When I announced my plans for the summer, I wrote that it was about time to exchange my conversations with the squirrels for conversations with the seals. For the life of me, I didn’t expect that to happen within the first hours of the trip, but that is exactly what happened.

I woke up excited and a bit nervous. The past couple of days Steve had been a great help getting me ready. We had packed the boat, scrutinising every item I wanted to bring. Packing a kayak is like a puzzle. Over the years, I have perfected my personal packing plan. Everything has a place where it needs to go. By keeping my things in the same spot every holiday or expedition I go on, I can pack my things relatively quickly, and even more important, I can find them quickly when I need to.

But I have never been away for such a long period, and the kind of weather I can expect in Britain means I have to pack a warm sweater as well as a shirt for when it is warm. And what happens when my stove breaks? What am I wearing when I am paddling? Do I need to bring an extra dry suit? Do I need a helmet? And which trolley am I going to use? How much food am I packing? When will be the first opportunity to shop for food again?

I have always prided myself on being quite good at packing light, but now, doing a packing test, I quickly found out I had way too much stuff. So, every item had to be scrutinised again. Shirts went back in the suitcase as well as little luxuries, my hot water bottle found a place on deck until finally everything fit.

This morning it was Tony who came to pick me up, looking amused at the enormous bag of stuff I hauled out of the house. We arrived at Shadwell where my kayak was waiting and I just started packing my kayak when a friendly squirrel came to have a look. He wandered around my kayak, then came over to me to say hi. My heart skipped. What a lovely surprise! It felt like this little buddy was saying goodbye for my furry little friends Ruskin park too…

Steve arrived and when I had finally packed everything, we hauled the kayak on the trolley and rolled it to the little beach by the Prospect of Whitby. As I couldn’t possibly leave in a nameless kayak, we opened a bottle of champagne for her naming ceremony. Each of us poured a bit bubbly over the kayak, named her Sundance and wished her and her captain safe travels. We shared the rest of the bottle and then it was time to go.

I radioed in to the river traffic control, London VTS. “Where are you heading?” the operator asked. For a moment, I had no idea what to say. How do you explain you have no idea what your destination is, without sounding like an idiot? Steve came to the rescue. “Just say Margate”, he whispered.

We waved and waved until we couldn’t see each other anymore. It felt strange to paddle all by myself. Even though I am very happy leading beginners on the river or even the sea, I hardly ever paddle alone. After a while I started to ease. I know this river, I have paddled it so often. I loved seeing all those familiar landmarks the Cutty Sark at Greenwich, the domed shape of the O2, the red lighthouse ship at Trinity Buoy Wharf, the silvery shimmering shapes of the storm barrier.

My aim was to reach Gravesend today, and I made good progress. I was getting used to the weight of my kayak. The tide helped me out and pushed me and by eleven am I was mere meters away from the Queen Elisabeth bridge, the bridge that marks the border of greater London. The river was wide and the bridge loomed high above me. I felt like a tiny speck on the river. Looking at the beach by the foot of the bridge a young seal caught my eye. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Mere hours after saying goodbye to a squirrel, I get to say hi to a baby seal. And on this side of the QE bridge, I am officially not even out of London yet!

Just when the tide slacks, I arrive in Gravesend. The sailing club looks deserted and the tide has taken the water away from the pontoon. The squishy mud around it makes it impossible to land. I hesitate, wondering what to do now, when I spot a man, tinkering on his sailing boat.

I paddle up, practicing a sentence I will use many times on this trip: “Hi, I am on a bit of an expedition. I started not far from Tower Bridge this morning. Do you think there is anywhere near your club where I might leave my kayak and put up my tent for the night?”

Half an hour later, when the water had risen enough for us to reach the pontoon, Graham helps me lift my kayak out of the water. I meet some lovely members of the club, get offered a bunk bed, a shower and even a key to the premises.
Thank you, Graham, John, Peter and Roy, for your amazing welcome. My trip couldn’t have started better.
Off to bed now, high tide is early tomorrow.

Distance paddled: 40 km / 25 m / 22 Nm