Dandelion 141

 

The smiles are broad, upon the Dover promenade. Or, to give it the official title: Marina Curve. (Part of the ongoing uplift of waterfront amenities)

Live music and deckchairs are provided. Bring your own beverages. Enjoy a Sunday afternoon sing along.

Stargazer left Eastbourne in the pre-dawn twilight. Headed for the shimmering bright lights of Hastings.

We watch as the sun claws its way clear of a fug of low cloud.

Gilding the cliffs.

In Stargazer's cockpit, her skipper is soon peeling off the layers. The run of early onset, autumnal mornings, has been punctuated by a shorts and polo shirt day.

Stargazer reels in the black silhouettes, on the horizon. A fair tide beneath her. The breeze on her quarter. Until the Dungeness power stations have colour and texture, as well as shape.

We shave the tip of the spit close. Having been chased further south, than we would have wished, by live firing on the Lydd gunnery range.

The speed of the tide, hereabouts, sweeps all but the largest shingle away. The remaining pebbles stack at a sharp angle. Giving deep water near in and no shelter for the fishing boats. Which must be hauled, beyond the reach of the sea, by bulldozers.

Stargazer runs before a rising breeze. Under main only. The white cliffs of Dover ahead.

The town is eclipsed by the sea wall of the port. Which is, in turn, dwarfed by the chalk face of the South Foreland. Approaching from the south, the entrance is difficult to discern. But critical not to miss. For the tide is so swift that a return would be slow work, at best. Or, with the wind behind us, in all likelihood, not possible.

Stargazer picks her moment to gybe, across the tide. We sweep into the harbour. Going almost as fast sideways as forwards. Port Control conjouring a suitable gap, in the stream of traffic.