The Skerries in daylight and kinder seas.and ‘Carmel Head’ it was then dark. We lit up the navigation lights etc. and switched off the engine (and fridge), to sail through the night. We were doing 7 or 8 knots over the ground, heading 20 / 30 degrees. By the time five hours had passed it was obvious that the seas were rising – it was a clear night, (beautiful stars sprinkled across the heavens), but the wind steadily increased to 28 knots, gusting 30. We ‘gybed’ accidentally as the bow got smashed by the waves, (I was on helm), and then agreed to quickly take off the canvas. Craig was brilliant – strong and decisive, getting the sails in pretty smartly. By now the seas were deep and following, with spray everywhere. The three big ships we saw were moving up and down a fair bit too. We motored on through this but it was getting uncomfortable. Craig didn’t feel brilliant, so Les and I did most of the helming and for the last two hours he did – I just chatted to him. We had decided to go into Douglas, Isle of Man, by this stage. Another 10 hours of buffeting wasn’t something we wanted to do.
Entry to the harbour was gained from the N.E. (heading 229) following leading marks, (white opposing triangles). These were illuminated at night by flashing, (occulting 10s), blue lights, supplemented by red flashing opposing arrows. This approach avoided possible overfalls at the end of the Breakwater. It was good to be out of the rough seas and into calmer waters. The fairway was marked by two Starboard hand buoys (Q(3)G.5s) & (Fl.G3s) and to Port a concrete ‘dolphin’ (2F.red vert). This marks the end of the Breakwater. The Pilot Book warns that, at the entrance, tides of up to 2 knots to the North East and South could be expected during flood and ebb tides respectively.
A stylised chart of the 'new' Douglas HarbourWhen we radioed the harbour for times of the bridge raising, the duty harbour master asked whether this meant we had come down the fairway without permission! It was after three o’clock in the morning for goodness sake, on a filthy night, with high seas and Force 8 winds! He also never mentioned the outside pontoons we could have tied up to (and slipped at any state of tide and got away!). Revenge? The local marina officer apologised about this misery's behaviour later.
The BridgeThe flap gate beneath the bridge apparently ensures that water remains in the harbour, keeping the marina afloat – just! The bridge itself seems to be operated (lifted) every half an hour at 15 minutes and 45 minutes for 2 hours every high tide, when it can be lifted to allow boats in and out of the harbour. Though it appears at rush hour this may not happen – so avoid later than 4pm and earlier than say 5:30 pm (is it just tough-luck if the tide is thereabouts?).
We moored up at pontoon B23 – with only half a foot under the keel we reckoned! By 5:30 am we had finished mooring, and having a welcome cup of tea, whilst we changed and dried out. We slept until 0830 – though by the time I surfaced second, Les was already ashore, (without any idea of the code to get back into the marina!), – so Craig and I went off to have breakfast in the market. Then we paid our dues in the marina office and got the weather forecast. Craig and I walked around town whilst Les got his head done. Then I went to the Ferry Terminal for a Wi-Fi connection to look up train times, weather forecast etc. and tides for our departure/arrival in Maryport. Craig and Les went down to the RNLI to have a cuppa and a chat.
Douglas from the air. Our berth was in the inner marina - just in the top right quarter of the photo above.
After some considerations of the forecast we cast off at 3 pm – the earliest we could get out – in spite of the Met Office predicting a forecast Force 8 - here’s the detail from Navetex!
GALE WARNING
TUESDAY 04 OCTOBER 0937 GMT 55 SOUTH UTSIRE SOUTHWESTERLY GALE FORCE 8 CONTINUING FORTH SOUTHWESTERLY GALE FORCE 8 CONTINUING IRISH SEA SOUTHWESTERLY GALE FORCE 8 EXPECTED LATER
So it was a case ‘go for it' or get stuck from now, (Tuesday), until the weekend. The Harbour Authorities didn’t want us to leave boat unattended. So we set off, with two deadlines or points of departure, both of which meant a return - if we judged the sea state too tough to keep going in. The weather for the first four hours was cloudy but we had decent enough weather. We decided to motor all the way, given the forecast - Les and Craig did almost all of the helming, although I felt fine. They looked like they were enjoying grappling the tiller against some fairly strong waves.
We made great time and passed our two key points in pretty decent weather and then I sat at back of cockpit, snug for most of journey. I was comfortable, warm and dozed off. By the time I woke up the waves were about three metres high. Craig took over the helm and Les and I watched - as best we could - for tricky waves, to give him some warning.
We did well on time, though it was dark now and really lumpy. We motored on as best we could but it was getting hairy. It was about one o’clock in the morning and Maryport couldn’t be accessed until 5am or thereabouts. Craig found Workington described as a 'safe refuge' so at about one thirty-ish we slipped into Workington (Location: Latitude 54º 39'N, Longitude 3º 35'W - Admiralty chart no. 2013: St. Bees Head – Silloth). This involved a fair run up the lee shore in cross winds and rough seas so it wasn’t pleasant. Then, at last, we lined up on the blue lights guiding us in and got into the outer harbour. This was sheltered, but with nowhere to moor and anchoring in this fairway to the port was forbidden. Be blowed, we anchored. Then Craig called up Liverpool Coastguard - to no effect on VHF - so we rang them on my mobile. He explained the situation. The lady coastguard helped us, (after recovering from the shock of realising we had come on from the Isle of Man), and in no time at all we got permission to tie up, rafting, on the Workington Lifeboat – 'Sir John Fisher' - a Tyne class lifeboat.
(This type was the first ‘fast’ slipway lifeboat but this particular one lies afloat. The features include a low-profile wheelhouse and a separate cabin - behind the upper steering position and the propellers are protected by substantial bilge keels. The last Tyne was built in 1990 - though this had been refurbished - and the class is being gradually replaced by the Tamar class).
The local RNLI Coxswain, John Stobbart, had ‘okayed’ our berthing alongside but also warned us that "in this wind and sea no sensible person would go back out!" So this meant failing to reach Maryport – only 4.5Nm north of Workington! Oh well … that;’s sailing for you.
Workington Harbour - the lock gates guarding the port. (In daylight!).So we waited until the lock gates opened at 04:15 and then entered the Prince of Wales dock. The maximum depth of water in here is 10.2 metres during spring tides and 7.2 metres during neap tides. Tidal predictions are stated relative to the dock gate cill, which is 1.16m below Chart Datum. The Port operates an enclosed dock to keep berthed vessels afloat during the low water period. The dock gates are opened up to 2.5 hours prior to high water and close up to 2 hours after, dependent on the draft of vessels at berth in the dock.
We moored up – it all seemed so dodgy – the quay walls were 20 foot walls; access to the sock was up rusting ladders in quayside walls. Les went up as we hauled the boat close enough for him to reach the ladder, then we stood off. He got soaked in the rain lashed night, waiting for Craig to successfully land a line for him to pull up with the warps attached. We needed really long warps too and the springs just about managed – tied to he top of the ladder. We had already hung out all the fenders on starboard side. We got the luggage and rubbish off and with fingers crossed climbed out – signed off with the harbour master and got a taxi to the rail station. We shared a train from Maryport to Carlisle then Craig and Les headed off on the Euston train to change at Warrington, then Chester then home to Holyhead. My train left Carlisle an hour later but was the Carlisle – Settle – Leeds train. I got off at Skipton and Sophie picked me up. A stunning rail journey to finish an eventful three days!
