Jean says: On Sunday night I had a strong intuitive feeling that we should leave Whitby the following evening, and sail through Tuesday night to Lowestoft, as opposed to waiting until later in the week. I woke up on Monday thinking the same thing. There was also some hard evidence to back up this idea in the form of a weather forecast. Stronger winds, mist and fog were predicted later in the week and we really didn't fancy risking a night sail along an inhospitable coastline, in poor visibility while expending vast amounts of energy dealing with gusty winds and both having to be on duty all night.
The least time for the journey would be 24 hours, and we wanted it to be as trouble free as possible with the opportunity to do sleep shifts. Wednesday was also a possibility, but the predicted mist was worrying me, and we didn't want to risk getting stuck in Whitby for a week - no offence to Whitby which is lovely, but home beckons.
We weren't able to leave until the bridge opened at seven in the evening, so I went off with Bob to have a look at the Benedictine Abbey on the hill above the town. The abbey was sited along with the ancient church, at the top of what they call the '199 steps'. I was happy to discover that I didn't have any trouble walking up them, despite the fact that my muscle mass must have reduced to nothing after ten weeks on the boat. Bob had already sprung up them like a gazelle, and was waiting at the top for me, so nothing has changed in that respect.
The Abbey is steeped in very significant religious history and had a huge influence on the forming of the Christian church. It was here that the original meeting was held in AD 664, to discuss how, rather than be fragmented and in conflict with each other, the different strands of Christianity could be
brought together as one cohesive system. The meeting was called The Synod of Whitby. It's not just all fish and chips and slot machines in Whitby you know!

View of Whitby from the top of the 199 steps.





The Captain Cook Tour on it's way out




We left Whitby harbour knowing that there was no going back, and keeping our fingers crossed that our first night sail with just the two of us would go smoothly.

Two sunsets beyond Flamborough Head as we headed South East towards the Humber estuary.







The dark hours were to be spent along a piece of coastline that we judged to be quite quiet. How wrong could we be. When I emerged at 1.00 am for my shift, we were surrounded by numerous anchored cargo ships and other large vessels making their way up and down the coast. While Bob slept, I had to change course twice because a ship was heading towards us, and several ships changed course to pass us from behind. There were lights and boats everywhere, but it all made complete sense, so there was nothing to worry about.

The sun coming up in the early hours of Tuesday morning as we approach the Humber area.







In some ways, night sailing seems more straightforward than day sailing. Everyone has specific lights so that you know exactly what they are and their position in relation to you. Big ships at anchor are required to switch all their deck lights on, and you can see exactly where they are because they're lit up like a fairground. We both felt that once we had the measure of things, there was something quite exciting and special about night sailing. Another good thing about night sailing at this time of year is that the dark doesn't last long. It was dark by 10.30 and at 3.00 in the morning, you could see the light forming on the horizon in the East. The overall best reason to night sail though is that you can have extra rations like chocolate and bacon butties, and that because it's dark and you can't see what you're eating properly, none of it counts.

Once it was light, the seas became less busy until we were near the Norfolk coastline, where we came across a huge wind farm under construction. Bob's done a video of us sailing past it, and some photos on a different page. Apparently, once a wind farm has been completed, you are allowed to sail amongst the turbines because the blades are supposed to be a lot higher than the average boat mast. I have no intention of putting this to the test, although I can imagine that it would appeal to Bob.

The early evening Norfolk coastline.




We were so glad to arrive in Lowestoft before seven in the evening, having had a manageable journey with no unexpected tricky moments. It had been a long and tiring journey, but it's easy enough to keep going when you know it's only for one day. We were never that excited at the prospect of this 24 hour trip in unknown territory, knowing that refuges were minimal, and not always safe or convenient. We were however, very keen to experience a night sail just by ourselves, and had little choice anyway. I don't think either of us would choose to do this journey again, mainly because there is little to attract us to sail any of the North East coast a second time. Any future visits will be by car! Having said that, we came away having learnt even more about various sailing conditions and decision making, and were very glad we've experienced it this once. It's all been an essential part of our challenge.
We're now looking forward to meeting up with our friends Janene and Jules this weekend, either here or a bit further down this coast.