Finally the weather gave me a window to continue moving south. Tide required an early start, so I got everything ready the night before. Water filled, power line disconnected, cockpit awning stowed. All the lines were rigged ready to slip - this means they go from a cleat on board, through a cleat or ring on the dock, and back to the cleat on board. I cast off without setting foot on the pontoon in the morning.

Departure wasn't entirely smooth: a fairly large wooden boat had moored astern of me, with a dinghy in davits on her stern. The kick of my prop in astern took me inexorably towards her. Going ahead, to avoid that boat, took my anchor perilously close to another. It took quite a bit of to-ing and fro-ing, and quite a blast with the bow thruster, to get out. The oar of my own dinghy got entangled with the pushpit of the boat inside me - but that has been neglected for several years and needs a lawnmower taking to her stern, so I didn't wake anybody up! No damage to anyone, but embarrassing. I was glad that at 05:15 there was no-one to watch. Then I got a wave from another early riser, also catching the tide. Ooops.

Underway and outside the harbour, visibility was only about a mile in the dank, overcast morning. The sea was like a mirror. I'd been warned to make sure I had the tide with me, and that it would take me down to Belfast Lough very quickly. Well, it was with me, but I never saw more than 1.5kts the whole way down.

As I approached Belfast Lough, the weather cleared up a bit, letting me see a little of this beautiful coast, but still no wind.

I phoned the marina at Bangor to ask about a berth: "anywhere you like on E berth; plenty of room". That's easy! I rigged for my preferred starboard side to. As I came round the end of E pontoon, I was hailed by the crew of another boat, and father and son took my lines. Even easier! I later slightly regretted taking this first available berth - it's a long walk along E pontoon...