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BY GINNY WARE POSTCARD from Leonie


Amfreville Lock


AFTeR LIVING ABOARD ON THe RIVeR DART FOR eIGHT yeARs, GINNy WARe AND HeR HusBAND CARL seT sAIL FOR FRANCe AND BeyOND. HeRe’s AN uPDATe ON HOW THey ARe GeTTING ON


I


t’s 1.30am and the alarm is buzzing, although we are both already awake. For eight years, my husband Carl


and I have been itching to leave Dartmouth on a long term cruise around the Mediterranean via Paris and the French waterways and today is the start of our long-awaited voyage. At last, on a clear, starry night in the middle of May, we were ready to cross the channel to our first port of call, Guernsey, in our yacht Leonie, a 35ft Arthur Robb Lion Class built in 1953. We slipped out of our home port,


away from family and friends, saying a special goodbye to Carl’s mum and dad whose ashes are buried at St Petrox Church. As we did, a shooting star arced above the river mouth,


which we took to be a good omen. Our emotions rippled with excitement and nerves. We were about to live the dream, but ahead, for 12-hours, lay the longest trip we had ever made in Leonie. It wasn’t long before a pale salmon- pink light illuminated the eastern skies, and three hours later our Devon shoreline vanished from the horizon. We breezed across the channel


- well, motored across as the winds were light and we wanted to reach Guernsey by 5pm. We easily navigated the first shipping lane, but the second was busier with a long ribbon of tankers and container ships snaking their way up the channel in a seemingly endless convoy. Our hearts raced when the oil alarm buzzed after carl cranked up


the engine, aiming for a gap between two huge vessels. This alarm has a habit of going off, seemingly for no reason as the dials do not reflect any problems. but at this moment in time, with a container looming, it was quite unnerving. We slowed down and motored behind the ship instead. After a long and at times bitterly cold crossing, peppered with lots of snacks and hot drinks, we finally sighted the low lying island of Guernsey. It was another three hours before


we arrived at St Peter Port, exhausted but happy to have reached our destination. Waking to a sun drenched morning, cold damp England felt a long way away. We motored Leonie into the inner harbour – she was the only


Paris!


River Sein 109


Honfluer


Crossing the Channel


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