Hugo approached the window while turning on the radio… "Beautiful sea with little choppy, westerly swell 0.5 to 1 m, easterly to north-easterly winds, force 3 to 4 changing by the effect of the breeze. thermal in the middle of the day then strengthening in the western sector force 3 to 5 Beaufort depending on the effects of reliefs, sea becoming progressively rough, sea water temperature 17 to 19 ° degrees from north to south of the area… next bulletin from the marine weather forecast at 6:45 pm… ” The little“ Coïc ”in the morning shuddered in the coffee maker… The sun resumed its job abandoned the day before. Mustache, conscientiously languid on the window shelf, was already scrutinizing the trajectories of the sparrows that came to taunt him ...A quick and cool shower, check emails, collect phone messages, check SMS, prepare the waterproof bag, think about the bottles of "Plancouët", throw in some sweet treats, unplug the portable VHF from its charger, find the waterproof container , slip in his identity papers, keys, mobile, food, a bath towel….Dressed in old jeans, a T-shirt, the eternal "Glazic" and the essential "dockside", Hugo reached the pontoon where still sleepy "his walnut shell" vaguely awaited the departure ... finally? … Nothing less on… no news… ..bah…. No news…The leeward float gave off a beautiful spray of light spray, while the central hull barely touched the still calm surface of the sea. Hugo signed with his steed, their passage in the sea with 2 superficial scratches. 15 knots of wind, 12 knots of ship speed, heading 255 °, direct on the way point, true wind at 135 °, this wet and almost silent slide was ecstatic. “- the new blue and white spinnaker is magnificent…. "Estelle, comfortably wedged in the windward net, appreciated the spectacle of these waves sensually spread by the two bows, fleeing without shock under the ship to vanish far behind them both ... " - yes I do not regret our endless discussions this winter with Bertrand, his cut is good, beautiful and efficient, do you want to take the helm?… ”The anchor was now hooked, the spectacle of colors and reflections of the archipelago spread over 360 ° around them ... moments of simple happiness, of harmonies, pure, without noise, without effort, the Fort Cigogne which begins to shudder with his impatient apprentice sailors, the fishermen who return from lifting their nets, the boaters still asleep, the wind turbines of St Nicolas who cut the wind into thin slices, 2 children who rowing with their tenders, the crystalline waters which lets glimpse some bridles of existential battles on the bottom of clear sands, the gulls gulls and other cormorants, sated with their morning fishing which dry their feathers in the sun, the lapping of the calm waves echoing carefully on the hulls, everything and everyone took part in these insolent moments of well-being,in purchasable, without price, to be there and to contemplate a universe around you ...Estelle had put her oilskin to dry on the boom, and it was in light clothes that she had shared the frugal meal with Hugo. Now it was time for the sun's delight, she spread her sleeping bag open on the net overhanging the water and let herself be gently rocked by this double levitation ... Discreetly finishing the storage and other household chores on board, Hugo ended up lying down near of her in his big hammock, arranging however so that no contacts come to pull her from her reptilian drowsiness… he also abandoned himself gently to this saline plenitude… "- I love you" He thought he had made a of these eternal dreams, sweet, languid, sensual, no it came from outside… "- Hugo… I'm very close to you… I want your body… your warmth… of your scent of the sun… I want you against me… I want you in me… ” These words came out of that choosy mouth… whispered… slipped into his human depths… gently interfering and yet so explosive , exploding throughout his being, creating multiple ricochet blasts … Slowly he slipped at her feet, poured a can of solar oil into his hands… Lightly grabbing his right foot, he carefully placed his other hand on it flat, sliding slowly from his toes to his heel, returning incessantly, by different paths, to this delicate vault whose limits participate so actively in our balances… then he changed, passing to the left foot…Still in a cottony lethargy Estelle felt this cautious, patient and caring softness of Hugo, now appreciating the gentle and sometimes firm glides of both hands along her calves, softening her Achilles tendons, which have been harshly used in recent hours on the trampolines of the boats, as much as in those hectic journeys in the last show ...

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