We had intended to depart from Tollesbury on 1st June; Rex had been granted a whole month of sailing by his long suffering wife.
But even the best of plans can be thwarted. Rex had developed an abscess under a molar a week before our departure, and he would have to wait until the eve of our leaving before his dentist could see him. Then, on top of that, the section of North Sea on our route would be experiencing Force 6-7 winds on 1st June, dropping to Force 5-6 on 2nd June.
We put our plans on ice until Rex had seen his dentist. Rex always looks forward to visiting his white-coated man. Indeed, they have a unique relationship; they get on well together, with the occasional bottle of wine being presented to the dentist to smooth Rex's regular visits. Many folk in the country were experiencing extreme difficulty in getting to see a dentist, but Rex, using his typical business-like guile of using bribery, had easy access to his tooth doctor. He persuaded his teeth inquisition man to prescribe him a course of antibiotics that were to be taken in the case of an emergency. Rex was extremely grateful, but accepted that he would have to return to see him later in the summer for an expected extraction.
Thus, we decided to sail across to Zeebrugge, departing on 3rd June, firstly because we had never sailed into that port before, and secondly, we knew the border control for passport stamping was adjacent to the marina. Plans for a couple of other boats from Tollesbury joining us in Holland fell by the wayside, so we would be on our own.
At 09:50 we slipped our lines, waved farewell to Meryl and Ian (another sailor), and headed up the South Channel. Then it was a familiar haul past the Nass, Mersea Island, the Swin Spitway, and swung up behind the Gunfleet Windfarm. Once we reached the top of the treacherous Long Sands, we altered our course for the long leg that would lead us to Zeebrugge.
It was a warm, overcast day. An occasional seal popped his head above the water to inspect these interlopers of his realm, and a solitary gannet skirted the calm seas about us. It was a joy to be out on a long trip again with hidden, unplanned adventures ahead.
The wonder of it all changes up a gear for me once we are out of sight of land. To be surrounded by sea stretching to the horizon brings magic to the journey. It is as if we could be anywhere on the aquatic surface covering 70% of the planet surface. I first experienced this wonderful world of exploration when I was a teenager on my first bike. My boundaries were no longer limited to where I could walk, I could like cycle into the heart of the Lake District - marvellous.
As we headed past the Gallopher Windfarm close to the South Gallopher buoy, visibility was degrading due to a sea mist, and the boundary between sky and sea was melting into a grey void.
About a third of the way across the North Sea, we decided to do a routine check of the engine bay; there was usually a small amount of water slopping about under the engine that we liked to keep an eye on. To our horror, a lot of muddy water was sloshing around under the engine. Rex sponged it up the best he could. Naturally we proceeded to remove the floor further along the boat, and discovered more muddy water. We urgently needed to track down the source of this water.
Our first thought was the muddy water could be coming from the chain locker for the anchor. We had a new windlass installed a couple of weeks earlier, and when the anchor was pulled up, the chain would have deposited water and mud into the chain locker. We would need to be in a marina to investigate this further. Then it occurred to Rex that when Duonita is sitting in her normal berth on the saltings, at low water she is sitting in mud. The implication of this was the waterside surfaces of both the depth transducer and speed-through-water paddle sensor would be sitting in mud too. If one of those devices were to be compromised, muddy water could find its way into the bilges too. We pulled up the forecabin floor, exposing the bilge side of those sensors, and found muddy water there too. All this water was duly mopped up, and the bilge sides of the two gauges were inspected for leaks. There appeared to be none at the time.
There was nothing else we could do while afloat, so we decided to carry on our journey. As evening descended, the grey void surrounding us turned to darker shades of grey. Only distant flashing buoys or anchored ships gave the spatial clues to our place in the expanse of grey.
