Before leaving, there were a couple of small jobs to attend to: one of the trolley wheels had developed a puncture, and the pump had broken. Fixed the former, and fortunately I met a local paddler on the seafront, who contributed the necessary washer to fix the latter.
Western wynde, when wilt thou blow
The small rain down can rain?
Chryst, that my love were in my arms
And I in my bed again!
This year has been marked by a pronounced absence of what are laughingly called the prevailing winds. As I left Fleetwood in "small rain" and a gentle southerly, I wasn't actually whistling the tune, but within half an hour the vis had come down and I was avoiding an Isle of Man ferry and an erratically-manoeuvring dredger in the murk. Very shortly thereafter, the wind veered westerly and picked up to F5/6, where it stayed for the rest of the crossing of Morecambe Bay. This is another open crossing that avoids miles of shoal water, and the prospect of getting it wrong and spending the night on the mud did not appeal in the slightest.
Other vessels appeared out of the rain and spray: a fishing vessel and a yacht, heavily reefed, whose crews seemed a bit concerned to see a solo kayak out in these conditions.
Walney Island appeared, and crept past to starboard, and by the time I reached Haverigg, the sun was shining on this charming, but very shallow haven. I missed the Duddon Channel, and had to wait five minutes for the flood tide to cover a sandbank, before paddling up the narrow creek towards the village. The recovery was very difficult, up a muddy foreshore and over steps, and I subsequently discovered that there is a slipway in front of the ILB station (looks a bit like a Coastwatch lookout).
Rough landings and deciding not to cross.
4 hours ago