“If you want to build a ship, don’t
drum up the men to gather wood, divide
the work, and give orders. Instead,
teach them to yearn for the vast and
endless sea.”

  ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Early this year we heard that the well known competitor to Outremer, Marsaudon Composites, had gone bankrupt. They made slightly lighter, slightly faster and slightly more spartan boats than Outremer, and had a reputation as being a bit scary to sail. For that reason we had ruled them out, as we wanted something more manageable for our first boat. As the boatyard entered bankruptcy proceedings, I began to have certain suspicions.

Sure enough, Outremer bought ORC/ Marsaudon, and moved production of the 45/ 4x to Lorient, France. This is a very different location than where we thought our boat would be built, in La Grande Motte. Lorient is on the north coast of France, butting up against the northern part of the Bay of Biscay. In the department of Brittany, it is more culturally interesting, with better food than LGM, which almost makes up for the cold and wet winter climate. However, in order to get anywhere once we had the boat we needed to cross the Bay of Biscay. Historically (and currently) notorious, the Bay of Biscay is known for strong winds, storms, and chaotic seas. A perfect first passage for new boat owners, particularly in December. A certain segment of the internet says that this crossing in winter is categorically impossible and you will definitely die if you attempt it. While I had a marginally more realistic expectation for the trip, I was still nervous, and read everything I could about sailing Biscay. Luckily we had negotiated some help with Outremer, and they sent us a skipper, Mateo, to help us with the crossing. He proved to be competent, funny, and a great addition to the crew for the passage. We left Saturday, December 14 at around 4pm, motoring out of Lorient into a nice northwest wind. We got the sail up and started across the small channel towards the island of Groix. The first problem I noticed was that the main sheet was chafing on the bimini edge. This wasn’t good. We took the sail down, and rigged up a dyneema strap to pull the sheet connection backwards on the boom. This made the problem 90 percent better, but was not ideal. Sail back up. Then we noticed that the first batten was bending unnaturally at the mast connection. I thought it was broken. We took another reef, to remove that batten from use. Now we were limited to a main with two reefs for our whole crossing. I thought this was not optimal, but we were still going along at over 10 knots in around 18 knots of wind so that was ok. Later, we discovered that the batten was too short for some reason. Add it to the list to be replaced later. As it became dark, and the full moon rose out of the east, we left Groix to drop behind the horizon and sailed out into the bay. It was cold. There was wind. I bounced around in bed all night, and we made excellent progress, even limited to a double reefed sail. I went to bed at the end of my watch and apparently slept fairly well. At 4AM Kate was on watch, and was startled into near panic by the bilge alarm. She dashed down into the port hull, and upon pulling up the cabin sole discovered a large amount of water sloshing about. Briefly, visions of our brand new boat sinking, at night in the cold of Biscay danced in her head. She tasted the water and was relieved to find fresh water, not salt. Mateo came out of bed and they spent some time sponging and bucketing out all the water. I managed to sleep through all the drama. The following day we had more water in the port side, and cleaned it very well to try to find the leak. We couldn’t see anything that was a problem, so left it alone, somewhat mystified. Later in the trip, when we went on a different tack, the starboard hull began to fill with water. We determined that there is either still a freshwater leak, or Outremer fixed the leaks in Lorient but water had already collected under the salon floor, where it spills over when the boat heels. The next morning was sunny, and the wind began to steadily drop until around noon, when we started the starboard engine and began motoring. This was much slower than sailing, and we spent the day eating, hanging out in the sun, and cleaning the bilges, again, trying to find the leak. The sun and warmth was such a pleasant change. Since Spain, over a month ago, we really hadn’t been warm outside. While it wasn’t actually that warm, I was able to wear a t-shirt for a little while. As it got dark, and we finished dinner, the wind came back up, and we turned off the motor, sailing into the night. I was able to rest much better, and woke up for my morning watch to the sight of land. While we still had a long way to go, it was cool to see Spain. The wind was expected to drop throughout the day, but we were able to sail until sunset, when we took the sails down and began motoring in earnest. We passed the channel marker buoys at midnight, and motored into the A Coruña harbor. We found our way into the marina and to our spot, which was an easy hammerhead at the end of the pontoon; a nice surprise. Then we went to sleep. Our Biscay crossing took 2 days and 8 hours. I think that's a fairly good time, particularly since we could not use the mainsail beyond the second reef. The boat impressed. We plan to be here in A Coruña for three days, while a couple low pressure systems blow through. The weather looks good for a Friday run to the south, where we will find a place to hide until it looks good for a dash through Gibraltar.