On Saturday 2 July the crew finally let slip the lines, stowed my fenders and we pottered across the notorious Chichester Bar without incident, turning West towards Portsmouth. I wasn’t very aware of the Second Mate on deck for most of this first passage; between you and me I think she was carefully studying the interior of the guest cabin. It was a fast and busy sail into Royal Clarence Marina in Gosport, a place I’d come to think of as home over the last eighteen months, but not being my own berth, as I was now only a visitor, Skipper found it a little tricky to tuck me in, just grazing the sandbank near the entrance channel, and I found myself right up against the walkway to land – a little more public than I’m used to, but after all I did have a clean bottom to show off.
The Mates took the opportunity to stretch their legs and restock the fridge (about the only storage with any space left) at Waitrose – how civilised.