Down Channel 1

 

Stargazer reels in the gusts. Tugging at her lines. Eager to be under way. Aware that the tides have been fair these past three days, or more. Her ensign snaps and cracks impatiently on the backstay. This north east breeze is favourable, for a passage south. But it is gusting to thirty knots. Too strong for the beat out of the Medway and on to North Foreland; before we ease sheets for a broad reach Down Channel.

Today four hundred runners stream around the dock side boulevards, in the April sunshine. They are competing in the annual Chatham Maritime 10k Marathon. Pacing themselves to make the distance, as Stargazer and I must. We have the whole summer ahead of us, the time to pick our weather windows; however keen we may be for our cruise to begin.

On Stargazer's bulkhead, the barometer is already rising. The north east wind is forecast to ease, through the coming week. Tides will be neap. Reducing their accelerative assistance; but also alleviating depth anxieties, amongst the shoals of the north Kent coast. They favour mid morning departures and evening arrivals. Once we identify our weather window.

Making Ready 12

 

The boom plug (Selden part number 319-872, I know it by heart), fits as snugly as Cinderella's slipper. Stargazer is finally fully ready for sea. The original was damaged during the winter rig overhaul. A replacement was ordered. . . . .with, what turned out to be, a perpetually 'manyana' delivery date.

Stargazer had sailed, for her Early Bird East Coast shakedown cruise, without the plug. A weather eye kept on the integrity of the 'axle' for the boom's reefing pulleys (which it secures). This week, with no sign of the plug being delivered, I began ringing round the nation's riggers. Discovering, through Deborah's good offices, that Mike, up at Fox's, on the Orwell, had two. Quite literally in his back pocket. On Thursday I collected them. All offers of payment were declined. Thank you to Deborah and Mike, at Fox’s Boatyard!

Back home, the fencers have finished their work . Replacing the flattened wooden posts and panels, felled by storms Eunice, Dudley and Franklin, with more robust affairs. Securing the house for the summer.

During the week ahead tides turn fair. Better still, north east winds are forecast, perfect for a passage south. Soon Stargazer will discover what adventures our 2022 cruise holds in store for her.

Early Bird 7

 

The night is moonless dark, studded with stars. A frost glitters scrunchy crisp on Stargazer's decks, as we hoist sail off Woolverstone. Pick our way gingerly downstream, along the pathway of green and red flashes. Past the cranes of Felixstowe. A blaze of light in the night. A hum of activity in the stillness.

A bleary sun clambers unsteadily into the sky. Wreathed in cloud. As if still clutching its duvet, against the dawn chill.

Stargazer broad reaches seaward, through the Medusa Channel. It is low water springs. We are double reefed. In part to give me reaction time, in case the depth drops unacceptably. In part whilst the breeze reveals its true colours, clear of the shore.

The Naze Tower is a mile to starboard. Stargazer is clear of the shoals, which guard the Orwell approaches. The sun beams, fully risen, duvet discarded . I brew a celebratory pot of coffee and shed one thermal layer.

The breeze settles to a steady eighteen knots on the starboard quarter. Perfect. Ten nautical miles ahead lies the Swin Spitway. It is now 07.00. We do not want to arrive before 09.00. In order to give enough rise of tide for Stargazer to slip through. 

Such is our speed (SOG), there is a danger that we may. I furl the jib, to take some way off. We arrive at 08.50. I put full faith in my "black book," of depth clearances, and commit to the gutway. Creeping through, at four knots, hugging our waypoints (not the buoyed channel) precisely. Least depth: point nine of a metre.

Now it is time to give Stargazer her head. She spreads her wings, Full main and jib unfurled before a fair wind.

A fair tide urges Stargazer south. Bearding the channel buoys with boiling white wakes. 

Stargazer stands in toward the north Kent shore. Now a hazy sliver of grey on the horizon. Revelling in this champagne conjunction of wind, weather and tide.

Big skies, filled with bubbling clouds, dwarf the merchantmen; which scurry along the shipping lanes of the London River.

Stargazer sweeps on. Slaloming through shipping. The cranes of Thamesport, and the entrance to the Medway, now in plain sight. Successfully shaken down, ready for the season. Eager to be on her way.

Early Bird 6

 

April is arrived, with its vivid caprices. Loosing shafts of sunlight, from boiling thunderous skies. Setting Blue Mermaid's freshly painted topsides aglow, as she refits on the Pin Mill hard.

Out in the river, the north east gale blows unabated. White horses set boats bucking at their moorings. Clouds scud overhead. Light chases shade across the water.

Reeds nod sagely, stood in ranks before the Butt and Oyster: "Four seasons in one day. April's here," they agree.

Green buds adorn grey branches, on the bank above. Heralds of spring.

In the shelter of Harry King's boatyard, the sun shows its warming strength. An orange jacketed figure clambers beneath beached hulls, paintbrush in hand. Antifouling is underway.

Completed boats are wheeled out to the high water mark, in cradles. Ready for their relaunch.

I walk the inland route, for my return to Stargazer. Behind a windbreak of blossoming trees. Their canopies protection from hit and run hail showers.

I ponder our options: A passage south is possible, carrying a fair tide, from tomorrow (albeit requiring an 02.00 alarm). The gale is forecast to be easing and will be blowing from astern (reducing the strength of the apparent wind).  Sunday and Monday's tides would allow a daylight departure. But Sunday's winds look fickle. And Monday's appear to be the build up to a new blow, this time a headwind.

I will set the alarm and take stock tomorrow. In hopes of fair wind and fair tide, for a passage south.

Early Bird 5

 

Stargazer lies snugly tucked beneath Woolverstone's wooded bluff.

Upriver, storm clouds are gathering over the Orwell bridge. Massing from the north. 

Soon they bring snow. The herald of a two day gale, spawned in Siberia.

Yesterday we rode the front of the low. Taking advantage of the easterly slant, which it had brought to the morning breeze. Close reaching fast, past North Foreland, in twenty knots apparent.

Forging our way across the shipping lanes of the London River. Two reefs in the main. 

Swooping through the Fisherman's Gat, across the Long Sand. The outer of the three shoals, which splay like fingers, spanning the Thames Estuary. 

Stargazer's sheets are eased. Her reefs shaken out. Making seven, tidally assisted, knots over the ground.

By midday we are emerging into the Black Deep. The channel running between the Long Sand and Sunk Sand. A heavily laden container ship steams north. Stargazer hugs the shoals, as she passes. The breeze is easing. We lay the Sunk Head in one tack. Beating in twelve knots apparent, beneath sunny skies. I sup hot soup, straight from the pan, propped in the companionway.

Stargazer skims the northern tip of the Sunk Sand, followed by that of the Gunfleet Sand (the landward two of the three shoal 'fingers'). Broad reaching shoreward on a zephyr. I moult my thermal layers, one by one. 

We gybe into the Medusa Channel. Reaching in from The Naze to the shingle of the Harwich foreshore.

The first of the flood is at the river mouth to greet us. Carrying Stargazer through the wind shadow of the Felixstowe dockside. A squall, beneath an opaque wall of rain, hastens us upstream.

Early Bird sailors must take the spring weather as it comes. We soon savour our reward. As Stargazer secures alongside, safely in ahead of the gale, a splash of late evening sunshine bathes us in golden light.

Early Bird 4

A tune floats along the street. Spreading smiles, among we onlookers, as its chords reach us. A pavement piano improvisation is underway. With both sound and camera crew to capture it. There is a Sinclair C5 prominently parked at the kerb. Its significance an engaging enigma.

Ramsgate is going about its day, in its own colourful way.

At the head of the harbour, the ship yard slipway reaches out into still waters.

On it, last winter, the Medway Queen was refurbished (story here). Today, a centenarian barge-yacht, the Marinus, is hauled up on the ways, under repair. Her lines evocative of the Medusa, the "baddies' boat" from Riddle of the Sands.

Echoing hammer blows ring out, as orange jacketed shipwrights set to work on her plates.

Pilot boats rumble to and from the harbour mouth. Shepherding cargo ships, bound for Felixstowe, Rotterdam or the open Atlantic, through the North Sea shoals. 

Helter skelter streets scramble skyward. Borne on ornate red brick arches. Home to a menagerie of restaurants, sail makers and antiques emporia. Even a garret radio station.

Beyond the sheltering harbour walls, waves make their landfall, on the beach, with a satisfied purr. Tomorrow the tides turn fair for a passage north.

Early Bird 3

 

Stargazer warms herself in the evening sun. Resting replete on her favoured berth, beneath the stonework of Ramsgate's harbour wall. 

This morning we exchanged yesterday's light airs and clear skies for a sailor's breeze. Thundering down the north Kent shore. Following the twists and turns of the 'overland passage,' tack on tack. Two reefs in her main.

Skeins of misty drizzle dull the visibility and chill the bone. The Reculver Towers, ghostly grey, mark the pinch point, of the Copperas Channel. Three tacks and we are through. Into deeper waters. Heading for North Foreland and the English Channel.

Stargazer's bow lifts, as she feels the long swell beneath her. Relieved of the need to monitor the depth gauge, I gratefully drop below, to heat a tin of rice pudding. An inner hot water bottle, my night watch staple. Gratefully woolfed down, with a large dollop of strawberry jam. It’s warmth radiating within in me.

We lay the Foreland in one last tack, lifted by the wind shear created by the cliff. And break out into a spring day. I ease Stargazer's sheets and bear off for Ramsgate harbour. Stargazer lopes along easily as I rig fenders and radio the marina and port control, ready for our arrival.

There are no other boats about (to impede), so we sail into the heart of the harbour. Slowing as its sheltering walls still the breeze. Taking in the sights. The ecclectic mix of craft: sharp nosed flybridge pleasure palaces, bluff bowed liveaboard wide beam barges and an historic tug.

Above us, the grand facades of the seaside terraces and the tall square-set church tower clamber up the hillside. A sounding board for the echoing calls of the gulls which circle above the fishing fleet.