Passage to Cherbourg
It is time for some reflections from the crew (Lisa takes the honor, Simba is a bit grumpy as the ham is used up) as we are passing through the Bay of the Seine from Honfleur to Cherbourg. It is big milestone for us: first long(er) passage of 70 miles (+ 17hrs) arriving at a new harbour at night and arriving at one of the major capes in France, a door to Brittany and the South beyond. All of this, while we are not even a full month gone sailing … it starts to feel longer though and time starts to slow down for us. Or does it really?
We timed the passage to Cherbourg on the last nice day before a bad weather front will pass through the coming days. Thus, we all felt that we want to reach our milestone before having to sit out some weather. A milestone is important. We had to make it. So much for slowing down…
We plan passages up to the minute the tide and tidal current may change, we define theoretical waypoints along the way and we take bets against the computer who might do the better planning in the end. Now we check and control when we are effectually arriving at each waypoint and how much „off“ we are trending against our estimated time of arrival. Obviously, the time is to beat – we must accelerate. We must beat the tidal current changing again, we must arrive before the first front with nasty wind gusts arrives, we must make our milestone, we must …
Interestingly, it is exactly this paradox of our joined ambition of slowing our lives and our own minds down versus our constant need at the moment for control over every little detail at sea.
It leaves us both itchy on our seats, while ROCI glides along over very calm waters. We keep checking, we keep tracking, will we make it on time? We have to beat the tidal stream that can take hold of you with force and almost make you stop completely or worse, go backwards … we must make it.
Well, currently, we are “dobbering” along with very little speed due to the current being against us (yes that was obviously planned and calculated in and unavoidable when a passage lasts longer than 6 hours). We are asking us, how people deal with this mindset when sailing non-stop for much longer distances than we are… one cannot seriously have the ambition to plan each waypoint arrival to the minute, when dealing with the actual ocean, at some point, distances become too long and maybe, at some point, one might actually give up some need for control and slow down.
Needless to say, we arrived exactly according to our time planning in Cherbourg. We felt however exhausted, physically and mentally. Slowing down is difficult.
Weathering the gnarly winds and grey days
It is not necessarily cold these days, but a constant breeze keeps us locked and safely moored in Cherbourg, and the best part about it: we like it. No planning or anxiously checking for the winds, but calm resting days lie ahead. We know that our departure is probably envisioned for Friday, and I am writing these lines on Tuesday, while having arrived already on Saturday morning (1 am).
This gives us a good feeling, and an even better chance to build our boat life routine. We have had a lovely dinner, Lisa found a small yoga studio, and we visited the largest nuclear submarine the French have built (in the 1960s) and which is now a museum.
Cherbourg has a distinct location, and here you realise for the first time sailing is for the French, what skiing is for Austrians: national proud and identity. The amount of yacht shops, racing teams small and large is astonishing, and this is said to increase when coming to Brest, Lorient or La Rochelle.
We also learned that the British are fearless when it comes to crossing the channel! Maybe because it’s the only way off their (beloved) island? Joking aside, they sail in impressively rugged conditions across one of the busiest shipping routes. That’s at least what we have observed in the last couple of days when departing and arriving boats were crossing in what is said to be 40kn of wind (in gusts). We are already scared when these gusts rattle the boat in the marina making squeaky sounds stemming from rigging and hull.
Today, we visited the former transatlantic (railway) station turned museum. I am saying railway station because it pretty much looks like one, but has been built as a shipping terminal for European-American lines at the end of the 19th century. Even the Titanic moored here, just 2 days before hitting the infamous iceberg.
When you look at Cherbourg from the top, you can imagine why Napoleon is believed to have said: J’avais résolu de renouveler à Cherbourg les merveilles de l’Égypte. He had ambitions plans for expanding the ports of the city, just like the monumental expansions which he drove forward in Egypt. This still can be seen today, though much of the port terrain is dormant, and seems too vast for what Cherbourg needs today.
In the coming days, we will further relax, go to one more yoga class at Anne-Sophie’s, finish some smaller boat jobs, and then eventually leave to Brittany (Bretagne).
Ship Ahoy!
