Set off with Hartlepool in mind but the lack of swell and a wind that veered to the SW made Scarborough possible; arriving long after dark at 21:30, I was exhausted. Paul and Ruth are safely moored in Hartlepool and have negotiated a secure spot for their beautiful yacht for the winter; their summer long cruise over. Saying our goodbyes on Ch8 is not ideal, but I'm sure they understand.
I'm not sure I can do many more night passages; far too many close calls with lobster pots including one with a huge stick and black plastic flags than ran along the entire length of the boat; I though I was being attacked by birds; as they flapped by; all absolutely invisible at night until you're almost on top of them.
Scarborough's entrance, minus the lights that should be there, that are broken, is rather daunting as the water's not deep at low tide; you seem very close to the shiny wet beach and amusement arcades and bright lights that hamper your night vision before the entrance is visible. The night keeper gave clear instructions; an easy berth proffered on a pontoon covered with seagulls that complained noisily at being moved on. As I was heating my beef pies, donated by the RNYC, a huge juvenile gull flew into a stay with a twang and flopped into the sea; it seemed OK - well it was swimming with it's wings folded correctly. I'll report it when I go to the marina office in the morning.
Hull maybe tomorrow?
I'm not sure I can do many more night passages; far too many close calls with lobster pots including one with a huge stick and black plastic flags than ran along the entire length of the boat; I though I was being attacked by birds; as they flapped by; all absolutely invisible at night until you're almost on top of them.
Scarborough's entrance, minus the lights that should be there, that are broken, is rather daunting as the water's not deep at low tide; you seem very close to the shiny wet beach and amusement arcades and bright lights that hamper your night vision before the entrance is visible. The night keeper gave clear instructions; an easy berth proffered on a pontoon covered with seagulls that complained noisily at being moved on. As I was heating my beef pies, donated by the RNYC, a huge juvenile gull flew into a stay with a twang and flopped into the sea; it seemed OK - well it was swimming with it's wings folded correctly. I'll report it when I go to the marina office in the morning.
Hull maybe tomorrow?
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