Marica goes clockwise

Wells is a lovely spot, but if I didn't leave today the wind and tide gods would be against me for around a week. I was hoping to leave at 8:30, three hours before high water, but the harbour staff thought there would not be sufficient water until after 9. At 9:15 I was given the go ahead, but to go steady and keep close to the red buoys. It was very shallow still and the channel is narrow with boats still high and dry and mud banks lining it. I had surveyed the channel at low water the previous day. We touched the bottom briefly twice and had two more serious groundings that needed reversing out of. Getting past the outer harbour and onto the beach I could see what looked like an unbroken line of surf ahead. I saw Mark was on the beach with his camera. I knew my fenders were still out but there had not been the chance to stow them.

I followed the winding channel out and the waves were pretty steep and Marica was slamming up and down. Below decks items were jumping about, and all the fenders stowed themselves on deck. It seemed a long way to the start of the marked route. I upped the engine revs to increase our rate of progress. The sea was still fairly rough once out of the buoyed channel. One of the Coastwatch guys yesterday had said there is no land between here and the North Pole, and it was a northerly wind.

It was uncomfortable on the boat and I headed further out to try and find calmer water. I considered making for Blakeney, which was only a few miles away. With the engine and headsail we were making 7 knots with the tide under us. Great Yarmouth or Lowestoft the following ports, each more than 50 miles distant. It might still be possible to achieve one of those in daylight, if I could stomach the conditions. For once I did feel a little sea sick, maybe it was down to the pink champagne that Mark's friend Raj had supplied late last night, or a dodgy peanut. I kept both options open.

An engine warning alarm went off, it was the temperature sensor. I reduced the revs and checked water was still pumping through. All seemed OK, but I'd been running at highish revs since negotiating the bar. The alarm did not clear, so I braved the deck and got the mainsail up. With the engine off our speed was a little slow for my plan. The engine did not feel to be overheating. Blakeney now looked more appealing, but going back to Wells might be the most sensible option.

We kept going and I restarted the Volvo a couple of times in the next two hours, but the alarm came on straight away. Time to start the trusty Honka. We were going to have a night arrival. After four hours and the alarm still sounded I believed it to be faulty and disconnected it. The wind was dead behind but kept changing, together with the fairly rough sea. To prevent inadvertent gybing we were running 20 or 30 degrees off course.

There was a lovely sunset around 5:30, with about 15 miles to run to Great Yarmouth. The tide was now against and we were making less than 4 knots with the Volvo in low power. There was a wind farm and some shoals to negotiate. I tried a short cut over Caister Shoal, but the waves were steep so I kept to the main channel. There was lots of shipping around Great Yarmouth, but it was a clear night with a half moon and all the navigation marks were easily identified by their flash rates.

The entrance to the River Yare is to the south of the large harbour and obscured from view until very close. I was listening on Channel 12 and monitoring ship movements. I suddenly identified the entrance and headed for it. Difficult to make out with all the shore lights and some big flood lights on what may have been a dredger. I was waiting for a gap in the radio traffic to announce my intentions and seek permission to enter. The green, white, green lights showed that was necessary, but I'd not seen them yet. I heard the harbour advise a pilot boat of a yacht near the entrance, I broke in and stated my intentions. A little more notice would be appreciated next time I was informed!

We motored slowly up the river. Lots of big ships, wharfs and distracting lights. I was taking down the main a slab at a time in between nudging the helm to keep us on course. The mooring is a couple of miles up river by a bridge that needs some notice to open and costs £200 at night. We were suddenly at the bridge. The harbour wall has some steps and I got a line round and then tied up securely. I tidied some of the mess downstairs resulting from the severe shaking on our Wells exit. I cleared the cockpit and put the sail cover on. 59.3 miles covered in 12 hours, maximum speed 7.8 knots, an average of 4.9. Time for a beer!

I liked the sound of the Mariners Arms. A lovely pub with Betty Stogs amber bitter on tap for £3:10. It's from Skinners brewery, I thought I'd try a pint, even though Cornwall was some time ago. A rather pleasant slightly fruity ale. The pub was friendly, I spent an hour checking forecasts and messages. A local business group were on a night out and invited me to have a shot with them. Oh OK, just to be social. I ended up playing pool and eating a takeaway kebab in the pub until the early hours. It's a good job we are not sailing tomorrow (Saturday).

The photo is of the calm waters of the narrow channel on the way out of Wells.