Buddy in France

THE WATERY EXPLOITS OF NIGEL
Episode 1
It came to pass that in the year 2004, for the first stage of summer hols , our mob decided to take up an offer from my big bruvs family, who was coming over to France on his yacht (the dodge will like this one). Unfortunately, the date coincided with a wedding invitation from one of Myriams best friends, and was an offer not to refuse on her behalf. I, however, managed to dodge out of the arrangement by stating that I had already agreed with my brother to take the ferry over to blighty and help him gettingover to France (the most sensitive maneuver from a yachtsman's point of view). Okay, I arrange with Myriam to drive down and meet us, somewhere on the Brittany coast (wherever we happened to be at this particular time), along with the oiks, the day after the wedding to spend the rest of the week on the boat. I duly took the ferry from Cherbourg to Poole on the Friday night and got myself installed on the boat at Cobbs Key, ready to depart early the Saturday morning. Of course several beverages were consumedin the yacht club bar beforehand (we had to meet up and plan the course with friends of my bruv who would accompany us). Right, Saturday morning. Got to catch Poole bridge by 08h30, so, bad heads withstanding, we frantically loaded up the boat with the contents of my brother and sister-in-laws house (my brother had, apparently, managed to get most of it back to the house following the previous trip. Unfortunately his wife, bless her, had managed to covertly smuggle most of it back on board). So, with enoughbacon, sausages, baked beans, cheddar, beer, ice making machine and wine etc. to sustain one of Napoleons winter campaigns we duly set off on an estimated 28 hour stint across to our first port of call, Aber'wrach in Brittany. Now, this is the first time I have ever traversed the channel in a pleasure craft (my only experience previously limited to car ferries, therefore in total oblivion of what the hell is going on outside in the real world). We're talking about a gigantic motorway here, several mileswide and something akin to the M25 on a Friday night coming home from work, only here, it's container ships and super tankers on the road. It's alright in daylight, but once night falls, you're reduced to a quivering wreck trying to work out which way they are going and attempting to avoid the damn things (no way can they stop if you get in their way, they all be doin about 25 knots). Well, we managed to escape unscathed and did arrive at our first port, though we didn't sleep a wink that night. Aah,Aber'wrach, la belle France. We were now three boats, another of me bruvs friends had already arrived and booked our berths. A night out on the sparse town was enjoyed by all. Head pains ensued the following morning and were not alleviated by the arrival of the French coastguard cutter, the crew of which proceeded to carry out a control of bits of paper pertinent to the vessel. Unfortunately, me bruv had forgotten to bring the most important of all, the deeds of ownership! I tried to reason with them inFrench, but to no avail. Clive had to cough up ?200 in cash, no credit cards here merci. Pretty expensive first day out in France. Not to dismay, we all left in high spirits thinking to put this regrettable instant behind us as it was unlikely that we would experience it again. We continued on our winding way down the Brittany coast stopping at various ports and partaking of French solid and liquid sustenance, with no notable mishaps. More to follow...