Boulogne was an active fishing port with more bustle and less tourists than some places we had been along the coast.
Bernie was super excited about a French smelling town again, and especially one with lots of fishy smells. He started demanding a walk around the town as soon as daylight appeared. He wasn’t disappointed and pulled us up the hill to the old town in search of cafes and fallen chips. We returned in time for the nice gendarmes from Calais to visit the boat and stamp our passports.
The forecast for the second day after we arrived was originally ‘a spicy day out’, then increased to ‘you won’t need extra chilli with this’ and finally ‘this is going to spoil your whole day’. We headed out to the harbour entry channel on foot and thanked the clever weather forecasting people for telling us the best day to sail. When all the fishing boats stay in port, its a good day to stay on land.
When calm conditions returned the fishing boats on the wharf opposite us left in the middle of the night (ok, maybe dawn) and returned to sell their fish on the quay opposite us in time for our morning(ish) walk. The fish shops are a famous tourist haunt for the town and sell everything off the boats fresh.
We thought we might head to Dunkirk next, but found this little town (Gravelines) accessed by a drying canal that was reported to be super friendly but a little tricky to get to. Red flag to a bull… we were going. They can fit 15m boats and we are no more than 14.5 (ish). We snuck out of Boulogne just after lunch to ensure arrival at the canal entrance at high tide.
The coast was surprisingly rural as we approached Calais. I did an extensive rigging check from the front deck.
As we approached Calais the wind picked up to over 20 knots and the choppy waves from behind made it too rolly for sunning oneself on the foredeck. The ferries on the Calais-Dover run kept coming to say hello and look at our boat. I was later informed we were crossing a ferry lane.
We arrived at the entry channel which was distractingly narrow and had 2 knots of tide crossing it. It seemed like we were approaching at 45 degrees to the channel. I steered a course so we safely crabbed our way into the channel, with Fi watching the chart plotter and the seas closely, and shouting “more to starboard!” to ensure we wouldn’t hit the port side wall. After a few km of channel we squeezed through a lock gate and pulled up at pontoon 2 in the marina. Curiously all the other boats seemed much smaller than us.
Gravelines used to be a vibrant port on the coast, but silting led to its decline as a trading port. These days its more sedate with rotund older gentlemen snoozing on their boats in the emerging spring sunshine trying to recall the boat jobs they were doing today.
The town still has a moat and walled defenses. Fi jumped the moat in a single bound.
This is another example of the architecture of the Marquis de Vauban a French engineer, who was responsible for a number of fortifications along the coast, some of which we saw when we cruised in Brittany. He is thought to be one of the greatest engineers of his time. The town centre is shaped as a star with the moat around the outside.
Low tide at the marina gave both of us a shock when we left one morning. We could clearly see the bottom, and boats on the inside pontoons would sink into the soft mud. We remained floating, as we were placed on the outer pontoon. This boat looked like it had been settling in the mud now for a few years.
We are keen to see a little more of this coast line, and on our next trip we visit Dunkirk in France, and also plan our next country change into Belgium, leaving behind cheese and baguettes, for chocolate and beer.
Loving the bigger images on this website. Thanks for figuring that out.