Ramsgate Archives - Sail Element

By: Noah D.

Since our last post from Ramsgate, we’ve been clocking up the mileage. Ramsgate… past Dover in the wee hours of the morning… to Brighton briefly… then a brisk blow into the Solent and a stay at a buoy in Cowes… and finally, a really long haul all the way to Dartmouth in which we dodged crab pots, fishing trawlers, and motorsailed against the current to get us on the Dart River around 0330 in the morning.

For the past few days, we’ve been reveling at the beauty of this place. Ye who hast never been outside of London has never been to England.

I, now, am the sailboat out at sea that is seen from Brighton, from the Portsmouth ferries, from across the twinkling hillsides of Dartmouth and Kingswear. Out of season and miles from shore, we are the sailors who are continuing on our way long after the sun goes down.

And, let me tell you… I’m not sure I understood darkness until I sailed at night for the first time. This is darkness you can feel. Even a large city on the horizon casts no glow far enough to reach Proteus. On a moonless sky, you can only see the deck of the boat and practically nothing else. Luckily, we had the moon with us crossing from Portland Bill to Dartmouth, but not so from Ramsgate rounding Dover. True darkness and miles from shore.

Ferries, I understand now, are sneaky: gigantic oceanliners, they can go from being a tiny spot on the horizon to filling your view in minutes.

But we have had some seriously good sailing days. Coming out of Brighton, we were under full sail and making great time. Also, leaving Cowes and sailing through the Needles, we almost touched 10kts over the ground with a four knot tide. Had we a little more wind, we could have easily hit double digits.

Now, we are waiting for the dreaded “Weather Bomb” to move through. It has dumped literally 50 foot waves into far northern Scotland. Some places have flashed into three digit windspeeds up north. Disgusting. But tomorrow, we will be moving on from this amazing place that we have really fallen in love with. Leave, we must.

Our clothes are clean and we are warm and fed well. The winds howl outside for a few more hours before we head farther west. Next, we are headed for Lands End and the 140nm passage in open ocean to Ireland beyond. Our time in England has drawn to a close.

For that, stay tuned…

We crossed the Prime Meridian, btw. We’ve done it dozens and dozens of times, of course, because it is in London. But this time, we sailed across… Proteus is now in The West.

Oh, and I don’t want to forget to mention: we were boarded by the Border Force! Right off Portland Bill, we saw a ship that inspired the comment: “That looks a lot like a battleship.” Well, it was a Border Force patrol boat. About that time, they launched a tender that quickly intercepted us. They boarded and we had a nice little chat, they checked all our papers, and left us in peace. Honestly, it was a rather pleasant experience and the crew was utterly professional. Of course, we had to wipe off a few heavy bootprints off the teak, but they’re doing their job and we were just passing through.

For our first passage on this journey, we sailed across the Thames Estuary from Ipswich to Ramsgate. It was our first experience with open-water sailing of this nature, and what an experience it turned into!

You’ll have to pardon the light number of photos, a few other things consumed my time – like sailing! – and it got dark, of course, at 3:45pm as it does this time of year:

The first few hours of the day was in extraordinarily thick fog. Complete white-out, actually. For these first hours in my ship’s log, I believe I might have written in the “Visibility” category: none. Navigating barely buoy to buoy, we made our way down the River Orwell to Harwich. In the Harwich Harbor, we raised both sails and began our sail south.

Of course, navigating the Thames Delta is no brief glance, and, with a North-ish wind at about 10kts, we headed towards the south. We headed slightly east to avoid the constantly shifting sands, passing by Roughs Tower (or the Principality of Sealand) and just at the boundaries of the Sunk Precautionary Area where the not-so-aptly named Sunk Lightship sits in the center of one of the world’s largest roundabouts.

Imagine a roundabout that is so big that 300 meter container ships must make their way around: that’s the Sunk Precautionary Area.

Anyways, so around lunchtime, we caught the southbound current. It was like being on a conveyor belt. At one point, we topped 9kts over the ground. This conveyor belt was not to last. The sky got darker and darker and so did the tide. By the time we reached the Thanet Wind Farm – just a few hundred meters away – it was completely dark and the tide was setting against us. The wind farm looked light a giant city in the water, blinking all manner of lights.

We had been on one reef in the main for a while with sustained winds in the lower 20’s, but when the gusts started hitting 30kts and the following seas moved around to the starboard quarter, we went to a second reef and took in the headsail further.

Lynn had been feeling a bit under the weather just at dark and had gone below to lay down. She says she dozed off. When she awoke, she said she thought all hell had broken loose… the clothes that usually hang on the door were swinging wildly back and forth. The following seas and the winds were making for quite a rough ride.

As we approached Ramsgate and got within a mile of the coast, the wind slacked and the rolling eased and, though we were still against an almost 2kts current, we were still powering along at over 5kts. We came into the Ramsgate Harbour, moored, and slept.

The Subsequent Days

I’m sitting now at the galley table, feeling all warm and cozy. Outside, though, I’m listening to gale winds howl in the rigging and rock us back and forth with the substantial sea swell coming through the mouth of the harbour. The mooring lines catch us from the wind’s mindless shoves and the lines growl sharply on the cleats.

You might not think anything is out of the ordinary at all from the evidence in this photo. Only the wetness outside the window at the top right might give away that there is a serious storm outside. We’re hearing vessel traffic in the English Channel and pilots are delayed until the worst of the Force 8 winds burn themselves out.

We will stay hunkered down in the Ramsgate Harbour for another 24hrs or so and wait for the seas to chill. Because the sea has a good memory of the violence that is thrown across its surface.

Brighton is next. I hope you’ll stay tuned…

Tag: Ramsgate

Between the storms: Ramsgate, Brighton, Cowes, Dartmouth…

Sailing across the Thames Estuary…

The Subsequent Days