Down Channel 12

 

Our north easterly passage making breeze is back . Says the morning forecast. For one day only: tomorrow. Before falling light once more and then rising from the south west, later next week. A head wind

We sail for Cherbourg, on the zero five hundred Sunday tide. It promises to be a broad reach in a building breeze, as we clear the lee of the British  mainland.

 Cherbourg offers the benefit of an all tide, well lit, approach with which I am familiar. Cherbourg has also been the most helpful port, in response to my enquiries, over the winter, regarding entry formalities. Boulogne referred me to Calais,  Dieppe sent me around their various departments,  Fecamp referred me to Le Havre.

Cherbourg e mailed me a 'formulaire pre avis' by return. Giving me the address and phone number of the Police Aux Frontieres (PAF), to contact on arrival.

 According to 2021 Fastnet Race crews, with whom I spoke last season, the PAF came to their boat, to stamp their passports. (The 2021 Fastnet Race finished in Cherbourg).  Either way, the PAF are based right on the Cherbourg waterfront, so whoever makes the walk, it will be a short one.

I spent the morning on-line, registering our intention to cross, what has become, an international border. French formalities were the work of ten minutes to complete. A simple pdf requiring key information about myself and Stargazer. By contrast, the Byzantine British bureaucracy, now required to leave the land of my birth, was the work of an Excel obsessed devil. A two tab spreadsheet requires cross referencing with two more tabs of arcane abbreviations. Every conceivable detail is required - almost down to shoe size. The UK Border Force are reading them though. My first attempt was e mailed back within three minutes, demanding more detail.

A lunchtime stroll, to Langstone Quay, restores my equanimity.

The afternoon passes languorously. Excited anticipation, at the prospect of a broad reach to France, grows. Perhaps we will be able to carry the kite. I do hope so.