Scott and I joined Jessica, Alice and Heather for a quick swim in the Dover harbour. We stayed in for about an hour, and played in the chop as the wind picked up. Mum and Dad were waiting on the beach proudly claiming any good swimmer that went by as me. They didn't look too disappointed when I finally turned up at the end of the swim. I tried all my different pairs of goggles, and they were all fine, so I can't blame anything on them.
We went up to the White Cliffs of Dover lookout, and ate, and ate some more, before the big meeting with Reg Brickell of Brickell Brothers - the Channel Piloting Experts. We finally found the "Free (Three) Mackerel" pub in the Fishmarket in Folkestone, and identified Reg quickly by his trademark vest, anchor ear-ring, and seat of honour at the end of the bar. We had a nice chat about the tides, and the Channel and the weather, and he sized us up, and reserved judgement. He said he'd know how fast I was when he saw me half-way across the Channel, and that he would change course accordingly. Reg told us that Saturday was the likely first day of the Channel season for Jessica, and that as Sunday follows Saturday, so I might follow her across the Channel.
Then Jessica and family treated us to a fine dinner in their house up on the cliffs over St. Margarets. The house turned out to be an old gun emplacement owned by Miriam Margolyes, who is an actress of some repute, who has a penchant for Dickens. We wandered along the cliffs dreaming of repelling ill-smelling invaders. And so to sleep.