I had no undue concern about crossing the Straights of Dover, even the traffic separation zones. After all, we had made several cross-channel passages over the years. I must admit however, that I did sit on the top of the Western Heights and watch the Straights to gauge the amount of traffic that passes. Some days I saw only odd ships passing in each direction, on other days, it was distinctly busy, lines of 'juggrnauts', seemingly nose-to-tail, steaming north or south in a perpetual silent conga. I wondered if the crews ever have bank holidays!
The original aim was to cross on Neaps, heading towards the outer marker of the Calais approach fairway to arrive at the start of the slack tide. This would give an hour or so to motor up the fairway against the slowly increasing SW-going tide, and enter the avant port. Staying shore-side of the fairway, in 6m of water, would keep us away from the ferries. Outside Calais, the tide turns from running NE to SW at HW(Calais) +3.5. Catching the NW tide, we could guess at travelling at around 5 knots, making the passage to the outer marker in 4hours or so. Since HW(Calais) is +0048mins HW(Dover), a departure time of HW(Dover) -1 would be needed. This was spot on as the gates to the Wellington dock open only between HW-1.5 to +1.5. That was the plan, but of course we were now 6 weeks further on and approaching Springs. The weather forecast wasn't too good, but a few days of settled weather was on the cards for the following week. It meant travelling a few days after Springs, which, if we could cope with the 4 knot tide rushing past the entrance to Dover and the 4 knots or so that travels NE on the French side of the channel, the passage would be done.
All things considered, Friday 20th May was looking to be the day we set off. Surprisingly, Friday remained as forecast, with a nice SW f4/5 on the cards. So we said our goodbyes and when the gates opened at 1245 hours, we motored out of the marina. Brian and Geoff escorted us out in Geoff's boat Sulac. They said it was a traditional gesture, but I have the distinct impression they wanted to make sure we went! Outside the entrance it was decidedly lumpy! I'd worked the tides and found that a course to steer of 150degM would gives us the required track of 120degT from Dover Entrance to the Calais Approach buoy. I'd also worked out that about 1/4 mile out from Dover the tidal stream fell away to around 1knot, an ideal opportunity to pop the sails up. Unfortunately, the wind over the receding tide only served to keep the waves active at around 1.5m, and these, slamming on the starboard beam makes for a very uncomfortable time. Having the genoa and mizzen up would have steadied her up but I didn't fancy working the deck as she was thrown around. In any case, the SW-bound traffic zone was approaching and there was a line of tankers in front of us, trailing back as far as Ramsgate. We decided to stick it out for the time being.
(Courtesy of Geoff Dunne)
I must admit, I get satisfaction from gauging the speed of these things and picking a place to safely pass astern. Simple things please simple minds, I guess. I'd checked our speed and picked out a perfect place after some oil tanker, and had just started for the gap when I noticed the following 'big 'un' change direction. Evidently the helm had 'fell asleep' and wandered too near to the English coast, as he'd now turned from passing well behind me to a course taking him across my path. You can't really argue with these things can you. It was a case of turning towards him and, with only enough speed to maintain steerage, letting the tide carry us past him to turn under his stern. It was pleasant relief from the waves but cost us some distance as we waited for him to pass. This took us some time to get back on track, as the incessant 'pinging' of our plotter was reminding us.
Fortunately, the remaining 'down-channel' traffic were heading to pass behind us and caused no further problems. We passed through the separation zone and saw only a few 'up-channel' ships, certainly none that would cause us to alter course. It was about this time that we had realised that the strength of the wind and waves had remained unchanged. I was still harbouring a desire to get the sails up when I heard a strong wind warning broadcast over the radio from the French Coastguard. I gave the sail idea up after that, consoling myself with the fact that I would probably get pitched into the briny if I tried. Hil liked that idea too, no, not me being jettisoned overboard but keeping the sails stowed. She has an inherent dislike of sailing in anything other than calm weather. I suspect I'm the cause, as we (I) used to push Sno' Rush when we first had her, to see how she handled in different winds. I learned that she wouldn't be pushed just as quickly as Hil wouldn't stand for gunnel's in the water!
I'd been plotting our course throughout the passage and was quite pleased that we'd remained generally on track. I had been a little worried that the 3/4 knot NE tides could push us off track causing an up-tide slog to get back on course to arrive at the entrance to the approach fairway. As it so happened, the only worry I had on the approach was the ferries in and out of the fairway. On the way over, they had all passed to the north of us. As we closed towards the entrance however, a P & O had passed to our south. It was then that I saw a Seafrance ferry, perhaps a mile astern and on our course. Evidently I was taking his ground as he made no attempt to alter course, merely slowing down. I knew we were some way from the seaward side of the approach channel and presumed he was waiting for us to cross to the shore-side, but it was a bit menacing having this Goliath following 'up our chuff'. I turned away and did a long, slow 360 degrees and to my relief saw him speed up and pass to our south.
We didn't actually see the outer marker of the approach channel, but followed the line of CA buoys towards the West Jetty. Although now gusting f6, the shallower water and reduced tide eased things a little. The entrance to Calais is regulated by an International Port Traffic Signal (IPTS) system rather than a VHF call-up for permission to enter. It appears to work well and the lights are clearly visible on a tower just inside the East Jetty. We had to mark time for about 15 minutes but when a ferry came out and the lights changed to green for us, we happily trundled in. I knew the layout of the port from a previous visit, we'd popped over on the ferry on one of the P & O day-specials, so I followed the West Jetty into the arriére port, again governed by IPTS lights, and then into the outer harbour of the marina.
(taken from swing-bridge)
Here there are a number of pick-up buoys for boats to wait for the swing-bridge to open and enter the marina. The bridge opens at -3, -2, -1, HW, +1.25, +2.5 and is restricted to vessels of less than 3m draught due to a cill at the entrance. I had expected to pick up a buoy but was amazed to see the marina boat charging towards us, ushering us to enter the marina. We'd surprisingly managed to make the last entry into the marina. At 1745 hours we were tied up on the long visitors pontoon within the marina. At last we were in France!
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