I left Nieuwpoort before light and experienced that sailor’s privilege, to see the sun rise out of the sea. I made my way close inshore against the last of the eastgoing tide. There was no wind and I abandoned attempts to sail.

The sea was glassy smooth and the day grew very hot. Visibility was not good and a haze hung across the horizon, making it difficult to judge distance. I was monitoring VHF channels 16 and 74 (channel VTS) and heard no less than three reports of large inflatable boats carrying migrants. This was the first day of calm weather after a period of strong winds, and evidently boats were setting out uptide on the French coast. A French navy vessel was patrolling and deployed its two fast RIBs to track the migrants along the edge of French waters. From the VHF traffic, it seemed that the migrants were picked up by a lifeboat and taken to Dover.

Approaching Dover harbour I was welcomed by a porpoise gliding past, as well as a seal inside the harbour. I paused to refuel before taking my berth, and this took some time. Although the fuel pumps had the mechanism for self service, a rather uncertain looking man leaned over the high quay and said that self service was not working. Only one pump was working, so I had a wait and once I had filled my tank, I had to visit the man in his shed. He was in charge of a most Byzantine computer system and after a few minutes of “hunt and peck”, suggested I might type it faster. All of this contrived to occupy an hour from entering the marina to tying up. Fortunately, I was not in a hurry.

The EU administration of border control had been accomplished by visiting the cheerful border policeman in his office the previous evening. The UK side of things was achieved via an efficient looking web site. However, the information was far from clear. “We have sent you an email”. No, you didn’t. “You must ring yacht line as soon as you enter UK waters”. When I rang, the automated message told me no call was needed. “You must fly a Q flag until contacted by border control”. I’d be flying that still, if I’d followed that instruction!

The next morning was forecast for northeasterlies, increasing in strength and swinging to SW. I left early, but not early enough. The promised SE wind was light and variable and not long before Dungeness head, I noticed a yacht ahead of me on a parallel course bear away to the south, close hauled. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I experienced the same 90-degree wind shift. I decided to drop sails and motor into the wind, the other boat beat on. I took an offshore route past Dungeness, to maximise the tidal lift but progress gradually slowed across Rye bay. The wind increased to about F6 and though Molly bravely plugged into the short steep seas this created, her speed was rather curtailed. I watched as the boat I had seen earlier crossed and recrossed my path, evidently with much better boat speed than me.

Late, I crept up to Beachy Head on a foul tide, slower and slower until the speed over the ground was less than two knots. He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day, so I reluctantly turned tail and sped downwind into Eastbourne at seven knots!

The next day was much calmer, with wind in the north. However it was too light to be useful, so I motored across Sussex Bay past the Rampion wind farm.

I was earlier than planned at Selsey and the current was still foul. However, it was neap tides and the sea was very flat. I therefore decided to avoid as much of the tide as possible by approaching from somewhat south of the Looe Channel and then motoring over the Outer Owers.

This is an outlying reef usually carefully avoided, but this very shallow water (4-12m observed) carried perceptibly less current. The breeze woke up at that point too, so I got a little help from the sails just when it was most helpful!

A great breeze from the north east filled in and gave me a lovely sail across the eastern Solent – what a fabulous way to end this wonderful adventure. I was enjoying the sail so much that I sailed right into the harbour, dropping the main right opposite HMS Queen Elizabeth. The police boat mooched over to give me marks out of ten, though I’m glad it was dark, because it was not a tidy fuel! I had breeze and tide pushing me into my berth, as well as being full dark by that time. I was pleased I managed that nicely but was pleased someone came by to help had I needed it.

So that’s the end of Molly’s Netherlands meander, and what a wonderful adventure it’s been. I’d like to publicly thank the wonderful Dutch organising team, Dirk and Linda Peeters for their guidance during the return leg and to my fellow UK OGA members who were such great company.

The season is mostly over, but Molly will stay in the water this winter because I hope to make a few local trips in the coming months.

• NL OGA 20
• Rallies
• Trips