Ports of call so far:18 June - Ramsgate
19-22 June - Calais
23 June - Boulogne
24 June - Dieppe
25 June - Le Havre
26 June - Honfleur
27 June - St Vaast-la-Hougue
28 June - Cherbourg
29 June - St Peter Port
Kalessin of Orwell is a 33ft Westerly Storm. In 2006-8 we sailed her down to Portugal, into the Med, and home through the French canals. In 2011 we explored Baltic Germany and Denmark. Despite Sam's stroke we haven't given up on sailing yet... watch this space.
We have free wi-fi access in Victoria Marina, so I can theoretically update the blog live. However, the speed is very hit and miss and Blogger keeps giving me strange downgraded versions of the interface, which makes it rather difficult to use.
Today Ben and I had an excellent school session, studying science, geography and PE. Among other topics, we looked at small ecosystems, the aerodynamics of a spinning disc, the geology of granite, river erosion and the formation of oxbow lakes, and had a lengthy discussion on whether a sea anemone was an animal or a plant. Oh all right, we went to the beach. But we did discuss all those topics and more, by paddling in rockpools, damming the beach streams and playing with a frisbee. Apparently marine biology is no longer a key part of the National Curriculum, which strikes me as a real shame. When I was about Ben’s age we did a field trip to Dale in West Wales and spent several days getting wet and cold on some of the most beautiful beaches in Britain. It was fascinating, though. Ben is struggling a bit with the discipline of school and sessions like this make it much more fun.
Guernsey is a strange place. It’s very self-contained and yet so extremely small. This morning Sam went to the bank and met his ex-wife, this afternoon we were all in the Guernsey Press bookshop and met Sam’s best friend on the island, Robin. I would go bonkers quite quickly here. The outer harbour is the most jam-packed I’ve ever been in (and tonight, Friday, the marina is rapidly heading the same way) – all right coming in yesterday at mid-tide with absolutely no wind, but I’d hate to have to do delicate manoeuvres with six inches to spare and 20 knots of wind behind me.
For a few days Sam has been suffering from a strange pain at the base of his big toe. We have a handy Dorling Kindersley “Diagnose your problem” book on board, which came up with the same conclusion as my half-joking suggestion, that it was gout. So today Sam went off to see a doctor who said yes, it was gout and was probably triggered by dehydration. Drink more water and if it hurts take ibuprofen, that’s £48 please. There’s no NHS here and Guernsey isn’t part of the EU, so the E111 cards don’t work either. Still, at least we have the reassurance of a view from an English-type doctor even though the diagnosis might have been much cheaper in France.
Leaving Suffolk Yacht Harbour at 6am
The view from the top of the Calais lighthouse – note strong wind blowing Guy’s hair vertically
A fine dinner at Chez Jules in Boulogne
Ben doing his schoolwork as we pass an anchored steamer in the middle of the Baie de la Seine
The trouble with moving on every day is that I spend half my spare time in each port doing the navigation for the next day, which is very wearing, especially if I’m feeling tired or delicate. Even with modern electronics you need back-up and lots of preparation, especially given that you never quite know what could go wrong.
St Vaast was lovely and absolutely full of British boats, as indeed is Cherbourg. We’re really quite close to the UK here and it’s very strange to hear Solent coastguard or Portland coastguard on the VHF from 60 or 70 miles away.
Tuesday 27 June
Baie de la Seine
I’m typing this as we start our passage across the Baie de la Seine from Honfleur to St Vaast la Hougue. Actually we set off from Honfleur at 0830 and it’s now 1200, but because we are heading into tide we’re making slow progress. I spent most of last night worrying about the tides in the Seine and whether we would just stand still for four hours, but this morning I finally found a helpful little diagram of tidal flows which showed that although the tide does push against you at up to 4 knots, it’s only at that speed for half an hour or less. Which proved to be the case. Now we are out in the Baie proper there is absolutely no wind, a slightly uncomfortable swell, and a sort of misty murk with sunshine which means you can’t see how far you can see.
It was really great to get internet access yesterday, check our emails and upload the blog. With all four of us fighting over two PCs and struggling with French keyboards I didn’t manage to respond properly to all those of you who emailed to wish us bon voyage – if you did thank you very much, and we really appreciate it. Especial thanks to our neighbour Shawn who expressed concern at our disappearance from the aether – it was just unlucky that Calais appeared to have no internet access anywhere, and we spent four days there.
The internet café in Honfleur was wonderful – a tiny little thatched building with enormous house-leeks growing in the roof! It really was a café, not a bar, very relaxed and informal and a good chance to catch up on the Switzerland-Ukraine game too (no score by the time we left I’m afraid).
I’m obviously not much of a world traveller because I had no idea how different French keyboards are. The Q is where the A should be, the W is on the bottom row and the M in the middle row, and you have to hit shift to do a full stop (why??). Even more bizarre the @ is 4+Alt Gr – not easy to do in a hurry.
Last night we had our first get-together with other Brits on a neighbouring boat – I suspect this could be the first of many. Theirs was a 47ft Janneau and they told us some entertaining horror stories both about the boat and their experiences. I think I’d rather have a Westerly.


Well, we made it into the Deben without serious mishap - and home again! The winds were light or contrary or both, and the tide against us almost all the time, so in the end we only had about half an hour's sailing and a good long test of the engine. But the weather was beautiful, except for very thick mist in the very early morning on the Deben.
A water temperature of only 17.5 degrees didn't quite put Ben off testing out his new wetsuit and flippers, and Guy even more bravely went in in just his trunks - he's pictured below making his "Mummy and Daddy please don't make me go sailing any more" face. Actually both boys were brilliant; Ben pumped up the inflatable dinghy pretty much single handed, and Guy rigged the outboard, drove the dinghy to the pub (the Ramsholt Arms) and back, pausing only so that I could take pictures, and helped extensively with sail stowing and organising us to play Cluedo.
We had an excellent meal at the Ramsholt Arms, which is one of our favourite places, and the only slight snag was that we had to be up at 4am to catch the high tide over the Deben entrance bar - it really is exceptionally shallow this year. Still, we were back at Suffolk Yacht Harbour by 7am to enjoy croissants, and then a cooked breakfast with the boys mid-morning, and back home by 1pm so Camilla could attend a rehearsal of Bacon and Bungay, in which Rough at the Edges are singing.
