Passage: Portsmouth to Dover

 

Dover was our final port in England before our much-anticipated crossing to mainland Europe and the two big boat festivals. I had very much enjoyed our visit to nearby Ramsgate last summer so was curious to see how this town would work out. We had read that it was a much bigger commercial port, and also had a historic castle to explore. 

Screenshot of my weather app showing near hurricane-force winds to the north.

Our departure from Portsmouth was delayed by a day due to this very nasty weather system. Glad we waited, now we have blue skies and good sailing winds. This particular sail is the "velacho;" the foreward top sail. We're all given a line drawing of the ship to memorize that has the names of ship parts in English and Spanish; many of these words are far to obscure for google translate! And I can understand basic maritime commands like "make that line fast;" "turn the ship 10 degrees to starboard;" or "look out for the fishing boat there." Other than that, though, my command of the language is more basic, insufficient for the kind of conversations that help pass the time on the midnight watch. Sometimes my confusion about words can be pretty funny: "goleta" is the word for a schooner, and "galleta" is the word for a cookie. So guess who was trying to explain the beautiful vessel Adventurer, but told a shipmate that we represented a 48-foot cookie at a maritime festival in June before coming to the Galeon? 

My view of the "velacho;" from the quarterdeck. 

These channel markings don’t show numbers on them, they have names. This particular one is “Horse Elbow.” I want to know the story behind it. Also, red and green sides of the channel are reversed compared to the way they are in the US (just like driving on the left). Messes with my brain!

I see France off the starboard rail and England off the port rail, so we must be approaching Dover. Pic is Jaye being interviewed for a series about the range of ships that come into the port. Interviews when one is sleep deprived are always interesting.

Coming into Dover: view of the famous white cliffs. They really blaze in the morning sunlight.

Fire boat displaying for our welcome.

Crew members readying the "defensas" (fenders). They're huge, heavy, and effective. 

Closer view of the fire boat.

Dover Castle on the hill -- our planned destination for our first day off. We work all weekends, and it's actually kind of nice that therefore our days off tend to be weekdays where tourist attractions like this one are less crowded.

A map of smoke from Canadian wildfires, that made it all the way to England! 

Portsmouth -- The Mary Rose (Part 2 of 2)

 Henry VIII's favourite warship, the Mary Rose, sank just outside of Portsmouth Harbour about 150 years before the time period of our ship. The vessel was found, salvaged, and more recently the hull was raised and established in a museum here. The sinking was just shallow enough to be easy to retrieve, and the water was just cold enough to preserve the vessel and its artifacts extremely well. 

As has become our norm, we arranged reciprocal visiting privileges: their staff could visit our ship for free, and we could visit theirs. Of course we took advantage of that; dedicating an entire day. It was absolutely fascinating and my photos really don't do it justice. Lots more info on their website here: History of the Mary Rose. But in my conversations with the staff about their ship and ours, what really stood out to me was this: each of us appreciated the other's context. The staff at the museum there were envious of us because we actually got to walk on the decks of our ship and genuinely **feel** its scale and touch things, while we were envious of them because their items were genuinely **old** and not just replica. 

Maybe it looked a bit like this?

In a carefully climate-controlled display room, the actual 500 year old hull.

cannon

blocks

tools, shoes, other artifacts

I had never seen anything quite like this tide calculator of the era. It was used to help the pilot estimate the time of high water by taking a bearing on the moon, and is keyed to a specific port. This part of England has rather large tidal ranges so it would be very useful. It's oval shaped and in raised relief so it could be used by touch alone ... very handy on a dark night!  

A somewhat more modern -- but still quite old! -- sundial compass.

  

The bookstore attached to the museum had a huge selection of books about the period, but also t-shirts and mugs ... and this hysterical collection of "King Henry" and "Anne Boleyn" rubber ducks!

Just clowning around with Henry's statue at the gate.

Portsmouth (Part 1 of 2)

 We docked in Portsmouth at a spot that couldn't have had a more different vibe than Bristol. Both are historic cities, but instead of cobbled streets, in Portsmouth we were docked in an outlet mall! The city is one of the biggest naval centers in England, but we were in an isolated commercial bubble rather removed from the history. Oh well, we're nothing if not adaptable. There was a Musto (British sailing clothing maker) outlet there; several of our crew got themselves new foul weather gear in this port. We also went shopping on one of our days off. Already had good quality foul weather gear, but lost ourselves in a cooking store. Found some excellent quality baking pans in a "miniature" size that was perfect for our boat's oven, and not available in the US. However, one of the things that made them excellent was their thick construction. I questioned the cleverness of my purchase as I realized I would have to carry that extra weight through Europe until we got home! 

We’re docked beside this massive observation tower. It’s not often we are located next to something that makes us look small! Our main mast is 33 meters above the water surface to the top of the flagpole; the tower is 100 meters. From certain angles the swooping curl of the tower is reminiscent of a sail. 

The tower is dramatically illuminated at night.

Old meets new. The Fastnet race ended just a couple of days before we docked, and the winner, a high-tech vessel named Black Jack, was docked just off our stern. Our captain, who is a sail racing enthusiast, was delighted.

The management of the tower offered our crew free visits, which we happily took. The view from the top was expansive! Actually kind of cool that it was a stormy day the day we visited, we could see the rain a long way off. 

The tower includes a glass floor, and as it turned out we’re docked so close that the only way to see the ship is through that floor. 

  

Took me a minute before I was willing to let go of the handrail and walk out to the center of the glass. What the brain knows via science can’t always convince the hindbrain’s instincts!

Nearby is the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard, and the modern naval base. Lots of different kinds of ships, of different eras, represented here; follow the link above to learn more about them. The dark-hulled sailing vessel is the HMS Warrior, and undergoing preservation just off to the right (on land, and out of the photo) is the historic Lord Nelson's HMS Victory. Fun fact: the area was heavily bombed during WWII. Hitler gave explicit orders not to damage this vessel, however. He expected to win the war and in his arrogance ordered the Victory spared so he could accept England's surrender on its historic decks. We all know how that turned out!

Passage: Bristol to Portsmouth

Much as we enjoyed Bristol, ten days in the city was long enough. We were anxious for some more sea time, and to head south down the coast and then turn east, ultimately headed to mainland Europe for the big sail festivals. More immediately, just a couple days' sail would get us to Portsmouth.

Up early-ish to time our arrival at the lock which had to happen at high tide. Now that we’re through we’re tied up to the sea wall waiting for the tide to go down so we can fit under the next bridge. Fast, then slow, fast, then slow, hurry up and wait. Despite minor frustration I’m reminded that my “everyday life” is someone else’s “once in a lifetime.” We have four trainee/passengers aboard, who have paid to spend a few days experiencing this life—my everyday life—with us, and explaining everything to them lets me see my world through their new eyes. Farewell Bristol, it’s been fun but we’re on our way to Portsmouth. 2 hours by car and a couple of days by sea aboard El Galeon. Also, as cars drove past us people would occasionally lean out the window to take photos. I was terrified that we were about to cause a crash until I remembered that this was England, they drive on the left, and the person with the camera was the passenger, not the driver, as my US-based perceptions of the proper side of the car to drive on got turned backwards!

We made it under the first bridge with room to spare as the tidal height when we arrived was less than predicted. Now with almost 4 knots of fair current hurrying us out to sea, passing the Welsh coast.

A local drone operator got this image of us passing the far higher and better known Clifton suspension bridge. If you could zoom in to an impossible degree you'd see me and first officer Ricardo on the quarterdeck. This bridge was where we switched helmsmen -- he took the far more difficult winding and narrow inner stretch of river between here and Bristol, and I got the far mellower section from here to the sea. 

A gorgeous night (note the view here sailing toward the crescent moon) filled with stars, Milky Way, and a few shooting stars ...

... deteriorated into a bumpy wet morning with a significant portion of the crew seasick; and after we turned the corner of England at Lands End, now a tranquil afternoon headed towards Portsmouth sometime tomorrow. Also, after several hours at the helm in challenging waves rocking and rolling the ship and a few pointers from the captain, I’m now a better helmsman than I was when I woke up.

Ilfracombe was a lovely stop to rest on our post-Galeon vacation in Devon and Cornwall last summer. This year, we saw it from the ocean side!

Ilfracombe by land, summer 2024.

Bring out your best “Spanish Armada” jokes. We’re waiting for the tide beforere we enter Portsmouth harbour and here comes the Royal Navy to welcome us! (Actually, a lot of the visitors made comments about the Spanish armada, usually with amusing attitudes. I reminded them that this time "you English gave us your money quite willingly" as they all paid for tickets to visit!

Bristol (Photo Dump with Annotations)

College town, diverse and multicultural, deep water port, maritime history, big enough to be lively yet small enough to explore on foot, all added up to make this town one of our favorites. Two different festival weekends back-to-back kept us more than busy. When we docked we were literally next to an outdoor beer garden and I had hopes of popping down there after work a few days. However, the ramp to come aboard proved just too tempting for many of the patrons after a beer or two. So after the first night we resorted to hoisting the ramp up after closing, a lot like raising the drawbridge over the moat, to deter them. We crew could climb down the ladder carved into the side of the hull if we wanted to go out after work, but it required a bit of athleticism to come back especially after drinking, so we mostly didn't. Uninvited visitors climbing the hull unfortunately became a theme later during the tour.

Coming through the lock into Bristol.

Narrowboats. If I hadn’t read Michael Broihier’s novel “Idiot Wind” just recently I wouldn’t have recognized them for what they are. Caught a brief glimpse of them on the train to Penzance when we first landed in England but got a much better view here in Bristol. Now I want to rent one for a holiday. 

I think this first appeared on my timeline for a friend whose pet had died. But, it is so true in so many more contexts. On the ship we make friends intensely and quickly. But we sailors are also terribly mobile an just as quickly they’re gone. The biggest problem with being friends with adventurous people is that they’re always headed off to new adventures and you’re always saying goodbye.

Bristol Harbour Festival. We were just the right amount of busy: enough tickets to have good income but still not too crowded to be able to interact with the visitors. Here, a fire boat display. 

This was a race I couldn’t quite understand but it involved paddling some VERY strange craft.

Yes, that's the group from the previous picture, rowing their slice of toast.

A few more "things being paddled that aren't boats" from the race.

This one, to me, took the award for the weirdest: a hamster wheel of plywood-and-styrofoam boxes, propelled not by oars but by crawling. 

The crowd enjoying the race.

My Dutch friend Moni finally explained it to me: "It's a fun Amsterdam tradition; the Pieremachochel parade. Originally the word pieremachochel is old Amsterdam slang for a rowboat. These days it refers to a selfmade object used to partake in a canal parade,  during Sail. Rules are: selfmade, no motor and no keel. There is an actual competition for categories like most beautiful, funniest, most original and most unfortunate. The first pieremachochel canal parade was 50 years ago, originated by youth workers of Amsterdam noord, the area where most (building and repair) docks were back then. As you can imagine great creative fun for both the builders as well as those coming to watch the parades."

The festival also had races and parades of boats in various categories old and new, demonstrations, concerts, fireworks. Our ship was docked in a location with prime viewing for them all. Several of the concerts were so loud that I could hear them at a comfortable volume below decks in my bunk. The captain complained that the music was far louder in his cabin, up off the quarterdeck astern, facing the concert venue. (But he did so with a wink and didn't complain too loudly, as that would be beyond insensitive in a let-them-eat-cake way; he was quite aware that the rest of us didn't have private cabins at all, much less with windows and a view.)

Jet boots stunt demonstrations

A personal best! I jokingly "collect" photos of all the Jack Sparrow imitators who visit the ship; I have an album of them on my phone. But this is the record; I had four Jacks at the same time.

After standing for standing long days in a row giving tours and explaining the ship, we decided to spend our day off … walking all over Bristol! We found history, food, museums, and stories from Blackbeard to Banksy.

Cool building facade. The city is an extraordinary mix of old and newer, multicultural, delightful.

There are four of these odd bronze posts in front of the corn exchange building. I was telling some visitors the origin of popular phrases like “learning the ropes” and “pulling your weight,” both of which come from the ship. In return they told me that the phrase “cash on the nail” (meaning to pay instantly and in full) came from deals that were conducted when this was the section of town where the banks were. Auctioneers’ gavels would also strike on these tables.

A more complete view of the corn exchange building

Text on the top of one of the bronze posts. Check out the date — 1594!

Getting quite English: Dan got a new wool hat at the indoor market; then we had a lunch of cheese toasties (grilled cheese sandwiches but made with nice quality English cheddar) and rested our feet in a small cafe with a fun view.

Elaborate facade of a building. Dan believes the cherubs in the middle are pressing grapes.

The pub of Blackbeard/Treasure Island fame, built in 1664. The odd name: Llandoger is a town in Wales; Trow is a kind of small barge that carried cargo back and forth across the Bristol Channel here. Many visitors recommended this to us. Cool that it is from about the same period in history that our ship represents! (Fortunate that I heard the name multiple times, because I didn't get it on the first hearing. Or the second. Or the third.) 

This funny guy reminded me of the Annapolis chickens. Actually he and his mates scattered throughout the city were connected to a charitable campaign for donations to children's cancer research.

Dan was delighted to find this weather vane in the shape of an old boat.

It's a university town; here's one of the buildings.

Closeup of the front of the building. The dedication identifies it as the gift of Sir William Henry Wills to his fellow citizens. This is far from the only example I have of “old money” fulfilling the obligation to give back to the community. (And anyone who knew my mother Lillian heard this comment in her voice; it was something she also believed and embodied.)

We didn’t realize how steep the hill was until we started back down. Note the stairstepped rooflines leading down to the river.

The cathedral has a section devoted to mariners. Not open today; we hope to go back later in the week.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

The old pub interior

Drone view of our ship in the early morning.

Another, more regional, aerial view. The Matthew is docked to the lower right, tied to a green barge; we're in the upper center, just as the canal splits into a "Y" next to a cubical beige building. 

  

Here's another pic of the ship in the morning light, this time from ground level from across the river.

The aptly-named narrow boats.  (They’re really narrow -- look like about 2 meters/6-1/2 feet, and very individual personalities, no two alike.)

The harbour pilot who guided us in recommended this pub. At 4:30 it was empty; an hour later it was jammed!

Good food too!

One of our shipmates goofing around in the dorm. It amazes me that as we each bring a single checked suitcase plus backpack, that we have room for fun stuff (and to see what others prioritize!) (But then again, we brought a streamlined version of our pirate garb, so, all's fair.) Behind him you can see the curtains providing privacy for four of the sixteen bunks in our dorm; Dan's and mine are just outside the photo to the lower right.

Protest art from today's museum visit. Strange bedfellows? Selling your principles for power? I don't think this piece was done with today's GOP in mind but it certainly seems to me to fit.

When a legacy is … complicated. This is a statue of Edward Colston. He was a wealthy sea merchant, philanthropist and member of Parliament in the late 1600s to early 1700s. Streets and buildings were named after him and his statue was in the town centre. But the money ha donated was tainted, very tainted, as he made most of it from the slave trade. During the George Floyd protests in 2020 his statue was pulled down by protesters and dumped in the harbour. It now resides in the local museum as part of an exhibit about political activism. Both here in Bristol and our previous port in Whitehaven cities are grappling with the history of the triangle trade. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Colston

Some cities offer pub crawls. With several pubs that date back to the 1600s (the era of our ship! in actual buildings that existed then!) and our visit sandwiched between the Harbour Festival and the Cider Festival and us docked steps away (literally!!) from an outdoor beer garden, I was sure we’d be drinking our way across Bristol. But there’s an actual BOOKSTORE CRAWL a walking route to visit 20 independent bookstores in town. Okay, my famed “bars to bookstores ratio” I use to evaluate a town has officially been proven, and I have found my place.

This bridge was designed by the aptly-named engineer William Bridges. It spans the Avon River in Bristol. The name “Avon” derived from the Celtic word “afon” which means “River.” The name Bristol, as a place name, originates from Old English. It literally means "meeting place by the bridge" or "place at the bridge." This is derived from the Old English words "brycg" (bridge) and "stow" (place or meeting place). Over time, the name evolved from earlier forms like "Brycgstow" and "Bristou" So the Bridges Bridge spans the River River in the bridge place. Ain’t English wonderful?

One of the only cloudless mornings we’ve had here, and we were treated to the sight of a gathering of hot-air balloons. They sound like I imagine a mastodon in heat might sound. I later learned that there was a balloon festival in the town of Bath, quite nearby by car. But in my mind the town was part of our post tour of duty vacation last year, and quite out of range from this year's trip.