(16 foot gaff sloop with cabin)

Over the years my sixteen foot gaff sloop has explored most of the Thames estuary. In recent years I have ventured further out round the banks and light vessels offshore. In 1965 I rounded the Barrow Deep light vessel; by 1969 I ventured as far as the Tounge light vessel and a year later twice went out to the Kentish Knock, finishing the season with trips to the Sunk and Shipwash light vessels. A trip to the continent was the next logical step.

For family reasons it was suddenly decided that I should have a week’s holiday over the Whitsun half-term holiday and take my fifteen year old son James. High water was at 1600 hrs. on Friday at Heybridge where I moor. We left at 1830 hrs., just before she was left high and dry by the tide, and took the rest of the ebb out of the river. The wind was light westerly. With the first of the flood I worked down the Ray Sand Channel and into the outer Crouch, stemming the tide until I could get round Foulness Sands. In fact the wind was stronger than first forecast, and going S.W. I steered south with the rest of the flood.

At dawn I was rounding the Shivering Sands tower, a relic of the war years, and easing the sheets to run along the Kent shore. Quite a fleet of boats was heading out for France. I had worked it out that the tide went south round the North Foreland at 0900 hrs. In fact we were there in bright sunlight by 0800 hrs. I reefed the mainsail off Margate as the wind was rising and going more southerly. In the lee of the Goodwin sands I changed to storm jib and, steering a steady SE with the tide sweeping us SW, we reached Calais at 1430 hrs., just in time to go into the inner harbour before the lock gates were closed for twelve hours. Later arrivals had to wait in the outer harbour with its constant swell and difficulties of getting ashore. It would pay a dinghy to beach in the NW corner which dries out several (50/60) yards.

Once in the inner harbour there is room galore, but only one seat in the ‘gents’ at the yacht club. With all the English boats there for the L.S.C. rally and others, they say the seat never got cold from Friday to Monday. At 1500 hrs. Sunday when the gates opened, we left in a swarm of waterborne bees (the only craft under sail). Most headed for England, but the tide was going off NE strongly and we went with it for Dunkirk. It was hazy, but there is an eternal flame at the refinery in the new industrial area west of the town which we saw twelve miles away, before we had picked out the entrance to Gravelings. We entered at 2030 hrs. as the wind died, and poled along the eastern wall most of the way to the yacht harbour (5 francs a day) which is tidal, but one moors between buoys and the floating pontoons. Washing etc. at the club.

Next morning was warm but misty high up: the tops of the harbour cranes were often obscured by low clouds. We left at noon and headed east although the tide still ran westerly for three hours. A lazy NW wind helped us on our way. Off La Panne we were amazed to see a dinghy going like the clappers, then realised it was a sand yacht! Nieuport looked very attractive in the early evening sunshine at 1700 hrs., but we resisted the temptation to visit it and pressed on for Ostend while the tide served. The wind eased and headed us, but we worked steadily towards the harbour and entered at 2030 hrs. feeling very pleased with ourselves as we glided up between the pierheads. We moored in the yacht harbour and walked around the shops and fish harbour before turning in for the night.

Tuesday came in warm and sunny. We shopped early and left at 1030 hrs. The wind was NE force 3 and later 4. We set the big jib-come-spinnaker and rolled back to Gravelings before the tide began to go easterly at the end of the afternoon. It is an interesting place with a non-tidal basin about 1½ miles inside, but we hadn’t time to explore it. We ran back to the old fishing port of St. Phillip and enjoyed the evening sunshine as the tide ebbed. The place swarms with little boys who throw stones far and accurately, which discouraged me from beaching before dusk. (The whole harbour dries). As usual, no one took any notice of our Q flag.

Wednesday came in overcast with a forecast of NE 4/5 and 6 in the Dover Straits. We left at 0800 hrs., which was too early to work the tides to the best advantage but I suspected that it would blow harder in the day (as it usually does). Steering well to the east of the Goodwins as the tide would set SW later, we plodded on steadily, close reefed as the wind increased slowly. It was hard to judge position, but the shipping lanes helped, first eastbound, then westbound, then the Dover-bound boats. A light vessel came up due north at 1255 hrs., too soon to be the East Goodwin but the wrong bow to be the South. In fact it was the East, and in view of the long wait for the tide to go up round the Foreland and the rising wind, we eased off for Dover still invisible in the haze. The wind rose rapidly and was well over six as we tore into the harbour at 1445 hrs. Unlike most harbours it was rougher inside than it had been outside, not such big waves perhaps but much fiercer. We eased over into the lee of the car ferry terminal in the eastern corner and anchored for a meal. I rigged the storm trysail, and towards high water we ran across the harbour, round the Prince of Wales pier and into the non-tidal basin in the lee of the castle.

There we stayed until the evening tide on Saturday. It blew hard from the NE and then eased more northerly. I sent Jim home by train: he had to be at school on Monday, but I had an extra day for the bank holiday, and would certainly need it.

A tremendous sea was running off the harbour, but I set out under storm trysail, hoping to be able to beat as far as Ramsgate on the night tide and anchor over the flood, and take the morning ebb round the Foreland. Shoal Waters was magnificent in the seas. I came about off the South Goodwin and worked northwards until 0300 hrs., when I anchored off Sandwich Hotel (Conspic). The wind was easing now, and I set full sail when I got under way at 0700 hrs. The forecast kept talking about NE winds, which would have sent me speeding across the estuary to the Blackwater, but they never came. I spent a sweltering afternoon anchored off Margate, worked westward and northward on the night flood to get a couple of hours kip off the South Whitaker from 0200 hrs. to 0400 hrs., and then continued wooing the faint airs, mostly from the NW, over the morning flood on Monday.

By high water a fine breeze came in from the WNW, but the ebb made it impossible to beat over it at first, so I anchored for a couple of hours and then short tacked along the Bradwell and Stone shores to reach the Blackwater S.C. at 1900 hrs., 46 hours out from Dover, of which 36 hours had been spent under way. How slow can sailing get?