An English Summer 91

 

After the warm windless days, of Indian Summer, the breeze is back. Still from the east, but even beating, Eastbourne is only thirty nautical miles from Brighton (straight line it is around twenty). This is too good an opportunity to miss! Stargazer puts to sea.

 Our exploration of the charismatic city is on hold, until we can next return.

We tack up, beneath the chalk cliffs, in eighteen to twenty three knots apparent, under double reefed main and full jib.

Stargazer reaches Beachy Head at twelve thirty. Just as the tide changes its direction of flow, from east to west. We had to wait, on our berth in Brighton, for enough depth to leave it. Squandering the first two hours of the east going flow. Now we will pay a price, for that delay.

Stargazer butts valiantly through the swell, kicked up off the headland. Through the water she is making just short of six knots. Over the ground we are down to four, fighting the tide.

The wind eases down to ten knots. Stargazer's speed, over the ground, falls to two knots. I shake out the reefs. Now we are making almost three knots. I engage autopilot, make a pot of coffee and a cheese and pickle sandwich. Eat lunch in the sunshine, as slowly, ever so slowly, we leave that red and white striped sentinel, and the tall white headland, astern.

By fifteen hundred we are off the Sovereign Harbour locks. Cryptic messages are being exchanged between lock and Lifeboat, on the vhf. Talk of 'disembarking' first on the fuel berth, then in the locks. An 'All Ships' message that one lock will be closed. Then 'No outbound locks until further notice'.

The reason soon becomes apparent. The head of the second lock has become an 'Incident Centre.' Cordoned off with multiple agencies present. Its perimeter secured by officers wearing body armour.

I moor Stargazer beside the lifeboat. (Her bow just visible, left of picture, with blue stripe, beneath the gentleman standing on the coach roof, of the boat alongside her). The crew are standing down, after the rescue of one hundred and one migrants, who are now being 'processed,' at the lock, before being led away, aboard three coaches.