Two weeks on the road with Delta Lady
Departing from Herkingen felt special. I had been working here for so long that it was almost strange that it suddenly happened. Although it was windless, I felt quite a bit of tension when sailing. On the side there were various sailing acquaintances that I had met in Herkingen to say goodbye. My father Marcel and sailing friend Rolf were on board. For Dad it was even the first time he went sailing.
I had not often sailed Delta Lady through the locks and bridges myself. The weekend before I had already sailed to Roompot with Derrick to practice exactly that first part. Fortunately, because it was quite busy at the lock at departure. We were one of the last boats that could still be added and had to wait a while for the lock and maneuver among all the other boats. That actually went surprisingly smoothly. When Delta Lady was safely back in Roompot Marina a few hours later, it felt like the first important step had been taken. 20.4 nautical miles on the road and day one was over. Dad got off in creampot.
From Roompot we really went on the North Sea for the first time. After the Roompot lock we moored to look at the reefs in the mainsail. Of course exactly on Lagerwal, which means that sailing immediately became a good exercise. The sea outside turned out to be quite rough. High waves, a lot of wind and immediately circumstances in which Delta Lady and I were allowed to work seriously. In retrospect, this was even one of the roughest sailing days of the first two weeks. Not a quiet introduction, but perhaps a good one.
Via Blankenberge it continued to Dunkirk. Some stops turn out to be mainly practical along the way and Dunkirk fell into that category for me. It was busy, we were double on the passers-by jetty, there was quite a bit of swell in the harbor and the facilities were not exactly memorable. After 33.7 nautical miles it was especially nice to lie somewhere.
The next leg to Calais was shorter. We had power, but hardly any wind and therefore have a lot of engines. In Calais we were on a mooring buoy in front of the harbor entrance, because I wanted to continue in the middle of the night to use wind and tide as well as possible. Entering the harbor was an experience in itself. Large ferries that arrive at a speed where Delta Lady suddenly feels very small, calling a restless sea just before the entrance and the harbor master to ask for access.
We perform Calais again at four o’clock at night. In the dark, with the lighting of the harbor behind us and the ferries around us, I found that surprisingly nice. Request permission to leave the port, keep a close eye on the dark sea. We had power, but again little wind. Not the most beautiful sailing day, but such a moment when I noticed how much faster special situations start to feel normally.
Boulogne-sur-Mer was just a place I was looking forward to. I only visited the old town, the cathedral, the museum and the impressive crypt underneath. The night before departure it was blowing so hard that the waves hit the harbor wall. From the safe side of that wall, that mainly resulted in spectacular images.
Then came the first really long journey: almost 58 nautical miles to Dieppe. Almost eleven hours on the road and actually it just went well all day. Another sailboat with engine trouble was at the port entrance. I found it too exciting at the time to take them in tow. Fortunately, another boat came just behind us that could help. Sorry if you ever read this.
Dieppe was especially beautiful in the evening, but the next afternoon Delta Lady continued towards Fécamp. We arrived around the dark and we ended up triple at the passers-by jetty. It was busy, but that turned out not to be bad, because the weather would stay here for four days.
That unexpected break was actually wonderful. Fécamp became one of my favorite stops so far. I borrowed the neighbor’s folding bike, cycled around, swam with flippers until my ankles objected to it the next day and got to know the neighbors of Sailboat Perdu better. We went out for dinner together and took an evening walk. Later they also came to Cherbourg again. Those kinds of encounters make this trip fun.
After four days of waiting, we finally got a good weather window for the biggest trip so far: from Fécamp to Cherbourg. 81.8 nautical miles and more than fifteen hours on the road. The engine was running for the first four hours due to lack of wind, after which we were able to sail almost everything.
This was perhaps my favorite sailing day. At one point I sat at the mast foot, while Delta Lady walked quietly through the water. For hours only sea around you. No rush, no need to be anywhere else, just look at the water. Those are wonderful moments.
Just before Barfleur, the sea suddenly changed completely. Weird, restless waves and a clearly tangible stream. Fortunately we had the tide with us. It was a good memory of how much difference current can make. After that I was a little too enthusiastic about the sails for Cherbourg. Too early, it soon became apparent. With the counter current and the enormous port entrance for us, we could then drive for almost two hours.
The crew changes in Cherbourg. Rolf gets off and Dad comes back on board. With the electric bicycles of the city I could look around a little further and in the meantime it is also a good time to clean Delta Lady, stock up on groceries and use a washing machine for the first time after two weeks. On the way you learn amazingly quickly how little clothing you actually need.
Not everything goes without saying. On the way I lost a crucial bolt to a part at the mast, but luckily I had a reserve. The autopilot starts to sound pretty heavy, so I hope it will feel like sailing for a while. And since arrival in France I walk into every water sports store looking for a good drinking water filter system. The French tap water on board does not taste good to me because of the chlorine and various other sailors are enthusiastic about filter systems. Until now without success, but somewhere further along the coast one will probably pass by.
Unfortunately, sea animals have hardly shown themselves. No spectacular groups of dolphins next to the boat. What strikes me much more after two weeks is how quickly my own tension around the sailing has disappeared.
Before you leave, worry about what can go wrong, but I keep my head cool. This creates space to really be busy with sailing: looking at waves, wind and current, thinking about the tide, navigating and understanding why the boat does what it does. The more I sail, the more interesting I find that.
I also notice that I find some things less exciting than many sailors around me. Not because I think nothing can happen, but because fear adds little to what I have to do at that moment. Prepare though. Pay attention too. Troubleshoot if they occur absolutely. But experience all possible problems in advance?
After two weeks I feel much more confident about my own sailing skills than on the day I left Herkingen. I am starting to experience more and more that I just understand. Not everything, of course. But enough to go further and get better along the way.
And at the same time you discover something else: wherever you go, you always bring your own head. The worries I had in Herkingen do not magically disappear as soon as the Dutch coast is behind the horizon. Fortunately, there are not that many. What I mainly try to learn is not to automatically go along with it.
Sometimes I just have to look around me.
I live on my own sailboat. I sail along the French coast. I decide where I’m going tomorrow.
Why would I solve problems today that might never come?
If something happens, I’ll arrange it.
