The research for titles of cruising literature, of the Thames Estuary in particular, is the motto for today. The first place to visit in order to peruse this endeavour is of course Greenwich, which I will visit by train and on foot - having turned in early last night it is an early rise today, leaving Chatham station on a commuter train in the early morning rush hour.

The fast train to Rochester and then a quick walk bring me back to Chatham and the boat, but only after I did my shopping - today with enough time before the stores close at six. After a brief consideration I leave the key and my £20 harbour dues in the letter box, start the engine, cast off the lines and manoeuvre the boat off the pontoon. And then it happens: the tide and a little breeze push Betty upstream and before I have made enough distance to the quay, she is pressed against the yacht behind. I have a number of fenders out and almost manage to push her off, but the boats touch briefly, the paintwork of the yacht gets scratched... an instant later she is off and I am at the helm and manage to reach free water. As often in cases like this, I do not know how to best proceed. I should turn around, make fast again and try to get in touch with the owner. But then again, as the situation is, this manoeuvre can lead to even greater damage and the scratch is probably very small... Today I keep moving on and enjoy the warmth of the late afternoon, motoring down river along the many boats lying peacefully at their moorings on the Medway.
About an hour later, trusting the 'Geonav' navigation and my depth sounder, I take a short cut over the Yantlet Spit and later the Ham Ooze to Sharfleet Creek and then Stangate Creek, which cuts the time by maybe half an hour and is not really necessary in this gorgeous sunset but risk-free fun at now almost high water. Very slowly and carefully I make my way up Twinney Creek with the last rays of the sun and into the eastern twilight, getting dark fast. With a foot of water left under the keel I stop the engine and let go of the anchor, which touches the ground in seconds and pulling back under engine I let the anchor bite, switch it off and now everything is peacefully quiet. I can make out the twinkling lights of a little landing towards the east, but here I am completely alone with my thoughts and the ship.