The Power of a Dream?

The sun clambers up into a clear blue sky, above Pyefleet Creek . Stargazer lies companionably, at anchor, alongside Pioneer in the lee of the low heath land of the spit.

A gentle breeze fills in as noon approaches. The tide turns in our favour. We make sail.

Stargazer slips out past the pastel beach huts of Brightlingsea harbour.

Its a lazy, tide assisted, drift out over the bar to the Swin spitway.

We ease sheets, hoist the cruising chute and broad reach south, toward the Kent shore.

At sunset I hand the chute and gybe round, to catch the first of the flood tide into the Medway. Stargazer ambles over the swell. Woooshh, hisss, woooshh, hisss woooshh, hisss. Deep sleepy breaths.

 The shipping, outward bound from London, rumbles by in the deep water channel to starboard. Bound, into the darkness, for far off shores. There's a bitter sweet moment at the end of every cruise. Part fond re-acquaintance with the familiar anchorages of home waters. Part dreaming of new ports to be explored, new passages yet to be sailed - longing for the cruise to continue. We anchor in Godwit Creek. Our way lit by long shadowed, silvery, moonlight. The night magically still.

The power of a dream is a strong force. Overnight we voyage, in cyberspace at least, to Terneuzen on the Westerschelde. Our landfall of a year ago. A happy echo from the past.

On-line japes are afoot on the Marine Traffic tracking app. Stargazer has been electronically spirited across the tumbling waters of the North Sea, in the twilight hours of the night, whilst we rested in our tranquil anchorage - dreaming of night passages to come.