 Meryl Wishing Us Bon Voyage |
We made our final preparations for the journey back, and said our farewells to Meryl. She would be taking a train to Brussels and then the Eurostar to London. Swift hugs, cast off and we were away. We glided down through the harbour, the only traffic being the small ferry we travelled on the day before.
After setting our course, we headed in brilliant sunshine out to the shipping lanes that we would need to cross. The presence of the shipping channel was clearly defined by huge vessels plying up and down the invisible "motorway". Our most direct route took us back through the West Hinder anchorage. Here eight ships swung on their anchors, patiently waiting for a berth to be freed up in one of the neighbouring ports.
Tall coastal buildings gradually tumbled off the horizon and we got the feeling of us versus the sea again. We could have been the only people left on the planet, but the armadas of big ships out here soon put paid to that notion.
In the shipping lanes heading for the Scheur Channel, a monstrous ship laden with a mountain of containers ambled along at a speed far less than ours; a turn up for the books. Perhaps it was killing time whilst its berth became free. As we crossed these lanes, Rex performed a little shimmy to avoid a tanker, and then it was a change of course for the long slog up to the West Hinder Traffic Separation Scheme. Again dextrous shimmying was required to weave a a course through that extremely busy marine thoroughfare.
 Ships Swinging on Their Anchors |
Darkness quickly set in, and fighting the tide, we slowly made headway down the Wallet, the lights of Essex seaside towns twinkling on our starboard side. Red warning lights on our port side indicated the presence of the massive Gunfleet windfarm. This final leg of our voyage seemed to take ages. By the time we reached the Blackwater Estuary, the cold grey of dawn could be detected through gaps in the clouds. High in the heavens the Plough was still clearly visible. The steely grey skies were echoed in the equally steely grey sea which was by now quite calm.
A beautiful, glowing trail followed our bow wave, as bright as a blue/green neon light. This was caused by bioluminescent dinoflagellates, or microscopic organisms that lived in the ocean. We can't see the organisms themselves, but we can see the light they give off. Though they are still there during the daytime, the surrounding air is too light for us to see them, much the same way that we cannot see the stars and sun at the same time. In this steely grey, calm dawn the effect was a delight to behold.
The tide was low and it would be hours before we had enough water to gain access to Duonita's berth. At 04:45, twenty hours after we left Ostend, we picked up a buoy in the Mersea Quarters. The sea water felt warm on my hands. Once secured, we settled down for some well earned sleep with that glowing feeling that we had successfully crossed the North Sea again.
Rex's alarm sounded loudly at 07:30. Beautiful skies greeted us together with a slight nip in the air. A nearby trawler was disgorging its contents into a skiff; they must have been fishing as we approached the Blackwater during the early hours. We had a cup of coffee to wake us up, and then made the final short passage to Duonita's resting place. She had done us proud.
Doug, the saltings manager came down the boardwalks to greet us, wearing the same smile he had worn when we departed. The kind fellow had brought a couple of wheelbarrows down with him for us to use in transporting all our kit up to the car park. Soon Rex was catching up on the gossip, even more so when Meryl arrived to help out.
The rest of the day became a blur, I was tired and just wanted to get back to Ipswich, climb into my bed and dream of the last few weeks.