We first crossed the North Sea in September 1974 , in Undine , a 90 year old racing cutter that was a bit hairy in a Solent blow , let alone out in the North Sea around the equinox. 38 years later our boat was infinitely more seaworthy but the seasonal weather was equally mercurial. In those days the only “gribs” we had were the gribble gnawing away at the garboards. For weather information we used to tune into the shipping forecast on a dilapidated transistor radio ( and inevitably fall asleep when it came to the crucial part) or cut out the synoptic charts from the local paper. At best this gave us 18 hours forecast of a rather generic nature whereas now we get fabulously accurate local predictions and a good stab at what to expect for 5 days hence . Thus it was that we knew we had 24 hours of NNW wind , perfect to take us from Amsterdam across to Harwich , as long as we could stomach ( I use the word advisedly!) 5 hours of force 7 in the middle. This prediction came from the various national met offices whereas the grib files suggested it would top out at 26 knots , so off we went , accompanied out of Ijmuiden by the magnificent Stad Amsterdam . Nice touch that!
The grib files were strictly correct , but smashing through the seas from the previous nights gale proved very wet indeed , so we reduced sail to a small jib and wallowed along through the night nice and slowly , and therefore relatively dry. Those lovely grib files showed us that we could anchor in Hamford Water for 24 hours in no wind and heavy rain, take another little NW wind to Ramsgate , sit out a nasty little low intent on making the Dover straits temporarily unpleasant , and at 0400 the wind would swing into the NNW , and then N, perfect for bringing us down Channel and home.
We were up and ready , and incredibly at precisely 0400 the front passed overhead , the wind swung round , and we were off on possibly our fastest passage down Channel ever. It was surprisingly rough off the entrance to Ramsgate , but by the time we were off Deal we had flat water. This area , known as the Downs, was a famous sailing ship anchorage protected by the white cliffs of Dover from the West , whilst the Goodwin sands shelter it from the East. In similar conditions there might have been hundreds of ships anchored here waiting for a fair wind down Channel , and I can only imagine the chaos as they all tried to get underway once the wind shift came through.
As predicted , every time we rounded a headland the wind veered obligingly to keep us racing along at 7 plus knots. These same gribs warned us of a nasty SW gale in the offing , and tended to suggest our Northerly might run out before we got home , but this time the Met Office trumped the computers and correctly predicted plenty of wind to get us home with 12 hours to spare. With all this wonderful information at our fingertips is it any wonder I’m a gribaholic?
Our first impressions of being back in the UK were unfortunate. Poor old Ramsgate seems to have fallen on hard times despite the business that the offshore wind farms have brought to the town. We were treated to a display of boorishness by a group of teenage girls , yelling and screaming obscenities at each other across the street in a way that made one wonder if there is something wrong with a society that engenders such behaviour. I think that the Scandinavian countries do not have such a disparity between the “have’s” and the” have not’s”, or perhaps they look after the less well off rather better. Looking back over our summer , we were certainly left with the impression of a pleasant egalitarian society which could teach us many lessons .
On the other hand, being back home does have its advantages. Soaking in a hot bath , stretching out in a decent sized bed ,toilets that flush on their own , a fire to light if the weather outside gets too awful and of course friends and family to catch up with . Hmm, but it is an awfully long way to walk to put the kettle on in the morning!
Perhaps we will go off again for a while ‘til Autumn really arrives!
