Phone charger being held hostage by the campsite owners just another thing to hold up launch. I missed the tide by half an hour which would probably have been worth an hour in the afternoon.
At Kingsdown I met a prawn fisherman just working the shore with a net and he corroborated my weather and tidal predictions.
In no time I was gazing up at the towering chalky cliffs of Dover. I called in for clearance to cross the fairway and then sprinted over. Those Stenalines can move.
The headwind picked up earlier and blew stronger than I’d expected. It would seem that headwinds will be a theme of the run home to Falmouth. I’ll try not to get too frustrated when it inevitably robs me of a day or three.
Comedy moment of the day was a fisherman flying a kids kite while waiting for a bite. Rare.
I took a bad mooded break at Folkstone as my planned 1600 arrival became 1700. Some clown threw a plum sized rock down the 3 tiered beach not realising I was there. It hit the floor then my boat and tested the pacifist in me to the limit. I revised my end of day target to Hythe.
Jess ran us to a backpackers lodge in Dover whereupon she did the culinary equivalent of turning water into wine on my jetboil. Class act start to finish.