I've just watched Lady Daphne, a Thames barge, locking into the marina. She warped around the tight bends to reach her berth in the West Dock. Yesterday they opened Tower Bridge for her, as we held station, awaiting our turn in the lock. The last few days have been a bit of a blur. We had a cracking run down from Brightlingsea to Leigh on Sea, under genoa alone, the fresh North Easterly speeding us towards my birthplace. We anchored in the Ray Gut and at 9 p.m. Near the top of the tide, we crept inshore hoping to get alongside to pick up my sister for the trip up the Thames. Despite only drawing 1.2 metres we ran aground. Some speedy motoring astern slid us afloat and we stood off the Essex Yacht Club, whilst my brother persuaded the club water taxi to ferry Marian out to us. We re-anchored in the Ray and rose at first light, 3.30 to punch the last of the ebb and carry the full flood up the 40 miles to Tower Bridge. After. Good meal near Butlers Wharf, we slept like babies. This morning I waved a sad farewell to Harry and Barry, with whom I've voyaged 350 miles in the last week and enjoyed the best sailing to date. Tomorrow we hope to squeeze amongst the barges in the first lock out of the day and start the passage to Dartmouth. Once again London has impressed to the full.