Leaving Ipswich is a real wrench. It’s become home, with real friends. It makes it harder to leave than when I set off from the Hamble. There the people were pleasant and the place was nice, but it was a soulless place. Ipswich, and Levington before it, have provided a community, a sense of belonging.
Even before I worked in the Lightship, my friends and family could sense I felt at home. The pull of returning here for a second time in 2023; the ease with which I made the decision to stay in 2024. It all pointed towards being home.
The friendliness of (most) of the people, the welcomes I have received … life in this part of the world has been most enjoyable. Yes sure, some people moan about where they live, that’s true where ever you go. But they don’t see that everywhere has those same problems. Ipswich has some extraordinarily beautiful old architecture. The town centre has more shops open than some town and city centres I’ve visited. In so many places the shoppers have been lured away to out of town shopping centres. There with free parking and everything conveniently close together. All too often this leaves behind a cluster of nail bars, phone and vape shops. Nothing much else seems to survive the modern town centre.
It has it’s quirks here too. There’s the Sailmakers Centre that doesn’t make sails, and the Buttermarket Centre that doesn’t sell butter … but most of all the people are great. I’m not saying there aren’t issues, every town and city has issues, and they are the same where ever you go. But this is not that kind of a blog.
So, to Jules, Sharon and Gemma who put up with me at the lightship; Dot, JJ and Amanda; Luke, John and all the regulars at the Lightship; Darren, Steve, Richie, Ian, Nick, Nat and all the other reprobates on the marina; and of course Ross, Luke and the staff at the Last Anchor who put up with us all; and all the others I’ve forgotten to mention … Thank you. Suffolk, and Ipswich, is going to be a hard act to follow.
Heading out
After a weekend of leaving drinks (or should that be celebrations that I was actually leaving!) I headed down the river to Harwich on Tuesday. It was just a couple of hours down the river and I was tied up on Ha’penny pier in Harwich ready for an early start the following morning.
The plan was great, up early and catch the tide to get me all the way to Dover. At 5 O’clock the following morning the realities of a colder than average March with a biting north wind told me I should re-think my plans. When a woke again at 7am it was still cold, but I felt a little more prepared to deal with it.
Last minute checks and coffee infusion done, I cast off the lines and headed out of the river entrance at around 8am, passing the mammoth cranes of Felixstowe docks for a final time … I know, I’ve told myself that before!
I motored, eventually summoning the energy to pull the roller furling foresail out. The mainsail could have gone up, but despite multiple layers and full foul weather gear the cold was still affecting me. I decided discretion was the better option and motor sailed across the Thames estuary.
Back out at sea
Despite obvious and ominous dark clouds and rain squalls behind and in front of me at various times, the day remained remarkably clear. In fact, by the end of the day I was beginning to wish I had put sun screen on. The changing colours of the North Sea always fascinate me. From the muddy brown of the water as you pass the river entrances it becomes a much lighter greeny brown as you pass over the sandbanks that scatter the estuary. There was even a tinge of blue to the greyness of the water as I went across the deeper channels.
My confidence in the area has increased over the past few years. However it is still a little unnerving when you are almost out of sight of land, so a good ten miles or so out, and you pass over an area of sea that is little more than 5 meters deep. It’s good to know that if something were to go wrong I could just anchor. With these depths the waves can pick up more, with shorter, steeper seas to contend with than many would expect. But that wasn’t the case today.
Really, the passage through the myriad of sand banks, shipping channels to the London and Thames estuary ports, and through the middle of Knock Deep wind farm was pretty uneventful.
The worst of the trip was towards the south side of the estuary, where the waves and the sea couldn’t seem to make up their mind. There were rolling waves that appeared to be coming all the way over from Denmark or Norway, but these were competing with waves blown up by the north westerly wind blowing over the Essex coast. It wasn’t rough, just confused seas coming from two different directions rocking and rolling the boat in a crazy dance to the sound of the wind and the steady beat of the engine.
5pm on Wednesday I arrived in Ramsgate Royal Harbour. The passage had been okay, but oh so cold. I decided to take a day off on Thursday, warm up, rest and be ready to move on.
May you sail calm seas
