Most of my sailing in my Drascombe Lugger has been out of Poole and along the South Coast or across to the Channel Islands and the Central North Coast of France. This year I felt I would like a change, and decided to sail from and to different ports. My crew, initially, were to be my daughter, Ann, and my son, David, but because of a promotion Ann was unable to get the time off, and because of other commitments, David's time was somewhat limited, so a small part of the journey I did solo.

David and I launched at that well known inland port, Guildford, and in pouring rain slipped into the River Wey by Stoke Lock. The lock keeper obviously thought we were mad to be launching in such a cloudburst, and I do not think believed our ultimate destination. Just to add to the joys of life, our Evinrude outboard would not start and we had to use our small Seagull, already second-hand when I bought it over 20 years ago, but always reliable, if noisy.

It was an extremely wet morning going down the first bit of the Wey, and dealing with the locks was not really very much fun. About lunchtime, however, the weather improved and a pub lunch fortified the inner man and the afternoon was much more pleasant. We did a very small diversion up the derelict Basingstoke Canal, but apart from this, motored steadily down the Wey, which was very peaceful and very beautiful, eventually arriving on the Thames at Weybridge and going into a marina at Shepperton. There we left the boat for a few days until we could do the next part of the trip, and then proceeded down the River Thames from Shepperton to a private marina at Chiswick whose owners were kind enough to let us moor there for a few days This part of the journey was slightly less interesting, though one does get a completely different view of London from the river than from driving alongside.

After leaving the boat for a few days at Chiswick, we set off again in a complete thunderstorm and cloudburst for St Katharine's Dock, just by Tower Bridge; a rather more interesting journey seeing the different parts of London from the river. We slightly mistimed our arrival at St. Katharine's, in part undoubtedly due to the fact that we stopped at a pub on the way for a drink, and in part because they had misinformed us as to when the gates closed. The net result was that we just missed the lock gates there, and we therefore had to moor for the night off the landing stage and go into St Katharine's Dock the next morning. While in St Katharine's Dock, various bits of equipment were put on board and the masts hoisted (they were not appropriate when ducking under the Thames bridges), and all was made ready for sea. We had a problem with our VHF and had to replace the fist microphone, and I had to walk about a mile for paraffin for our oil lamps as none of the shops at St Katharine's sold it. David got very sunburnt working on the boat without his shirt.

A few days later I set off down the Thames in beautiful weather; quite an interesting trip (including passing through the Thames Barrier), and certainly a beautiful view of the Palace of Greenwich. I moored for the night off Gravesend and was made very welcome by Gravesend Sailing Club. The next day I went on to Queenborough, near Sheerness, where David re-joined me, and we went round the Swale to Harty Ferry where we moored for the night. It was rather an exposed mooring and, with wind and tide fighting for domination over the boat, it was swinging through 90º or more on its mooring which made it slightly uncomfortable. The pub just above the mooring was very nice and helpful and provided good food. The following day the wind was too strong for the next part of the journey to Ramsgate, so we just sailed along the Swale and up Conyer Creek, then back to the same mooring.

Fortunately the following day the weather was rather better and we were able to set off for Ramsgate at about 6 am with about a F3 from the South. It was a somewhat uninteresting coast to sail along, apart from the towers at Reculver, and the fact that David and I had been at school at Birchington, which gave us a direct interest in the coastline just by our school. The sea was fairly calm most of the day and while there was a little bit of tidal eddy going round North Foreland, it was not of any particular importance. Nearing Ramsgate with wind against tide there was a slight chop, but nothing excessive and we entered Ramsgate Harbour and moored at the pontoons under the west wall.

The wind got up overnight and in fact we were storm bound in Ramsgate for three days, even moving into the inner marina because of the swell in the harbour. On the fourth day however, the forecast was down to a F 3-4 and we set off for Dunkerque at 8.00 am. Because of the times of the tides and because we wanted to cross the shipping lanes in daylight, we had first to go south almost to Dover, then cross to a position off Calais before turning north for Dunkerque. Because we did not know what the French coastline looked like there, we 'buoy-hopped' all the way across, so we always knew exactly where we were. The tidal streams were certainly fairly strong and one had to alter course from time to time to avoid the shipping, whether going up and down the Channel, or the various Cross-Channel Ferries. It was, nevertheless, a fairly uneventful journey to Dunkerque, where we moored in the marina under the Yacht Club de la Mer du Nord after a 12 hour crossing. We walked that evening up to a nearby Relais du Routiers, where we had a most delicious five course meal for about £5.00 each. The next day the weather was again too strong for venturing out of port, so we had a quiet day tidying everything up and getting ready for going up the coast. The Club had a very good kitchen and we fed well.

The following day we set off for Nieuwpoort in Belgium. It was fairly rough and we had a rather wet and cold ride to Nieuwpoort with some problems seeing the buoys in the conditions (other than the light green ones, which showed up well). It was also quite difficult to find the entrance to Nieuwpoort Harbour, partly because of the high tide, which made it more difficult to distinguish the two breakwaters between which one enters; but once found, it was an easy entrance and we moored in the Nieuwpoort Yacht Club marina. Here we were 'stuck' for about 3 days because of the Belgian rules about small boats not leaving harbour in winds of more than F3 if off-shore, and F4 if on-shore. The one time we tried to go out when it was blowing about F4, we were sent back by the Harbour Master, and we did not wish to break Belgian laws. The Yacht Club at Nieuwpoort was extremely good and had all the facilities one needed. Nevertheless, it was slightly infuriating to be kept in port.

Small boat sailors going to Belgium should ascertain in advance the various shapes set up at the entrance to each harbour. One of them in particular forbids exit to small boats. The other ones, which look as though they have a terribly serious meaning, actually only give the depth over the bar, or whether the tide is ebbing or flowing. The pilot books only tell you what some of these signs mean and not all of them. Slightly to our surprise the Yacht Club at Nieuwpoort had not got among its very large collection of burgees, one of Parkstone Yacht Club, so we left them ours and they gave us one of theirs in return. We found the wind seemed to be light in the very early morning, so after 3 days we got up very early and slipped out of harbour in a fairly heavy mist before the wind got up to a strength which would prevent us leaving, and set up northwards along the coast. We called in at Ostend at lunchtime, by which time the sun had come out and the mist lifted, and had a drink in the very nice North Sea Yacht Club by the harbour entrance who sold, for about £1.50, a little metal plaque to screw on the boat showing what all the various signs at harbour entrances mean, and from there we sailed on after our drink to Blankenberge where we moored for the night. The harbour there is somewhat smelly and the Yacht Club not particularly well equipped, but one is in the centre of the town where everything is available.

The following day we set off from Blankenberge to Flushing. It was beautiful weather with only a light breeze, and we had to use our engine to help us along. Crossing the West Schelde was not very easy because of all the traffic for Antwerp and beyond, and the tide runs very fast. For safety's sake we hoisted our radar reflector; having looked at David's knots I think we would well have been safer without it! We went through the locks into Flushing and moored for a short time in the yacht harbour there while we got some information about the canals. Having done so, we then set off up the Walcheren Canal to Vere, a very nice small Dutch town on Verse Meer. It was quite interesting going through the Dutch canals, but I would not want to spend very much time on them, as they tend to get a bit monotonous. The following day we cruised around Verse Meer and then went back through the canal to the yacht harbour at Flushing, stopping at Middelburg for lunch and to try, unsuccessfully, to buy David a pair of clogs.

At Flushing we were made extremely welcome. It is only a small harbour, very informal, where the only sign of the Harbour Master's authority is his cap, his only other garment being his swimming trunks. That evening they were cooking some fish they had been given by local fishermen, for which there was no charge made at all, unless one wished to put something into the general fund which, of course, we did. At this stage David had to leave me to go back to England and he caught the ferry from Flushing with the idea that I would try and get the lugger far enough down the coast to be able to get her back to the UK. Because of the tides I had to get up at 4.30 the next morning and motored down to the lock which I had been assured worked 24 hours a day. By this time it was about 6 o' clock, but no other vessels were in sight and, somewhat hesitantly, I explained to the lock keeper that I wanted to go through. This caused absolutely no problem and the huge shipping lock was opened just for my Drascombe Lugger to go through by itself.

Crossing the Schelde by myself was even more exciting than with a crew, particularly as there was a slight mist which made it difficult to be certain what various boats were doing. However, I got through satisfactorily and carried on down the coast. It was rough off Zeebrugge, caused by the tide being forced out round the new harbour walls they are building, and a French sailing boat which tried to get close to me to take some photographs very nearly hit me. However, the general conditions were reasonable and I pressed on to make the maximum distance to the west. Although I had to fight the tide for the last hour or so of my journey, I managed to get back to Nieuwpoort.

The following day was practically flat calm so I decided that it was safe to cross the shallows on my way to Dunkerque, rather than go by the buoyed channel. I found, however, some breakers over shallow bits even in a flat calm, and some quite disturbed water, and found myself at one time about 2 miles offshore in only about 4 ft. of water. I would certainly advise anybody to stick to the buoyed channels under all conditions. Apart from this I had a fairly uneventful journey back to Dunkerque. It was very noticeable that all the French yachts were ignoring the lights at the entrance saying 'Do Not Enter', so after a while I ignored them too!

The next day the wind was again too strong for venturing offshore so I stayed in port and worked at my charts in case I had to make the crossing back to the UK solo. The harbour directions for Calais sounded difficult for solo navigation in a small open boat amid all the traffic, and the mooring facilities in the harbour not very welcoming unless I was prepared to go through a lock, which would limit my exit times, so I decided I would try to get back direct from Dunkerque. I telephoned David to tell him of my plans, only to learn that he was about to set off to re-join me. The forecast was unsuitable for going out the next day, and David was going to come out overnight with the intention of a day's rest before setting off for England, and in fact he reached me at about 4 am.

For some reason I woke up just after 6 that morning and decided to listen to the forecast to find it had changed and was not forecasting more than about F4. I woke David to give him the glad news, though I do not think he was particularly enthusiastic after only two hours' sleep. Nevertheless we hurriedly got ready to catch the tide (we were really about an hour later than the ideal time for leaving) and in fact did most of the stowing away and preparation as we motored through Dunkerque Harbour. The sea was quite rough off Dunkerque and we started taking spray almost immediately and, in spite of having full waterproofs on, plus gloves, inevitably started to get fairly damp. We were very close-hauled, just under jib and mizzen, with a bit of engine as we went down to the buoyed channel, having to dodge the ferries and other ships using it. David was feeling a little bit delicate, but no more than that, and we discussed whether, in view of the rather nasty conditions, we should turn into Calais. Certainly one much larger yacht which had accompanied us out of Dunkerque, also with the aim of reaching Dover, gave up and turned for Calais. David said afterwards that he knew he really had no hope of persuading me to do this, judging by the look on my face, and certainly once we got into deeper water and away from the buoyed channel with the tide swirling along it, the conditions became better and we decided to carry on for Dover.

While we took some spray after that, on the whole it was a reasonable journey, apart from dodging the ships. We had a little sun which warmed us up as we had got rather cold at one stage. As we approached Dover we were having to dodge the ferries (we counted eight in sight at one time) and the hovercraft ever more frequently, and in particular we found the hovercraft, which had plenty of manoeuvrability, most inconsiderate, particularly as we were entering Dover Harbour. The Harbour Patrol at Dover, however, were extremely helpful and gave us somewhere to moor while we tidied the boat up and recovered our trailer. David then drove down to the slip in the centre of Dover Harbour while I brought the boat round, and then, for once, the boat went straight onto the trailer the very first time, and we were able to pull her out; just as well as David was barely decent in the last of his dry clothes, and could not have afforded to get them wet.

All in all it was a very satisfactory trip, with plenty of variety from the River Wey to the open sea, and the inland seas of Holland. As on my previous trip to the Channel Islands and Brittany, the self-steering and the RDF both ceased to work when they got damp, but the VHF and the Echo Sounder, which were rather more important, kept going the whole time. The VHF was taken in order to keep in touch with my office, but was also useful in speaking to harbour masters, etc. Ostend Radio were particularly helpful, and with all the radio stations we used, persistence was necessary in marginal conditions so that they used the right channel and right aerial to pick us up. They in turn were very patient with us. We towed a small dinghy the whole way which was probably a mistake as it cut 2 knot off our speed, but we did use it on the odd occasion for going ashore or shopping. We saw no other Parkstone Yacht Club or Dinghy Cruising Association boats, but we were made welcome by both British and foreign boats of all nationalities and by all the yacht clubs on which we called.

The final event took place on the M25 on the way home - an axle bearing on the trailer disintegrated and we spent some hours, with the help of the AA, replacing it with a makeshift one on which we crept home.