We were finally able to leave Dunkerque on Friday, and made our way through the canals to Calais. It took all day, and unfortunately we arrived at 8pm, just as the Calais lock-keeper was leaving for his dinner! Not wanting to intrude on his evening meal, we moored up by the canal-side on the wrong side of the lock at Les Attaques, and the lock-keeper promised us faithfully that he would be back by 8am to let us through.
Saturday 22nd September 2007
He was only a bit late.
So there we were on Saturday morning, eager to take advantage of our weather window - strong winds were forecast for Sunday, but Saturday was glorious. Blue skies, no wind, calm seas - perfect for three experienced boaters, but unpracticed bargers to begin our maiden voyage across open sea. We motored on to Calais Port. David got on the VHF and spoke to the cheery French harbourmasters, who said that we were clear to exit the port, and that we should follow the two ferries ahead of us. This experience was more than a little scary as the ferries were enormous and unpredictable. This seemed like a good time to enhance the fun by dropping the mast, and then rehoisting it when we decided that mast-up would be good for stability. The learning curve was as steep as the waves coming off the stern of the P and O ferry in front.
Being out at sea was wonderful. The day was calm and gentle, and the motion of the barge was soothing - at least it was for some of us - Alex became a little peaky. The sun was beaming down, and some crew members began to shirk on their chores.
Dover was only 20 miles away, and very quickly we caught sight of the white cliffs. We crossed the shipping lines (some of the busiest in Europe) without much ado, and imagined the Dover Coastguard watching us on his radar screen, as we turned at 90 degrees to the shipping highway, and scurried across it like a hedgehog.
Our destination was so close, and yet so far. Day turned to night, and suddenly, in contrast to our lazy sunny day, we began to worry about navigation lights and lobster pots. This was particularly pertinanent as we approached Eastbourne at 1am (to fill up with fue
l, and catch a couple of hours shut-eye). The Harbourmaster told us thier facilities were 24h, and that we could moor up in the sealock for a while if we wanted, but look out for the lobster pots because there are a lot of them around the harbour approach and they're not lit. Neither, as it turned out, were some of the buoys. Motoring over a lobster pot, and hearing the propellor grind to a halt, and knowing that there was no way we'd be able to unravel the rope caught up in it, and realising that if this happened we'd be stranded floating in the blackness of the sea in the middle of the night with strong winds and high waves just around the corner - these were the unsaid worryings of the brave crew of Jacob. But despite a few close calls, and with a lot of Alex waving a torch about at the waves, we berthed safely at Royal Sovereign marina, refuelled, and went to sleep.Sunday 23rd September 2007
Three hours later, all but the laziest member of the crew were up and about, and putting Jacob to sea once again for the final hop, skip and a jump down the coast to Newhaven. Kate got up at 6am, in time to see the sun come up over Beachy Head. We passed the Seven Sisters and counted eight, and arrived two hours early at the Port of Newhaven. The wind was beginning to get up, and the sea was getting choppier. We called the Harbourmaster on the VHF, and told him that we were a flat-bottomed boat, that the waves were getting bigger and knocking us around, and could we please enter the port, tie up temporarily and wait to be let through the bridge to our new mooring? He said no. The waves got bigger. We did it anyway.
There was a seagull perched on a rather delapidated sign, reading "Welcome to Newhaven". The Port Authority told us to moor alongside the jetty by the swing bridge, but the jetty sported a sign saying "Keep Clear - minimum distance 12m". It was suitably confusing, and we were tired, and cold, but eventually the bridge opened, and we officially arrived.
And a full English breakfast does wonders for the tired and cold.
