As an island nation, Britain has always valued and encouraged recreational sailing as a part of its “national resilience”. It isn’t hard to see why. Apart from the obvious seamanship skills, like map reading and navigation, sailors typically become competent in a range of auxiliary skills, like radio operation, first aid, survival, fire fighting and basic skills in mechanics and engineering – all useful talents to draw on in times of war or natural disaster.
With the encouragement and mentorship of my father-in-law, the skipper of Hadedah, David Houston, I too developed an interest in sailing and a desire to improve my skills. With this in mind, in 2018 I found myself doing a Day Skipper course at which my husband Christopher and I met and befriended a course-mate who was in the process of restoring a vintage craft he intended to sail to Dunkirk for the 2020 80th anniversary of that historic event which I do not need to recount to anyone in a sailing club. Suffice it to say, it was recreational sailing’s finest hour (or nine days, as it turned out). To this day, it stands as a testimony to both the resilience of the nation and the strategic importance of civilian sailing clubs.
Our new friend, Alain Lamens, had bought the rotting hulk of a Dunkirk Little Ship called ‘Breda’, a 1931 vintage motor cruiser and had had it beautifully restored by Dennett’s Boat Yard on the Thames. Breda had made the crossing to rescue troops several times in May/June 1940 and the plan was to join a convoy of other surviving Little Ships to recreate that passage in 2020.
For obvious reasons (cough, cough) the 2020 event did not take place and it was postponed to 2025, the 85th anniversary. In the intervening time however, there were a few opportunities to mark Dunkirk anniversaries on a smaller scale and to attend the Classic Boat Show in Oostende up the coast in Belgium. When Alain needed help sailing Breda across the channel, he invited us to join him, and that is how Chris and I found ourselves ‘veteran crew’ of Breda when she crossed in 2025 as part of a convoy of over a hundred historic Little Ships, and shadow flotilla of more modern civilian craft and a Royal Navy escort.
Each little ship was allocated a pair of uniformed Sea Cadets from HMS Collingwood to add to the occasion, and Breda’s 50 foot length saw it assigned a film crew from ITV Meridian News who documented the crossing. The escort, along with the pairing of cadets and civilian craft really underscores the relationship I expressed in the introduction to this piece.
The Little Ships spent the weekend in Ramsgate before setting off, and participated in a local festival there, complete with marching bands, exhibitions, and – to crown it all – a special oratorio for small orchestra and choir performed quayside to mark Operation Dynamo in which the bells and horns of the Little Ships were written into the climax. The conductor was aided by semaphore signals to provide cues to the ship’s skippers standing by to make a joyful noise.
Moments like these make one proud to be British. It is also heart-warming to be reminded how much the community in Ramsgate value the priceless contribution to the war effort of their forebears. If that left one choking back tears, then one would be unprepared for Dunkirk itself. After all this time it is still a huge part of the town’s identity. We were greeted by pipe bands on the quayside, and a long weekend of ceremonies – including one at that famous beach itself itself, with speeches by local and national dignitaries. I couldn’t understand a word, but the emotion behind those shaking words is an international language.
The Dunkirk Return weekend ended with more marching bands and street parades of actors in 1940s period costume watched by Prince Michael of Kent, the Honorary Admiral of the Association of Dunkirk Little Ships (ADLS) who arrived in a vintage officer’s staff car.
Bad weather forced us to remain an extra week in Dunkirk, but we used the time to get to know the town better. It still bears the scars of the war. A church in Jean Bart Place is still pock-marked by bullet holes at chest height, testimony of the gruesome purpose to which its walls were put by the Nazi occupiers.
It has been several generations since the civilian fleet of British sailors has had to answer the call of King and Country, and that is why it felt so humbling and moving to play a small part in an event that ensures that for another generation, we don’t forget.
First published in the Summer 2025 Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve Yacht Club Newsletter.