So, as the new year was seen in, in England, like the rest of the United Kingdoms of GB & NI, we found ourselves in a National Lockdown.

The Covid-19 epidemic had well and truly become a raging second wave. People dying had risen to over a one thousand per day and continued to rise. Hospitalisations were going through the roof, nearing the fifty percent occupancy rate.

People were required to stay at home unless taking exercise, collect shopping or had a medical appointment. There were other exclusions within the regulations…

Elite sports have been allowed as were various other things, sailing too, from a public hard. This would seem to disallow sailing from a club even though access for checking of one’s vessel is allowable whilst adhering to precautions. Strangely, sea angling has been allowed!

Some clarification needed here, surely.

Boris said, ‘take exercise’ which essentially was to be once per day and of a ‘local’ nature. ‘Local’ was never expanded upon in the rules and various Police Forces began ‘jumping on’ exercising persons!

So, other than a weekly check on poor Whimbrel, she has sat alone, probably feeling somewhat rejected!

We have walked… We have walked our local area in circles, in reverse directions and in slightly differing alternatives.

We want to go to places further afield, but…

On a visit to our club and the boat, I picked up the oars, centre board and rudder from our tender, Twitch.

Bit by bit the oars, centre plate and rudder were sanded, touched up and finally completely over-coated.

I made a batch of pickled onions, having not done so in the latter part of autumn, luckily finding stocks available.

Marmalade time came round and notwithstanding the ‘ailment’ of Brexit, supplies had come through from Spain, at the usual time.

The operation of preparation was done between us with me making the plain Seville and Christobel the dark.

In discussion with a number of people it transpired that a hyacinth helped greatly in dissipating the odours from varnishing. A lady we have been keeping an eye on gave Christobel one of these highly scented flowers for her birthday and yes, ‘my’ varnish was virtually nullified!

The weather, for sailing, was lousy, so, in many respects, nothing has been ‘given up’ in that respect, but I know that as the days, weeks and months even, go on, I will become more agitated about getting out on the water in good clean fresh air. Far, far, safer out there than doing the weekly shopping!

Finally, the last of the dinghy items was completed. What next?

Well, on my last visit to check up on Whimbrel, I changed the hatch latch onto a spare set of wash boards made up years ago to allow removal home of proper boards. These have still to be worked upon.

Next? well, I have that in hand for the near future as we canter on into February…

Do, please keep safe everyone.

2020 has been a traumatic year for many. The Covid-19 pandemic which has swept around the world from its starting base in far off mid China at the end of 2019, has caused economic and personal devastation.

In its wake, a huge number of people have been infected. Sadly, far too many have and continue to suffer the ultimate sacrifice. Many survivors have developed what the medical world have termed ‘Long-Covid’ – with largely respiratory problems.

We lost an immediate neighbour, leaving two teenage girls motherless. My own 89 year old mother suffered badly from Covid-syndrome and at the time of writing, a much loved 91 year old aunt is currently suffering from the infection – fighting it and showing signs of pulling through.

The ‘whys and wherefores’ of this whole appalling human tragedy will, eventually, be sussed out by the health body of the United Nations (WHO) with a view to what are the lessons should be learnt.

During the various levels of lockdown periods, we have walked for Essex this year – both of us wearing out our boots and requiring new ones!

During the middle of last year, I wrote a blog ‘asking’ sailors to abide by rules about going away overnight during the then secondary lockdown. Sailing had been allowed as an exercise sport during the day, with a specific instruction to return home to main residence.

The result of this was for a ‘disgruntled’ sailor from the Benfleet Yacht Club issuing a threat – spread around the locality and wider Thames Estuary – to burn Whimbrel. Later, after a verbal attack, the affair became an active police matter.

See:

Ditch-crawler gets angry about local sailors (Lower Thames & Medway) disregarding Covid-19 instructions…

Tied in with this, ‘we’ had gone to the assistance of a Benfleet Yacht Club vessel which had gone aground. The crew were desperate for help.

After stowing sail and going back to them, we’d attempted to tow the boat clear of bank it was on using a tow line quickly made up with our best warps. We failed. The tow line (our warps) was inadvertently passed to the casualty by the Island YC work boat which had also come to give assistance.

Sadly, but a sign of the age we live in, neither we or the Island Yacht Club received any thanks, nor have the warps been returned, inflicting a cost to us.

See: http://nickardley.com/ditch-crawler-enjoys-a-week-of-glorious-carnival-weather-finding-courtesy-and-cheerfulness/

Attempts by the Island Yacht Club to convene a meeting to discuss these matters with respective senior flag officers proved fruitless with a series of prevarications on the part of the Benfleet Yacht Club. Their attitude no longer surprises me…

And there, it will probably rest.

So, for me in particular and my mate too, we are hoping we can put all of this behind us and go forward into 2021 with renewed optimism for a much brighter sailing year. And, to be able to sail where we want without fear of threats of any sort: this marred our sailing hugely during the past year.

One much favoured area was not visited and another anchorage only twice – the second resulted in the mentioned ‘attack’ and it is something we would not wish to experience again.

One of the major pleasures we are looking forward to during 2021 is the ability to take afloat all the people who have regularly sailed aboard Whimbrel over the decades. It has most certainly been one of the ‘downers’ of this last year.

I am already geeing some of my crews up: although the Covid-19 situation is currently quite grim, life will return to near ‘normal’ as inoculation numbers increase.

On the first day of 2021, we made it afloat en-famile for the first time for a number of years. Our boy as a ‘live alone’ so is allowed to move within our bubble. The ‘boy’ didn’t get a sail aboard Whimbrel during 2020 for various reason, from not being available, home working requirements, not being allowed during earlier lockdowns and weather!

Shortly before the boat picked up our crew arrived, relegating us to lesser roles of deck hand and cabin girl!

It was a bit of a grey day, with a cold WNW blowing down the creek. The air temperature was around 2-3 deg C, not as cold as our last sail of year, the previous day!

Sail was set in timely fashion, shooting up-creek with the tide, turning the boat on her axis to run out.

Waders swirled around the saltings and Brent dabbled amongst the cord grass stalks hunting for food. For once, both the mate and I had time to look around together…

Clearing the creek we ran east towards the area of the Crowstone in Chalkwell Bay.

Eventually, a tack was made in towards the shore. Passing close west of the ancient stone boundary marker of the Port of London, tacking away. People ashore seemed enlivened by our mast-head hamper: the Christmas Tree!

Further tacks were made with a long one out before heading in towards Leigh-on-Sea: I had booked a facetime call with my mother in her care home and wanted to be closer inshore for her.

During this time, the ‘cabin girl’ had set to and prepared tasty bacon and black pudding rolls. Yum!

Off Leigh-on-Sea’s Billet public house were turned round a Finesse 21, Penny and reached across the Leigh flats to the entrance of Smallgains Creek.

A few months ago this stretch of water was alive with Brent awaiting the tide to drop so they could feed on the carpets of eel grass that is a favoured delicacy. They were no where to be seen. We did however, spot a friendly seal which popped up for a look…

By the time we reached our creek, all were feeling the cold. I warmed up dealing with sails, as did the mate when stowing the headsail. The boy was ‘sent’ away to get warm!

We both walked away from Whimbrel, glowing inside and outwardly. I had a grin beneath my wind reddened cheeks which I carried home, with more than a spring in my step…

That ‘glow’ was wiped from our hearts by the more than expectant broadcast from the Prime Minister on 4th January 2021 to the whole of the United Kingdoms, but specifically in detail to England. Another full lockdown has been announced.

As I get set to post this, the likelihood of sailing during the next couple of months looks grim: the rules are yet to be promulgated…

For all boating people and ‘landlubbers’ alike, this past year will have been a testing time for most.

The year started with a perpetual round of high winds especially during the weeks when the tides were during daylight hours. The result was, for me and Christobel, was that Whimbrel only had a modicum of use up until lockdown.

Whimbrel had been hauled out and chocked up a week or so before lockdown and her bottom had been water slurry cleaned off back to wood. After a couple days drying, work commenced!

See: http://nickardley.com/ditch-crawler-mate-give-whimbrels-bottom-a-clean-up/

Fortunately our club remained open and allowed members to quietly deal with maintenance, following distancing rules. Whilst doing job, we saw less people than when walking and certainly didn’t have any distancing problems with people walking straight at us and not moving aside … which has remained a problem throughout the Covid-19 pandemic.

‘What is it they don’t understand’!

As Christmas approached, my friend up in Daws Heath, a chap who used to grow trees for the festive period, dropped off a tree for Whimbrel’s mast. The chap has been doing this for nearly two decades now!

At that time, although most of Essex was in a level three lockdown (England) a UK wide relaxation for family visits was agreed over a five day window. Then, a new strain of Covid-19 was proved to be the reason behind a Southeast England rapid increase in infections … Wales and Scotland were seeing rises too.

There was a huge wailing and gnashing of teeth: Christmas was looking to be ‘cancelled’ and it was with Essex following other eastern and south eastern areas into a new Level 4.

Christmas though, cancelled? How can anyone cancel Christmas – eradicate Man, perhaps. People have forgotten what Christmas really is…

For Whimbrel’s crew, life will remain much as planned … although we’re unsure if our church will be open!

The tree was big enough to trim back the trunk for the hoisting stick. Trunk was a handy size too… This year, just for the hell of it, I purchased a set of battery operated lights to decorate the tree. These have a timed operating time of 6 hours in 24. So they were switched on around 1600, as dusk settled!

Hoisting day was again forecasted to be fairly windy, but like on previous days the winds didn’t rise locally and certainly dropped off as the afternoon crept towards dusk. So, both unanimously elected for a sail…

We jogged out of the creek under jib, coming up to wind when clear to hoist the main. It was glorious. An almost clear blue sky sat above, with some clouds far away to the west probably beyond Gravesend.

Swirls of knot and dunlin swooped round the boat off Canvey Point. This is something always a joy to see. Whimbrel’s mate sat, entranced, a smile of pleasure radiating…

Away along the shallows, Brent geese were paddling around the dead stalks of cord grass ferreting for food, in between honking at one another in a language that can only be guessed at.

We sailed east on a broad reach down the run of the ray Channel, the boat revelling in the thrust of the wind’s pressure and a wash wave curled away from the bow. It was comfortable, full sail breeze, and we were soon down to level with Chalkwell Beach.

Along the shore, a parade of people taking the air and exercise were seen. Out on the water a clutch of dinghies were skittering about, helms clad in dry suits to ward off the chill. One, a laser, came up off our starboard quarter and then lost the wind under our shadow. The helm, a lad, called, ‘I love your tree…’ I grinned.

Along the channel of the Thames, ships were on the move, some were large container vessels. We turned inshore, heading in towards Leigh-on-Sea.

Close into the shore, swimmers were seen ‘enjoying’ the water… Off Victoria Wharf, Whimbrel was tacked round for a fetch out to the Ray Channel again.

We were sailing towards the setting sun and I thought perhaps it was going to one of those cracking sunsets sometimes experienced, but, a low bank of cloud swallowed the sun and we saw barely a touch of colour.

A couple of tacks took us in towards the entrance buoys marking Smallgains Creek.

Away to the south, marking the shallow swatch across east of the point marshes, a series of buoys laid by the Island Yacht Club were clear to see. A point buoy laid by Dauntless Yard a couple of years ago has been moved west to the position I myself placed the previous Point Buoy which went astray some years ago. The ground chain was still out there!

Also marked for the first time in many years is the remains of a steel vessel of unknown origin which sits on the flats a little to the south-southeast of the out creek markers. An isolated danger mark has been used here.

Along the outer reach of Smallgains, the jib was stowed and then the main in a faltering evening breeze, far removed from the 4-5 on most forecasts.

Once berthed and sorted, I dropped the tree down towards deck to activate a set of lights strung around the tree’s branches!

As we walked away and looked back to survey our handiwork, I chuckled: up the creek another lit tree could be seen … ‘on a motor boat…’ my mate quipped, adding,’… not the same’!

It was a superb near two hour sail, which if it were to be the last of the year, it’ll surely be more greatly savoured for that…

Back in September it was decided by me and my siblings that our dear mother had to go into a care home after a series of falls and a diagnosis of Covid Syndrome. This necessitated a home clearance job for us all, organised by our able sister who promptly disappeared off to the Ionian on a sailing holiday – a trip she and her crew had been having palpitations about all summer!

So, far from the sea on a prolonged visit to deepest Devizes, during many discussions on messenger our mother’s possessions were ‘split’ between us. I was ably assisted by my good mate in working through ‘sister’s job list’ … it also fell to my lot to ‘sign’ mother into her new home too…

While clearing a desk, I came across our father’s architectural thesis dated 1948. I ‘lifted’ this as something of interest to delve into later. It being about the area I sail in and moor Whimbrel.

The thesis was a design proposal for a marina at the eastern end of Two Tree Island, incorporating the old channel (now silted) of the Ray up to the Two Tree Island Hard.

I found that an entrance lock was planned, facing east, leading into the Ray. The location would have been adjacent to the current position of Smallgains Creek, but of this, I shall add detail as I go…

For some years I had had my father’s rolls of old charts. One was marked up with an area of future development along the Leigh-on-Sea shore and showed how it had been a proposal to incorporate a chunk of South Benfleet and Hadleigh into a greater ‘Southend Conurbation’ – yikes!

In actual fact, ‘Southend’ own two chunks of woodland in Hadleigh – Hadleigh Great Wood and a neighbouring copse – a ‘present’ from a one time Southend mayor who lived at Solby’s House in Hadleigh.

Interestingly, much of the very same area is currently being proposed as an inclusion into a new Southend West Parliamentary Constituency in part of a National realignment of boundaries, to reduce seats and rebalance constituent numbers. Less of that, but as I say, interesting…

The chart is a fascinating look back at the past. It shows the long tail of saltings running east from Canvey Island. This chart is similar to a chart from around c1850, I have. Yet, since then, the saltings at the island’s eastern end have rapidly eroded. I was measuring this denudation over a number of years a decade ago and found that around two to five metres were going each year.

That arm of saltings was stated to be a natural protection from prevailing south-westerlies. I think my father would be surprised to see the extent of there loss since his early 20’s. A little east of the marsh point, a shallow swatch now runs across – see picture below – which Whimbrel is sailed through regularly. It has been a western crossing of the Ray Bank for vessels for years now.

The thesis proposal was for a marina accessible at all states of the tide, I assume details of approach depths and so on. It had been something local yachtsmen (people) had aspired to for some decades. Historically, there had been a proposal for a marina in the bay at Chalkwell, some twenty years earlier during the late 1920s into the 1930s.

Two Tree Island was a very different place in those days – essentially a part tide flooded patch of marsh and agricultural grazing land. The border between Hadleigh and Leigh-on-Sea passed through its middle, as it still does. Leigh people like to think of the island as theirs, but it ain’t! The line was in essence the run of Mill Creek, which once flowed out of the valley on the north side of the high ground running up to Hadleigh Castle. The whole area was a ‘delta’ until solid reclamation on the mainland came with the railway in the 1840s.

The thesis lays out the design background including local area plans that were current at the time…

The red area in plate above shows extent of land to be reclaimed! Yes, that was so, but also a large chunk of saltings and mud flats would have become the marina basin too.

One has to remember that the extent of the saltings running east from the eastern side of Two Tree Island was not as extensive as it is now. In fact for decades, barges had been extracting sand there.

Were Brent geese coming to the area in those days. I don’t know, but they surely would have done to a lesser extent. The ‘Thames’ was very polluted in that not so distant time.

It can be seen from the outline drawing that the bulk of the marina basin was planned for the south side of the island, with yards, stores, businesses over what was the ‘saltings’ edge.

Below is a view across the silted and saltmarsh infested remnants of a once open mud flat area of Leigh Creek. The view looks down towards Chalkwell, and, if you know the area, the Essex Yacht Club Ship can be seen. Seventy years ago those saltings did not exist and it was a haven for small craft and houseboats.

My parents moored their sailing barge May Flower in the area adjacent to the (new) Leigh-on-Sea station below the old hard across to Two Tree Island during 1951/2. The barge beyond was the ‘little’ Emma, owned by the Stubbs family.

Below is a layout of the marina development and replacement buildings to house displaced businesses. The northern boundary line is roughly the line of the current road leading onto Two Tree Island. The two truncated triangular shaped areas were marked ‘future development’ and sit where the refuse recycling centre, putting green and works to west of station and to the east the current Lower Thames Marine yard, layup facility, cockle sheds along to Crooked Billet public house.

An esplanade was planned by Southend Corporation (as was) to run to seaward of the station at Chalkwell along past Leigh-on-Sea and incorporating a road. This was included in my father’s thesis. So, in essence he was building on the local authority plan…

A futuristic club house building was proposed – this from its size was likely to house more than one club: several would have been displaced. The Essex and the Leigh were historically one, but split at the turn into the 1900s.

I would say that the design would have certainly put the area on the yachting map! It has overtones of the Art Deco building of the Royal Corinthian YC on the R. Crouch at Burnham.

Leigh-on-Sea at the time (1948) still had a fairly busy commercial waterfront. This was based around timber being shipped into the wharf where Mike’s Boatyard now sits, and the coal wharf which served the local gas works, essentially where the flyover comes over the C2C rail line.

Commercial wharfage was allowed for in the scheme, situated along the western wall of basin.

Amazingly, within my picture files, I have been able to mimic all the pictures taken by my father for use within his thesis. One, which I had to pop along to Leigh to get was a view looking over the eastern end of Two Tree Island. The hull of the spritsail barge Eva Annie is clearly visible to lhs of my father’s picture. Only her stem is essentially visible today.

I think my picture was taken a little to east of my father’s, however, the differences are clear with a growth of saltings where once there was mudflats covered by the tide suitable for sheltered moorings..

The building in the middle of the 1948 view is, I believe, the Billet PH.

With some use of imagination, the marina complex sits before your eyes…

During this autumn, Christobel and I sailed Whimbrel up into Leigh Creek, taking the route across the flats then joining the withy marked rill up towards the moorings and yard of the Leigh Motor boat Club which resides directly below the relatively recent bridge across to Two Tree Island. The extent of saltings that have built up in seventy years is stark.

East of Bell Wharf, the eastern most of the town’s wharves, the current shore rubs hard up to the railway line with just a pathway (cinder path) barely a metre wide running along to Chalkwell where it becomes the esplanade running to Southend and beyond to Thorpe Bay & Shoebury.

The Essex Yacht Club has remained a ‘water based’ club aboard a converted club ship – currently an ex Royal Navy GRP Minehunter, the Wilton.

Below is a 1947 view looking west from close by Chalkwell Station. A line from the esplanade here to outside the distant Essex club ship to the current eastern tip of Two Tree Island was proposed to be housing and public spaces – essentially in line with the then local plan.

Below is a view across the old yard of Johnson & Jago, now Lower Thames Marina. Note cockle sheds along front beyond the shed front. Below it is a view recently taken a little east of the marina’s yard, looking past the Belton Way Little Boat Club. The strand that once sat in fron of the sheds has now been incorporated by the cockle community, with half-tide wharves out to the creek edge.

In the following picture, note too, the growth of saltings running east and towards the creek’s southern edge. Little banks of cord grass have crept down to where Leigh Creek turns away from shore, east of the old station (Leigh-on-Sea Sailing Club) and abuts the creek edge in many places.

It is one of the estuaries conundrums: although the level of the sea is rising and the land is sinking, locally, siltation and saltmarsh growth is rampant. Note: Essex and Kent have lost around 40% of their saltings in past fifty years.

Back at the end of World War Two, it was apparent that there were plans to extend the esplanade that runs from Shoebury past Southend to the eastern side of Chalkwell Station through past Leigh-on-Sea. A new southern road surface some years ago too, and died…

The waterfront area of Chalkwell was reclaimed from the sea many decades earlier and is an area at risk of flooding to this day. Sailing close to the shore, the view inland is not dissimilar to looking at Canvey Island.

The foreshore here is low and the tide arrives earlier than many other areas, hence the reasoning for Chalkwell Bay as a site for a marina earlier than my father’s thesis ideas

Even today, the idea of a marina in the Southend area is revived from time to time – generally centred on the Southend’s famous pleasure pier, however, most yachtsmen would want to know how berths would be protected from the forces due to weather and ship induced swells. Never mind the clear problems around access!

The finest idea in recent times came from a well known yachtsman (Royal Burnham YC) and businessman who wanted to build a marina and village on the western side of Canvey Island bordering Holehaven Creek – Mr Peter de Savary. However, his company’s plans were sunk by local opinion and a lack of local imagination, plus the discovery of the Carder Bee on some waste industrial land!

See: https://desavary.com

Currently, all yachting centres in the area are suffering increasingly severe problems from creek siltation. This is largely due to the misguided inning of much of the areas saltings over many decades back to before the age of the railway, which took away the largest area c 1840-50. The rapidity of useful creek water loss has increased following the blocking off of creeklets and their areas of saltings following the infamous 1953 east coast floods. This was admitted by the Coastal Agency at a River Thames Meeting held at the Island YC some years ago.

I personally fear this gradual demise of ‘useful water’. It is something that local yacht club’s are almost powerless to alter, other than tinkering around the edges.

The numbers of moorings laid off Leigh-on-Sea, even after the end of WW2, was far higher than it is now. Many craft currently moored west of the town’s eastern most wharf, Bell Wharf, do not float on neap tides or can move even before the tides pass the 5.0 m level (Southend). The situation will only become poorer as the years pass.

In the plate below, Whimbrel is sailing over the Leigh Flats, off The Peter Boat PH, with minimal clearance beneath her keel, yet it looks idyllic for sailing capers. I have recently been alerted by boating folk that the depth of water in the moorings of Lower Thames Marine are suffering from siltation – only constant dredging could alleviate this.

The local cockle community have taken over the Strand and it has become a wharfage that only floods on very high tides. Gone are the days when the boats listed over on the strand and were unloaded by men with baskets swinging on a yoke. Hard graft, for sure!

The thesis touched upon tidal streams that would most likely flow into and around the eastern wall of the idea. In the sketch below a tongue of sand is shown to the rhs. This feature is essentially still along that bank of the Ray, with a deep gut leading ‘west’ into the growing saltings on eastern end of Two Tree Island. There used to be a beacon along here until recent years.

In the Ray Channel around here sits a horse (shallow patch) which dries during springs. The southern side of the Ray with a narrow channel is buoyed again after a period of years without. The buoys can be seen in plate below and the horse, which virtually blocks the Ray Channel. The picture was taken after a seriously low tide level. My Whimbrel just crept through after I’d sailed up to just below and grounding in the ‘middle’ of what was normally sufficient water. The dark ‘blob’ in the picture’s middle area is a cockle boat which was on the bottom even that far east.

My father’s thesis stated that there was sufficient water for a 6′ (1.8 m) draft yacht to reach his proposed marina!

The marina’s entrance would have been a little east of the entrance to Smallgains Creek and I have incorporated a picture of Whimbrel in that area, which is the silted up northern ray channel around Bargander Sand (The big lump in the middle of the Upper Ray).

In the plate above, we had scrubbed off after returning before returning to our mooring during August. It is a perfect piece of firm clean sand. great for the mate to get in under the bottom…

Below is a close up of the thesis proposals. The entrance into Smallgains Creek now comes across the flats and joins Hadleigh Ray, as it is know this far in, a little to the east of sketched position.

The extent of the thesis’s planned reclamation area isn’t the whole truth though: the marina basin would cover an expanse of sand/mud. The area now is rich in eel grass, a favoured delicacy of the Brent Geese which arrive every September.

As is well known locally and far beyond, the area has become a magnet for wildlife. A seal colony spends their summer months in the Lower Ray off Chalkwell Bay. In winter, I frequently encounter seals whilst sailing. They even forage up into Smallgains Creek.

Wading birds of many species winter here too, feeding on the rich foodstuffs found in the shallow rills and mud/sand flats. The saltings provide shelter and food too.

Mitigation was an unknown concept then and, not surprisingly, it isn’t given a thought.

Would such a project see the light of day today?

It is doubtful, even with the availability of mitigation. Upriver, the building of the new container port required huge areas of land to be given back to the sea west of the site and over on (reclaimed) land along the Cliffe shore, where seawalls have been broken.

I believe, that flooding of land to west of Leigh under Hadleigh Downs was and remains a logical project. It would require the raising of the rail line, not insurmountable and the creation of islands within: the land has shrunk and immediately west of Leigh-on-Sea station the fields sit metres below the outer saltings. The sea wall could be broken and bridged to allow people to appreciate at a distance the recreated landscape. Wallasea Island’s return to the sea is working and provides a larger scale version of much needed satellite areas.

Some of the mud could come from locally used creeks…

The other question is whether a marina would be wanted by the local yachting community, who, like myself, enjoy the ‘tranquil’ ways of our marshland moorings?

All yachting folk know of many marinas: we all like a hot shower when cruising. We all like to just wander ashore and enjoy the ability to potter into a local waterfront hostelry for an inviting evening. There are so many positives…

What is certain is the future is becoming more and more difficult for deeper draft yachts in this Lower Thames idyll. The mud and salting growth along a half mile stretch of Benfleet Creek from below the barrier has been amazing to watch over the past twenty years.

Smallgains Creek is rapidly becoming a ‘gut’ with marsh moorings protected by a rapidly wasting island tail. Alluvial deposits creep ever more round the diminishing saltings. Will they eventually block Smallgains Creek?

What would have been the legacy. I think we all know the answer!

A full National lock-down in England came into force for the second time during 2020 on 5th November. This was after various areas of the country went into varying levels of restrictions, but the science was warning of another peak, so, in we went…

On the day before after a period of inclement weather, it dawned clear, sunny and with a gentle breeze. ‘We’re going…’ I said, over breakfast. My good mate nodded, indicating, her too!

Creeping out of our creek we were accompanied by Brent whilst waders swirled around the marsh eastern point of Canvey Island. A seal was spotted ‘snorkelling’ aver the shallows chasing fish. Tiny grebe were about too…

It was a glorious sail, with a poke up into leigh Creek (for the hell of it) and a look at a sunken Finesse 21 which has sat mouldering for over a decade. She was once a pristine varnished little ship.

It was great to get out afloat aboard Whimbrel: we’d not had a sail for some weeks. This was partly due to being away on two holidays (one a delayed break from end of March!) and weather.

During the dry periods in late Summer and early autumn, I’d got a lot of little areas of re-varnishing done where areas had broken down – around beadings in the main.

The second full lock-down dawned with a gorgeous sunrise, as did the first back at the end of March.

Interestingly, along with various other water based activities, sailing was allowed, providing crew were from same household or a single person within the family bubble. This meant our ‘boy’ could come along too … weather and his work commitments allowing.

I had a job in hand aboard Whimbrel. The stem head fitting needed removing to discover why rusting was taking place. The boat has a rigging ‘iron’ of bronze on the front face of the stem which I use for fastening a forestay too, when needed. That done, the fitting was renewed and the boat’s second forestay tied off clear.

The condition of the fittings inside faces was ‘clean’ with no corrosion taking place, which has happened before some years ago. The fastenings, however, were in a dubious state. Nearly half had suffered crevis corrosion.

I had some spares but not enough. I also questioned whether or not they were of A4 marine quality. Local outlets were closed in any case, so, an on line job beckoned. Two sets of replacements of A4 quality were ordered – sit back and wait. Bless the world wide web!

In the meantime, when not walking for our daily exercise, the Christmas Cake and Mincemeat were made!

Finally, the fastenings arrived and the cleaned up stem fitting with the necessary were deposited aboard Whimbrel. A week of day-time tides delayed work, plus a few buckets of rain and foul high winds.

Oh, and a tube of 291i bedding compound took its time to arrive too – the company sent out another, which arrived pronto. The original arrived later and was sent back!

Time crept on, we both had a joint baking day for festive period nibbles – we might see some of our friends! Note – the scones (cheese and bacon) were made for walking lunch bites.

Finally, on a calm and pleasant day – last Sunday to be precise – we enjoyed a late breakfast (NO walking afterwards) and headed to Whimbrel to get the job started some weeks earlier, finished.

Tools prepared and walking board over the side, away ‘we’ went. Sadly, during the operation, Christobel as tool hander, got somewhat chilled. Ah, she’s a great mate!

I won’t describe the job, but follow the pictures…

The flanges of the fitting are secured with several countersunk screws either side plus two set screws I fitted some years ago. A secondary large bolt of say 8 mm would be better at foot of fitting. This has been done on another Finesse 24, Gypsy. The cable roller bolt essentially takes the loading from the forestay.

All I’d like to do now is go for a sail, as allowed by the laws passed by our august Parliament, weather permitting!

The first of two barge yachts I saw during my travels this year were upon the water, another was spied recently during the autumn whilst walking.

The first discussed, pictured below, came through Queenborough towards the end of August. I couldn’t focus in on her name, but a sailing friend has said he believes her to be the Clara B.

Initially, I thought she was planning to stop at the harbour’s pontoon, but after slowing, puttered away round the Swale, east bound.

Apparently, the vessel moored off the old Coal Wharf ’round the corner’ in the harbour, where she sat for two days before departing. Where she went, I do not know.

A little more sheer would give her a visual lift to my mind, but that is merely a personal view! It would be great to see her rigged out and sailing, for sure. The Peter Nicholls site says that the hull of these craft were designed around the famous ‘racer’ Girilda, built by Pipers of Greenwich around a 120 years ago.

The Clara B is thought to have been built by Peter Nicholls who is a builder of steel deep water cruising yachts (similar to the bay Class once built round at Conyer) and Dutch types. The firm has also built 10 m length ‘Thames’ barges – barge yachts.

See: https://www.steelboats.co.uk

Again, back in August, we left Queenborough more or less at the same time as the sweet little Nancy Grey. The little ship had been alongside the pontoon as we came through on our way up round the Swale and into the River Medway. She cast off and motored after us…

Clear of the harbour and in open water, her owner, Tim, rounded into the wind to hoist sail. Tim is an old Finesse owning friend who’d had the Finesse 21, Ivy May, for many years. His two lads were aboard, with the eldest revelling in his position aft at the helm.

We tacked about a little to keep within range and watch the crew working away, chuckling: oh how much simpler the Bermudian rig is!

Main set, the jib was broken out and they were away…

Soon after Nancy Grey’s staysail was set and yes, she looked a picture. I have known of the Nancy Grey and her sister Dione for around fifty or more years, having passed them when sailing aboard the spritsail barge May Flower (my childhood home) and also, latterly, the Dione was berthed close by May Flower’s berth being herself kept in Shoregate Dock off Milfordhope Creek – a creek running west from the foot of Stangate Creek.

We later met up with Tim in Chatham Marina where we’d come in for a couple of days for use of the laundry, showers and a visit to Rochester. He said he was pleased with ‘Nancy’ but clearly had a lot to learn.

In the autumn, on our way to a hotel holiday based in deal, we stopped off at Faversham for a coffee break. A stop here also means a pop into the yard at Iron Wharf, for me! I also popped into speak to Alan Staley )

See: http://www.alanstaleyboatbuilders.co.uk

& https://www.ironwharf.net

I was surprised to bump into ‘Nancy’ up on chocks, stripped of hull paint. The hull looks sound enough, but clearly some filling, sanding and painting awaits Tim’s attention: he’ll not want boat to dry out too much!

The bottom of both of the sister barge yachts isn’t flat, but a very flat ‘V’ and they have a bit of a keel below the ‘flat’ bottom, as can be seen when looking from aft.

Nancey Grey’s owner tells me that he is desperately trying to get some paint on the old girl, but the autumn weather hasn’t been particularly conducive.

I look forward to meeting her again next year upon the water.

Another is Calluna, a barge yacht dealt with in a similar blog in October 2014, discussing barge yachts. This is also a product of Peter Nichols.

Calluna’s owner did not rig this year due to the shortness of the season during our Covid-19 crisis, and the little ship has sat, patiently, at her moorings along the shore by the Belton Way Little Boat Club. The owner, does however have another small Bermudian sloop which he has used to entertain himself aboard!

For the old blog, see:

Barges in Ditch-crawler’s patch…

In that 2014 post, I also talked about the last of the little ships seen. Now though, all is not as rosy for her. The vessel is the ‘proper’ little barge yacht, Tiny Mite.

Tiny Mite also hails from the Shuttlewood yard at Paglesham on the banks of the River Roach. The yard is long closed, but the weathered and old clapboard shed still sits at the top of a crumbling hard.

Tiny Mite’s owner has been quite ill of late and the ship is now on the market. As previously said, in 2014, she has been extensively rebuilt. However, since her launch, I do not believe she has been sailed.

She has sat in a rigged and ready state for a number of seasons, but her mainsail was ‘blown out’. The owner does have a spare sail available. Cosmetic maintenance is clearly required.

Notice how shapely the old girl is against the much flatter lines of Nancy Grey. Tiny Mite, is in essence a miniature spritsail barge, however, her scantlings would not be expected to bear the weight of anything such as cargo carrying. She is a yacht!

Well, if you are interested in this lovely vessel, your best bet is to contact the Leigh Motor Boat Club, Leigh-on-Sea, Essex.

A friend said to me, ‘…if I’d been ten fifteen years younger, I’d…’

Go for it, if inclined. She’s a fine ship under sail.

See here an earlier post about a book and booklet sent to me – the booklet is amazing and ‘advertises’ new build barge-yachts, back in the years following WW2.

See: http://nickardley.com/ditch-crawler-gets-a-wow-present-in-post

Our connection with the Blue Mermaid and the Sea-change Sailing Trust began many years ago now.

I had just had my book ‘May Flower A Barging Childhood‘ published (2007) and in chapter one, I had written of my thoughts about barge reconstructions and the building a ‘replica’ in steel. Uncannily, during 2008/9 I learnt of the Blue Mermaid appeal…

Christobel and I have been avid supporters in print as well as in hard cash, ever since.

Now for a spot of history. The original Blue Mermaid was blown up by a mine near the old position of the West Hook Middle Buoy in the Swin. The May Flower was tacking with her towards the spitway – the May Flower went to Colchester after the Blue Mermaid’s crew were looked for, sadly a forlorn hope for nothing was found.

The appeal was for the build of a new vessel to allow the trust to fulfil its stated aims in an ongoing cost effective way. Time passed by, funds were raised alongside a continuation of trust programmes afloat in a variety of chartered barges. Finally, the new barge was launched – built at Polruan, Cornwall – towed to Maldon and fitted out over a two year period.

With a season and a bits real work under her belt, along came the year of Covid-19…

Most barges remained either relatively inactive or did not even rig in the spring. The Sea-change Trust rigged out the Blue Mermaid to give trainees some experience, also, once rigged the trust has managed to do training in house and crew/skippering weekend sessions.

We’d been invited to sail with the trust on several occasions, but were always tied up sailing aboard Whimbrel. Then an email came through while we were away on a ‘cottage’ holiday at a working windmill in Boston – would we like to go on a day trip. Wow, yes please!

We had to be at Heybridge Basin in time to be picked up at 0600 … with two others. Fortunately, that night was also ‘clocks’ so we did not loose much in the way of ‘normal’ sleep. However, it was a long day full of excitement and pride.

Initially, Christobel was called aft by Richard (skipper) to helm off the buoy – she didn’t like that and called me aft, saying to Richard that she would rather I did it. I’d have trusted her…

It was uncannily quiet on a day with a inshore waters forecast of SW 5-7. Local weather predictions were a little lower, but…

A strange tidal set took across in towards the Millbeach moorings and a tack was needed across to Northey Island. The wind increased and the barge bit into the ebbing tide and began to show her paces, breaking free.

Behind us, the Topsail Charters vessel Hydrogen could be seen setting sail as she motored down with a much reduced Covid compliant party aboard.

It seemed a shame to stop, but the anchor was dropped off the Osea shore and whilst the bacon sizzled below, the four of us helped Ollie (mate/1st hand) rig the jib.

During breakfast we were hit by a squall and a short vicious burst of showers … it soon cleared!

At breakfast, I mentioned to Richard and Hilary that I was expecting a facetime call with my mother who has had to go into a care home and all are currently isolated. I continued to helm as we were passing Bradwell.

The wind increased on the way down river and I could feel the pull of the jib. It was exhilarating, different from sailing Whimbrel, but I was getting the feel of her.

It was sublime sailing. Different, Christobel said, to sailing on Whimbrel: from the deck of a spritsail barge one is higher above the water, less conscious of speed and seemingly all the time in the world to gaze.

As the time for my call came, I handed the helm to one of our fellow crew. Now, the chap has only just begun to sail in dinghies, but he seemed a natural at the helm under Richard’s watchful eye.

Jabbering to my mother and showing her the scenes around the deck and beyond, she was transported to days long ago!

Off Sales Point, the wind strengthened into a ‘bargeman’s breeze’ … we were tramping along hitting 8 1/2 knots. Richard and Ollie had a conversation and the topsail was rucked as the Bench head was left astern.

The spitway was in sight when we turned.

A lunch stop was planned off the beach at Sales Point. The wind eased as we came back into the river’s mouth with the shore to windward.

Conversation rattled round the lunch table with people spaced apart (apart from Christobel and I, and as I said, to guffaws, we’d woken up together, so presumably were a ‘bubble’…)

Before departing the bowsprit was steeved up. Anchor next … I was again at the helm. In glorious afternoon sunshine, we dropped off under very little mainsail, the rest set as we gathered way and the topsail as we tacked.

‘What do you want me to do?’ I asked Richard.

‘Take her upriver…’ he said, as he disappeared below.

With the two chaps forward with Hilary or Ollie, we long and short tacked west up the delightful River Blackwater.

At times, I seemed alone. Christobel was close by watching, looking happy and trying to get a word in from time to time…

At one point, I called, ‘think we should to tack.’

‘Your call…’ drifted down from forward.

Ready about … lee O … le’ go … back onto the tram lines…

One tack more after Thirslet Spit and Blue Mermaid’s bow sprit was on the Marconi. We were close on the wind!

The afternoon was moving towards an earlier evening than we’ve all been used to – clocks!

The navigation lamps were lit and placed…

By the time we approached Osea Island, it was dusk. Ahead, the marks were difficult to see. Ollie was impressed that I’d worked the Blue Mermaid through the gap past Stansgate Point and Osea.

Another conversation took place. ‘What’s up?’ I asked Hilary.

‘Nothing … you got us here too early…’ she said grinning. She followed this with embarrassing praise!

We went on past The Doctor, turned and sailed back to the Marconi after reaching ‘The Doubles’. Times were discussed around me … plenty now, it was reckoned. Water off Heybridge…

It was surreal sailing towards a known destination but unable to see very much. The ‘blinking’ buoys were out of view until passing them by. With crew alert all around, I concentrated hard, feeling proud of them, myself and the barge.

Hilly Pool was loomed. Richard’s form was apparent. He lifted a leeboard a turn, then turned and said, ‘Do you mind if I take her now…’

Just a few more short tacks, the topsail dropped, the barge was spun as mizzen was stowed and mainsail reduced to a mere scrap…

Then, the barge with its ‘way’, Ollie and Richard gently found our buoy…

What did I gain from the experience?

Well, every day is a school day and I, in particular, refreshed buried skills from my barging childhood: although I’d sailed on a number of spritsail barges over the years, this time there was a clear trust in my ability to handle this one million pound vessel … to call for the tacks, and to bring her up, in the dark especially, to Hilly Pool. I’ve sailed for many decades, but I learnt an awful lot.

Christobel too appreciated the caring attitude of the Trust’s patient and non-condescending teaching methods, gently caressing those with little or no knowledge into ‘efficient’ hands – this was reiterated by the other two chaps aboard. It is something I’ve written about before in magazine and blog articles.

What a day we had. It was a long one, but absolutely wonderful.

Thank you, Richard, Hilary and Ollie, and our two other crewmates.

Now, if you weren’t aware, at the top of the Harty Ferry hard on the Oare shore, there is a natural spring well. This has issued forth for well over one hundred years, but, sadly, it ceased running towards the end of 2018.

Many thought that was that…

I can remember going ashore here to top up the fresh water tank on the May Flower when we were round the East Swale during the mid 1960s. My father had a ‘small’ tank which could be shifted, from which, when hoisted in a davit it was run down to main tank. We must have done this several times, I expect! These days, 25 L drums can be used.

The well was sunk 100’s of feet down to the greensands layer below the chalk in the early 1900s by a mining company. It has run freely for yachtsmen to fill their water caskets and for casual passer by use too, ever since.

In 1982, apparently, it came under the stewardship of Kent Wildlife Trust, who administer the Oare Marshes Reserve which takes in much of the old ammunition (gunpowder) works land and saltings where a fleet of barges lies cocooned to the west of the hard.

The well has had relatively little done to it since its inception, however, towards the end of 2018 it ceased to flow.

Various organisations came to the aid of Kent Wildlife Trust (Swale Council – funds, Southeast Water, The Boorman Family Foundation and a local outfit, Touch the Earth). It was found that the cast iron down pipe was fractured or wasted.

A drilling firm, OT Drilling, relined the cast iron pipework and restored the flow.

So, the flow has been restored and yachtsmen (not included in the article I came across in a Faversham Community Magazine recently) can also pop ashore if requiring good quality water.

The water is tested annually for quality and is, of course, not chlorinated.

Below is part of the article…

Well done to all parties, I say!

I don’t usually count over the autumn season until September has passed by for so often the weather can continue to be ‘sublime’, however this year, the sparsity of rain enjoyed during the whole year changed and we have had some heavy deluges in natures attempt to even things out…

We have also had to be away on family business – getting ‘mother’ settled into a care home after a series of falls, a fractured neck bone and Covid-19 Syndrome. Pluss we’d been away in South Lincolnshire on holiday.

So, with a fine settle Friday approaching and a good tide, we changed our routine and went for it. It was a little overcast, with a useful N-Ne blowing from the hills along the Leigh-Southend shore.

Leaving the creek, the Brents were prolific. The terns have gone now and wafts of waders were swirling around the point marshes. Christobel stood watching, entranced…

I had booked a facetime call with my mother to ‘take her sailing’, so we headed deep in towards the foot of Southend Pier. The call was late, so I had to turn (or try to go under…!). Her call came through shortly afterwards and my ma gave me a run down on the scene before her…

The beaches now are largely empty, but intrepid swimmers were seen with heads bobbing and one or two with ‘safety float’ tugging along behind. A sprinkling of paddle boarders and canoeists were also seen.

As we approached the area of the Essex YC, my call with my virtual passenger had come to an end, not before my mother had spotted the church on Leigh Hill.

We passed by the yacht that I’d gone back to to see if they needed any help after breaking their mast … I was surprised that no temporary forestay hadn’t been rigged. Presumably, they’ll be lifted out soon…

Sailing past the old Timber Wharf, I spotted an acquaintance (Tony) aboard his Seaking. The boat has suffered damage to her bilge due to twisting/pounding on keel depth bilge keels. I’d get them cut back somewhat, to minimise the chances of this reoccurring. It is a problem suffered by more than a few Finesse 24s with deep bilge keels – a problem many Centaur and other Westerly owners have suffered.

It was getting towards highwater, but all thoughts of turning for home were far away as I let Whimbrel carry on towards the Belton Way Little Boat Club, immediately west of the last cockle shed. I gave a cheery wave to the closed looking place, but there would have been a couple of ‘old boys’ sitting drinking tea!

Local sailor and yachting journalist Dick Durham was seen rowing his tender back to leigh from the Island YC…

I looked west up Leigh Creek as it fed round the saltings off Lower Thames Marine towards where a Finesse 21 has been moored for years, becoming nothing more than a delict. She has now sunk… How sad!

Having turned we threaded our way out towards clear water across the shallows, passing between the edge of Leigh Marsh and the stem of the old tiller steered barge whose stem alone now shows her existence.

Huge flocks of Brent were paddling about awaiting the appearance of eel grass as the tide ebbed away. It kind of reminded me that that indeed, the tide was ebbing and it wouldn’t do to touch on the flats…

With a beam wind, slightly on the port quarter we picked up speed as the hills receded astern and I was dealing with fenders, leaving Christobel to helm.

Once in the creek, a cacophony noise from Brent within the salting channels met us and I listened briefly before letting the main run down leaving Whimbrel to forge over the now fast running ebb.

Time for us to change positions … so with my trusty mate forward with jib halyard in her hands, we swung towards our mooring.

‘Down…’ I called.

The sail was doused…

The boat gliding serenely as we slipped into our berth until with a hard pull, as I grabbed the stern line, she came to a halt against the fenders.

Yes, it was a glorious sail, the first of our autumn.

Some years ago whilst we were stopping at Maylandsea (Blackwater Marina), we met a couple who were aboard a catamaran. They hailed from The Gibraltar Point Sailing Yacht Club, south of Skegness.

‘Tucked just inside Gibraltar Point…’ the chap said, grinning. The club is at the southern foot of the febrile Lincolnshire coast in a narrow twisting mud creek which was once a haven for coastal shipping, with a port at Wainfleet. It’s also the northern point for ‘my’ inshore waters forecasting area – Gibraltar Point to North Foreland, but generally too big for inner Thames use.

It has been a place that I have always wanted to visit…

The ‘port’ of Wainfleet and its haven have long been reduced to a muddy creek through shifting saltings and an ever extending sand bar at Gibraltar Point. The village was given a drainage by-pass too to help prevent flooding.

The couple, let’s call them ‘John and Sandra’, had sailed down round the Norfolk coast to cruise the Thames Estuary waters. They were waiting for a window to start heading back, which we assumed they had achieved in time…

This all took place around a decade ago.

So, back to the present. We were on our way to Kings Lynn whilst on a touring holiday based in Boston (staying at a working windmill). Passing over the Fosdyke Bridge over the River Welland, I spotted sea going craft moored in the fast flowing silt laden river. I pulled into a pub car park which led to parking for mooring holders.

Walking towards a parked vehicle with a couple loading sail bags into back of their car, I stopped to natter …

Sadly, I learnt, the chap had died and the boat sold. The couple I met were still in touch with the lady ‘Sandra’ and promised to pass on the condolences of Whimbrel’s crew – giving our names. I hope they do this: they were a friendly and happy couple.

Later in the week we finally made it to Gibraltar Point and I had a walk around the creek edge looking at some of the moored craft belonging to the local club.

The moorings are fore and aft to the creek bank and without being rude, were of a ‘rickety nature’ in general, some more so than others. Some were clearly more substantial and had the look of ‘owner’ build rather than a common club system. The creek’s width was barely wide enough to turn some of the craft.

It was lovely to visit Gibraltar Point, saddened by the earlier news but pleased to see ‘yachting’ taking place in such a wild and ‘desolate’ yet beautiful place.

Rest in Peace ‘John’…