The Stuff of Dreams

A splash of evening sunshine bathes Stargazer in a relaxing glow.She lies rafted between a Sadler 29, out of the Blackwater, and a Jeanneau 349, out of Poole - both bound for Whitby. Ahead and astern, on The Royal Norfolk and Suffolk Yacht Club visitor's pontoon, are more craft rafted three deep. Lowestoft is Bank Holiday full! Forecasts are the main topic of conversation among us. A whistling westerly wind rakes the crowded harbour, with an increase expected for tomorrow. 

We left Pin Mill before dawn and crept out to sea past the outstretched crane arms,blazing lights and busy electric hum of the Container Port of Felixstowe. An industrial microcosm, where unseen ant people serve behemoth machines, incongruously sandwiched between the idyllic peace of the Orwell's wooded shores and the boundless freedoms of the sea beyond.

Our orange cruising chute brightens a day when grey sea merges seamlessly with grey sky. It magically conjours passage making progress from the unlikely ingredients of  6 knots of south west breeze, and a fair tide. We sail the angles, gybing out wide of the candy striped light tower on Orford Ness' low promontory to clear our wind, from the interference of the land, and find the strongest tide. Through the day, the wind builds and with it our speed: 5 knots, 6 knots, 7 knots. I furl the chute, while I still can, and set the genoa. The breeze is round to the west now, blowing a solid 23 knots. Stargazer surfs powerfully on the swell, ploughing a straight white furrow through the turbid tea brown North Sea waters. 8 knots, 9 knots. A day of sailing perfection which will linger long in my memory, if not on camera.The stuff of dreams.

Boats of the North Sea nations lie cheek by jowl along the pontoon in Lowestoft's harbour. British, Belgian, Dutch and (round from the Baltic) a lone Polish yacht. Each crew waiting for their weather window. In common we have tales of ports visited and dreams of landfalls to come.