The pilot on Guernsey told us the best time to leave, given the massive currents running around the Channel Islands. For us, this means casting off at 7 AM and setting course for the final leg of this journey.
Once we’re well offshore, we already notice the effect of the current, and it’s only going to increase. Due to the lack of wind, we motor along quietly, and a few hours later, we see on the GPS that our speed is a whopping 13.5 knots. That’s racing speed for a ship like this, which doesn’t go faster than 8 knots on its own under power.
At night, we sail through the English Channel near Dover, and it’s incredibly busy. We see ship lights all around us; it’s just like being on a highway. This is the maritime equivalent of that, one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world.
To manage all this traffic, a so-called Traffic Separation Scheme has been established. As the name suggests, this is to keep the ships neatly separated, and just like on a normal highway, there’s a lane going one way and one going the other.
The French traffic control reports, in broken English of course, that a large number of fishing vessels are currently active and that we, the rest of the shipping traffic, need to be extra careful. To make things even more interesting, they also mention that several of their buoys are no longer lit.
The fact that this creates a lot of extra work at night becomes clear when the fishermen also casually sail against the flow of traffic and are only willing to change course at the very last moment. It’s like having wrong-way drivers on the highway. Fortunately, plenty of radio traffic keeps everything on track, but there’s absolutely no question of a quiet watch.
The next day, we sail across the North Sea with a lovely, sailable, but ice-cold east wind. For the first time, we’re getting really cold, and some are suggesting we just forget about Harlingen and turn back toward the Caribbean. However, the ship needs to go to Harlingen for maintenance and the crew has had a long season, so luckily there’s no mutiny. We just put on more layers and keep going.
Our last night watch begins, and we enjoy a beautiful North Sea. When I wake up the next morning, I’m surprised to find we’re already back on the Wadden Sea. Things are moving fast now; the flood tide is pushing us from behind, ensuring we dock in Harlingen two hours earlier than expected.
Friends and family are waiting on the quay, the champagne is opened, and we celebrate a wonderful trip and a great end to the season. And of course, on to the next journey!
