In his latest adventure, retired York psychiatrist and regular Press travel writer BOB ADAMS joined a yacht crew sailing from Hartlepool to Plymouth - his first proper voyage

Towards the end of march I volunteered to help crew a sailing yacht from Hartlepool to Plymouth.

Gem is a 40ft yacht, a French built Jeanneau. Her owner, Mark Johnson, wanted to return to moorings in Devon after a few years in the north.

I did my day skipper and yacht master shore-based training with the YCTC, the York Cruiser Training Club, but had never been on a long voyage.

I felt confident though as one of the crew, Stephen Upright, was a retired Royal Navy nuclear submarine captain. Altogether there was a crew of four; Mark, Stephen, Kevin and me.

Hartlepool is known as the town of the monkey-hangers. Legend has it that during the Napoleonic wars the inhabitants executed a monkey believing it to be a French spy. Unfortunately for the townsfolk this reputation proved impossible to shake off.

They now embrace it with a statue in the port and a mascot for Hartlepool United called H’Angus. There are many bars and restaurants along the harbour front that we made good use of the night before, as it was Mark’s leaving party.

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The Hartlepool Monkey. Picture: Bob Adams

We set off from Hartlepool at 7am on March 26 just as a hot spell was ending and the temperature plummeted. There was a strange milky light and the sea was like a mill pond.

As we passed Staithes we could just make out its tiny white buildings glinting through the mist.

Arriving at Whitby later that morning we ended up staying for three nights. Stephen was involved with a lifeboat pull. But then the head broke. For those not familiar with boats a head is a toilet. During the hours it took to fix it I discovered previously unknown plumbing skills.

The lifeboat pull involved a group of RNLI volunteers pulling and steering an historic two-ton lifeboat from where it had been refurbished at Coates Marine, along the harbour front to its final resting place at the lifeboat museum.

The ‘Robert and Ellen Robson’ was pulled on its original wooden carriage that weighed over three tons. This unique oar-powered lifeboat was manufactured in 1918 and last saw service in 1955.

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The 'lifeboat pull' at Whitby. Picture: Bob Adams

Because of the delay we decided to sail all the way from Whitby to Ramsgate in one go, a distance of 300 nautical miles.

This took thirty-six hours and involved shifts of two-hour watches over night. We planned the passage using an electronic chart, rather like a satnav.

It is essential at sea to be able to use paper charts as well, and to perform regular position checks in case of electrical failure. Our system had the advantage of AIS.

This stands for Automatic Identification System, where you can click on boats that appear on the chart and find out who they are, where they are heading and at what speed. This is necessary to avoid collisions, as a 40ft yacht would come off badly if hit by a 1,200ft container vessel.

On route we often came across huge ships heading in our direction, only to find that most of them were waiting at anchor to get clearance to head into Immingham (on the Humber), Felixstowe or the London Gateway.

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A container ship in the North Sea. Picture: Bob Adams

We left Whitby at high tide at 04.30am on March 29, passing through the swing bridge, out through the piers and onward to the north cardinal bell-buoy that marks the end of the reef, before turning east.

It was dark with sunrise due in two hours.

After nearly freezing on deck I realised it would be necessary to wear all the clothes I had brought for the next night.

Apart from ships the only other things to avoid were lobster-pot markers, buoys and wind farms, of which there are many in the North Sea.

For the first part of the voyage we had to use the engine as there was little wind.

Things improved overnight with a brisk and cold north-easterly and we added in the sails to increase our speed to between seven and nine knots (nautical miles per hour).

Our speed depended on the tidal flows that run up and down along this coast.

By the time we got to East Anglia our speed over ground had dropped to between three and five knots.

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The crew of The Gem. Left to right: Bob, Mark, Stephen and Kevin

Mark and I took the midnight to 2am watch.

When we went on deck you could just make out the Cromer lighthouse.

Then it was slow progress past Great Yarmouth and Lowestoft.

Something I learnt on this trip is that there are actually roundabouts out at sea. Massive ones where ships circle around before heading into or out of port.

There are also many sandbanks as the North Sea is rather shallow. That is why it is a good place for wind farms and gas-rigs.

In fact, just over 8,000 years ago, the whole area was a landmass now known as Doggerland.

Occasionally bones and flint tools are dredged to the surface, evidence of an ancient human presence.

We were all a bit tired the next morning when we crossed the outer reaches of the Thames Estuary and the peninsula between Ramsgate and Margate, known as North Foreland, came into view.

By that time we were bowling along with the tide at nine knots.

Ramsgate harbour was originally built as a harbour of refuge and that was just what we needed, as a storm was approaching.

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Ramsgate Harbour. Picture: Bob Adams

We moored up at the diesel pier and were approached by armed officers of the border force.

It was good to see that our coast is being protected in these difficult times.

Gem then ended up being moored at Ramsgate for the next three days as storm force north winds and bursts of snow and sleet raged.

I had to leave the voyage at this point as I had commitments back up north.

There was time though to explore the town, wandering around its ‘Royal’ harbour - King George IV was so impressed by Ramsgate’s hospitality that he bestowed a royal title to the harbour, the only example in the UK.

Between the harbour and the town is a magnificent wall of Victorian brickwork consisting of stepped arched terraces rising to the streets.

Just in front lies the ‘Smack Boys Home’ founded in 1881 – not related to drugs or corporal punishment, but the only purpose-built accommodation in the UK for apprentices of the fishing smacks once based in the harbour.

We were fortunate to find the Home Front Tea Room where we sampled Spam sandwiches with tea served in a proper 1940s tea service, accompanied by appropriate music. We passed on the Camp coffee.

The owners may be opening a branch in York.

With regret I left the others on the morning of Friday April 1 and ascended Jacob’s Ladder on the start of my long walk to the railway station.

Meanwhile stormy seas continued to crash over the harbour wall below.

The next day Gem continued on the next stage of her voyage to Plymouth.