We were waiting for the weather without a care in the world, and the weather came - one that delivered a lot to care and worry about. The forecast was showing gale warnings so we had to pick a spot that would ensure we were still afloat and in a ready to adventure state when the wild weather was over. The mooring buoy outside Ramsholt, with all the brown sea weed growing on its rope, look sturdy and resilient, but the muddy banks in the vicinity combined with the oncoming storm force 10 had the capability of causing irreversible damage. Going up the river to the tide mill would have been an option but not one we could reverse on a nip tide.
With that in mind we came to a delightful solution of returning south to the favourite River Orwell. Seriously, it cheered me up no end! Inside I was doing summersaults at this idea. Not sure if that takes away from being an adventure sailor but that was the case. We left on Saturday afternoon, on an incoming tide and made a pretty smooth exit out of the River Deben. Once out of the river we unfurled the jib and turned off the motor. Silence. I love sailing, actual sailing. Ghosting silently on the surface of the water, all be it for a short time.
Once we crossed the shipping channel on approach to Harwich Harbour, I had to shake from my dreamy mode as Mark handed over the command of the ship to me so I can work on the improvement of my sailing and navigational skills. I can’t say I made myself proud. I could say I was caught with my pants down, but in reality I was caught with my jib up, hailstones painfully hitting my face as I was trying to steer in an increasing wind. Bollox. With Mark’s help I survived this tough lesson, or rather the first part. When we entered the favourite river, the visibility decreased considerably with the rain and I was snaking among boats, some moving, some moored, buoys and, if the rest wasn’t enough for my nerves, avoiding a ship. Luckily, the mooring went much more smoothly than the rest and Mark was able to pick up our favourite wrinkled buoy at the first attempt. Phew!
The following day we moved to Wolverstone Marina located up the river, just past Pin Mill. The weather was sunny, calm and positively glorious, as if nothing could spoil it. Mark’s mum came to visit us and brought post which arrived from Poland and contained a few copies of Polish yachting magazine, which published our article! I knew it was on the way and I have already seen the online version, but seeing the actual text and photos printed on paper pages of a glossy cover magazine made me so joyful. My first publication, what a proud moment!
As forecasted, the storm force 10 arrived the following night, but the location of the marina provided a perfect shelter and we slept soundly. The following day the wind shifted direction and rocked our little world with up to 43.4 knots of wind! Still, it was safe for Altor to stay on the hammerhead of the pontoon in anticipation of calmer weather. In the meantime we enjoyed the luxuries of being in a marina - until today, as we are now back on our favourite wrinkled buoy, awaiting fair winds to fill our sails and carry us in the desired direction. The forecast looks promising, and we hope it will deliver enough to satisfy our itchy feet, which can only be scratched by sailing north.
Wolverstone Marina
Beautiful local church near Wolverstone Marina
Wolverstone Marina
Altor moored safely in Wolverstone Marina
Ipswich in the distance
In Wolverstone Marina
Calm before the storm
Dusk in Wolverstone Marina
In Wolverstone Marina
Ipswich in the distance
Racing on the River Orwell
The storm is coming!
Here it is - printed!
Polish yachting magazine which published our article :)
Back on the wrinkled mooring buoy
Gale force 9 - breeze on!
“I could say I was caught with my pants down, but in reality I was caught with my jib up” - made me smile....nice blog and congratulations on the article, not that I could read it.