anticipated, anchoring off Rosconvel a village on the south shore of the Rade. Here the weather caught up with us, winds 30+ knots, heavy rain and at times very poor visibility. We sat this out for two days then with improving conditions made our way up the River Aulne towards Port Launay and Chateaulin our favourite spot in these parts: we have visited here for the last 10 years. The tide flows fast in this beautiful river. There are however, some peaceful anchorages out of the tide and it is worth allowing time for a day or so here en route. We were motoring along enjoying the scenery when we heard bagpipes! Alec our piping C.A. friend had anchored overnight, seen us coming and in all his highland finery piped us up the river. It was his first trip up the Aulne and he was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. For 20 miles the river is tidal with a lock one mile downstream from Port Launay, it then continues for many miles as a canal meandering through rural Brittany.
We moored alongside the quay at Port Launay (electricity, water, one shop and one bar), making ourselves comfortable as we intended to stay for a few days. The weather was improving and the forecast good. The lock only opens high water Brest so there is little disturbance on the river, little happening ashore with the exception of the transport restaurant at the lock who serve a three course lunch, wine, water and coffee for around £5, and the nearest town, Chateaulin, two miles upstream. We always stock up with food, wine and beer at Chateaulin for our trips further south. The hypermarket is very close to the quay so it is easy for a dinghy or boat to take on stores. Cycling, walking and socialising passed a very relaxed week and the evening before our planned departure Alec challenged us to a Petanque match. As neither of us had played before the rules were explained, wine and nibbles produced and the game commenced. Things were progressing quite well – I think the wine was helping because we were leading 5-2, when one of the boules started to roll down the grass slope towards the river. Dick went after it and suddenly fell in a heap on the quay: I thought ‘clumsy devil’, but poor man, he didn’t trip, his leg gave way and he just couldn’t get up. At first he thought that it was a dislocated knee because of its odd shape, but whatever, it was obviously serious and could we call an ambulance. A local resident called one for us, I collected our E111, passports and travel documents and secured the boat. Within minutes the ambulance, with siren wailing, arrived. Another local who is a retired English teacher and who had done his teaching practice as a student in Swansea, then arrived and interpreted between the paramedics, who in France are fire fighters, and Dick. Once his leg was immobilised off we went to Quimper hospital some ½ hour away.
On registering, the first thing I was asked for was our E111. Dick was diagnosed as having ruptured his Quadriceps tendon, the tendon that attaches the front thigh muscle to the kneecap: this requires urgent surgical intervention. It was by now just before 11pm. and the surgeon was unavailable so it was repaired the next morning under a spinal anaesthetic. Dick shared a two-
