Chapter 4

It was a Friday, almost two weeks after the attack, when we said goodbye to Jessica, made our way to the dock, paid the bill and prepared to move Eirene. The tide was on the ebb as we locked out. With high pressure in control, we had a gentle south-westerly breeze to take us down river, it was a little before midday. Jenni made cheese sandwiches and coffee and we took turns at the wheel while eating. The run downriver was uneventful, but as we got to Shotley we met S.B. "Thistle" on her way down the Stour to the open sea. Sailing Barges, are, alas, now just a rare "heritage" feature of the East Coast.

They once carried just about anything to just about anywhere from Plymouth to Newcastle and in between. Once, there were thousands; now just thirty or so remain. Identifiable by their big red sprit mainsails, they are flat bottomed with large leeboards. Some of them draw only about 3' of water unladen. Thistle carries people nowadays — up to fifty for a day-sail. A boat's speed is dictated by its length, primarily (except when planing, but that's another story) and sailing barges are longer than yachts, so usually they're faster. Thistle is, I think, about 90' long, so her "hull speed", her theoretical maximum is about 13knots. Eirene's is about 8.4knots. The digression is because Jenni was fascinated by Thistle, and I might have pursued her. As it was, I had to make a choice. There was no point heading for the Deben; I wasn't going to cross the bar (the shallow area at the mouth of the estuary) until the half-flood, which would be about 8pm. We could put in to the "halfpenny pier" (or, if you like, the "ha'penny pier") and spend a few hours in Harwich, or we could head for Lowestoft. I decided to go for Harwich. We could do with some fresh food, whichever destination we headed for. So we headed up the Stour, with the motor rather than fighting both current and wind, and turned into the harbour.

There's quite a nice café on the pier, so we had tea and scones while talking about plans. Jenni was happy to head for Lowestoft. In fact she seemed quite excited about it. After stocking up with perishables including crusty bread, we made use of the last of the ebb to head out about 5pm. Having contacted the coastguard ("Yacht Eirene leaving Harwich Haven for Lowestoft, eta about 10.00hrs") Thus it was 19.00hrs when we turned North-west. I showed Jenni the chart. We were crossing the shipping channel (very carefully) and passed close to the South Bawdsey Cardinal buoy. She knew about port and starboard (red and green) navigation buoys, but not the cardinal buoy system, or the light codes; certain buoys are lit and flash or occlude in a pattern that identifies that particular buoy, and the chart tells you what the buoy you're looking for is supposed to do.

By 21.00 we were clear of the shallow water, we'd passed the North Shipwash and Orford Ness was abeam, though we couldn't see much of it, and we turned North-north-east. I reefed the mainsail and mizzen and reduced the fore-sail by partly furling it. Jenni was enjoying herself much too much, and much too excited to sleep, so I lay down in the saloon for a couple of hours. When I came back to the cockpit at midnight the nuclear power station at Sizewell was almost abeam and Jenni was flagging, and glad to go below. The wind dropped to about a force 2, and I was glad as I didn't want to be hanging around outside hove to. Jenni reappeared without being called at 0400. I checked with the GPS, Southwold was somewhere to the west of us, and I went below for a couple of hours, after which it was getting light. Jenni was quite obviously very pleased with herself; she'd stood a night watch — two really — all on her own. She was entitled.