It was in 1970, during my time as a conscript in the navy. We were two months in France, and stayed for a couple of days in La Pallice (La Rochelle's port).
That was very frustrating after two weeks in Biarritz and Arcachon. So, we mainly stayed in the local bars and played cards there. One day, I had quite a bit of luck ... and trebled my "salary". When trying to get some sleep afterwards, I was woken up and ask to join a couple of seamen to a casino. (They had been invited by a local businessman.)
I remember that we had a nice time in the casino.
I woke up on a pontoon, 12 meters below the quay, attached just by chains, on the opposite side of the basin where my boat was, about one nautical mile away ... But I could hear "· − − ·", saw the Blue Peter
and the funnel smoke ... running, running ...
Fortunately, "The chief" had somehow "lost" both his peaked caps and waited for me to do some translations. I could exchange them against two crates of Pilsner Urquell.
No-one could tell me, how I arrived there (it certainly must have been during high tide, so I could narrow the time).