Rye at low water and meeting the people from the RNLI

In a previous post PicoMicroYacht rounded Dungeness. This is the account of the end of my voyage and arriving at Rye Harbour at low tide.

As the sun was setting, I could just see the tripod that marked the entrance.

On arrival my impression was that I would have had to wait another two hours for clear water. But I was impatient to get in and I found a channel with depth of about 0.3 metre leading up the harbour entrance.

I was then confronted with a shingle bank blocking my way. Water was slopping over this bank in places, coming from the main channel in the harbour.

Rather gingerly I tested the firmness of the bank. I realised I could haul PicoMicroYacht across using my ‘bridle’ method, the weight of my body levering PicoMicroYacht forwards.

Just inside the harbour beyond the shingle bank

I was then able to row 1000 metres up the channel to the Rye Harbour Village. 

With a little distance to the slipway, the channel depth reduced to a few inches, with fast running water, making it impossible to row.

I looked up and saw a group of people on the harbour wall who were chatting amiably, having a good time. One of them asked if I needed help, but I was a bit reluctant to say yes, because it would mean them descending into the channel.

I got out of PicoMicroYacht and towed it forwards, stepping carefully over a mixture of mud and shingle until I reached the slipway. On arrival PicoMicroYacht was at a critical 0.6 metres below the slipway and stuck in the mud.

The group of people approached me again and asked if I needed help, saying ‘we are from the RNLI - We are here to help.’

I was now relieved to get help. Using a long rope to maintain social distancing we pulled PicoMicroYacht out - one large heave was all that was needed.

I was really thankful for the kindness of the RNLI group - had they been waiting for me, thinking I might be in trouble, or were they just enjoying an evening stroll?

Waiting to rescue - from the Rye RNLI website - KT Bruce

Dungeness

Dungeness is a huge shingle spit, deposited for 400 years, and reaching four miles deep. The spit encompasses exotic landscapes, with abundances of flora and fauna.

Perched at the end of the spit are two nuclear power stations, at a glance in an impossibly precarious position, but in reality protected by the continuous formation of the spit.

The challenge for PicoMicroYacht was to voyage round Dungeness, from Littlestone-on-Sea to Rye. 

I had to consider the somewhat strange tides in this area due to the fact that the watershed for the North Sea and English Channel pivots around this region.

I had also been warned that it can be quite rough off the Dungeness headland, so I chose to go in light winds and with a neap tide.

It was necessary to launch at around high tide at Littlestone-on-Sea which covers a large expanse of sand and mud, stretching out to sea for about half a mile.

Launching at this time meant stemming the tide for the first three hours of the voyage, in which PicoMicroYacht was rowed leisurely down to the Dungeness headland.

On launching I saw a very large black seal.

I passed a crowded beach.

Further down, people were riding horses and bathing them in the sea.

Fishing boats were pulled up on the shore.

The most recent Dungeness lighthouse, built in 1960, looks rather thin.

Rounding the tip of Dungeness, I could now see clearly the power stations..

I then spotted a commotion in the sea, which turned out to be the outfall from one of the power stations. My chart states as follow: 'Water from these outfalls causes turbulence which may be hazardous to small craft. Give the area a wide berth.' But it was very calm and I went inside, hugging close to the beach.

I dug in for a nine-mile row to Rye, taking about three hours, the houses at Camber Sands appearing just before.

When I arrived at Rye it was low tide and a further challenge was to get in the harbour, the subject of my next post.