the entrance, but for some reason it hadn't dawned on me that these went pretty much all the way up to Vannes.
So Thursday morning, we weighed anchor, and as I tidied up the bow of the boat, still snug in the anchorage, I caught sight of a sailing boat heading out of the Morbihan at what appeared to be an unnatural pace. As I watched another boat went racing by, followed by several more. They were going at at least 15 knots. Now these sailing boats just don't go that fast. The penny dropped, the current, and it was going the wrong way! We picked up a mooring buoy, played cards again until lunch, and took the afternoon tide up to Vannes.
The marina in Vannes is right in the heart of the old town. They need lock gates to ensure that there is sufficient water there to keep the boats afloat, so going in or getting out is restricted to around high tide. There is a road bridge, which is swung open to allow the boats in. When we went through, having queued with a dozen other boats, avoiding a collision was something of a challenge. The bridge operator was calling something to us : “deux cent dix-neuf” he repeated, our berth had been assigned. We were lucky, just two minutes walk from the town centre, yet far enough back down river to dull the town noises.
It was here in Vannes that we were to have our first visitors, Bill and Rita. Now Rita's boating ambitions don't go beyond drinks in the cockpit whilst firmly secured in the marina. However, these she fulfilled in some style, arriving not just with the champagne, but laden with chocolates and other gifts. The weather was perfect, we had two evenings sipping our pre-dinner champagne, sheltering from the hot continental sun under Aragorn's bimini.
Walking through Vannes' narrow streets, with the upper floors of the buildings tiered out over our heads, I found myself instinctively walking close in to the sides for fear of what might be coming from the windows above. It was amazing to wander through street after street of houses built hundreds of years ago, with the original wood still in the exterior walls.
Vannes was also Matthew's departure point. On Monday Bill and Rita took him to the airport in La Rochelle on the next leg of their own journey. Catherine and I took an evening walk down the river to reccy the lock gates and the swing bridge in our own time.
The next morning we left Vannes with the ebb tide, the massive current sent us racing through the Morbihan and flushed us into the Bay of Biscay. Without Matthew now, from here on there would be just the two of us.
Copyright © Pat Egan, 2008, All rights reserved.
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