On the day of our departure, the weather was pants. Dark, grey skies and a stiff breeze (20kts – NNE). Even though it had only just gone six, Robert was already around. We made our final goodbyes and cast off.

Once in open waters we were once again met by short, steep seas. Lots of rolling and pitching. I went down below to fix some breakfast and I was nauseous within minutes. And I haven’t been seasick in donkey’s years.
In these seas, sailing close to the wind became nigh on impossible with help from the engine. Even with the engine the autopilot struggled to keep us on course and average SOG dropped to just below 5kts. There now followed a couple of hours where the thought foremost in my mind was; ‘Why didn’t I just take up snooker’.

All good things come to an end. Fortunately, all bad things come to an end too. When Westhinder Anchorage came into view we were sailing once again. The TSS towards Antwerp was extremely busy, and I was kept busy dodging freighters for quite a while. Once clear of Westhinder, sea state improved and the sun put in an appearance once in a while. I just watched the world go by for much of the rest of the trip.

By the time we reached Cork Sands the wind had veered East. The run dead downwind to Landguard was very ‘rolly’ and slow, so I thought it would be good idea to fire up the engine once again. A good idea it might have been, but the engine refused to play ball. Turned the key and the engine went: bop-bop-bop... and then nothing... . Tried again, but the result remained the same. Bugger! Fule gauge well into the red. Either we had run out or, much more likely, the crud at the bottom of the tank had clogged the fuel filters. A distinct possibility given the lumpy passage.

Panicked (mentally) for all of 5 seconds. Then, training kicked in. We would sail into our berth, there was no other possibility. Winds would abate once we were on the river and as the wind direction was predominately easterly sailing into our berth was doable.

Radioed ahead to inform the marina that we would be sailing in but they had already shut up shop for the night. Initial recce through binos lead me to believe that there was a boat in our berth but I could not be sure.

Sailed on with one reef in the main and two in the genoa. Pushing the last of the ebb, progress was slow but I needed the time to get (mentally) prepared. Arrived at the SYH fairway buoy at HW-1 and entered the narrow channel towards the marina with some trepidation. Dropped the main when we got to the seawall and turned hard to port. There was indeed a boat in our berth (with our luck that day, there just had to be) but at least there were people on board and they caught on pretty quickly that we had no engine. We let fly the genoa to slow the boat and a kind soul took our lines. Bar a minor scuffmark all went well. It’s reassuring to find that I can still do the things I was trained to do way back in the Stone Age. Packed and went home. Tired but relieved.

I’m working this week, so next week I’ll attempt to service the engine (another first) with the help of my youngest and refuel. Hopefully, that’s all what’s needed as the boat kitty funds are otherwise depleted. Fingers crossed and hope for the best.

PS: I've also uploaded some more pictures to the Summer 2013 gallery.