An English Summer 17

 

The mouth, of the river Dart, opens before us. Pastel houses cascade down craggy green banks. Sea, of the truest blue, laps time weathered castle battlements. Beckoning us, to come within.

Stargazer slips beneath Castle Point. The breeze shifting and flukey now, blanketed by the cliffs.

She winds her way, past the bustle of the town, the criss crossing of ferries and trip boats; and on, far upriver. Tree lined banks climb skyward, to either hand. The air is still, the water a 'Limpopo' green. Oily smooth, as it runs down, the well travelled planking, of the Brixham trawler, Provident, resting on her mooring.

This morning, before dawn, Stargazer stole out of Studland bay. Leaving its starless tranquility intact. Weighing anchor, the same way as she dropped it, under sail . Anvil Point passes, to starboard, with a friendly wink from its lighthouse, but is otherwise unseen. Katabatic squalls roll off the high cliffs, of St Albans Head. A greyer silhouette, in a grey pre-dawn. Beating in twenty two knots apparent, Stargazer is romping along, the tide under her, relishing the passage ahead. Making eight knots over the ground.

It is fully daylight, as we scud past Portland Bill. Three and a half nautical miles off. Clear of the tidal maelstrom, but benefiting from its westward urge. Stargazer's speed over the ground climbs to nine knots, as she lopes comfortably along. Under double reefed main and jib. The breeze now a couple of points free, on a close reach. Sails just bellied.

Stargazer flies, across Lyme Bay, following the rhumb line. The neap tide turned against us, about half way across. But we are still making between six and seven knots, over the ground. We are so far west, further than we had hoped, that the tide's force is weak. Its main brunt is pushed, well south of us, by the jut of Start Point. 

A formless blur, on the horizon, contains Berry Head, fine off the starboard bow, twenty nautical miles, or so, out . Stargazer bears off a touch, further increasing our speed. The current has set us north, of our approach line. 

A nick on the skyline inexorably resolves itself, as the day mark. High above Froward Point. Guardian of the Dartmouth approaches.

Stargazer reaches inshore, to bring the lichen speckled, riven granite, of the Shag Stone abeam. We shake our reefs out, as the wind lightens. To maintain speed, as the wind's force, is slowly stilled, by the rock buttress to windward.

Stargazer winds her way upriver, to Dittisham. We moor before The Ferry Boat Inn.