A strong westerly wind blew the rising tide back down the river. It was not going to reach its predicted height at Thames Upper and so we left early (there is a shallow patch we needed to pass off Greenwich). We came off our mid-river moorings and turned to face the fantasia-lit bridge. From the rivers edge; yells, whoops and ‘we love you Greenpeace’. I gave one very long blast on the horn and we passed, outward-bound, between the towers of Tower Bridge. Our thirty guests disembarked soon after (whilst underway) followed by the pilot at Gravesend Reach. Fernando and I were left in the darkened bridge to navigate the Thames at night. “It is so much easier doing this together,” I remarked, as we talked our thoughts and observations out aloud.
“I see the green, flashing two every ten, on the starboard bow,” Fernando said.
“We’re setting to port; I’m putting another five degrees on to starboard.” And so we progressed all the way down to reach Yantlet small-craft anchorage in the early hours of Friday morning. The boat snapped around on the ebb tide when Fernando let go the starboard anchor. Then she settled to face upriver, to wait out the night in anticipation of another big River Thames day.
