Last leg

Kingsferry Bridge open for us

The last 15 miles then, of our clockwise journey halfway round the UK from Lancs to Kent, by husband & wife co-skippers in our Nicholson 35.  Down the narrow, winding Swale, through the lifting bridge (where we had to wait 50 minutes after just missing a lift), through Queenborough and out along the Medway.  It would have been nice to sail the last stretch but, guess what: F4-5 on the nose, and we had to reach Gillingham before the tide dropped too low.

Home!

So here we are back at Gillingham Marina, where we had our Jaguar 25 in 2010 and 2011.

Some overall trip statistics:

49 days (+10 days weather bound before starting)
1,170 nautical miles
200 engine hours (more than we would have liked!)
379 litres diesel (includes much heating in first 5 wks)

Our travels are far from over - the plan for the big trip next year is going west all the way along the south coast to the Scilly Isles.

Pantheon of heroes

Tomorrow is the end of this trip, and today is sitting quietly on a buoy behind the Isle of Sheppey with 1,150 nautical miles under our belt, and taking stock a little (as well as making plans for returning to land).

There are a number of individuals who went out of their way to be helpful, and without whom we might not be here today.

Fleetwood: Bruno & Denno aka Compass Marine Ltd of Garstang, for fitting in work on our boat around their already full schedule - including evenings & weekends - and shinning up our mast to fit a new wind indicator at a moment's notice.

Fleetwood: Adam aka Silvercrest, for sourcing new batteries the same day, despite there being a severe shortage due to everyone going to their boats & caravans for the first time this year.

Glenarm: Billy the harbourmaster, for catching our lines, advice on many things including bus times to the Giant's Causeway, moving us to a less bouncy berth, and best of all finding us a company to repair our hatch before we'd even staggered back into his harbour.

Glenarm: Steven at Red Bay Boats who came to Glenarm the same day on his way home, armed with sealant, and helped us re-seal the main hatch which had been leaking badly.

Caledonian Canal: the Lock-Keepers for being constantly cheerful and helpful, despite being asked the same questions no doubt by hundreds of boats.

Eyemouth: Jim Scott of Coastal Marine Boatbuilders and his man with the oxy-acetylene torch who repaired our raw-water copper pipe within 15 minutes of us turning up at their yard with broken pipe in hand and sad faces.

North Shields to Lowestoft: Lesley's cousin David who came for sailing and especially the 24-hour cruise from Grimsby to Lowestoft, and got 95% motor-sailing plus a F7-8 approaching Lowestoft, and still was smiling all the time.

Brightlingsea: the harbourmaster & team for their cheerful assistance with berthing and water taxis.

Finally ... SIRENA IV, and we cannot put it better than the last sentence in Eric Hiscock's book about his third round-world trip "increased affection and respect for the fine little ship which had done all that we had asked of her".

Estuary tales

Crossing the Thames Estuary can be a big deal in hairy conditions- so there's always a frisson of excitement when you set off. We left Burnham-on-Crouch at 1000, coincidentally at the same time as a large police launch and his three outriders, black high-speed inflatables crewed by black-clad marine police. It looked like SIRENA IV was either being escorted like a VIP, or arrested. 

They soon roared off in a cloud of spray when we reached the main channel, heading for who-knows-what watery law enforcement. The wind was behind us so we had a lovely sail with the foresail billowing out in a warm breeze, fourteen miles out of the Crouch into the shallow waters of the Estuary. Here there are many dangerous sandbanks on which countless boats have come to grief, but thanks to large buoys which mark the safe routes, it should be straightforward (in good weather conditions and with carefully planned tides) 

Loud explosions and huge palls of smoke aren't what you expect when helming a yacht. Lesley's startle reflex being 11 on the Richter scale, she nearly jumped out of her skin. At first we thought the police had found themselves a properly big incident, but no, we'd forgotten the firing range sited in this area.

Harty Ferry

After a spell of motoring (we were directly pointing into the wind and there wasn't enough deep water to tack, and by deep I mean 4 metres) we were able to sail south on a beam reach, in a Force 4 from the west, with SIRENA stretching her legs at more than 6 knots. At one point a chunky container ship bore down on us near the eerie Red Sand fort (a strange concoction on stilts) and we had to take avoiding action, even though we were sailing. The lowest depth we saw was just five feet under our keel, and that was four miles out in the middle of that huge expanse of water. 

Other boats on the moorings in the Swale

Finally we got close to Whitstable and turned right into the Swale which runs south of the Isle of Sheppey. Soon we were dropping the sails and picking up a buoy at Harty Ferry. It had been a very smooth passage despite shallow water and unexpected explosions.