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Good Friday, in all senses:

Stargazer leaves, a deserted Dover harbour, with the dawn.

In twenty knots of breeze, out of the south. Spray driving aft, from an exuberant bow wave. 

Hard on the wind. Angling south west, from beneath the chalk cliffs. 

To weather the Dungeness spit.

Riding the tide. Swooping down the rhumb line. Making eight knots over the ground.

Able now to ease sheets. For a thundering broad reach. Stargazer flying straight and true.

Into the Sovereign Harbour lock.

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A zephyr, from the south east, stirs the spring buds, atop the white cliffs of Dover.

Tomorrow, it is forecast to gain passage-making power.

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Clifftop ‘sound mirrors,’ warning sharp eared sentries, of impending aeriel threat, before the invention of radar, inspired the sculpture. Today unveiled, on Marina Curve, in readiness for forthcoming VE Day celebrations.

It is bright and breezy in Dover. With twenty five to thirty knots, blowing out of the south west.

The perfect day for an ascent to the castle battlements. Cap Gris Nez, on the French shore, sharply visible. Beyond the ranks of merchantmen, steaming through the Straits.

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Change is afoot, too, in the spring skies. As the season seeks to settle into a rhythm. Calms or strong, contrary, winds have been Stargazer's lot, since arrival in Dover. With tides fair until Easter.

There are promising signs, of a passage-making breeze, with some east in it, returning later this week, however. Stargazer's skipper stands, at the ready, on a daily dawn weather-watch.

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Change is abroad, on the Dover seafront. The Wellington Dock, where formerly 'project boats' saw out their final days, is outfitted with new pontoons. At which spruce, sea going, vessels lie waiting.

The Granville Dock, where Stargazer used to moor, is gone. Transformed into a giant sand pit, filled from the Goodwin shoals. Ready to expand shoreside facilities, for the ferry port, no wonder.

Market Square has a freshly scrubbed air. Its stone-built bank buildings repurposed, to house estate agents and coffee shops, in these digital times.

A sign of permanence, since William the Conqueror first fortified the White Cliffs, in 1066, Dover Castle stands foursquare on the skyline. Beneath a Union Jack, hoist high.

 

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Today's breeze has swung into the south west. Gusting thirty knots. A warm wind.

On a Sunday made for strolling. Along Dover’s promenade, admiring the grand old georgian facades.

Along newly built 'marina curve.' Where the neatly paved breakwaters, which shelter Stargazer, are studded with food stalls, seating and wind breaks.

Or, scunching along the shingle-beach foreshore, of the outer harbour. 

Watching ferries, being alternately swallowed and disgorged, by the haar, which stealthily lurks to seaward.

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Stargazer glides into Dover, as Two Bells, in the first dog watch (17.00) strikes; and fourteen knots, of afternoon sea-breeze, dies to a clock calm. Exactly as Meteo Consult had forecast.

Based on that forecast, we left Ramsgate as soon as the sun stirred the wind into action. Standing close in to the Deal shore. Cheating the tide, which had yet to turn in our favour, by hugging the shallows.

Broad reaching, through the diaphanous billows, of a light sea-haar, around the South Foreland. Whence the tide whisks us through the eastern entrance, of the Dover breakwater. Our short passage rendered all the more pleasurable, by a welcome absence of drama.