Hearty Hartlepool

Just before midday on Monday, I called the Whitby bridge contol to request an opening at midday. 'Thtat's fine, but be aware there are 3 trawlers coming in, I'd keep out of their way...' came the reply. I cast off and backed into the pool, where we went round in circles until the bridge opened. The bridge contol wasn't kidding; the tralwers charged through the bridge opening like ace tennis serves at Wimbldon (hey - a topical reference!).



The bridge swings shut



After they had passed, Vagabond went sedately through the gap and the bridge swung closed sharply

behind us.

It was high tide, so there was much more water under our keel than when we came in and the swell had completely died away. Soon, we were out through the entrance, and had turned left.

Up went the sails and we were off, just touching five and half knots. Whitby and the  imposing church and abbey ruins (as well as the tourists and fish and chip shops) were behind us.

The wind was just off the port bow and  Vagabond heeled strongly to starboard as the wind suddenly picked up to 15 kn. It seemed determined to stay that strong, si I put a reef* into the mainsail.

We continued at 5.5 knots. 'This is great', I thought, 'We'll be in Hartelpool by 6 ish'.

The wind stayed at 15 knots but slowly shifted to the north, so we veered East, out to sea, following it. Of course, we actually wanted to go slightly West of North, so this couldn't last. After about half an hour, we tacked and headed back towards the shore. Now our course was North West, more or less, but still not quite in the right direction.

So we zig zagged again. Then the wind died. On came Freddie for an hour or so, then the wind came back, still in the wrong direction, but it slowly shifted back to the West. That was better.

The coast of North Yorkshire looked pretty in the afternoon light and Redcar passed by.


As did the old and new industries of Teeside.










A pilot boat rushed out to an impatient skipper and then rushed home again.

Shipping happened

Shipping happened just as were were trying to cross the channel into the River Tees.

By now the tide had turned against us and, as usual, the light was making our landfall difficult to find. Also as usual, a local boat rushed in ahead of us and effectively showed us the way. I called the marina lock control and, as usual, was told to wait abit. We finally go into the lock at about eight o'clock. Freddie was shut down at 20:30, when we were alongside our berth.

A day off tomorrow, there's meant to be a good maritime museum, as well as a restored early 19th century man o'war.


The log on the bulkhead



But that's tomorrow. Now is the time for bed, after I have written up the log and cleaned it off the cabin bulkhead.....

Then outcame the sleeping bag and the pyjamas and I was lost to the world for eight hours.

Translations etc

* Made the sail smaller by folding it up a bit