Les Sables d’Olonne showed us how quickly you can feel at home somewhere else. During the off-season we discovered it to be a tranquil, charming place with friendly inhabitants. So it was not easy for us to say goodbye to what felt like our home port. The time was too good, the mussels too delicious, the people too lovable, the carousel operators too familiar. The ever changing weather conditions, however, made rubber boots together with sun hats our constant companions and taught us the benefits of the good old fishing hat.

Four weeks should pass before we waved the famous harbor pier (just like Boris Herrmann next November) our final goodbye. In this time, we worked with the shipyard to complete the final tasks at the boat, exchanged ideas with other Ovni owners, made Nikola available as a showroom for prospective buyers and welcomed first family guests as well as an editor of a famous sailing journal for a test drive and photo shoot. In between, we often waited for good weather conditions to gather more first hand experience ourselves.

At some point, however, the day of departure arrived – unsurprisingly postponed by a day due to wind and waves. On the fifth of May, we cast off the lines and set off on our adventure. The still windy and wavy conditions meant that we reached our first destination, Ile d’Yeu, an Island known for its tuna fishing, very wet. But the small island made us forget the effort in no time (after just one more stormy and rainy day). It was so green, fragrant and picturesque. Together with hordes of French holidaymakers, we explored the island and its unique flair by bike, enjoying the landscape, beautiful little harbors, beaches and truly the best moules frites yet.

Another 34 nautical miles and a fantastic day of sailing led us to the seaside town of Pornichet. Once again, we mingled with the local holidaymakers. Consequently, this meant laying on the beach and playing in the water. All three of us mastered the 14 degree water temperature in the Atlantic. The summer season had begun, officially noted in the logbook.

And after Pornichet came Quiberon. Now, we’re making progress, getting used to the way we’re moving along the French coastline, venturing out for our first trip in a few hours at night and gaining confidence in our radar, which shows us unlit buoys and rain fronts. The same applies to our skills on land: we now collect our own oysters...