Saturday July 22nd was a great day for two Americans in France - both sporting yellow. In Montceau les Mines, 200 miles southeast of Paris, Floyd Landis capped a remarkable comeback in the Tour de France, recapturing the Maillot jaune in the final time trial and all but certain victory the following day in Paris. 200 miles to the south, in the port town of Sete on the Mediterranean coast of France, Alex MeVay docked his Mini Bateau jaune, completing a 35 day, 4,135 nautical mile solo journey that started Jun 16th in Boston, Though there were not thousands of cheering fans there to greet Alex when arrived in Sete - a French couple and their daughter were there to catch his lines at the dock - his Tour d'Atlantique et Med is a very impressive achievement. Having sailed almost the full distance of the Mini Transat on a single leg, solo, Alex may well have made one of the longest single-handed passages ever done on a Mini.

Alex posted his final report from onboard, shortly after he arrived. Now that he's back on terra firma, he will be able to provide a much more detailed report of his own personal Mini Transat, along with some pictures, both of which will be posted on the Minis in America website.

Until then, we at Minis in America say Bien fait Alex! And Bienvenue a France.

Jeffrey Dingle • M65 USA • "A Mini Made in America"

After bobbing around for a while in subsiding winds, at 2045Z, I docked at Sete! (43N23.8 3E42.1) My lines were caught by Christian and Christian, who were on vacation cruising with Christian's daughter Amelie (what else?). I spent two hours or so talking with them and enjoying some beer and snacks, before crashing out. Totals were 4135nm, 35d5h20m, for an average speed of 4.9 kts.

July 22nd

Walked into Sete to find Customs. The man there said that the office was closed, but that no formalities were necessary?! If he was wrong, I'll probably have a visit from the black helicopters soon. My leg cramped up after only a mile. I don't think I lost much weight, but I guess it will take a little while to get back into shape.

I set out for Port Camargue mid-morning. Today was the start of the race, so I at least wanted to try to see the fleet. I sailed to intersect their course, based on their first mark and starting time. The first leg was upwind though, and the fleet was beating up the coast. By the time I saw the boats, I was already behind them, and wasn't able to get very close. It was still a pretty awesome sight to see 30 or so big-roached mains, unmistakably Minis, powered up and flying along the coast.

I arrived in Port Camargue in the evening (43N31.2 4E07.4, 36nm), checked in at the marina, and was towed over to the Mini pier. It's amazing to be tied up next to a dozen or so Minis, even after 30 or more just left for the race. The boats that remain are mostly older, a little sad looking, though with a few spanky new Pogo 2's and Super Calins. I've definitely been gawking a lot, looking for all the little tweaks and tricks. Out of the hundreds of piers here, the Mini pier is second in from the harbor entrance, which shows the respect les Ministes are accorded here. It's a nice change.

Port Camargue, like most French marinas, amazes me. The town is a vast network of waterways lined with slips, covering probably at least a square mile, with thousands of boats. Ashore is mostly concrete apartment buildings and condos, with restaurants on the lower level. I'm usually pretty revolted by such things, but these are different. All the buildings are sloped back, so they don't block the sun. The buildings are modern, and extremely evocative. The shapes of some suggest heeled over sailboats. Some have concrete fins, almost like sea creatures. Others look like waves, either breaking or those of a calm sea. I saw another set of buildings from the water that had a series of ribs that looked like the upside-down hull of a wooden tallship under construction. Or maybe the skeleton of an enormous whale. Aside from the chimney that looks like a ship's smokestack, the harbormaster's office looks like it would be more at home in a middle-eastern desert, with stark tan concrete and organic curves. There is a ramp leading up the back of it to a terrace that overlooks the marina. Why can't American architects have this much fun? No, I don't think Gehry counts.

Once I got the boat cleaned up a little, I got my shower, and shaved off my beard. "Beard" may be a generous term, since there appears to be a difference between "growing a beard" and "not shaving for a month." Afterwards, I wandered around the waterfront. This being a Saturday (so I found out.), there was a lot of activity: outdoor music, an open-air market selling touristy junk and art, bands at restaurants. I found a restaurant and got my steak. When it came time to pay, their machine (a portable credit card machine they called the "Game Boy") wouldn't take my card, so the waiter actually walked me to an ATM so I could take some cash out (it was near closing.). I guess it's time to find a credit card with a chip in it, which is what they use over here. Things didn't shut down until around midnight, but that's more due to the fact that this area is very far to the west for its time zone. Good for slackasses like me. Sunset isn't until 9pm, and I don't think I actually got to the restaurant until at least 10pm.

I'll be hanging out here until the awards ceremony on 7/30 to meet all the other Ministes and see how they make their boats go fast. I'll bet they could use some solar charge controllers... After, I'll be storing the boat until September for the Mini Barcelona, and our assault on the Balearics.

-Alex