Iris' Knitting

The cruising chute gently bellies. There is no more than five knots of wind, and yet Stargazer begins to move. Her forward motion creates an apparent wind, which the sluicing channel tide enhances. She accelerates and settles to a steady four knots, on a smooth sea, barely ruffled by breeze. A process which borders on the magical, to me.

The white cliffs fall astern. Ahead, in the crystal clear conditions, the loom of Cap Griz Nez is already visible. Our trusty French Meteo Consult forecast app suggests that there will be a sea breeze filling in, off the the Normandy coast, around eleven am.

We ride the tide south, through the southbound shipping lanes, all the while edging over to the east - seeking our sea breeze. We need it, in order to be able to sail without the aid of the chute. So that we can come up higher on the wind and cross the northbound shipping lane at, something approaching, the regulation ninety degrees. Our search is rewarded. First with eight knots of breeze - enough for Stargazer to sail under white sails. Then with a seventeen knot romp in through the pier heads of Boulogne - sur - mer.

Dutch and Belgian ensigns stream from the sterns of yachts already tightly packed into the marina. The north easterlies have been a fair breeze for them as well as us. 

On closer examination: two of the four pontoons are missing - halving the available berths. The spring maintenance schedule disrupted by lock down. Boats circle. Looking for any available berth.

Stargazer strikes lucky. We shoehorn ourselves into a gap between heavy Dutch and German forty footers. Our red ensign is all that can be seen of us, after an ingenious (desperate?) Dutch Trintella 42, named Iris, neatly reverses alongside. She slots into the space where a finger would be, had it not been removed. She therefore has nothing solid to secure to. The German crew and I set about suspending Iris between us, in a kind of socially distanced raft. The end result is a cat’s cradle of lines. They are knitted into a pattern more complex than that for a fisherman's cable knit sweater. This process conducted in three tongues and sign language.

Above us on the quayside, the citizens of Boulogne stroll in the summer heat. Enjoying their Sunday.

The temptation is to tarry. But the ultra clear visibility, which we saw out in the Channel, is often a portent of poor weather to come. Meteo Consult agrees. There is a fair wind, and workable tide, for Dieppe tomorrow. We will be pressing south, once we have disentangled ourselves from Iris's knitting.