It was with some sadness that we eventually escaped
Brighton, with its friendly and efficient marina, liberal and bohemian society,
and eclectic range of shops and eateries. I even found myself at the funfair at
the end of the pier!
But escape we did, and had a cracking downwind
passage to Ramsgate, which got us there early, at dead low water. This meant
that, along with many others, we slithered to a halt in soft mud in the middle
of the harbour, and had to await the rising tide before we could complete
berthing. But the harbour is bursting at the seams, such that many of us are
berthed several deep on the outside of the marina wavebreaks. Now that the tide
is up, the boats are rolling and surging terribly, and I am typing this whilst
sitting up watchkeeping on the lines to avoid a clash of masts with our
neighbours. I really long for low water again, and some nice soft mud to sink
the keels into to stop the gyrations so that I can get some sleep before we
hi-tail it out of here.
And tomorrow we head for the land of my