Ad Lib 13

 

"You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows." Is Bob Dylan's view. And he has a point, when forty knot gusts swoop upon the Eastbourne shore from the south.

A direction from which it is open. The chalk bulwark of Beachy Head unable to offer a sheltering lee, without a more westerly slant.

Dieppe lies more or less directly in the eye of today’s wind. As does the shortest route home for Kindred Spirit. At least until she rounds Beachy Head.

Where she can hoist sail for a blistering reach to Brighton. Whose entrance is likely to be on the lively side.

Although Meteo Consult suggests that, by the time she reaches it, the breeze may have abated to a more manageable twenty knots.

 Perhaps a new sentry was on duty, at Meteo Consult, this morning. For I was granted full forecast access at our dawn check. Sparing Stargazer a lengthy beat in uncomfortably boisterous conditions. 

Ad Lib 12

 

Technical troubles, of the IT variety, set my eyeballs spinning and scramble my mind.

My trusty Meteo Consult weather app refuses to grant me access. The paywall having seemingly turned highwayman. Claiming to have no knowledge of my annual subscription. Demanding an additional monthly fee, 'stand and deliver' style. A fusillade of re-installations, updates and reboots fails to deter the villain. When, in desperation, I finally pay up, the duplicitous, screen blocking, ne’er do well still denies me my forecasts.

I retreat and circle. Attempting to gain side entry, through a website site log in, on the lap top. Where a message declares that Meteo Consult's servers are off line. Being a Saturday, my French pen pal on the helpdesk Karine, does not return my messages.

No sophisticated forecast is required today. For the devil's violin shrieks in Stargazer's rigging, making our best course of action clear. But tomorrow, there is potential for a fast reach accross to Dieppe, on the tail of the blow. Or, for a twelve hour roller coaster rodeo ride, if the system slows overnight.

I seek solace in pastures new. Windy is a much used weather app and comes with a beguiling sister called Wind Hub. This enables a course to be plotted, departure time selected and anticipated speed to be set. A Windy forecast, algorithmically adjusted for time (I think), shows wind strength along the selected route. The prediction is for no more than a brisk twenty five knots on the beam, for Sunday morning, dropping to a pleasant fifteen by evening. But, the question is, can this pronouncement be relied upon?

Ad Lib 11

 

There is time for a laugh and joke, in the lock, before the (visiting) Lowestoft lifeboat puts to sea. Seemingly on lighthearted manoeuvres.

Rather than rendering assistance to rubber boat borne refugees. Who have, no doubt, been tempted out by today's still conditions in the Channel. The last for a day or two. Perhaps three. The forecast being in a state of early season flux.

Nets are carefully inspected, aboard the inshore fishing boats. Soft spring sunshine prolongs the pleasurable task.

The fleet are allocated their own enclave, replete with weatherboarded shack. In true East Coast style.

Adding some workaday grit to a waterfront otherwise dedicated to the pursuit of leisure. Be that afloat or within its purpose built eateries, stores and quayside living quarters.

Ad Lib 10

 

Summery conditions bring out the best traditions, of genteel English seaside kitsch, in Old Eastbourne town.

A Bet Lynch (Coronation Street's matriarchal landlady) lookalike strides purposefully from pub entrance to beer garden. Bearing her oversized wine glass like a Bishop's crosier. As a nervous posse, of youthful hikers, pauses at the threshold. Debating whether to attempt entry.

The golden cupola, of Eastbourne's stately pleasure-dome pier, glitters above shimmering opaline waters.

Whilst zephyrs, of pleasantly cooling sea breeze, set a Union Jack aflutter.

A long crescent of tawny sea smoothed shingle is retained by ranks of weathered wooden groynes.

It is topped by a broad bridleway. Which connects the Victorian facades, of the old town, with the newly built (1993) Sovereign Harbour. Their age gap bridged by leafy, bay-windowed, inter-war suburbia.

Ad Lib 9

Two fingers down the pontoon, lies Stargazer's sailing companion from yesterday. The Vancouver 28 Caroline. A boat whose 'that face looks familiar’ appearance (a mutual feeling) is probably explained by Lyndsey and Graham's penchant for the ports of Atlantic France. Where they spend their summers.

It is a sun dappled sit-in-the-cockpit-and-watch-the-world-go-by day, in Sovereign Harbour.

Stargazer is in her accustomed spot, behind the lifeboat. Taking her ease after the spirited passage from Dover.

Caroline intends to sail on to the West Country, before crossing to Brittany. Whereas Stargazer favours leaving the English shore more immediately. In both cases we are likely to route via Guernsey, where our wakes may cross once more. This time on a first name basis.

Ad Lib 8

Now this is more like a first sail of the season! For that is how I shall remember it.The golden light of dawn. Sixteen knots of breeze on our quarter. Stargazer cantering down Channel. Folkestone away to leeward.

A trio of boats slips out of Dover's Western Entrance at the turn of the tide. Caroline, a Vancouver 28, Dolphin, a Bavaria 38 and Stargazer a Hallberg-Rassy 310.

Stargazer steers resolutely down the rhumb line. Whilst Dolphin and Caroline 'sail the angles.' Their foresails drawing better. But sailing a longer distance.

Dungeness slips by as the morning warms. Coffee and hot crossed buns are consumed in Stargazer's cockpit, by way of celebration.

We stand close in to the steep-to shingle spit. Hoping to shave some distance from our course. But the Lydd (Ministry of Defence Gunnery Range) guard boat shepherds us back seaward. Advising that our armed forces enjoy no Easter respite and that live firing will shortly commence.

Dolphin, despite her greater length, has dropped astern. As has the sturdy Caroline. Shorter of waterline and heavier of displacement.

Stargazer runs goose winged toward Hastings. Angling inshore after our detour. The breeze steadily building. Enabling Caroline to close to within five miles. And causing Dolphin to stand out into the Channel shipping lanes on a reach.

By the time Stargazer passes the beaches, on which William the Conqueror came ashore, we have over twenty knots at our back. We hand the genoa. Lyndsey and Graham (later tell me that they) maintain full sail on Caroline. Both of us making better than six knots against the now turned tide. Dolphin falling further behind.

The Sovereign Harbour outer entrance is a welter of white water. Whipped up by a wind which is driving directly into it. No place to pause and drop sail. Stargazer sweeps around the dogleg. Finding shelter inside the breakwaters, in which to ready for the lock. 

 

Ad Lib 7

 

Stargazer's barometer rises on a balmy Bank Holiday Monday.

With barely enough breeze to balloon a freshly hoist genoa. The waters of the Wellington Dock mirror smooth.

On the shingle beach, gleeful rowers race to launch their rapier slim craft.

 Tomorrow's forecast holds fair for Beachy Head.