Ramsgate was dreary and wet at nine am as we slowly motored out of the harbour in lumpy seas. We had decided to take the longer but safer route home north of the Margate sands, rather than the oddly named Overland route which takes you through some very shallow bits closer to the land.
The wind was as promised. A force 5 south easterly. We started the journey rolling like a pig with only the foresail up, and the wind almost dead behind us. Past North Foreland and north for a long time before we could turn left.
At last we raised the main sail and started to sail properly. And from then on, all the way home to Gillingham, we had a cracking sail.
Sirena IV lifted her skirts and ran with the fine wind. Yes it was raining and the world was grey but our beloved boat showed her mettle.
With the tide in our favour she was racing along at 6, 7 and even 8 knots, her sails perfectly balanced. Heeled over and creaming through the dark green seas.
By five we reached the familiar outline of Gillingham, with the blue gasometer appearing out of the drizzle. We filled up with fuel to keep diesel bug at bay, and slowly made our way into our old berth.
It had been three months and we had been to France twice, Dorset and the Solent as well as doing important work and family stuff.
More lovely days, and some hard, testing days on our beautiful thoroughbred boat. What an adventure we three have had.
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