We left Grimsby on Thursday almost as soon as the lock was open from the fishdock to the river. It was a bright, still morning, and the tide was still flooding * so Freddie pushed us to seawards. Windfarm support craft shot past with the maintenance workers going out to work. The sun picked out the industry up river and the imposing hydraulic tower at the entrance to Grimsby.
Apart from that excitement and a survey ship fussing off to survey, there was little traffic. The pilot books talk of taking extra care because of the large amout of large commercial ships on this busy water way. I suppose it's symptomatic of the economy - there vary little traffic and I cheekily crossed the shipping lanes diagnonally, rather than at right angles as the rules advise (or is it stipulate? - anyway no - one chased me down with blue llights flashing).
Freddie pushed us out into the sea. Once we had crossed the shipping lanes and had passed Spurn Head we turned northward. The wind picked up from the Nalmost NE (you guessed it – on the nose), Freddie was silenced as we tacked our way northward. A couple of seals came to have a look and played with us, as dolphins do. They soon became interested in something else and left.
Not much happened for the next three hours. We tacked.
Allegedly a gift by a Frenchman, I assume it supplied the hydraulic head to power the cranes in the dock. I crossed astern of an idling tug.
Then we crossed in front of a large freighter which I thought was not under way** as she showed no discernible bow wave. To my horror, as I passed a couple of cables*** from her bow, I realised that the tug was waiting for her to go past so the tug could pick up a tow wire from the boat. We didn’t collide.
Apart from that excitement and a survey ship fussing off to survey, there was little traffic. The pilot books talk of taking extra care because of the large amout of large commercial ships on this busy water way. I suppose it's symptomatic of the economy - there vary little traffic and I cheekily crossed the shipping lanes diagnonally, rather than at right angles as the rules advise (or is it stipulate? - anyway no - one chased me down with blue llights flashing).
Freddie pushed us out into the sea. Once we had crossed the shipping lanes and had passed Spurn Head we turned northward. The wind picked up from the Nalmost NE (you guessed it – on the nose), Freddie was silenced as we tacked our way northward. A couple of seals came to have a look and played with us, as dolphins do. They soon became interested in something else and left.
Not much happened for the next three hours. We tacked.
A seal swam behind us for a few minutes and the rather featureless coast of South Yorkshire drifted past.
There was time for a "selfy".
At last a lumpy bit was seen to the north west and eventually Flamborough Head could be seen, with Bridlington a glimmer of buildings some six miles in from the headland. A large swell began rolling in from the NE, almost at 45 degrees to our course. Waves 6 – 8 feet high, about two lengths of Vagabond apart, lazily lifting her and swinging her this way and that. As we neared Bridlington, the headland provided some shelter and we entered the harbour, following in the wake of a number of fishing vessels that showed us the way in as the usual gloom gathered along the coastline. 12 hours to do about 45 miles. The harbour was surprisingly busy and we were shepherded to a rather exposed pontoon near the top of the harbour.
‘You can dry out, can’t you?’ asked the harbour master. ‘Good’, he said, ‘that pontoon and you will be on the bottom before full low tide. Be careful, the harbour is busy’. He was right on both.
There was time for a "selfy".
At last a lumpy bit was seen to the north west and eventually Flamborough Head could be seen, with Bridlington a glimmer of buildings some six miles in from the headland. A large swell began rolling in from the NE, almost at 45 degrees to our course. Waves 6 – 8 feet high, about two lengths of Vagabond apart, lazily lifting her and swinging her this way and that. As we neared Bridlington, the headland provided some shelter and we entered the harbour, following in the wake of a number of fishing vessels that showed us the way in as the usual gloom gathered along the coastline. 12 hours to do about 45 miles. The harbour was surprisingly busy and we were shepherded to a rather exposed pontoon near the top of the harbour.
I had intended to stay at Bridlington for a couple of days. However I found that the facilities were not brilliant (although warm) and the town was decidedly run down. By the time I was ashore, all the restaurants were shut(even the chippies) so I returned to Vagabond to consult the forecast. The wind would be in the right direction (SW or W) so I decided to go on to Scarborough as soon as the tide would let me next morning.
Translations etc
* Coming in
** Moving
*** one cable is a tenth of a nautical mile – approximately 100 yards
No comments:
Post a Comment