Lowestoft to Grimsby: A 20-Hour Odyssey

Lowestoft to Grimsby: A 20-Hour Odyssey Through Starlight, Fog, and Triumph!

The clock struck 13:40, and with Halcyon Sea's tanks brimming with fresh diesel, we cast off from Lowestoft. The air was crisp, carrying the invigorating chill of the North Sea, but the conditions were, in a word, perfect. Not too windy, yet enough of a breeze to promise the sweet silence of sails once we cleared the shallows. The sun blazed in a brilliant blue sky, a dazzling canvas for our next grand adventure. We were ready! Every conceivable preparation for this 20-hour odyssey had been thoroughly executed; now, all that remained was to actually get on with it.

The sea stretched before us, a vast, empty expanse, save for a lone fishing vessel, its stern a flurry of activity as a flock of seagulls performed a hungry aerial ballet. The coastline, rugged and wild, was punctuated by charming bursts of colour – clusters of beach huts nestled wherever the cliffs receded to reveal a sandy stretch. In the distance, Great Yarmouth emerged, its iconic Big Wheel standing proudly against the backdrop of a sprawling industrial dock. Childhood memories of seaside fun, of sticky fingers and joyful shouts, flickered in our minds, a nostalgic counterpoint to the serious business of navigation. Pepper, our furry first mate, seemed to absorb the serene beauty, basking in the sunlight, lulled into a deep slumber by the gentle rocking motion of the boat.

And then, the moment we'd been waiting for. With a satisfying rustle and flap, the sails unfurled, catching the wind, and the engine, our faithful workhorse, fell silent. The world transformed. The only sound was the rhythmic, peaceful swoosh of the waves as Halcyon Sea's bow sliced through them. Absolute bliss!

As dusk began to paint the sky around 6 pm, we decided it was time for a pre-night-sail refuel. Our ready-made cottage pie and lasagna, culinary masterpieces of convenience, emerged from the oven just as the sun began its majestic descent. We ate, cleared away, and watched in silent awe as the fiery orange glow melted into the sea, leaving behind a crimson horizon. With no light pollution to mar the view, the stars began to pepper the inky canvas above, the familiar Plough constellation surrounded by a dazzling tapestry of thousands of tiny lights, ordinarily hidden from our urban-tinted eyes. It was truly beautiful.

But as the velvet darkness of night rolled in, a new challenge emerged. The subtle glints of distant lobster pot markers became increasingly elusive, and with each passing mile, we felt a growing sense that our journey was now truly in the lap of the gods. The clear sky, while beautiful, brought with it a dramatic drop in temperature. It was cold. Pepper, sensing the chill and perhaps our quiet tension, burrowed deeper beneath her blankets, comforted by Tracey's frequent, reassuring strokes.

We continued to make good progress, but tiredness, an insidious adversary, began to creep in. Tracey attempted a brief catnap in the saloon, but Pepper, ever the vigilant co-pilot, refused to settle, nudging Tracey back on deck where we resorted to taking turns snatching moments of rest. Tracey managed to get a couple of hours sleep and as the silence and boredom of being alone set in, Nick began to munch his way through some of the treats and snacks that had been bought for the trip. The tide, ever unforgiving, turned against us, and our speed over ground began to dwindle. With a sigh, we fired up the engine, the familiar thrum a welcome boost to our progress, and rolled away the genoa, keeping the main sail hoisted for added stability in the dark, rolling sea.

Then, around 3 am, a chilling realization: the stars had vanished. Visibility was plummeting. Once again, the insidious tendrils of fog had found us. Both of us were instantly wide awake, our senses on high alert, scanning the inky blackness for other vessels and keeping a hawk-like watch on Navionics. Wind farms loomed close by, their invisible blades slicing through the mist, and the electronic map revealed a surprising amount of traffic in our immediate vicinity. Throughout the long, dark hours, messages of support from friends and family, who knew this was our toughest leg yet, flickered onto our phones. Their virtual presence, their reassuring words, were a lifeline, reminding us we were not alone in this vast, foggy expanse.

As the first hint of pre-dawn light began to paint the eastern sky, the vast mouth of the Humber Estuary emerged ahead. Our destination, Grimsby Marina, lay approximately 11 miles into this wide, imposing river. Once again, we found ourselves surrounded by a flotilla of vessels, but the constant, reassuring crackle of Humber VTS warning them of our small position made us feel like a tiny, well-protected fish in a very big, busy pond.

The lock into Grimsby Marina operates on a free-flow system for two hours either side of high water. High water was at 11:28 am, meaning the lock gates would open at 9:28 am. We arrived a full 45 minutes too early, forcing us to hold our position outside the lock, battling the cold and the encroaching exhaustion. Normally, we'd use this time to deploy fenders and prepare our lines, but the sheer weariness of the journey meant we opted to set the boat up once safely inside the marina basin.

And then, sweet, sweet relief! We were in. Twenty hours and thirty minutes after casting off from Lowestoft, we had conquered the longest leg of our journey. Tracey, with a spring in her step, took Pepper for a much-anticipated walk while Nick systematically put Halcyon Sea to bed. After checking in with the marina staff, we succumbed to the irresistible pull of sleep, waking in the afternoon to the glorious warmth of sunshine streaming through the hatches.

A celebratory drink was poured, a well-deserved toast to our achievement. For some, it might seem a small feat, but for us, it was a mammoth undertaking, a true test of our resilience and growing confidence. This passage has fundamentally shifted something within us, proving that we are capable of far more than we ever imagined. Now, for a few days of well-earned rest before we embark on our next chapter – Scarborough awaits!Leia mais