Trading Rough Seas for Rest and Roast

A dawn chorus in Brighton Marina was drowned out by a different kind of sound this morning - the insistent howl of the wind. Our initial enthusiasm for an early departure to Eastbourne quickly waned as we peered out at the churning water. Neither Nick nor I relished the prospect of a long, bumpy slog, but more importantly the thought of putting our little Pepper through such a turbulent journey felt unfair.

And so, a welcome change of plan was hatched: a day of rest. It was a decision embraced with a collective sigh of relief. For the first time in what felt like an eternity (in reality, a couple of whirlwind months), we had little to do. No more endless boxes to unpack, no more bags to heave around the confines of our floating home. A genuine, guilt-free lay-in was the order of the morning.

Our quiet morning was punctuated by a message from the intrepid crew of Fuzzy Duck. They too had sought refuge in Brighton overnight, but their resolve, or perhaps their tight schedule and the pull of awaiting work, had seen them brave the blustery conditions and depart as planned. A fleeting pang of “should we have gone?”flickered through our minds, but it was quickly extinguished by the comforting reminder of our own fortunate position - time, for now, was on our side.

Having explored Brighton on previous visits, we opted for a more low-key day. A leisurely stroll around the marina beckoned, leading us up onto the sturdy Harbour wall. We walked its entire length the wind whipping at our faces, until we stood level with Halcyon Sea, bobbing gently in her berth. From our vantage point at the end of the harbour wall we were treated to an excellent view of the vibrant Brighton promenade stretching along the coastline. Further out to sea the white wind turbines of the Rampion wind farm stood like silent sentinels.

Along the back wall of the marina, a colourful array of small fishing boats were lined up, their presence announcing themselves with the distinct, pungent aroma of the sea. It was a stark reminder of the working life that coexists alongside the leisure of sailing.

The real joy of our marina wander was watching Pepper. Freed from the confines of her lead and the increasingly familiar small spaces of the boat, she bounded along the harbour wall, her little legs are blur of happy energy. It was a heartwarming sight, a reminder of the simple pleasures of open space.

Our relaxed day culminated in a hearty Sunday roast at the Brighton Marina Yacht Club. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, the staff friendly, and the food absolutely delicious, a proper Sunday indulgence. The club buzzed with the chatter of sailors, many eagerly awaiting the results of the days racing, oblivious to our own quiet day of respite.

For us, it was a day of gentle recalibration, a much needed pause in the whirlwind of preparation and early voyager. The wind howled its frustrations outside but within the cozy confines of the yacht club and the comforting embrace of rest, we recharged our batteries. The forecast for tomorrow promised, calmer seas, and with that hopeful outlook, our plan was set: a 10 am departure, onwards towards the next chapter of our adventure in Eastbourne.Leer más