Farewell Dolphin Pool

The pre-dawn hush hung heavy in the air, a silence thick with emotion. At 5.15 am, under the watchful gaze of a magnificent full pink moon, we slipped our lines for the very last time. A lump lodged firmly in both our throats, a physical manifestation of the decade of memories tethered to this very spot, our boat’s beloved home.

The glow of the moon illuminated our passage as we nudged the bow towards the Portsmouth Harbour entrance. Each gentle turn of the wheel was accompanied by a quiet reflection, a silent reel of moments spent within this familiar haven. We knew, with a certainty that tugged at our hearts, that this departure wasn’t just for a few days or weeks. This was a significant farewell, a chapter closing with the promise of a new adventure, but carrying the bittersweet pang of leaving a cherished past behind.

A crisp chill permeated the air, urging us to zip up our foul weather gear. Even Pepper, our trusty four legged first mate, was bundled in her blankets, her life jacket a comforting, if slightly comical, addition to her early morning attire.

Leaving Dolphin Pool felt like turning the page in a well loved book. A sense of anticipation for what lies ahead mingled with a deep-seated gratitude for the memories that had been made here.

The wind was gusting harder than anticipated and pushed us towards Selsey Bill. This stretch of water always carries a certain weight of anticipation for sailors, a place where currents and conditions demand respect. We held our breath as we passed closely by the green buoy entering the Looe channel.

As the coastline unfolded, familiar landmarks emerged. The iconic white tents of Butlins at Bognor Regis stood out on the horizon. But, it was what appeared further out that truly stole our attention. A flash of grey broke the surface - a dolphin, breaching! In all our years of sailing the Solent, such a sighting had been a rare and treasured event, only our second encounter.

Then, as if summoned by our wonder, the magic multiplied. Within moments, the solitary splash transformed into a joyous ballet. A pod of dolphins, sleek and graceful, surrounded Halcyon Sea. They danced alongside us, arcing out of the water on both port and starboard, their playful energy a vibrant spectacle against the grey expanse of sea. For a glorious eight minutes, they were our companions, their presence a pure, unadulterated joy.

For us, this encounter felt more than just a chance meeting. It was a sign, a buoyant omen sent to bless our new journey. The emotion of the moment welled up, bringing tears to Tracey’s eyes - a mix of awe and the reassurance we hadn’t realised we craved. It was a truly magical interlude, a moment etched indelibly into the tapestry of our sailing memories.

With hearts lifted, we continued our passage, the rhythmic pulse of the engine and the wind the only sounds surrounding us. The. coastline slipped by - Littlehampton, Shoreham, Hove - each town a fleeting landmark on our nautical roadmap towards Brighton.

Eight and a half hours after casting off from Portsmouth, we finally steered Halcyon Sea into Brighton Marina. A wave of tiredness washed over us, a satisfying weariness that comes after a long but safe passage. However, our arrival was met with slight disappointment. Having visited Brighton Marina numerous times in the past, the current state of the pontoons and the overall upkeep of the marina was disheartening. As part of the Premier Marina Group, our expectations were admittedly higher.

Still, Brighton was just. brief respite, a place to recharge our batteries and prepare for the next leg of our adventure to Eastbourne. The memory of the dolphins, their playful escort a vibrant contrast to the marina’s faded grandeur, served as a powerful reminder of the unpredictable beauty and magic that lies beyond the harbour walls.Les mer