London Cruise - Woolverstone to Medway

Our first big adventure started quietly enough, getting away from home with a remarkable lack of fuss and struggle,compared to the previous few days of work, which had seen me getting back home at almost midnight the day before. We got everything stowed, plus a few minor jobs completed before the crew arrived - Rebecca and Thea had answered an email to CUY - Cambridge University Yachting, and had bravely signed up for a five day trip with us. After the usual introductions and briefing, we set of down river at midday.

The forecast was SW force 4-5, just where we were going, but it started out in the west, so we got some sailing in with one reef, staysail and about half the jib unfurled. Things were going well but the wind eased and swung further south, as forecast, so engine on and motorsailing began. We were to motor almost all the rest of this trip as the wind continued to sense our plans and swing to be on the nose wherever we went.

We plotted our route into the GPS and motored through the maze of shallow sandbanks that line the approaches to the Thames. At the narrowest and shallowest part of all, the depth suddenly dropped to only a few feet. We were following the GPS course, but something had to be wrong. A quick check of the chart confirmed that we were off course and we corrected quickly. The lesson here is two-fold: the person who writes down the waypoints should also put them into the GPS, Rebecca had misread my '4' for a '9', understandably when I looked at the bit of paper I'd given her. Also, whenever a waypoint is passed, read a bearing off the chart and confirm that it matches the GPS. On this day, in the mudflats of the East Coast, these mistakes could have led to an embarassing few hours on the mud waiting for the tide. In coral reefs, they could cost us the boat.

We were just digesting the lessons from that one when the engine slowed down and quietly stopped. Er, that's odd. Fortunately, we were at a decent angle for sailing for the next 15 minutes, but after that we had to head back into the wind, which meant a hard and uncomfortable beat, or turning round and reaching back towards home, or fixing the engine. Starting the engine again resulted in a few seconds of running OK then the same slow run-down to stop. It felt like a fuel problem, but we certainly had full tanks. Nothing obvious with the filters, so out with the manual. In the next five minutes, I learnt how to bleed this engine, which is very useful knowledge, and somewhat surprisingly had the engine up and running again. I think the crew took this as all part of the normal course of events, but I was more concerned than I let on. As it transpired, the engine was to run without a fault for the next four days, so I think it must have been a long term accumulation of air in the system.

We eventually made it to the River Medway after eight hours of travelling. Gesa had taken to her bunk a couple of hours before, as tiredness and a little seasickness took it's toll. Max and Issie had been great, keeping themselves amused without too much bickering, and being content with watching movies in their cabin for a few of those hours. We learnt that Max does get seasick - not surprising given that he insisted on staying in a bucking forecabin watching a movie on a small screen. Issie seems to have inherited my iron stomach, nothing affected her although she does pretend when she wants attention. "Daddy, I'm sick. I'm really, really sick Daddy....' but she never was.

Anchor down, dinner on, nice glass of wine and watch the sunset. We were south - a job well done. Tomorrow we cruise up the Thames into the heart of one of the greatest cities on the planet. Really, it is. We just don't realise it because we live here.