Farewell Dover, Hello Ramsgate

Farewell Dover (and Our Nerves!), Hello Ramsgate (and a Gentle Kiss with a Pontoon!)

The moment had arrived. Time to bid adieu to Dover, a port that, despite its friendly inhabitants, had instilled a healthy dose of "leaving a busy shipping lane" anxiety within our nautical souls. The air aboard Halcyon Sea was thick with a quiet focus as we prepared for departure, each lost in our own pre-sail rituals. Nick, ever the diligent captain, busied himself on deck, penning the day's log, while Tracey, still vividly recalling the saloon's airborne antics of our last passage, meticulously stowed every conceivable item below – determined to avoid a repeat performance of the "flying chopping board of doom."

We mentally ran through our exit strategy: the precise moment to call Dover VTS, the designated route out of the Eastern entrance. Adding to the slightly comedic tension, a fellow sailor berthed astern, also making his escape, ended up tailing us out. While his prior experience in these waters might have been reassuring in reverse, we hoped our carefully laid plans would suffice.

Radio chatter commenced. Permission to slip our lines was granted, followed by the instruction to call again at the end pontoon. Check. Permission to leave the outer marina entrance followed swiftly. Hallelujah! The ferries that had seemed to barricade our exit miraculously parted like the Red Sea (albeit at a slightly faster pace), and as we reached the southerly cardinal buoy, we made our final call to Dover VTS. A brief hold inside the breakwater by the Knuckle lighthouse was requested, to allow an incoming ferry to pass. The ferry whooshed by, and then came the magic words: "Leave at your best speed." You didn't need to tell us twice!

The exit, surprisingly, proved far less daunting than our nerve-wracking entrance. A collective sigh of relief swept through Halcyon Sea as we finally pointed our bow eastwards, the iconic White Cliffs of Dover standing proud to our starboard. We queried the name White Cliffs, as they were decidedly dirty and scattered with green mosses and grass, coming to the conclusion that they must be photoshopped for films. Evidence of the cliffs' slow but steady crumble was everywhere – piles of chalk rubble at their base contrasting with the brilliant white of newly exposed rock.

Today's journey was a mere hop, skip, and a jump in nautical terms – a breezy 2.5 hours. Alas, the wind remained stubbornly on our nose, relegating us to a motor-powered cruise along the Kent coastline. We opted for the inner passage of the Goodwin Sands, those infamous sandbanks lying just four miles offshore, stretching ten miles between Ramsgate and St Margaret's Bay. Varying in width and reaching depths of around 80 feet, these underwater behemoths reveal their sandy tops twice daily at low tide, with vast expanses of the upper ten feet becoming exposed. Today, however, with the tide high, the Goodwin Sands remained a hidden, watery realm. Their history is a sobering one, with the first recorded shipwreck dating back to 1298 and a staggering 2,000 more reported since – though the actual figure is estimated to be double that! The area is a watery graveyard of protected wrecks, including the Admiral Gardner and the Rooswijk, as well as four Royal Navy warships lost in the Great Storm of 1703, claiming 1,200 lives. Strong tidal currents constantly shift the sands, both tantalizing and frustrating archaeologists and divers, covering and uncovering historical sites. These ghostly remains are carefully monitored by Historic England, their preservation a delicate dance with the ever-moving seabed. Adding to the maritime drama, over 80 vessels, including steamships and even German U-boats, were sunk here during the two World Wars. Thankfully, Tracey remained blissfully ignorant of this rather dramatic history lesson until we reached the relative safety of Ramsgate!

Soon enough, the time came to veer from our easterly course and point Halcyon Sea towards Ramsgate. Following our carefully studied plan, we spotted the buoys guiding us towards the harbour entrance. A quick call to Ramsgate Port Control on channel 14 for permission to enter, followed by a chat on channel 80 with the marina for berthing instructions. Their succinct guidance: "Anywhere you like on pontoons E or F, the longer pontoons have cleats in the middle." This implied that the pontoons were not that long and we opted for a central pontoon with a middle cleat. Clearly their definition of long and ours differed considerably!

With the tide and wind seemingly engaged in a vigorous wrestling match within the marina, we picked our spot and cautiously approached. A little nudge of power was needed to swing the bow around, but perhaps we were a tad overenthusiastic with the throttle. Bang! A rather undignified kiss with the pontoon ensued, resulting in a small but noticeable chunk of gel coat departing the bow of Halcyon Sea. Ah, the glamour of sailing! It's not always sunsets and smooth waters, is it?

Tied up and with Pepper happily scampering ashore for a much-needed leg stretch, we surveyed the damage. Nick, ever the optimist, is confident he can perform a temporary repair that will suffice until we can get it properly looked at. The marina itself appeared to be in need of some TLC, with broken pontoons scattered around (perhaps unsurprisingly given the boisterous conditions). It seemed particularly geared towards the fishing fleet. However, the people we've encountered so far have been genuinely friendly, a definite plus!

We ventured to the Royal Temple Yacht Club, where a lively quiz night, presided over by the Commodore, was in full swing. A pleasant surprise awaited us – we bumped into Tony and Sue, the couple we'd met back in the Royal Cinque Ports Yacht Club in Dover! We joined their table, put our general knowledge to the test (with varying degrees of success!), and shared a good laugh, even jokingly discussing a potential reunion in Chatham, our next stop before the bright lights of London. A well-deserved pizza fueled our return to Halcyon Sea, where we spent the evening plotting and planning for the days ahead. Tomorrow is earmarked for more boat maintenance (that gel coat isn't going to magically repair itself!) and hopefully a little Ramsgate sightseeing, provided the boat jobs don't consume the entire day. This sailing lark, we're learning, is a constant balancing act between adventure and the less glamorous, but essential, realities of boat ownership!Baca selengkapnya