Across the wild and lonely ocean

OK, so the Thames estuary is not really an ocean in the generally accepted scheme of things, but is was wild at times, although not very lonely either.

We left Brightlingsea with a forecast of force 5-6 with thundery showers and, for a change, the forecast was right. The first few hours were a glorious reach with a couple of reefs in for comfort and the sun shining on a lumpy green-grey sea. It was fast and fairly uneventful sailing, although the lumps and bumps got the better of Gesa and Issie before too long and they headed down to their bunks.

Max insisted on having a nap on the high side, holding on to keep himself in his chosen bunk. This could only have one, predictable, ending, so I carefully moved him to the low side, whereupon he woke up, complained and crawled back to this spot.

About ten minutes later, the inevitable happened as we rolled over one particularly large wave and Max tumbled to the floor. Shocked, he finally realised why Daddy had insisted on him moving, and he took to a more suitable bunk. Leecloths are on order.

On the South side of the estuary, we had to head up towards the wind to make the Medway and our destination, Chatham. By now the thunderstorms were tracking across as quite vicious short squalls. We were close to another boat most of the time, and they told us later that they had over 40 knots of wind - that's gale force gusts. We thought it was certainly windy, but the boat had no trouble in that weather. After a grim hour and a half we finally entered the river and life calmed down nicely for a gentle trip up to Chatham.
Berthing in Chatham Marina, we were treated to some spectacular rainbows as the latest thunderstorm tracked across. We were pleased to be in, enjoyed our supper and looked forward to a day exploring the historic dockyard, now a large museum with lots to see and do. I'd enjoyed the voyage, but the family were just pleased to be somewhere where the boat kept still and the shore had possibilities for playtime.