– Across the Channel – 25th June 2015 –
We were all up and dressed by 6.30 a.m. and leaving our mooring by 6.45 with a view to breakfasting on the way. Once again the first job on deck was to remove fenders and stow ropes whilst Helen prepared the grab bag, stuffed cardboard into drawers to prevent them from being thrown open, and secured any remaining loose items.
The weather was superb. The lightest breeze, sun, blue sky, and for that hour a pleasant temperature. As we left the Swale and entered the Medway it was saddening to see the acres of port handling space and equipment apparently almost entirely unused.
We passed back into the Thames Estuary and quite soon left the main shipping channels, turning south east to ‘cut the corners’ towards Margate. For some time we followed a yacht, eventually exchanging places, as we navigated by Havelok’s basic chartplotter, and David’s 2 electronic charts. Mostly we steered a pre-planned course between shallow waters maintaining a minimum depth of 20 feet beneath our hull, sighting various markers and buoys, and avoiding lobster pots. For this part of our journey the larger ships were fairly distant, as were the spectacular offshore windfarms, and the large ship anchorage which I thought I was going to have to steer a course through. Eventually David questioned my direction and I explained I was following the dotted line course which he had put on the electronic chart. Calmly and politely he explained I needed to follow the solid line, and that the dotted one was my predicted course based on where I was steering. I had been following my nose!
The VHF radio gave various announcements suggesting that conditions weren’t quite so good elsewhere around the British coast and then came the local shipping forecast for Thames and Dover. Thursday 06.00 to Friday 06.00, 4 variable, smooth or slight, fair, good. That is the first, and probably the last time I have ever been stirred by a shipping forecast. It confirmed what I already knew. The winds are OK, the sea is calm, weather and visibility are OK. WE ARE GOING!
Passing Margate we soon came to North Foreland at around 11.00 a.m. Our pilot explained in a considered way that this was the point where you decided whether to start the crossing or retreat into Ramsgate. Despite my inexperience and junior position, I felt the need to state the obvious. ‘The weather and conditions are perfect.’ He continued to think out loud about the ideal angle you should cross the shipping lanes, which is apparently perpendicular. Something inside me was screaming ‘let’s go’ but it wasn’t until after a few minutes following a newly plotted course that I realised – we had started to cross the English Channel.
David pointed out that the English Channel has 2 main shipping lanes and initially ships would come from our port side as we began to cross the first lane, but that thankfully, there appeared to be little traffic. When I did eventually spot a ship heading across our bows it seemed to me that although we were several minutes apart, we were clearly on a collision course. David insisted that the ship would pass us before we reached it and thankfully my faith in him was rewarded.
As we approached the second lane a light mist had descended and I could see several fuzzy grey shapes in the distance. They looked a bit like groups of trees but a quick glance at the expanse of sea before us on the chart suggested that that was pretty unlikely.
Another ship appeared on our starboard side. Initially neither of us could make out the shape or direction of travel but as we came closer the binoculars revealed that it was a heavily loaded container ship, with its pointy end pointing at us. Once again its speed carried it comfortably past our bow.
The next guessing game was with an even larger vessel which was still, with no bow wave or wash. As we came closer David pondered the likely possibilities and considered that it may have been waiting for us to pass safely. Given that that was about as reasonable as an elephant in a hurry waiting for a stray ant to cross its path we turned emphatically towards the ship’s stern as a clear signal, and sure enough a thick plume of black smoke erupted from its stack and a huge froth of white wash boiled around its stern.
The crossing up to this point had been relatively gentle but, whether stirred by the increasing wind, or the wash of the larger ships, the sea began to swell a little more and Havelok began to lurch and roll more heavily, with occasional larger waves sending spray across the starboard side. Looking out of the half open stable door in the wheelhouse I realised the only thing between me and the sea was a door latch. A sentence from a memory test story I used many years before kept coming back to me: ‘…and the boats were tossed about like corks in the heavy sea…’ Helen had coped with being tossed around with the help of medication and 2 acupuncture wrist bands, but descending into the saloon to make lunch combined with this more vigorous movement was too much and she acknowledged feeling ill. Keeping still and fixing her gaze on the retreating English coastline at least helped mitigate the worst symptoms.
Having traversed the second shipping lane, the slight mist cleared and the familiar landmarks of Calais began to appear.
The next concern was negotiating the ferries. It would be an exaggeration to say they were like bees around a honeypot, but there were a lot: My Ferry, P&O, DFDS; mostly in a line leading from Dover, with the occasional one emerging from Calais.
At this point we also noticed Manuka, who had crossed overnight, to the west looking like a very tiny David about to do battle with several Goliaths. As we came closer to the port our David, our pilot, was clearly making mental calculations as to when would be the best time to nip in between a couple of the ‘floating block of flats’, without incurring the wrath of an emerging one.
Manuka in the meantime had decided the best way to approach a goliath was from behind, had turned to starboard, and was disappearing further to the west.
As we approached the main port channel, ‘Calais Port’ addressed ‘Havelok’ on the VHF. I’m not quite sure what they said but our pilot decided to take evasive action and crossed the channel to come to an almost standstill alongside the beach, behind the harbour wall.
We must have been quite a sight for the sunbathers lying on the sand.
We watched as the next ferry emerged, towering above us, and at least several feet away.
We scampered in behind it and entered the harbour at 16.35 local time. ‘Calais Port’ made further contact advising us that we could lock through into the canal basin at 18.30 and we were welcome to take a buoy in the meantime. Shortly after, Manuka followed us into the harbour, apparently tousled with a few fishing lines, shared some excited ship to ship communication, and then headed off into the marina.
We moored in the Bassin de La Batellerie for the night and headed off into Calais for a meal: excited, relieved, and highly satisfied.
Mathew & Helen
DB Havelok
