Brighton to Honfleur 3rd April 2023

The last couple of weeks has been spent assessing when would be the best window for our crossing to France. After weeks of strong winds and constant rain in Southern England, last weekend looked vaguely promising.  Originally we wanted to go on 31st March but the winds were blowing 40 kts.  The final decision was to try in the early hours of Monday 3rd. Various forecasting models all indicated we'd have the wind on our beam, under or around 20kts, and the sea state not too rough. Here we go!

Sunday was calm and sunny. Igor and I walked to the Brighton Marina breakwater  - a smooth blue sea. No excuses.

At 3am Monday we made ready to leave, our youngest son keeping us company. An extra pair of strong and capable hands made everything that much easier.  We had already put two reefs in the mainsail the previous night before we went to bed.

We left the marina an hour before low water, taking care as it can be very shallow. Luckily our draft is only 1.1m with the keel up.  Once we cleared the marina entrance we dropped the keel and raised the genoa. I went back to bed, as did our son, leaving Igor to enjoy the peace and quiet of the early hours. For safety he motorsailed with the jib fully out, not wanting to raise the main in the dark.

Igor woke me around 6.  The sky was brightening as we approached the shipping lanes. He'd raised the main alone and we were sailing at around 10kts through the water. Around 6.30 I saw a few rosy gold clouds on the horizon. The sun was rising. I woke our son as he wanted to see this. What a special moment.

There were only two ships crossing our route as we approached the westbound lane of the TSS and we passed behind the second, safely clearing the area after a course adjustment. Technically the shipping lanes stop just east of our route but the marine traffic was still very much in evidence.

Next was the eastbound shipping. When crossing the westbound lane we'd had to divert course to pass the traffic safely but when crossing the eastbound lane by sheer luck we went through without any hindrance. Looking at the AIS traffic there was a whole 'train' of ships following each other and once we were past the zone we saw them stretching endlessly back across the Channel. Good timing by our skipper.

There was an interesting boat at anchor between the two separation zones, mid channel. The depth was about 60 metres. I wonder what the story is?

After this I went back to bed again. I was suffering with the tail end of a nasty cold and my voice had disappeared so I wasn't very good company.  I woke again around 8.30 and made breakfast, rolls (which I fried in butter) with a fried egg and sliced avocado. Sadly, no bacon. Igor went for a rest leaving me with my son on watch. He did a lot of dinghy sailing growing up and I was impressed by his attention to detail setting the sails.

The day moved on. We were averaging a steady 10kts over the water, SOG around 8 kts. The seas built up. Our course meant that we were surfing most of them but every so often we'd enter a dip. Thanks to a lot of anti seasickness medication (Stugeron) we all felt ok. The sea state meant that the cabin was ... 'exciting'. Using the heads in lots of layers of clothing was a challenge by itself. I heated tinned soup for lunch and scalded my hand a little when the boat lurched. I was grateful it wasn't a CuppaSoup, that would have been much hotter.

A little while after this I noticed, as I scanned the horizon, that we could see the misty cliffs of the French coastline in the distance.

As we neared the Rouen Channel towards Honfleur we changed course from 180 to a more westerly direction, so the wind was now on our nose. Down came the sails and we motored for the rest of the journey.  

The sea was calmer now and it all felt very sedate though the foul tide was strong and thanks to the headwind we were barely making 3 kts. We arrived at the Honfleur lock five minutes after it closed, 19:25 French time (18:25 in England). It opens for inward traffic at five minutes to the hour and stays open for about 20 minutes.  There are no waiting buoys so we motored up and down the river for half an hour or so until the lockkeeper radioed instructing us to enter the lock. We were the only boat and the procedure was straightforward - throw a rope around the bollard, this then rises as water is let into the lock.  A few minutes later we were able to proceed to the only empty space on the visitors' quay, right at the end.  We moored uneventfully then, once the boat was secure we had a celebratory tot of rum that Igor had thoughtfully provided.

We were very ready to go to a nearby restaurant for a well deserved and much appreciated meal.

Total time at sea was about 13 hours, 3 hours of which was the slow approach to Honfleur. It would have been 12½ if we'd reached the lock 5 minutes earlier.

We've been planning this for so long it's almost unreal that we have finally set off on our big adventure!