Spring Chicken 10

 

"Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh." A clinker built pot boat genially circulates the harbour. Fresh caught shellfish on offer to visiting sailors. 

Stargazer slipped out of Dover before the dawn. Riding west on the new turned tide and fourteen knots of north east breeze. The residual swell, from the three day blow, gently rolling through beneath her. Dawn breaks hesitantly. Lowering black skies to landward. Brighter to seaward.

Dark wins over light. The wind swings easterly (still fair). Rain falls, hard and determinedly. The spring tide reaches peak flow. Sluicing Stargazer westward, ever quicker.

Past the desolate shingle spit, of Dungeness. With its blocky power stations, tended by handmaiden pylons.

Then, Stargazer hangs stationary. Rising and falling on the swell. Deserted by the wind, the tide an hour from changing, contemplating the light tower. Which blinks determinedly, in an effort return our gaze, through the murk.

Abruptly, the wind swings north. Stargazer heels then accelerates. Romping westward once more.

Autopilot, braving the rain, at the helm.

Whilst I stand watch, from the shelter of the companionway. A perpetual pot of coffee propped upright in the sink ; and a simmering pan of hot sweet rice pudding on the stove. To provide inner warmth and cheer.

Stargazer hugs the shore, of Hastings Bay. Seeking the shallows. The better to cheat the adverse tide. Still making between four and five knots over the ground. The skies clearing as we pass the town.

Beachy Head now visible on the horizon (to the left of the jib). The sun breaks through, whilst I rig fenders for the lock. 

Stargazer has arrived in Sovereign Harbour, Eastbourne. Beneath blue skies.