The Curse of Eastbourne - Part 3

An unfair title, but we're now in Eastbourne for the third time in three years and, once again, we'll be staying here longer than anticipated.

It's not Eastbourne's fault of course. Regular readers (are there any?) will recall that in both 2015 and 2016 we were stormbound here. This year we happen to be awaiting delivery of our new sail.

But why is it always Eastbourne? Is it just us, or is there some fluence that causes all mariners to be delayed here? Have Premier marina's done a deal with some higher, or lower, being?!

Anyway, the story so far.

If you've read my previous post you'll be aware that a certain amount of stress accompanied our departure from Thornham marina. Enough said on that matter methinks, except to say a very sincere thank you to Janet and Geoff. Not only are they looking after our house, garden, post and car in our absence, but they also provided a personal limousine service to our departure point!  Oh and they bought us a gift before we left!

You couldn't wish for better friends and neighbours. Thanks guys.

Leaving Thornham Marina

Having motored away from Thornham we borrowed a mooring near the entrance of Chichester harbour for the night. It was a bit rolly when we arrived but it soon settled down and, after a bite to eat, we turned in for the night.

Soon after midnight I was woken by the wind (ambient, not personal) and the pitching motion of the boat. Clearly the settling down referred to above was merely a lull whilst the wind took a breath.

During the remainder of the night, I got dressed to go up on deck no less than 4 times to:

• relocate the mooring chain
• check the mooring chain hadn't jumped off the bow roller (it hadn't)
• check the anchor was properly secured on deck (it was)
• check the anchor once more because I was sure I could here it rolling as the boat pitched (it turned out to be the mooring's pick-up buoy rolling on the foredeck and bouncing off the pulpit. Strange how noises are magnified when you're trying to sleep underneath them).

In between times, I listened to the wind, pictured the inevitable waves at the exit from Chichester harbour (a fresh southerly breeze against a strong spring ebb will always create steep seas there) and wondered whether my planned departure time would give us enough clearance under the keel to cater for the rise and fall of the boat.

By 0500 I'd decided that, as sleep clearly wasn't an option, we may as well leave before the water level dropped any further.

Motoring out of the harbour entrance with no less than 5 knots of tide under us, we crashed over and through the steep waves. We were making less than 2 knots through the water under engine into wind approaching 30 knots as our navigation lights (mounted 3 feet above the deck on the pulpit) alternated between stargazing and underwater exploration!

Fortunately we were soon through that lot and able to turn to the east, roll out the genoa, turn off the engine and relax. A good force 5 on the beam gave us 6 knots under no.3 genoa alone for much of the journey. Ironically our speed increased further as the wind dropped and the mainsail was brought into play.

Our arrival alongside the visitors' pontoon at Brighton was expedited a little more briskly than anticipated as we were swept sideways onto it by the fast flooding tide and wind. In my defence, it was mid flood (the fastest point of the tide) and the pontoon is positioned across the tide.

To give an idea of the strength of that tide it was impossible, once alongside, for one person to push the boat away from the pontoon far enough to insert an additional fender.

That rests the case for the defence. I'll get the hang of this boating lark eventually. In the meantime, thank goodness for fenders!

Cyclone on her Brighton berth, sporting cleaned and re-stiched sprayhood and sail cover

The new development at Brighton Marina. Pretty it ain't!

A stroll around Brighton on Sunday clocked up over 16,000 steps on the pedometer as we took in the sights - beach, piers, donut on a stick, the Lanes and Pavilion. Brighton always seems run down and sleazy to me, but Jo assures me that it's vibrant with character. Each to their own...

Brighton beach and pier

Donut on stick in distance...

...closer to...

... and from underneath

Brighton Pavilion

1200 on Monday saw us head off into the mist and murk for Eastbourne. The wind, such that it was, pretty much deserted us by the time we reached the Seven Sisters and disappeared altogether as we rounded Beachy Head.

I like to sail and tried very hard to manage without the engine but, hearing Jo remark (with a tinge of sarcasm I suspect) that she was struggling to count the Seven Sisters as they passed in a blur (we were making 2 knots through the water at the time) I admitted defeat and on it went.

Obligatory picture of Beachy Head lighthouse

... and another!

So as stated above, we're now in Eastbourne awaiting delivery of our new sail.

Next stop Dover.