Life on the Ocean Wave – Again?

In 2010, we were living in France, and often made the trip back and forth between our home there and England courtesy of the cross-channel ferry from Boulogne to Dover. One April, in 2010, we had a Bad Experience. This week, we’re off to Spain, by the same route (well, Dunkerque rather than Boulogne). And the forecast is beyond awful. By the time we arrive in Dover, there will have been 50 mph + winds for more than 24 hours, rising to 70 mph as we arrive. Reader, we have cancelled the ferry (but lost our money) and booked the Chunnel instead. Why don’t you sit in front of a cosy fire and read about our Bad Experience?

Life on the Ocean Wave?

We generally cross the English Channel by ferry.  Neither of us is keen on the Tunnel, and a nice breezy trip on a boat always seems a cheery, day-out-by-the-seaside way of travelling between England and France.

Not that Dover’s much fun.  Despite having some elegant and interesting buildings, Dover always seems a dingy, down at heel and down-on-its-luck sort of place. And this time, it looked as if we’d have longer than usual time to kill there, because LD lines sent a late text saying our ferry would have to leave at 1.30 p.m., not midday, and we’d arrived in town just before 10.00.

Why not go down to the port, then, and see if the ship before had been delayed, and whether it could perhaps squeeze us in?  Down at the booking office, the news was that because of atrocious weather, the 6.30 a.m. sailing still hadn’t been able to leave.  But it was loading, but if we hurried, we could go too.

We hurried.  We caught the ferry.  We regretted it.  Even behind the harbour walls, the ship was pitching and tossing.  As we started our voyage, the well-named tug DHB Doughty struggled to keep us on some kind of suitable path between the harbour walls.  Out among the waves and spray of the open sea, the ship immediately started to lunge, roll, and sway, and kept up this uneasy surging throughout the trip.

I’ve always been a rotten sailor, but told myself firmly that this time it would be different: it was just a case of mind over matter.  Less than 10 minutes later I was sick for the first time.

Nearly an hour and a half into our hour and a half journey, the French coast was nowhere near.  Then the captain announced that some cargo had come adrift, and we’d have to stop till it was sorted out.  Half an hour passed.  Then yet again it was Our Captain Speaking.  There was, he said, a Force 10 gale going on.  He didn’t propose to risk getting into the harbour in Boulogne in these conditions.  We’d just have to sit it out.  I went green.  I went yellow.  I went glassy eyed. I used up several sick bags.  So did half the passengers.  The other half (including Malcolm) only had boredom and ailing partners to contend with, but they weren’t having a lot of fun either.  Malcolm struggled off to find water for me, and found broken crockery all over the cafeteria, books and souvenirs strewn over the shop floor, and the toilets awash.  He lurched back empty handed, though stewards came round with water and sympathy later on.

And we sat, hunched miserably in our seats, until finally, the captain reckoned there was a slight change in the weather. At last the French tug Obstiné brought us into port .  Those tugs with those inspired names were the cheeriest things about the whole journey.

The photos show the sea hitting the harbour in Boulogne.  That’s the sea as it lost power and hit the coast, not the raging sea we’d been putting up with in what felt like mid ocean.  For six long hours.

Next time there’s a storm, I ain’t sailing.  I’ll just sit it out on dry land.

Thanks everyone for commenting about the Featured Photo debacle. It looks as if the problem may lie with our phone settings (particularly for Android users), and sorting this out is currently beyond me. As reading your posts and commenting either on them, or on my own posts may be too – for the rest of the week – as we plan for and embark on our 1800 km journey in less than ideal conditions.

Nevertheless… Happy New Year!

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Author: margaret21

I'm retired and live in North Yorkshire, where I walk , write, volunteer and travel as often as I can.

38 thoughts on “Life on the Ocean Wave – Again?”

  2. I’m shuddering just thinking about it. The Channel sounds good to me. Safe travels and a very happy January when you get there. At least you know it’ll be worthwhile. We have a sunny 17C again here today. Bon Voyage!

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  3. Oh my, what a journey! A wise decision to switch to the Chunnel this time I think. Safe travels, Margaret, and a very Happy New Year. I look forward to more of your adventures and photos in 2025 😊

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  7. oh you poor thing how horrid – glad you had time to find alternative routes this time but not so great about the pennies. Safe travels, and look forward to a 2025 catch up somewhere

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  8. 1910! Are you really that old? Horrendous story though. Our worst was an overnight ferry to Denmark in the 1980s with my s-i-l and her husband. In the evening we sat drinking cocktails saying “this is the life”, then we woke up in the night pitching back and forward and clinging on to our bunk. Nevertheless, our party turned up for breakfast. I think we were the only ones. I was thrown off my seat across the room along with a pile of plates. They smashed, I didn’t, probably would now but I bounced back in those days. Hope you have a safe journey, and Happy New Year.

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    1. Aaagh! Corrected! Thanks Anabel. No, 1910 was the year my mother was born. Now, sailing to Denmark is a voyage I did enjoy – twice. Also probably in the early 80s. I’d think twice before doing such a long trip again with my lack of sea-legs. Happy New Year!

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  10. I don’t usually get seasick in averagely bumpy seas but that sounds pretty horrendous and I reckon would do for most people – I’m amazed at Malcolm’s resilience! Sounds like you’ve done the right thing in opting for the Chunnel even if it did mean losing some money. The journey will be challenging enough without having to go through that again. Travelling at this time of year is always a lottery, isn’t it? Good luck!

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  11. Oh my, that makes my recent 9.5 hour drive to Surrey seem trivial. I am an awful sailor too, one reason I haven’t been back to the Isles of Scilly on the ‘sick bucket’.

    You make a good case for flying!

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  14. Oh my! Well, you look to have been A Very Sensible Person booking the Chunnel after the horrors of that storm a few years ago!

    Thanks for the new year greetings, and wishing you the same

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