Wednesday 13 July
Leaving Brighton at last, Skipper got me to execute a perfect ‘bump and run’ so Mate could return the Marina’s security key fobs to a member of staff by handing them over on the end of the new boat hook. I didn’t even touch the pontoon. Oh it feels good to stretch my legs and feel the sea tickling my sides again. Up the sails went in the sunshine, and on along the coastline we cruised, clouds making shadows on the white cliffs in an ever-changing dance of dazzling white and soft grey. I counted past each of the Seven Sisters and 
there was the red and white stripe of the Beachy Head lighthouse; another landmark ticked off. Dolphins waved a quick hello on their way past. As the wind started to play games with us the crew started looking for somewhere to rest overnight, and eventually dropped my anchor in what looked a promising spot in Rye Bay, just in the shelter of some cliffs. Unfortunately for them it was also in the main path of the incoming swell, so it was a bit of a rolly sleep, punctuated by one cupboard after another shaking its contents around until padding was wedged in and relative peace restored.