Whilst on holiday with the Mate based in a cottage in Holt, N. Norfolk recently we came across by complete accident a lovely museum dealing with boats of the Norfolk coast.

The museum, a working boatyard as well, is based at the former artillery training ground at Stiffkey. The site has all sorts within its bounds as well as caravan and holiday parks.

See: http://www.rescuewoodenboats.com/

The old working boats of the coast are unique to the local coast with its open beaches to the south on the curve from Sherringham to Great Yarmouth/Lowestoft and the shallow creeks that riddle the saltings on the more northern facing coast, running round to Kings Lynn.

The museum has a bent for lifeboats but has film footage of craftsmen (people) at work, artefacts and a spritsail barge model even, but it was the boat shed that lit my eyes. I think we got invited to view it as we (mate on the whole) got talking to staff about our own clinker sloop…

It was a howler dank sort of day, not really conducive to pottering, but we are hardy folk!

Inside the shed we met the resident boat builder and restorer, David Hewitt. He was actually star of one of the film clips in the main display shed. Chatting, I mentioned we owned a Finesse 24. His eyebrows raised as he said, fine boats … pity about the nailed decks! Indeed…

He had worked on two 24s locally and knew of a F21 along the coast which he had also done work on.

The boat builder told us a little about an old craft in the shed – in for some conservation as she was not on the radar for much else unless funding could be magicked up…

I was a little surprised at a lack of gunnel timbers at the top of the hull planking, but that was the way she was built.

A new vessel along similar lines was under construction with her hull all planked up ready for finishing.

Note the very deep sheerstrake plank also the wide gunnel,almost like a very narrow side deck.

Her propeller shaft was in and her engine beds were being set up ready to set up a small diesel engine.

Internal and external painting was not far off.

Within the shed too were a couple of boats receiving repair attention. One, seen above, had a large number of new ribs being fitted.

Further along the coast in Wells Harbour is a pontoon where a number of craft associated with the Boat Rescue Project are berthed. During summer months excursion outings can be booked…

Explore the web site and its sister site of the Coastal Exploration Company – fascinating stuff.

If you happen along that coastline in your travels, the museum and workshops are a worthwhile stop point. There is a cafe to quench thirst and post breakfast pangs too!

The first tender to Whimbrel was a little 8′ Tepco GRP moulded dinghy. It was a great carrier with a full bilge, but sweet she wasn’t being a bit of a tub.

In time after the demise of our Mirror dinghy, the tender was refitted with a dagger board and rudder made from the Mirror’s bits. The dinghy was rigged with a simple spritsail set on a mast made from the Mirror’s gunter gaff.

It was all rather rudimentary, but it worked!

As our boy grew up he expressed a desire for his own little boat. We looked a various, but he fancied a little Barrow-boat Sailer. This came in kit form and we all had fun building it. At the time I had looked at a 9′ ply-clinker dinghy seen at the Colne YC – she sparked and stuck in my mind.

At some point in 1994, I decided that I would like a proper tender built to sail, row and power with an outboard. A visit to Alan Staley’s yard on a jaunt up the creek into Faversham showed what was eminently suitable.

Alan fitted out a series of clinker tender GRP shells moulded by a friend. Alan kindly drove us over to his own boat’s moorings in Oare Creek to view a completed 9-footer., which he’d had for a few years.

So, that was that.

In the early autumn of 1994 I was posted to a shore based job for a two year stint (It became nearly five after being appointed to a project) and the order was placed before the days in September had travelled far.

I was based at my company’s ship refitting headquarters then located in Bath, travelling down for the week with weekends at home. The dinghy was collected from Faversham by car on a Saturday. I remember it being strapped down on a set of oars lashed to a roof rack, all tied trough the rear door window openings and to ‘bumpers’ front and back!

She arrived home safely…

The dinghy, without my knowledge, had been named Twitch by Christobel – don’t ask! The name has stuck: it is carved on a name plate inside the dinghy.

It was a late tide that particular weekend – no matter. She was rigged up to await her wetting. It was essentially dark by the time the tide made enough to get her in.

The dinghy is lugsail rigged with an un-stayed mast. She has a lift of rudder and a simple dagger board. Simplicity in itself. The same sail has seen her through too. It receives the occasional wash at home, other than that it is always on the spars, ready to hoist.

The dinghy has proved to be versatile. She is a little tender with minimal flat bilge but has great stability with four adults aboard when being rowed or propelled by the outboard engine.

With one aboard, she is an absolute joy to sail. Tacks easily and is very forgiving.

The one early lesson I learnt was to stow the mast on anything of a coastal passage. The tall mast makes her unstable in a sea. On one occasion the boat has slid down the side of a roller and capsized. Our boy was aboard once on a short passage (in a breeze) from Suffolk Yacht Harbour to Walton. Rollers were met outside Harwich Harbour. Yes. The dinghy capsized: I’d taken a risk!

Virtually all who have sailed aboard Whimbrel have enjoyed little jaunts around the harbours and creeks visited. They include, Theresa, Andrew (& Claire), Graham, Paul, Hannah and Christobel (rowing only).

I have appended a few pictures for posterity.

At the end of each season the dinghy is given ‘the once over’ to tidy up and repair varnish work. Every now and then the spars and oars get the home treatment.

Last year during the autumn, Twitch received a big refit.

See: https://nickardley.com/ditch-crawler-gets-autumn-into-his-head/

Many years ago, not so long after we purchased her, I fitted a stainless steel runner on the underside of the keel for concrete slipways and hard ground were taking their toll, chipping and wearing away the grp fell coat. It was a good move as it has surely lengthened the girl’s life.

Around fifteen years ago the hull was hard sanded and coated with a two-pot paint. These have been discontinued and current coatings are made with straight urethane paints. I’ve yet to do this.

The odd ‘disaster’ has sailed by over the years – I lost the rudder when beached on the sand bar at West Mersea – we were ashore for a BBQ. I didn’t unship the rudder! Alan Staley made up a new one after Christobel sent him the tiller…

I had to make a new tiller after the failure of the original some years ago. Other than that, little has been done.

However, stripping the sail off the spars this autumn to re-varnish them, I found several stress fractures in the sail’s gaff. Two were old with a new one sitting opposite an old which meant a repair was not available.

Alan Staley has come to my rescue and has provided a length of timber – Douglas Fir – for me to make a new one. I’d ordered a square section but he kindly made an eight-sided blank for me to finish off.

The mast was stripped to bare wood with all varnishing nearing completion as I write, the gear is almost ready to go back aboard Twitch.

Over the years, Twitch has taken me into rills that riddle the estuary’s rivers and creeks where old wharves or industries sit decaying and forgotten.

Slumbering barge remains have often been reached across shallow mud flats out of reach of land exploration. These have been recorded for soon many of these will meld into the environment and disappear.

So, bless the little ship and may she continue to serve for many more years to come!

I had taken the two part pole for booming out the Whimbrel’s headsails home for refurbishment as the ‘main’ part looked distinctly crabby.

Once dismantled I set too with a heat gun to strip the main pole of varnish. I quickly discovered the dreaded rot. The pole had to have a section cut off its outer end a few seasons back due to the very same. It had ‘collapsed’ whilst sailing with my youngest sibling as crew. At the time the wood looked good beyond the cutback.

This time it was terminal: the rot was in the middle area and along its length to outer end. It seemed to run down the centre of the original tree.

The main pole was initially made from a piece of Sitka Spruce I obtained from a long closed wood merchant in South Benfleet – they were general builders merchants but had other stuff in small quantities.

The outer pole is designed to run in housings I made from stainless steel and is secured by a pin.

I researched on line for suitable timber – it could be ordered at great expense. So, thinking that a couple of the Maldon boatyards might have some, I had a wander. Jim at Downs Road Yard had some pieces of Douglass Fir from a mast project but they were not of sufficient length, when section was good! So, onto the next yard. Scouting round the Shipways Yard by Marine Store, I spotted some suitable timber – the yard asked me to come back in a a couple of days and Adrian (manager – and boat builder/repairer) would sort me out…

Returning to the Shipways Yard, Adrian remembered me (and the mate) from a couple of visits over recent years staying at the yards visitor berth. We had a natter about ‘the Finesse’ – it transpired that he had been the man who converted F24, No.5, Mariette to gaff rig some fifteen years ago. Adrian was saddened to hear that the boat, as far as I knew, has been languishing in a rill at the Benfleet YC. Hey Ho!

Anyway, Adrian grabbed a couple of planks from a little pile of spruce planking and after ascertaining that I had neither a band saw or planer he proceeded to reduce the ‘grey’ boards of spruce to a number of battens making up a little over the finished size of the pole… Thirty quid!

I had to order up a West epoxy kit and as soon as it was delivered the battens were set up on a bench then glued and clamped.

The glued assemblage was left to cure for a couple of days before I set to and began squaring off. Our ‘boy’ who was fortunately working from his home popped over with his rudimentary but effective planer which saved some graft!

Once all the shaping with plane and then a spoke-shave was done, the pole was sanded until I was satisfied it looked and felt right.

The next job was to reassemble the housings for the outer sliding pole. Fortunately, I had been able to remove these without damaging them and a quick sand to remove old epoxy glue and they were ready.

The inner end where the mast fitting was to be fitted was given several coats of varnish prior to its final securing. That done, it was over to the varnish brush and a steady daily build up of eight coats of urethane varnish.

Once the varnishing was completed the new pole was re-leathered where the pole can come up against the forward mast stays.

The set up was originally a single pole made from the boom of Mirror dinghy 959 dating back to 1963, which I had played with for many years of childhood, as had my siblings too. The dinghy ultimately came my way and even Christobel ‘enjoyed’ a few jaunts out in it…

Within a short time, I decided that an extending booming out pole was required but did not want to go for the typical aluminium poles seen aboard cruisers. It was a kind of ‘magic moment’ when I contrived the idea of a sliding assembly in housings similar to the system in use on spritsail barges for housing and lowering of topmasts.

Oft referred to as, ‘You Play with Your Toy, I’ll steer…’ by the mate, it has worked extremely well with its adjustment ability to suit set of both the working jib and Genoa.

It was an interesting project. The laminations of the new pole are visible after varnishing and it all looks very strong: ready for the next thirty years, or so…

Now, if you had said to me eighteen months ago: ‘You’re going to sail to a new home soon…’ I’d have laughed outright. The mate would agree for she too, with reservations, was enjoying the camaraderie of the part of the Island Yacht Club we inhabited.

Weekend work party was a time to meet people and enjoy dong a myriad of maintenance and repair works.

I have wondered since how close that camaraderie actually was for the support we actually got with our prevails with the mean and bullying club hierarchy was pretty scant – no one really wanted to know. A mind set of keep heads down or I’ll be next attitude always prevails. However, that is all history now…

I wrote a post about reflecting on a ‘year of change’ on the last day of 2023.

Ditch-crawler reflects on a year of change…

The post lays out the facts behind our decision to break with a place we had loved. A place I wrote about, revered in words which will persist until the world crashes. It was sad, but necessary.

But, for me the sadness was almost fleeting as I busied myself into sorting out our new mooring and making it safe to come into a fixed fender protected pontoon.

We have now enjoyed a little over a year in our new home.

The yard has been very helpful. Yes, any services have to be paid for, but that was the case at the club. They are though a little more expensive. The mooring more so, but, as our son said, ‘you can’t take it (the money) with you dad…’ Indeed not!

The manager, Beccs, made us up a new floor board to replace one that got a stress fracture after Christobel crashed down onto it – a story to tell! I only asked if there was a piece of scrap offcut in the yard … there wasn’t a charge!

As always, I remain proactive though and if a fault is seen, I report it: staff do not always see things, and if deficiencies aren’t reported one cannot complain about them not being fixed!

At the end of February the propeller key failed as I was leaving the berth to go out. It wasn’t until clear that I fully realised as the pop rattled and knocked beneath the transom as the boat picked up speed under sail. With ideal conditions to turn back, I did, berthing under sail. Whimbrel required to be lifted out. This was achieved the day after the event. The problem was resolved the same day with a new key made by a local engineering concern – used by the yard.

See:

Ditch-crawler revels in tranquility of recent lift out…

We were out for exactly two weeks, however the charges were for a lift, wash and return at a weekend rate…

We both felt it was far to early to antifoul, but it held up well. During the summer, while sitting in Lower Halstow Dock in early August, I went over for the side for a look. It was not as bad as expected, but it needed to be scrubbed off. I set to and got to most of it apart from the middle body to port against the wall.

Coming back from an overnight sail on my own in May exemplified the friendliness of the mooring holders around us. I was early by probably ten to fifteen minutes and slid to a halt short of the berth. Going ahead, the long keel prevented boat from turning.

One of the chaps ashore called for me to toss a line … two of them then pulled as I went ahead and the bow came nicely round. They didn’t need to do that, but did, for a few minutes more the tide would have allowed…

We have often gone over to the boat and enjoyed a rural walk before completing jobs on a Saturday, also, we have gone sailing when the conditions down in Sea Reach of the Thames would have kept us ashore. The wind is not really felt until well out in the river beyond Stansgate Point, when in the northeasterly to southeasterly quarter.

With the boat moored into the face of the prevailing winds, leaving is easy and returning under sail is cool, calm and collected!

There are little differences, the Brent geese arrive a little later than down on the Thames, but they seep our way as the food sources get gobbled up and their shear numbers force a natural spreading. The terns ‘disappear’ at the same time as elsewhere, but waders, in general, are present throughout the seasons. I always look forward to the winter breeds which eventually smother the mud flats. Overwintering duck like the widgeon with their whistling call can be seen close up as they feed along the mud edges close by the boat.

Throughout the year we have a seal colony in the entrance to Lawling Creek and our regular anchorage spot when overnighting for whatever reason is almost in casting distance.

So, on reflection, it has all been rather refreshing. There are some regrets, there always are, but we have suffered from absolutely no stresses. I have gradually ‘washed’ off the hurt. Perhaps one day I shall write about it, but maybe not…

Oh, I mustn’t forget, cake. Yes, for we used to provide the work party regularly. Now, after our around six-weekly stints doing coffee morning at our church, a plate of spare cake goes to the yard. Boy do they appreciate it!

And on that note, before leaving the Thames, Medway and Swale at the end of August (2024), a cake, specially made by Christobel, was given to the helpful staff at Queenborough Harbour Trust.

Apparently, no one else has presented them with homemade cake since we left the area…

During the early summer a film was released about ‘Wind, Tide and Oar’ by a film maker and ‘ardent’ supporters of the non use of propulsive power in the boat’s belly.

The mate and I attended one of numerous showings of the film aboard the Sea-change Sailing Trust’s barge, Blue Mermaid, which had received a grant to take the film to a host of east coast ports for public screening. The ports ranged from Lowestoft to Ramsgate, the allowable trading limits of the Blue Mermaid.

The Blue Mermaid is a new spritsail barge which has gained a 110 tonne cargo carriage certificate. Unfortunately, finding such loads has proved difficult but numerous smaller cargoes gave been carried, using wind and tide alone.

Now, as many will know, the diesel under Whimbrel’s cockpit floor is used as little as possible. If a passage can be safely made under sail alone, that is way it is done. During the summer period, we covered 700 nautical miles and I purchased a mere 30 litres of fuel. We traversed the Thames to St Katharine Docks twice, sailing most of those miles. Unfortunately, there were a couple of long passage trips where the engine was called into use.

It is the same too for departures. From an anchorage and mooring buoys especially, and a marina berth too if it is feasible without causing a hazard to others. The same is true for arrivals.

During last year a meet took place between vessels and people who followed the principle of engine-less sailing. The event was based around Pin Mill with sailing at the heart. Among a group of traditional yachts and one in particular more modern, two spritsail barges took part, EDME and Blue Mermaid. The film has footage of the goings on.

The film discusses the pros and cons of engine-less sailing, but something is missing, I thought, because the basics of the process of getting under way from say a buoy/anchor wasn’t covered, neither was a Marina entry/departure – the be all mooring for many ‘normal’ sailors.

Larger craft are more likely to anchor off than a ‘family boat’ but film did cover a chap with a ‘forty-footer’ moored in Ipswich where apparently sailing is not allowed in the dock. Really: I have twice in recent times sailed towards the lock!

The film had far too much time aboard a West Country Lugger to my mind – there were some good moments, nice, but what was the film time for?

The Co-producers are a half brother and sister and I wondered as it progressed if this was ‘their’ film?

There seemed to be a lot of ‘cosy cabin talk’ about environment and achievements. The lady removed an engine from her boat, yet is filmed getting away from her Maldon berth with aid of motor boat … not really in the spirit!

Christobel wanted to ask her whether or not she would sail with a young baby aboard without back up propulsion – would she feel different?

Over the forty plus years of owning Whimbrel, the mate and I have developed well honed routines, well practiced and regularly accomplished: reliance on one’s engine with a sailing vessel is unsatisfactory seamanship.

Knowing you have learnt how to get your boat to do what you want strangles the ‘fear’ of having to carry out such manoeuvres when a need comes along, as it surely will with a mechanical device tucked away under the floorboards…

It is fun too to achieve what you want – Whimbrel tracks far better under sail or momentum than under power. A gentle touch of helm is instantly answered. Note below: she is gliding towards the mooring pontoon, speed slowing allowing time to step over, pick up the forward spring, drop it onto cleat to arrest her.

I do it alone too, using a short line onto the outer pontoon cleat. Sometimes a boat hook is called for, but no one has been hit or any damage done to ourselves.

Back to the film – cargo sail is discussed. As a retired Marine Engineer Officer, I am fully aware that the maritime world is working on ‘sail’ assist, but a general reversion to sail is not credible.

Yes, there are cargoes very suited to sail transit, but these are limited in scale. There are sail cargo operations in various areas of the world – to take on containerisation, not a very likely prospect!

I thought the film was somewhat naive in this respect, as was forcibly put by the ‘chap on sitting on my left’ – Michael Everard. Michael is a member of the British Shipping Council, and ex director/owner of Everard Shipping. (Interestingly, but outwith this post, we had a bit of a chat about ‘history’ back to the last trading matches and the destruction of the Everard vessels… I also talked about my RFA life and ships in general.)

Afterwards, talking to the ‘story teller’ at the event we attended aboard the Blue Mermaid in St Katharine Docks – we travelled up from Faversham by train – I suggested, tongue in cheek, that she read my books about the changing coast and environment: there are others like me out here who espouse similar feelings and have been at it for a long time… Not a new fad to fit the climate change warnings.

The film was worthwhile viewing and it contained food for thought. The total reliance on wind, tide and oar is a pipe dream though: as Richard Titchener of the Sea-change Sailing Trust said, even the Blue Mermaid needs a pluck by a motty boat at times, and, they and other engine-less spritsail barges use the barge’s boat with an outboard in windless conditions when the need arises…

For me, the film is far too long – forty minutes could be cut to deliver same message, I thought. I hope some radical editing takes place if it goes further.

The book: https://www.waterstones.com/book/wind-tide-and-oar/huw-wahl/artur-jaschke/9789083384122?sv1=affiliate&sv_campaign_id=626889&awc=3787_1726593924_014433b8788178fa393cc2f988760242&utm_source=626889&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_campaign=Preisvergleich

The film web site: https://www.windtideandoar.com/

The mate had expressly asked for a visit into Tollesbury – it would only be an overnighter: tomorrow will be our penultimate day.

Besides, I wanted to ‘raid’ the local butcher’s shop for a proper pork chop, cut to order!m. Our ‘last supper’ tomorrow night.

We were only moored in West Mersea, so it was not a long passage!

We left under sail and crept away down Thornfleet against the flood before crossing towards the Nass Spit. It was then a run towards Tollesbury Fleet.

Entering the Fleet in mid channel close to line of moored vessels, a ‘day fisher’ roared directly at us, the mate made a course adjustment, he kept coming. After a swing to starboard by us, he swept past at full chat – he had acres of water and depth to his starboard side. But he was a day trip fisher – an absolute buffoon!

It didn’t spoil our magic for long though as we crept along nicely with the last of the flood.

Coming to Woodrolfe Creek I spotted a couple more vessels motoring out, both slowed on approach, waved and went on.

‘Thank you..,’ we both mouthed! What a difference a bit of acceptance makes.

The creek has saltings moorings on both sides, the predominant clusters are to the west, where the HQ of Fellowship Afloat is based on an old light vessel.

I nodded as we passed the two creeks holding the rotting remains of the Saltcote Belle and Memory – spritsail barges long abandoned.

The saltings was lush with growth but I felt it won’t be long before a late summer and autumnal hue pervades for it isn’t long to the change of seasons.

Off the Lightship, our mainsail was stowed and we slowly crept on under jib: the flood was nearly done.

Little did we know that we were being watched: later the Marina manager wanted to know about boat and dinghy!

Finally, on the approach to the marina’s cill, the fickle breeze died. The water had the look of a glassy millpond. It was no good – the iron torps’l was called into action.

We berthed a few minutes past eight, in time for a quiet breakfast!

It was grand, just grand…

We were bound up the River Medway from Queenborough to Upnor. It was a calm start with just enough puff to fill main and Genoa. We crept slowly away from our buoy, gradually slanting across tide towards the shallows.

Soon after beginning to reach up Saltpan, a rapid increase in the wind strength persuaded me to change headsails: short tacking was going to be the order, with my proposed plan.

Entering Stangate Creek, a couple of tacks were needed to reach Sharfleet Creek. On the way I gazed upon two abandoned GRP boats languishing along the east bank of Tailness. One was abandoned after a grounding then sinking after firing off the saltings edge, the other is clearly a ‘break away’.

My belief is that these craft should be removed by the harbour authority before they become a hazard or begin to break up: the GRP content in sea water is something scientists are currently worried about across the world (see my post on the USA solution..).

Entering Sharfleet we got round in the natural tacks allowed by the wind.

We have not been into Sharfleet for two years and I was flabbergasted by the break up of the tounge of saltings running out south that was once part of Burntwick Island. Marsh loss has been huge judging by the remains island’s size – there were many visible tidal cuts into the soft clay.

A cruiser motored through the tide scoured channel that appeared a decade or so ago: perhaps it could become the main run of Sharfleet in time as what is left is rapidly being eaten away!

We tacked round the banana curve of the invisible western end of Sharfleet west of Slayhills Marsh using echo sounder and satnav before crossing the ‘Upchurch Saltings’ (mudflats now) into Half Acre Creek.

Upon Slayhills Marsh, a large vessel has been washed up. I know nothing about it, but will endeavour to find out! She sits at an angle of early forty-five degrees and is so far in she is very likely to be in her final berth.

The breeze was too strong to allow any saline scented wafts from the sea drenched saltings to reach us and boat speed was varying between 3.5 to 5 knots. My memory placed those senses for me though…

Way out in the main river, several largish yachts were motoring upstream (Why?) with the tide. One of these was astern of us as we later swept into the juncture of Pinup and Gillingham reaches!

It was a rapid beat southward to the Otterham Creek buoy which also marks the juncture with Bartley Creek and the South Yantlet. Our course was along the former towards Horrid Hill, on an isthmus running north out of the shore – all now a designated country park.

Passing Motney Hill first, I looked into the old dock on the end of this tail of land to the west of Otterham Creek. It’s an old brick and cement dock, still in a remarkably good condition. Motney is home to a huge sewage treatment works and it’s ping wafted over us!

As we reached up Bartlett, I gazed back at the spire of Upchurch Church, where my mother designed a millennium window. The building’s body was shrouded by trees.

Over to the north of us we were passing by the tide soaked saltings of Nor Marsh Island which once boasted a farmstead and hundreds of sheep. More GRP craft could be seen washed ashore…

A short tack was needed into Rainham Creek which runs to a boatyard at Marina’s Farm, a place used for winter layup locally. Horrid Hill was passed with its strategically placed ‘lovers’ benches shielded from each other by natural scrub.

Horrid Hill for many years was home to a cement making complex, it’s old wharves and building debris remain.

The scrub wilderness seems to suit Horrid Hill – a horrid name, for sure for it is a habitat for bird life etc.

Our inside route passage rapidly came to an end as we shot past a red buoy marking the channel across an old causeway, across the mud flats bordering the south side of Pinup Reach.

And, we left the beacon close to port for a clear reach past Hoo Ness at the western end of Hoo Island. We caught up with and overtook one of the ‘dawdling’ yachts motoring home. Another remained astern of us, not pass until we’d picked up a buoy under Upnor Castle.

Wind over tide choppiness was avoided and, yes, it was fun for sure.

It is not likely that I’ll have the opportunity to do it again for a while, or, as I wryly said to the mate, ‘if ever…’

P.S. this passage has been written about in various of my books – ‘Salt Marsh & Mud…’ is one.

It has been a very long time since we last had a night’s stop-over in Lower Halstow Dock, back to before Edith May’s days.

I’d contacted Geoffrey Gransden to clear our visit: the Edith May was away sailing up the East Ciast.

As we came abreast of the chosen mooring position astern if the TSBs Ardwina and Tollesbury, I rounded to fall back onto the wall – a touch of engine was needed, unfortunately…

After mooring, stowing sail and a coffee we were off on a gentle walk around the boundaries of L. Halstow and Upchurch. This is the land of my youth – from 1966.

We traversed the well worn path around the top of Glass Bottle Beach where rocks have been placed along the top to waylay coastal erosion – the problem is that the land is made from landfill and is ‘soft’ – easy pickings for the sea!

We passed by the stem and stern posts of the brickie barge Surrey poking above the tide. She was abandoned on the beach in late 1930s. Along from her sits the remains of Nile Wharf – used in bygone days by a farmer in the main.

Along the outside of the sea wall golden banks of samphire and it’s edible cousin glasswort, lower down closer to the mud line, grew in profusion.

On the inside of the wall immediately after leaving the old brickwork boundary is low land, wet with reeds growing thickly. This is the dammed off grad of Twinney Creek and marks the parish boundary here. Closer to Lower Halstow’s Dock than many appreciate.

The dock served a brickworks on the seaward edge of Upchurch and a myriad of tramlines interconnected, Dock, works and brick earth sites…

Across the saltings, belonging to Twinney, sits Twinney Dock. This was the home for the May Flower chosen by my parents chose after Whitewall Creek was left behind.

The family with the owners of the Henry resurrected the dock. The dock and land was bought over the heads of my parents by our joint tenants, thus we became, unknowingly the Henry’s tenant. My father ‘went ballistic’ on getting the quarterly rent demand…

Allotment style gardens were situated in a top corner above the ‘salt line’ – it is just grass now. The dock was purchased by current owner from those (that) owner and much gas been done to maintain a flush system, although cord grass threatens to choke the creek’s passage.

Apparently, a wedding venue is being established … stabling is already well bedded in.

My parents took a lease on Callows Wharf – long defunct but bits were still visible – where the barge was better able to come and go. A huge amount of work was needed, all family done, to make it ‘home’. That wharf too remains in use in amongst banks of cord grass towards the head of Milfordhope Creek.

The ordnance survey map showed a path running close to the dock access lane – we used the lane! It took us to Susan’s Lane where a short walk took us to a farm house (now not a farm house) and a row of cottages – Susan’s Cottages.

Turning into a field we were soon ‘lost’ for no way ahead seemed possible. Banks if nettle and thistle seemed to block the way until an oblique sort of passage was seen. It lead to a buried kissing gate (we had a kiss!).

After the kissing fate, the Lower Halstow road should have been easily accessible, however, barbed wire enclosures for ponies lay in front of us like a chequerboard.

We made our own way out, meeting a loud speaking (into a phone) young chap who wanted to know what we were about!

Trying to follow the path, we both said…

Barbed wire everywhere – Ah, sorry, he said, adding, I’ll fix that.

Yeh, sure you will!

We made it to the road by the old Methodist Chapel…

Up on the low hill sits Lower Halstow old village where hundreds and thousands of bricks were made, fired and sailed to London to be used in the late Victorian building boom.

On the green, and along the manicured roads within the old brick field, sits a clinkered clump of overcooked bricks.

Following the stream leading to the dock I was again wandering down memory lane…

Reaching the creek we found the tide had gone. Whimbrel was leaning nicely against the wall, so thoughtfully renovated by the parish council. Twenty years ago it was far from comfortable: posts were old spars and shuttering bits of barge planking, leeboards and rudders!

Back aboard Whimbrel I looked overboard and a weed infested sight net my eyes!

Once in the creek bed, a goodly crop of barnacles met my eyes too.

I set too, scraping and scrubbing.

The better part of Whimbrel’s starboard side was reached as well as the port side aft quarter and fore end – the Mate can do the rest another day!

After our evening meal, a glass at the Three Tubs beckoned…

Yes, it was a very pleasant interlude in our touring around. So interesting to see the changes at close hand, and too, to enjoy the rather lovely peaceful countryside around the watery edges of these two parishes…

The next morning, with just a favourable slant we sailed off the wharf and beat away from the dock…

Due to our move to a new mooring area, we did not sail into Faversham last year. Future visits are highly likely to be less frequent than we have enjoyed in the past.

So, it was with seemingly fresh eyes that we entered the creek a couple of days ago, managing to largely lazily sail up with the tide.

We were struck by the additional craft that have been abandoned on the banks with a sunken yacht just below Oare Creek. And too, by the renewed beauty of the saltings we sailed past: our eyes were just above the heavily sea lavender scented sight-line…

On the approach to Iron Wharf, the town’s high steepled church proudly mimics the lofty top masts and cocky sprits of the cluster of sailing barges berthed there.

We (I) had fitted a new galley pump the week before: it leaked out of its bottom seal and pump spindle. Great.
After removal and inspection, I decided to seal the base gasket with sealant. The leaking spindle was sorted by hardening up the o-seal gland. Probably, it is now overtightened!

I had called Mark the proprietor at Faversham Chandlery and to my delight he had a pump in stock – a Whale Flipper. So at least I have a spare: a ‘bodge’ is unlikely to last.

And yes, I shall be writing to the manufacturers…

When preparing to set off from our home berth two weeks ago, I spotted a tare in the leach of our Genoa. I gave it a fix using a bit of sail bag label … Cindy – Wilkinsons Sails in Faversham offered to give it a proper repair if we visited, which was in our plans.

I got the sail into sailmaker post lunch hour and it was returned to the boat after work by Alan Johnson.

So, a heartfelt thank you to both Faversham businesses!

We had come into Faversham for a booked prolonged visit because a day was set aside for an event in London at St Katharine Docks with the Sea-change Sailing Trust. But that is another story…

The stay also coincided with need of a washing machine – two of which are billeted in the Iron Wharf’s revamped shower and toilet facilities.

Some old friends have departed the yard or met their maker during past two seasons. Other craft have moved position – whether in line for breaking, I don’t know.

We had been tipped off after our arrival about a new waterside cafe at the outer corner of Iron Wharf by the old brick dock entrance.

However, I had spotted it as we came in – yes, we’ve visited and enjoyed decent coffee and cake! The building of the defunct Iron Wharf club has also been removed from where it forlornly sat for years, close by.

The place is called, Quints Retreat Cafe Diner. It has a quirkiness with interesting menu boards…

Enjoy!

Familiar or what!

The problem of unwanted craft around our UK moorings and boatyards along with discarded and abandoned vessels along creeks and riverbanks has been an increasingly sticky problem.

It is something our European cousins have cottoned onto too. A figure placed on such craft sits at around a million vessels. Of what minimum size, I can’t recall.

So, when I spotted in a Marine Industry News article a couple of weeks back that there was just such a problem around the waterways and lakes of the USA, I smiled. Let’s face it, why should it be anything different?

Apparently the problem has rocketed with numbers of craft being left to fend for themselves until they founder or break moorings and settle into a river bank.

The problem has reached such proportions that it has become noticeable. A solution is being sought. The American Boat Owners Association have received central funding for grant applications to make a start on dealing with the problem. A systematic removal is planned.

See: https://marineindustrynews.co.uk/boatus-foundation-opens-7-5m-funding-to-remove-derelict-vessels/

Now, in the UK we have the British Marine Federation – a builder/yard/marina ‘set’ looking after their interests. We also have the ‘use-less’ Royal Yachting Association, which seems interested in racing and gold medals than the interest of cruising and casual sailors.

As many will know, I cancelled my forty-five year membership over the RYA’s ‘disconnect’ from the Calor Gas problem.

However, they represent, in theory, the user group – US! What have they done? As far as I know, Nothing.

It is a subject I have harped on about for a very long time, long before I saw anything else in the media. See:

Ditch-crawler applauds action to find homes for old boats…

Wherever one walks along the shores of Essex and Kent the saltings rim is often the graveyard for an old thing that has drifted up on the tide.

In the past it was generally acceptable to let an old wooden vessel die on a river bank or patch of saltings where it would eventually rejoin the environment from which it came. Now it is not.

Since moving to The Blackwater Marina, which is a traditional yard as well, I have noted a number of vessels being broken up. During the spring an old MFV-type’ was placed in a floating dock and dismantled. Much was burnt, but some had to go to landfill. Other bits – outfit materials – were dismantled and went away somewhere…

Another similar vessel in a parlous state which was towed round from the West Mersea houseboat moorings awaits cutting up. Sadly, much of the hull timber was in a relatively good condition, however, talking to one of the dismantling crew, he pointed out where poor maintenance led up to its fate – a far too common story!

Currently an old steel tank barge briefly a failed houseboat project is being cut up.

In the yard there are craft fit only for disposal, in the moorings too … however, as yard managers have aft told me, ‘if the bills are being paid…’

It is a problem.

It is a problem that has to be dealt with!

In that, the ‘solution’ being worked in the USA may lead to government funding to assist in disposal for it is not cheap. It is that or local authorities and yards need the legal teeth to go after an owner, or if one cannot be found to apply for a grant to legally dismantle such vessels.

At the end of the day, an end of life plan must evolve: plastic (GRP) cannot rot or be burnt as wood can or steel recycled.

Food for thought.