Dandelion 9

 

Stargazer lopes effortlessly down Channel. Lifting to the swell. The dawn sun at her back, twelve knots of northerly breeze on her beam.

In the distance, on the starboard bow, a blocky mirage shimmers. Buildings seemingly rise from the sea. Like the re-emergence of a brutalist, concrete, Atlantis.

Ten miles later, the shingle spit, on which the Dungeness nuclear power stations are built, reveals itself. Glowing tawny brown.

A full moon lit Stargazer's way out of Dover, this morning. Speeding her toward the shimmering lights of Folkestone, with a sluicing spring tide.

The first rays, of daybreak, glint off Folkestone's habour wall, as Stargazer sweeps west.

Whilst the South Foreland, with Dover at its foot, dwindles astern.

Away to port, the loom of the French shore. Cap Gris Nez. Three 'red eye' passenger ferries in the offing.

Dungeness rounded, Stargazer comes up on the wind. Throwing a foaming bow wave. Scenting that the freedom, of open Atlantic waters, lies close at hand.

We thread the labyrynth, of crab pots, laid in the shoals of the Hastings shore. As the tide begins to turn against us. Cheating the full force of its flow.

Stargazer thunders into Sovereign Harbour, Eastbourne, on a flying fetch.

Dandelion 8

 

My 02.00 alarm call sounds. The forecast looks manageable: northerly twenty four knots, dropping to seventeen later. A fair tide awaits. I open the hatch. Bullets, of horizontal rain, ambush me from the darkness. As a squall sends Stargazer reeling, on her berth.

I return to the warmth of my bunk. Reawakening at a more civilised hour. To take the air, atop the white cliffs, on, what has transformed into, a brisk spring day. (Now that the tide has turned).

Out in the Channel, freighters and ferries duck and weave. As they hurry about their business.

I picnic on the wooded slopes, beneath the castle. Warmed by the sun. Wondering what passage-making possibilities tomorrow may bring.

Dandelion 7

 A whickering roar draws my eyes skyward. The triumphant twelve cylinder song, of a Rolls-Royce Merlin aero engine. The silhouette is unmistakable: elliptical wings and bubble cockpit. It is a lone, Battle of Britain, Spitfire, "One of. . . . (Churchill's). . . .few." 

It circles in a patch of blue sky. Torn through the racing grey cumulo-cumulus clouds. Which boil above Dover Castle, like the smoke from a rolling naval broadside. Swept to seaward on the north wind.

The depth, of those dark clouds, creates fierce gusts. Fickle forecasts change at each bulletin. Although a consensus is building, around a lull midweek. Meanwhile, our dependable friend, the moon, guarantees fair tides over the coming seven days. Stargazer's next passage-making window may be forming. . . . .

Dandelion 6

 

A sun, as sharp as the north wind is keen, lights lowering black skies. Beneath them, Saturday morning sailors re-colonise the Wellington Dock. Which had been cleared of its boats, and pontoons, for an over-winter dredge.

 Whilst a ceaseless stream of ferries process back and forth, from Calais. Funnelling through the Eastern Entrance, of the outer harbour. From which Cap Gris Nez is clearly visible, so cleansed is the atmosphere.

Out in the Channel, it is blowing twenty five knots. Expected to rise to thirty overnight. In Dover marina, conditions are perfect to dry Stargazer's washing. Whilst we swap sailor's tales, with crews on passage and weekending berth holders alike.

The soft scrunch, of sea-scend on shingle foreshore drifts soporifically across the breakwater. As forecast models are compared, and tidal strategies are debated, over mugs of steaming coffee.

Dandelion 5

 

Today, the wind whistles once more. But Stargazer lies sheltered, beneath the battlements of Dover Castle.

Last night she anchored, cradled in the serpentine twists of Sharfleet Creek. The water still, as the gusts, of a passing front, rattled her rigging.

Dawn breaks, crisp and clear. The wind down to eighteen knots. Geese honking exuberantly, as they take wing.

Stargazer slips silenty into the river, under full sail. Hard on the wind, her new jib drawing to perfection. Making five knots over the flood. Eager to make the most of this 'sailor's breeze.' For a new blow is forecast to be upon us, by evening. 

Clear of the Medway, Stargazer eases sheets onto a fetch. Thundering east, down the London River. Into the dawn. Toward the Channel.

Hugging the sylvan Kent shore. Taking the 'overland route,' short cut. Marked by the twin stone towers, of the twelth century church, at Reculver.

Whilst the merchantmen ply the Princes Channel, beyond the busy turbines of the Kentish Flats wind farm.

By noon Stargazer is off North Foreland. Rolling uneasily, as the wind falls light. Beneath her, the tidal streams, of the English Channel and London River, tussel for supremacy. Kicking up a disorderly rumpus.

We drift south, on the tide, sails slatting, boom banging, in a jaw clenching chaos. Whilst zephyrs circle fitfully overhead. Off Ramsgate, a gentle westerly bellies Stargazer's limp sails. Returning the chuckle to her bow wave and the smile to her skipper's lips.

Stargazer sweeps down Channel. Past Deal, to the South Foreland. Where the wind snaps abruptly easterly, building fast. Stargazer foams through Dover's Eastern Entrance. Overhead, ominous clouds gather. Announcing that our brief weather window is now closing.

Dandelion 4

 

A shaft of sunlight lances through Stargazer's forehatch. Waking me, in my bunk below. Silence bathes the marina. The wind roar gone, folks yet to stir.

I check the (ever evolving) forecast. There may be a brief window, in which to leave the Kent shore and head down Channel. Certainly breezes are northerly, thus favourable. Less assured is their strength. But at least, once around the North Foreland, they should be from astern.

Stargazer hoists full sail. Coming to life after her long hibernation. Helm tugging communicatively in my hand, as gusts roll down river. I ease the mainsheet. Her helm steadies. Seaward we sweep, the tide beneath us. The rush of water, and trill of birdsong, filling my ears.

A powerful spring sun warms my upturned face. As I steer, tucked down behind Stargazer's windscreen. Checking tide times, on the iPad, as I go. By mid ebb we are nearing the confluence of the Medway and the London River. Too late, to carry a fair tide around the Foreland, today.

But well placed to sound in among the sheltering shoals of Sharfleet Creek. To await tomorrow's down Channel tide; and the new day’s forecast.

Dandelion 3

 

Out in the river, forty knots of breeze sends moored boats bucking and pitching. The waters churned white, as tide fights wind. Atop the castle keep, the Union Jack strains upward, reaching for the scampering clouds.

Within the granite walls and tall lock gates, of the (former) naval dockyard, in which Nelson's Victory was built, Stargazer lies sheltered. Astern, on the Chatham Heritage Berth, the famous Lively Lady rests.

On July 16th 1967 Alec Rose, a retired greengrocer, set out to circumnavigate the globe aboard her. Singlehanded. He returned triumphant, to Portsmouth, on July 4th 1968. Launching a national celebration. A flotilla of wellwishers escorted him past The Forts. Whilst a crowd of 250,000 cheered his homecoming, from the quaysides. A week later, the Queen knighted him.

The diminutive, thirty six foot, cutter was built in Calcutta, in 1948. Stoutly, of old growth, forest teak baulks. Intended as railway sleepers for the Assam Bengal Railway. Now, Lively Lady has been lovingly restored, by the volunteers of the Around & Around charity.

To provide life skills and sail training, for disadvantaged young adults. And joy and inspiration, for her young-at-heart custodians.

Since Easter, three vigorous lows, have brought warm sunshine and strong headwinds. Now a change is in the air. A cooler, more moderate, northerly flow appears likely to set in. More conducive to progress down Channel. As are next week's tides. Soon, Stargazer's patient wait may be rewarded.

Credits

Picture 3: Sir Alec Rose, arrival in Portsmouth, 1968 - courtesy of Getty Images

Picture 4: Lively Lady, interior restored - courtesy of Paul Wyeth

Picture 5: Lively Lady, in her element - courtesy of Paul Wyeth