Day 31 – Holme next the Sea to Mablethorpe - 20th June – 25.6 nm
We had worked things
nicely to be in a good position to cross the Wash, I really didn't
want to get stuck here waiting for another day or two. But I was a
little concerned about the weather; the forecasts gave a confliciting variety of
wind strengths and directions for the coming days, while Magicseaweed
forecast an increasing swell from the north. I was getting tired,
and that meant a good faff was never far away. Neither of us could
face another dose of early morning indecision, while I tried to work
out the correct answer to the go-nogo crossing question. Sleep was
fitful in the van for the night.
But the morning arrives
with a steady SW breeze, with the swell on the ebb this could be
splashy, but when we get to the water there is no swell at all. It is
flat calm, I'll have a gentle side wind, but even this is forecast
to go southerly later – I love it when a plan comes together!
Except it doesn't of
course. Somehow I have made a balls-up with the planning; when I
check the figures it is very obvious that we are two hours late. What
the heck happened there? Bum, I don't want to lose the day.
But all is not lost; it
is not an ideal start to the day, but then the distance will be
limited by the Donna Nook Range anyway. A quick re-plan shows that it
is all still possible. Just need to paddle a little harder fatboy.
I'm off the beach with
a 'race-you' bet ringing in my ears. Who can be the fastest to the
other side? Pride, and the washing-up, depend on this one.
For me, the the
planning fart-up means I'm straight out into a 2 kt tide from the
side, meaning a rather chunky ferry glide. But even so I'm making 5
kt progress, not sure how, but I'm happy not to try to work that one out.
As I paddle further out
the breeze does indeed back a little, and the ebbing flow tends to
take a more northerly direction. Other than the grey skies, and the
lack of world-peace, there isn't much wrong with the day.
I've no real desire to
see Skeggy or Ingoldmells again and so dial in a heading to Chapel
Saint Leonards. As I close on Ingoldmells the radio springs to life;
so just where is the Team Manager then? Skeggy – Ha! It's not the
old fatboy who'll be wearing the Marigolds tonight then!
As I close on the
dubious delights of Mablethorpe, the tide changes and the breeze
strengthens. But the last minute re-plan works nicely, as I push
against the tide for only the last 40 mins or so. All said and done I
can't complain too much about that. I am rather happy to tick another
one off.
We struggle to find a
campsite; once again the 'friendly club' isn't, we are turned away
numerous times. But eventually we stumble across a small site, where
our nervous inquiry receives a friendly welcome. The site has been
the owner's long-term project since he dug his first pond and planted
his first tree in the '80s. It is a fantastic place.
It is late, we eat our
boil-in-the-bags in the dark and reflect just how differently each
day works out.
I sleep better tonight.
