This summer I had promised my sister and two friends a ‘Rochester to Richmond’ style trip looking at the Medway and Thames. Of course, we wouldn’t actually have been sailing to Richmond! But, my life went into a state of flux ending with a bit of a shock. I was diagnosed with prostate cancer – see earlier blog – so the planned trip was sadly cancelled at very short notice.
Along the way a huge amount of stuff went by the board as I shuttled back and forth to my local hospital accompanied by my dear wife. I have now worked through the first wave of emotions to the news, but still have my moments of anxiety. I have begun hormone therapy which will run for around two years. The first phase of around six months leads into a second phase of ‘radio’ treatment.
Things eventually settled down towards the end of July with no appointments until early November! So, we went away on our travels. We hadn’t actually planned an ‘up the coast’ trip, apart from a later trip planned for when my ‘Canadian’ brother was due over in late August. Firstly we had a gentle potter on the Swale visiting Conyer and Faversham – gradually soothing our souls…
After leaving the eastern end of the Swale following the traditional regatta and barge match weekend, we sailed to Queenborough to be ready for our Thames foray. (See earlier blog)
Sunrise at Queenborough on the morning of departure…
The timing of the tides meant and early-ish start if we wanted to use the flood, which like the ebb is something one does not fight on the Thames above Sea Reach. It meant bacon butties for breakfast, of course, which my good Mate is a dab hand at. The wind was of an easterly nature, making life ‘easy’ and we enjoyed a simple sail up to Gravesend, picking up a Gravesend Sailing Club mooring after chatting to a member aboard his vessel.
Passing along the inner end of Sea Reach, the area of land ‘let back’ to the sea looked as intended, a vast mud flat. This was a mitigation exercise paid for by the massive port complex on the old Shell site further upstream and across the river. (See: Rochester to Richmond.) The old sea wall bases have been largely left intact, possibly to act as a silt trap to encourage mud build up. It is likely that part of the area will eventually begin to build as a salt marsh. As has been found on the River Medway, even after nearly 100 years the re-flooded islands in that river have not yet reached a full ‘natural’ state. I wonder how many yachting folk look at these changes and ponder…
Later, during the afternoon, the Mate fell asleep! But, during that time a chap (Keith?) ranged alongside in his tender. He was away for a few days afloat, alone, and he wanted to have a natter about, boats, books and this web site. Always nice to receive some appreciation verbally. Anyway, we chatted awhile. The chap hadn’t wanted to come aboard and disturb the Mate … I hope his sailing has continued to be enjoyable.
We had hoped to go ashore to visit the club in the evening, but all was dark and quiet, it was a weekday…
Departing from Gravesend.
After an unusually quiet night on the river here we set off for the relatively short trip to Erith. The radio crackled with ship movements and as we were in a wind shadow passing the old Jetty, hanging off Tilbury Ness, our diesel was pressed into service for a few minutes until clear of the wide open lock, into which a ship was about to enter… We weren’t spoken to, but we heard a mention! It was a pleasant quiet sail, almost a drift with the fast flowing tide, but this left us, well me mainly, bags of time to feast upon the shore-line views. I must add though, my Mate is always attentive within the Medway and Thames: they offer so much to see.
Nearing the top end of Long Reach the Mate was below making some coffee, so I began to slip across the stream and entered Dartford Creek. My plan was to go up to the Crayford confluence before turning and heading out. Approaching the barrier we heard bells ringing. The lights weren’t on, nor could we see any visible signs of human life. Not wanting to become ‘trapped’ we turned about and puttered out with some mechanical assistance. I grinned at my crew and said, ‘…another time…’ as we made our way round Crayford Ness, stowing sail for the wind died!
Dartford Creek Barrier…
Speaking to a Erith YC member and mooring to a vacant buoy. As I coiled and hung the main sheet, watching as our ‘friend’ headed for the shore after completing his task, whatever it was, I was brought up short: upstream a tier of two large dumb barges seemed to be exceedingly close to the yacht moorings. To my amazement I then realised that the barges were adrift, carrying with them their mooring buoy. They were drifting quite slowly.
I immediately called VTS on channel 14, nil response, I tried again, and again there was nil response. I would have thought the brevity in my voice would have done something! I gave up and called on channel 68 (Gravesend). They responded. I passed the news, stating that the barges were ‘in’ the moorings. Initially I was asked if I was mistaken and if the barges had just swung on the tide. I’m familiar with this section of the river … the barge moorings are normally at least a quarter of a mile away … I repeated, adding that a yacht was being pushed aside. This time notice was taken…
Initially the Mate was below clearing up after our passage, but I called her on deck to stand-by to let go. We watched… As the barges swung on the tide we appeared to be next in line. The chap we’d spoken to earlier had come back out calling people up on his phone. I passed the info that VTS were appraised … and he motored around watching his own vessel! We dropped off and I appraised VTS on channel 14 (I gave two situation reports until they said they had ‘them’ on camera and a tug was on its way).
I filmed the episode … I sent a copy to the Erith club’s secretary – a costly business: it used up my laptop ‘telephone’ stick, something we hadn’t expected. We had to buy lots more to get back on line!
Two ‘GPS’ dumb barges in the Erith YC moorings…
Ultimately, the barges ‘stopped’, resting against a mooring buoy which threatened to go under the barge hulls, whilst ‘forward’ the buoy and barges bows nestled into a rather nice looking yacht! Everything ‘hung’…
A tug appeared and ‘rammed’ alongside the outer barge. The momentum set off the drift again… The nestled yacht’s fore stay banana-ed. I thought the rig was going to give. Tug lines were thrown, dropped and re-thrown … and suddenly the barges began to move away, against the ebb. Many people collectively breathed a sigh of relief!
Then the RNLI turned up as we were re-mooring … asking if we were alright!
I think the barges came to a stop because the ground chain of the buoys mooring was dragged up the slope of the river bed sufficiently to take way off. This would have been temporary: soon after the ebb sets in here the flows become rather rapid – who knows what could have happened. My thoughts lay with ‘the coming night’ we would have bee asleep and oblivious…
After the excitement, we went ashore and borrowed a trailer to move the dinghy off the slip – usual procedure here. A lady who had rushed down to go out to her boat gave us a lift into Erith, which was very nice. The rear Commodore also lent us his security gate fob to get back in – he said, ‘I won’t need it till four … the wife won’t let me back in…’! We assured him we would be back by around two! Nice friendly people.
We bought some bits ‘n’ bobs, had coffee and did our own tourist trail, visiting the town, promenade and the fabulous brick towered Christ Church standing above the London-Kent rail line.
The inside of Erith’s C of E church (Christ Church) which is brick built.
The William Cory Promenade and hard where a Pilgrim Ferry once ran to Rainham – probably shingle then!
The Erith YC was once based at the vacated site of the Royal Corinthian Club which had decamped to The Isle of Grain at Port Victoria. Its club-house sat opposite the entrance to Stangate Creek. A base was also soon established at Burnham and too, later, ‘down south’ at Cowes… The exact spot is between the promenade and a large Morrisons Food Store located downstream on the waterfront. The hard makes a useful landing for stores … a dinghy would need tending though!
I loved these old dinghies at the Erith YC. They are Hamble Stars … see the club’s web site for details.
Again, we departed early – before breakfast even. It was a little dismal and over-cast at first, but soon cleared for another fine day – one of many enjoyed during this year’s wonderful summer (down in the ‘south-eastern’ quarter any way…). We’d soon rounded Jenningtree Pt and Cross Ness, tacking on long and short boards beneath an increasingly blue sky and hot sun. Entering Barking Reach, ‘London’ opens up before ones eyes in a spectacular fashion with the ‘Isle of Dogs display’. The sun shone on this new part of the ‘city’ peopled by thousands of banking employees. The futuristic buildings belonging to the waste treatment concerns stood in splendour before Cross Ness, as a prelude, dealing with much of London’s waste. I like those buildings for they marry functionality with ascetics.
Approaching Barking Creek, the Mate turned to me and said, ‘We going in…?’ I laughed not feeling it a serious question, but the tide was at the right level!
The Isle of Dogs modern ‘city’ stands proudly far beyond Barking Reach…
With the sluicing tide, we made excellent progress and were soon sailing out of Gallions Reach, round the point into Woolwich Reach. The modern flats of Thamesmead had been away to the south for a little while, devoid of ‘life’ except for a trail of ‘bouncing bunnies’ (joggers) making use of the riverside pathway. Modern Woolwich was met and passed too. And on Barking Marsh flats were rising in a mass. The same was seen below Barking Creek too, where a new ‘town’ was in build. London’s housing needs must be met and these developments sit smack in the middle of the ‘Prescott’ principle of using disused industrial land (brown field sites) for such projects. The lower Barking lot is around the old power station and the upstream lot on what was a huge gas works – grazing marsh before that, when still part of Kent!
On the radio the Mate listened to some chatter about ‘the red sailed boat tacking up river towards the barrier…’ – that was us. Shortly after that, we’d shed sail and begun to motor towards our allotted span to pass through. We’d soon moored on the inside at the Greenwich Yacht Club.
I have always, apart from once, emailed the yacht club if we’ve wanted to berth, I have to say, however, not a single response has been received! But, we seemed to be expected… While I dealt with formalities – payment and entry fob – my Mate got our bacon under the grill. It was barely 0900!
A piece of beach art by the Greenwich YC
Later, we’d found our way to a bus stand after a coffee, before popping into Greenwich proper. On the way back we searched out a fragment of ‘old’ amongst all that is now new on the Greenwich peninsular. A little row of properties in Ceylon Place still exists along with a pub. The pub was once the preserve of steel workers, engine makers and shipbuilders amongst others and its lane led down to where a barge yard sat in Bugsby’s Hole – roughly at the upper end of the yacht club’s moorings…
Ceylon place – 1801 – a delightful row of houses and a pub.
London’s changing skyline at sunset…
The next morning we set sail in light conditions – too light to sail properly and eventually, going down Blackwall Reach, the engine was fired up and I stowed sail. A light drizzle had set in too, even though it was hot!
Calling up Limehouse the Mate was asked if we’d booked! ‘Yes…’ she said. We were told to standby and potter up and down. This went on for around an hour whilst they summoned up sufficient staff to deal with the bridge and locks … we had our booking confirmed (nice!) but ‘it’ hadn’t been transmitted to the ‘lock diary’ … word of warning. It is best, apparently, to call up the lock/habour office on the telephone and give an arrival time, rather than more vague information…
Chandlers at Putney…
Whilst in Limehouse we enjoyed a walk from Putney to Chiswick Bridge enjoying the old water-side towns en-route. We saw lots of rowers … old wharves with rail lines still in place and defunct brewaries. We had an afternoon at the Theatre ‘with Noel Coward’, a delightful ‘supper’ at The Savoy Grill (a present from my Mate as part of our ruby anniversary… x). We completed a walk previously started, working our way around the ‘Temples’ and the old fleet street paper areas. We also came across two exhibitions about London Life – one was a display in St Paul’s Yard, which was very good. The other was up in Clerkenwell at The City of London Archives – another good display.
Putney rowers…
Barge wharves at Mortlake – crane rails still in place still
A picture of a picture at the archives exhibition we visited. The barge is the Spencer (ex Kent) Registered in London, but built as a few were in Sweden (Engleskavaret) in 1900. She was an Everard barge from 1906 and was broken up at Greenhithe in December 1924. Probably she’d been damaged… (Info – Sailing Barge Compendium – Society for Sailing Barge Research)
Whimbrel’s rudder makes a resting place for a hen coot in Limehouse Basin…
We saw family members too, enjoying a supper at The Grapes, but all too soon, it seemed, it was time to leave … departing for Greenhithe.
A little bit of riverside industry to do with vessel maintenance in Greenwich. The big ex Everard, Will was in dock.
At Greenhithe we went ashore for a walk along the ‘village’ High Street, savouring the quaintness and quiet that abounds. Some fresh stores were obtained too – enough to get us home. We hadn’t shopped in Limehouse as they would have needed to be got the day before we departed … we left at 0800!
Off Greenhithe
Leaving Greenhithe we were intending to sail for Upnor! But, the forecast was updated with lots of heavy downpours for Kent/Essex and strong winds. We stopped for a ‘lazy’ day reading, cocooned in the cabin! But, in the evening all was well and out came the Gravesend Rowing Club with 4-oar skiffs and sculls, doubles, 4’s and an eight were seen…
Two pictures from Gravesend…
Our last sunset on the Thames…
Our last Thames morning was delightful. The previous day’s front had cleared away elsewhere … we’d had little in the way of ‘ripples’ for weeks it seemed and knew our garden would have enjoyed the rain! In a westerly we ran away from Gravesend, reached down Lower Hope before enjoying a long run down to the Jenkin Swatch, crossed the grain shallows and sailed onto a buoy in Queenborough…
Beware the big ones … the wash is ferocious…
And, into the friendly Medway…
Our last supper aboard before heading home…
Our cruise was done – we needed to be home for various appointments (non-health). We’d had a grand time, one of the best…