Zen Again 161

 

Bowls on the village green. A fine British tradition, with a nautical twist. Which dates back to Sir Francis Drake's defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588. Here, it is played, not upon the salt stiffened sod of Plymouth Hoe, but upon the manicured turf of the Eastbourne Parade Bowls Club. 

Bowls is a serious business, for some. For others, it is a lighter, more social, occasion.

The majority, seem to simultaneously unleash their competitive streak and their verbal wit. On a day better suited to bowls than it is to seafaring. 

For, after yesterday's lull, the breeze is touching thirty knots in Pevensey Bay. More, in the funnel of the Dover Strait. Through which Stargazer's path lies. Worse yet, it is a north easterly headwind.

Stargazer, and her skipper, had thought to be skimming homeward, with a moderate northerly on the beam, and a fair tide. But the forecasts have changed and so must our battle plan. Forcing us to follow in the footsteps of Sir Francis. Lingering ashore, for a further game or two of bowls. Whilst we wait for wind and tide, to suit our purpose.

Zen Again 160

 

On a still autumn morning, a zephyr, from the north, stirs Stargazer's ensign. Without ruffling her reflection, in the mirror of Sovereign Harbour. The day warms quickly. Dissipating heavy beads of dew and tempting her skipper into the cockpit, to enjoy a leisurely breakfast.

Whilst Eastbourne may share its shingle beach, groynes and chalk cliffs with the French Cote d'Albatre (Le Havre, Fecamp and Dieppe), on the other side of the Channel, it has an ace up its sleeve.

It boasts a wrought iron pier in the grand Victorian style. Complete with golden cupola. Which, glinting in the morning sun, makes a tempting target for a leg stretching stroll. Framed, as it is, by the rearing Beachy Head beyond.

As I walk, dinghies are readied for sea. Sirens signal the start of the Sunday racing. A tactical game of cat and mouse is fought out. In a fickle breeze and strong tide. Whose influence the protagonists seek to evade, by tucking in tight behind the beach groynes, when it is against them.

I arrive at the pier in time for lunch. To find that the tall facades have escaped their, previous, air of faded grandeur. By dint of fresh coats of paint, in tasteful pastel colours. Gelato parlours and terrace cafes, have replaced kiss-me-quick purveyors of Mister Whippy cornets and fast food. Perhaps it is the benign influence, of a visitor thronged Sunday that is blessed with autumnal sunshine, but Eastbourne Old Town feels to me to be on the up.

Zen Again 159

 

Venus vies with the moon, for brightness, in a clear sky. Below, the lights of Le Havre shimmer. As Stargazer catches her tide. Fourteen knots of south easterly breeze on her quarter.

We sweep north, making seven knots over the ground. With the sun astir, behind the cliffs of Antifer. Painting the clouds in a fiery vermillion palette.

Before switching to soft honey shades, once it clears the horizon. Stargazer by now almost two hours ahead of prediction.

Which means that the turn of the tide will no longer rescue Stargazer, from the clutches of the Fecamp windfarm. Instead we are set toward it. Travelling three knots sideways to five knots forwards.

Hoisting the kite saves the day. Boosting Stargazer’s forward speed to six and a bit knots. Soon, the east going tide slackens east to two knots of side slip. We skirt the windfarm, about half a mile off, watched by a wary guardboat. Before resuming our rhumb line course.

Stargazer wafts north. The breeze begins to falter, in the heat of the day. Falling slowly, through the teens, into single digits. 

By afternoon the west going tide is working against us, further slowing mid Channel progress. Its effect visible as the 'S' bend, in Stargazer's unwavering ten degree rhumb line course. Which was revealed by our tidal triangle (Zen Again 158)

A flat calm falls, as Stargazer crosses the east-bound shipping lane. Twenty five nautical miles ahead, the chalk cliffs of Beachy Head glow golden. As elusive as Jason's fleece.

We motor toward the 'central reservation' of the TSS (Traffic Separation Scheme). Which is free from shipping. To await developments.

A hornet comes to call. Gorging on salt rime, from Stargazer's topsides. Then snoozes in the shade of the gunwhale. Vanishing with the welcome return of the wind, from the west.

Fourteen passage-making knots of it. On the beam. With the tide turned fair once more. Stargazer makes hay, whilst the sun sets. Her skipper prepares lines and fenders, on deck, for a night arrival.

Speeds build, as we cross the west-going shipping lane, and close the irridescent chalk scarp on the horizon. Six knots, seven, seven point eight, as Stargazer rides the north going tidal eddy, around the tip of the headland.

Sovereign Harbour has seen Stargazer coming. The lock has already opened, to welcome us, by the time her skipper radios in.

Picture Credits

Stargazer ground track screenshot courtesy of MarineTraffic.com

Zen Again 158

 Paper charts are a rare sight, upon Stargazer's chart table. But, in some circumstances, they possess capabilities which their digital successors do not.

One such situation is when determining the shortest course to steer, for a cross-tide passage affected by multiple tidal cycles. Drawing out a 'tidal triangle' (net tidal set along the bottom, direct line to destination one side, course to steer the other) reveals the rhumb line (shortest) course.

From that, a theoretical course over the ground may then be plotted. Which indicates where Stargazer might end up, at the end of each tidal cycle. Those three plots reveal: that we are likely to be in danger of encroaching on the Fecamp windfarm, at the end of the first east-going tide; before being set eight miles west, to the tip of the mid-Channel TSS (Traffic Seperation System), during the west-going run; and then carried back, to pass Beachy Head to port, by the end of the second east-going tide. 

All grist to the real world pilotage mill for Stargazer. Now that the, all important, PaF stamp has been secured in her skipper's passport.

Zen Again 157

 

The scene, of seafront acrobatics, has shifted from the waves to the skatepark. As storm Nemo abates. Whilst aboard Stargazer, her skipper jumps through bureaucratic hoops; and blesses his 'Brexit Freedoms.'

Today’s first priority is to secure a Schengen stamp out. The laptop succeeds in opening the Le Havre digital form, where the phone fails. A visit is paid to the Capitainerie, who must negotiate with the Police aux Frontieres on our behalf. The outcome is a probable stamp out appointment at 17.00 on Thursday. 'But come back tomorrow to confirm.'

The next priority is to book back into Britain, with Border Force. 'Our login process has been updated. Please re-register.' Thankfully Stargazer's stored details transfer, and the form self populates, as before. All goes smoothly, until we strike a new supplementary section. We must justify why Stargazer should not be charged twenty percent of her value in VAT, upon re- entry. 

Common sense says that Stargazer's VAT was paid at purchase. Since she is UK based, and was in the UK on Brexit day, no more should be owed. But a recognised government exemption code must be supplied. After much hurried research, ours turns out to be RGR: Returned Goods Relief. Relief being the operative word!

Zen Again 156

Overnight, Nemo reduces the Estacade (pier) de Sainte-Adresse to matchwood. Once rendered in oils, by Claude Monet, Raoul Dufy, Albert Marquet et al, its shattered timbers are consigned to a skip. By a bulldozer operating at low water. 

By contrast, Stargazer escapes lightly. Nemo’s toll, a mere tattering to the tails of her courtesy flags. Meanwhile, the improvised mooring arrangements, of her neighbour, have seen her through unscathed. The choice, of her sheet winches and mast as their anchor points, succeeding in its aim of adding strength whilst avoiding chafe.

Through the day, winds have dropped to thirty knots. Tomorrow and Thursday they are expected to fall to twenty five. Maybe less. Maybe sooner. Perhaps later.

The trick will be to find the sweet spot, for passage-making. Before our breeze falls away completely. A process complicated by the requirement, to give the Police aux Frontieres (PaF) forty eight hours notice, to come to the marina to stamp us out. Which is incompatible with Stargazer's standard 'dawn decision' strategy, in such changeable circumstances.

One thing is for certain, it will pay us to put in our northing at the same time as our easting. By crossing to Eastbourne rather than sailing to Dieppe. For, once Nemo's influence has passed, we seem set for a lengthy spell of northerly winds. A fair breeze, once on the English shore. But foul for a crossing from France.

Zen Again 155

 

White water rears high, in the Le Havre entrance. Swept in by a storm with no name. This steady forty five knots, of westerly wind, fifty in the squalls, is a Nemo, rather than an Alma or an Amy, so far as the UK Met Office's naming protocol is concerned. 

The port pilots batter their way out to anchored merchantmen. Dave and Nige's ferry left this morning. But no cargo ships stir. A thunderous roar of surf mingles with the shriek of the wind.

Stargazer's forward hatches are battened down. Against the spatter of spray drift, from waves scaling the harbour wall. Her lines creak, as she surges with their scend. Our neighbour (a sadly neglected First 25, brought in by the lifeboat two days ago) chafed through her stern line. Breaking loose, to her own and Stargazer's mutual peril. Until she is secured, by repurposing her furling line and mainsheet.

It seems that the jet stream has come south, to hover directly over the Baie de Seine. Sending swift moving, upper altitude, air flows spinning down to sea level. Leaving Stargazer wondering where it may next alight.

Picture Credits

Jet Stream graphic and commentary courtesy of  BBC.co.uk