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Amidst tears, damp handkerchiefs and endless wavings, the taxi drove slowly down the road, over the roundabout and on to La Rochelle’s airport. We stood a while, looking, and hoping beyond hope that the taxi would turn around and come back.
You see, John and Beryl are accepted as part of the family. We recognise this, my parents recognised this, as do our children. Family occasions of all sorts just wouldn’t be the same if John and Beryl weren’t there.
That’s why it was so hard to say goodbye.
St Martin de Ré
Surrounded by its early 17th Century fortifications originally designed by Cardinal Richelieu and later strengthened by Vauban, the small town of St Martin on the Île de Ré gleams with worn pavements, small alleyways adorned with hollyhocks, and square stone buildings with blue shutters and roofs of old, warm orange Mediterranean tiles.
A moat surrounds the fort’s inner sanctum half of which is locked to form the marina. No longer a citadel, the inner sanctum is now a few small street cafés and shops. St Martin de Ré is abuzz with life.
The weather changed

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Winds increased and the seas began to deliver a short, marked swell. Temperatures dropped and the humidity rose uncomfortably high.
The next two nights saw lightning and dramatic thunder storms bringing rain laden with copious amounts of dirt and dust held suspended for these last many weeks. Play d’eau became filthy and needed another one of her soapy bubble baths.
Where now?
Given only Lin and I were on board, it was quiet. No exciting tastings of the challenge to find a drinkable red wine as close to €2 as possible (it was €1 nine years ago); John wasn’t there to raise or strike the ensign at the correct times (two alarm clocks as reminders), or to source morning croissants. The list goes on. As I said, it was quiet.
Interestingly, it didn’t seem to matter where we went now. We couldn’t make our minds up. We found ourselves saying, ‘John and Beryl would have loved…’
The option was either Les Sables d’Olonne (again) or the beautiful, small Île d’Yeu. With the weather closing in our feeling of adventure was at a low ebb. We chose the safe option of Les Sables, but to use the Olona marina rather than Quai Garnia.
Our homeward journey northwards had to start.
Our last night
Having had such a great meal at Les Embruns with John and Beryl we had to return before leaving.
Welcomed back by the Chef to this small, boutique restaurant with its 13 tables, we had another magnificent meal. Some of the most adventurous and exciting cooking we’d had in years. We tried calling John and Beryl to share the fun. The calls went unanswered.
En route

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Being sheltered by the island, the sea was flat. A number of shoals of sardines were creating energetic ruffles on the surface. We wondered what was chasing them for their breakfast.
As we neared the north of the island the swell rose and the ride became uncomfy.
Nearing Les Sables, the numerous trawlers and small fishing boats which inhabit (plague?) this area appeared on the radar.
Checking into Olona’s Capitainerie we were given one of the best moorings in this large but quiet marina.
Where next- and when?
The weather has certainly changed. The wind and swell are both high angered by a series of tight depressions ganging up against the west coast. The forecast shows we could be stuck in Les Sables for well over a week.
So where next? We have no idea. We may end up making an unsightly dash up the west coast and around the Finistère Peninsula to be in Roscoff for the 19 August where we hope to pick up our next guest, David, whom we’ve known since the early 1970s. We’ll see.
Met data

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Sea state: 1½m swell from the west
Les Sables d’Olonne: Clear skies, NW3
Nav data
Times are FST.
Date: 21 July 2015
Departed St Martin de Ré: 0920
Arrived Les Sables d’Olonne: 1242
Pinchpoint: St Martin lock times
Longest leg: 17.5nm
Time en route: 3hr 22min
Planned distance: 25.9nm
Tech issues: Nil
Piers and Lin
from the Pilot House of
Play d’eau
Fleming 55
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