Getting up early is now becoming a routine, and packing up the kayak is taking less and less time. As bothersome as a steep pebble beach as helpful it proves to be if you want your kayak back into the sea; she just slid herself down. I set off in good time and said goodbye to my beautiful beach.

I hadn’t even paddled five minutes when a seal popped its head up and brought a huge grin on my face. It felt like a good omen, the day started well.

The southerly winds hadn’t lost any power, in fact, they felt stronger than the day before. With the famous white cliffs of Dover just minutes away from my starting point, this was going to be a committed paddle. St Margaret’s bay was the only possible landing point before Dover. Before I set off I had set my VHF radio to channel 74, the operating channel for Dover port control. And good thing I did!

Just past St Margaret’s bay the wind picked up even more. The waves grew accordingly too. Not quite the 30 cm wavelets I had expected, they grew to something more like 300 cm the closer I got to the harbour. And because of the sea cliffs, the waves were really confused, coming at me from all directions.

It might sound strange, but it wasn’t scary, I really enjoyed the challenge. I felt good. This is where the experience in big waves in Anglesey and Scotland paid off. I knew I could do it, that I had been in more challenging waters than this and been ok in those too.

It took me much longer than calculated to get to the harbour wall. Port Control has a tower right by the entrance and must have been watching me for ages inching my way up to them. Just under their tower the waves were a bit calmer, which gave me a chance to call them on the radio and ask for permission to cross the port entrance to continue my journey south. They seemed bemused when they asked if I was that yellow kayak right under their tower. After a bit of bobbing around on the waves waiting for a ferry to come in I could continue my journey towards Folkestone.

By the time I reached the second entrance to the harbour, it really didn’t look like the wind was dying down, or that the waves were getting smaller. The waves were so wild I didn’t dare take my hand off the paddle to radio Port Control for permission to cross the second entrance, so I took my chances and crossed the entrance to the lee side of the harbour wall before I radioed them to ask permission to enter the harbour.

Inside the harbour the breeze was still strong, but the water was flat as a pancake. In the meantime, the wind had wiped the skies clean. The sun was bright and warm; if it wasn’t for the wind, it would have been a perfect summers’ day.
Having learned from my past good experiences with sailing clubs, I made a beeline for the little masts dotted in the distance on the beach. It turned out to be the Dover Sea Sports Centre, where James Salmon and his team gave me the warmest welcome. Thank you so much everyone at the Dover Sea Sports, it is so appreciated!

Together we checked the weather and wind forecasts. James taught me that in Dover it is the gust speed, not the wind speed, that gives the most realistic forecast. With wind building up to 30 knots at times today, and Wednesday not looking much better, it seems safer to stay in Dover until Thursday morning.

I walked up to Dover Harbour authorities to ask if I could camp by my kayak on the beach, but no luck. Apparently it would be hard to distinguish me from possible refugees. James was kind enough to keep my kayak safe in the Sea school. He also kindly offered me a hot shower, coffee, and a couple of men to carry my boat in! They did wonder how something as heavy could still stay afloat….

Thanks to Booking.com I found a little B&B for the next two nights. I am all settled now and I am looking forward to explore Dover the rest of the day. The castle up the hill is calling my name…

Big hugs to all of you.

Distance paddled: 12 km / 7 m / 6 Nm