The second of January ‘dawned early’ as our alarm clock buzzed at a little before 0630. Christobel made our morning beverage whilst I headed for some ablutions. Both done, we headed off for a sail!

The tide was a neap with high water a little after 0930 and we walked round towards our Whimbrel as dawn truly broke in the east beyond Southend’s pier, clutching the makings for breakfast, I reveled in it. There was a light breeze from a northerly direction – this later became north-westerly under the Hadleigh hills.

Sails were readied and Christobel got the bacon on to sizzle … soon aromas were filling the air around Whimbrel as the tide crept upwards. The boat lifted and with a burst of astern we slid into the stream. Christobel helmed whilst I hoisted sail. The sails took over and we began tracking over the flood, outbound. The bacon, meanwhile, sizzled alone…

Bacon and egg rolls on their way…

No sooner than we had reached the outer limit of the Island Yacht Club’s moorings and our repast was ready!

Clearing the moorings with Brents in the shallows.

Ah yes, this is the life, scrumptious…

A tasty bite…

Clearing the creek we set a course towards Benfleet up Hadleigh Ray. All was quiet. Nothing else but birds were stirring beyond. Cloud away to the east blocked the sun’s appearance, but the light was increasing rapidly.

Morning light…

For a while, we both quietly chomped! And, I tacked the boat lazily with the flood under her round some shallows over a submerged island of sand. Licking my fingers and passing words of satisfaction to Christobel, we were both suddenly startled by a noise astern. We looked in wonder as several independent flocks of small wader, dunlin and knot surely, whirled past.

One of our passing flocks.

Another came by on the other side…

We watched as one lot weaved, wafted and danced over the Two Tree Island saltings before, in a tornado-like mass they settled within the enclosure of the island’s nature reserve. ‘The noise,’ my good Mate said, ‘it’s a susurration – yes a whisper but louder, like the swish of a breeze in the reeds.

Waders funneling earthwards … with some lapwings above.

Passing ‘Bird Island’ we saw that it was coated with feathered life. How lucky we are, I thought, to be able to witness all of this at such close quarters.

The western end of Bird Island.

We continued to tack west towards distant Benfleet. Clearly seen, in the light, were the myriad of masts with their clinking halyards standing stiffly to attention aboard the Benfleet club’s craft sitting in their winter’s resting places. When ‘east’ of Canvey Island point, the light plays with the masts on boats at the Island YC too … looking astern, they were in silhouette.

The level of ‘Bird Island’ has risen inexorably over the past decade. Passing London VTS crackled into life with a half-hourly update … the level was 4.8 m at Southend  and I estimated that the mud just covers at 5.0 m. Close by the tide was well into the cord grass infested edges of Marks Marsh Island. Grass would be growing here, in the middle, soon surely.

We tacked onward, coffee finished. The gnarled stumps of General Booth’s Wharf was passed by. It’s posts sporting several statuesque cormorants, which dutifully lifted heavily into flight in search of the mornings next meal. Over on the sea wall, by then fairly close to, several groups of walkers wandered past. Some, with dogs prancing about and yapping at everything and nothing, others clearly on a post New Year route march!

Passing some further creek shallows west of the old jetty – again swarms of waders lifted and alighted at random.

Astern, I thought I saw a distant sail, but in the light wasn’t sure, but the sun was about to clear the cloud layer out seaward.

Across the water, a silvery ‘pathway’ tinged with a little gold heralded the sun making its appearance…

Christobel helming…

Beyond the sea wall hidden from view the almost continuous whoosh of the morning’s commuter trains could be heard … our ‘boy’ would have passed by as we came out of Smallgains. Well done son! On our other beam, Canvey Saltings were passing by. Every now and then a curlew could be seen, ‘hurtling’ arrow-like, loosing its eerie call. I watched as a small flock of peewits lifted, ‘crying’ as they did so, with their soft and lazy looking wing beats fluttering, butterfly-like, across the marsh. The marshes had been looking drab, but with the sun’s appearance colours were heightened … it won’t be long before the first flush of green appears.

As high water approached, we turned for home. And yes, ahead (now) I spied another sail! It can be seen under Whimbrel’s jib.

The scene just after we turned for home…

The sun had by then truly appeared and above was blue with some fluffy white stuff burning away. The distant boat passed by, motoring with her jib sheeted in tight. We all called our greetings and were quickly separated again.

The Christmas spirit…

One of ‘Santa’s’ little helpers took our picture…

Heading towards Canvey’s eastern point and the entrance to Smallgains Creek…

Outside our creek the mainsail was stowed and we slid quietly over the ebb inwards. I hung the fenders … our first sail of 2019 was drawing to a close.

Christobel going forward to her post, arms flapping like a puffin!

‘Ready to lower,’ I called…

As, outside, the creek was dotted with little groups of Brent geese. There seems to be a vast number this winter. The ones seen ignored our passing as they foraged along the marsh edges on the northern side of Smallgains.

The jib flutters deck-wards…

With way on the boat, we slid into out waiting berth. Either side of us were two wooden friends. Christobel said, ‘Now then Whimbie … you can tell them all about it…’ Our neighbours are Dick Durham’s Betty II and Gypsy owned by fellow Finesse 24 sailor, David, who lives on the hills above these waters and, probably, saw as he enjoyed a ‘late’ breakfast!

Upon arrival at the moorings some three hours earlier, I overheard Christobel having a conversation with Whimbrel  – they have this ‘strange’ bond …

Slipping home…

Yes, it was a gorgeous sail. Gentle and nice, another of those to remember, surely…

Ah yes. I called my youngest brother up about a couple of ‘family’ matters and casually mentioned that I’d been looking at the weather for a weekend window … ‘Doesn’t have to be a weekend…’ came the instant reply, adding, ‘I’ve got loads of leave left over…’

I was soon recontacting with news that there was a decent window of opportunity dangling in front of us during the coming week …

‘I’ll check at work on Monday…’ was the response.

And, bingo. It was on.

The weather forecast showed sublime sun filled days with light winds on the Tuesday and more on Wednesday, before it turned ‘nasty’ again late on Wednesday night. My good Mate, Christobel, immediately began listing all the stuff I’d need to take: the boat has been stripped of bedding and comfort stuff.

Storing…

Tuesday came round quickly and my brother (Andrew) duly appeared in time for a coffee and a natter en famille before Christobel dashed off for a ‘coffee yarn’ with some mates! We were soon on our way ourselves: there were a few items to pick up at the grocers.

Reaching the creek a little before noon, we got the dinghy sorted out … its floorboards needed refitting as they’d been removed to allow sanding and painting of the boat’s insides – the weather hasn’t been conducive lately. P.S. It is done now! That done we hightailed round to Whimbrel to get her ready and stow gear.

Boat ready … awaiting the tide.

It was crystal bright and the sun felt warm on the cheeks. There wasn’t a drop of breeze and the creek’s incoming water was mirror flat. It was very sluggish, but eventually made to the point where I suggested to my crew that he could collect the dinghy … Andrew happily set off with the trolley we had used, ‘home’, too. Meanwhile I titivated bits around the boat and got myself organised and set all the navigation equipment working – the chart on the table!

A happy sailor…

It wasn’t long before the dinghy arrived ‘oared’ in superb ‘Cam’ fashion (Andrew rows in an ‘8’ on the Cam with a group of ‘oldies’…) although I think he missed the sliders…

Andrew arrives with the dinghy – looks like he wanted to tow Whimbrel out…

We then awaited the tide … drinking coffee and nattering. He’s been ‘good’ and has finally got his PSA test sorted out – all done and dusted and all clear. Well done Andrew…

Eventually Whimbrel stirred as the tide made and we slipped out. There was little to no wind! A light south-easterly was forecast, but was conspicuous by its absence. Clearing the island’s point outside Smallgains Creek the throttle was increased and we cruised at a little over 4 knots, heading directly for the distant ‘mass’ of Sheerness. I was relegated to ‘tea boy’…

In mid channel we had to ‘dally’ for a ship bearing down on us at speed. It wasn’t clear which side of the ‘reds’ it was going to go … it went outside as we loitered close by No. 6 (S) red buoy. The big ships go inside and smaller ones outside. The West Nore Sand fell astern as we picked up speed in the shallower water over the Grain Flats – a breeze too seemed to at last appear. Not much, but enough…

Creeping into the River Medway…

Passing over the flats inside the Grain Fort in a little under two metres of sea water we were sailing properly. Grand. I still didn’t get a hand on the tiller! In the distance out past a beacon marking the Grain power plant sea discharges (Gas powered plants…), I spotted a black ‘mass’ ahead. As we tracked closer It was clear that this was a rather large and angular chunk of flotsam, and of some length. There were bits of it beneath the water … it looked like a bit of ‘barge’ to me! We’ve had some high tides and stuff not afloat for many months, if not longer, has probably floated free.

I called up Medway VTS and reported the danger. The length was about the same as Whimbrel’s, so at least seven metres…

The response that came over the radio was, I would say, disinterested … I expected more. Later another vessel reported what we had seen. No work boat was seen to leave the Camber – where port boats and RNLI boat live – in the time it took us to creep towards and eventually past the Queenborough Spit buoy.

I later contacted The Medway & Swale Boating Association after placing a comment on a post about new conservancy charges (Known as the ‘Peel Tax’ – after Peel Ports, the river’s operators) and in response Tony Lavelle wrote:

Thank you for the information and photos. That long floating log might have been the one that used to be near the rowing club at Rochester . It came adrift some time ago and I thought it had been retrieved.

At our recent AGM I had a conversation with Stephen Balmain who was representing Peel Ports. He used to be on the VTS team before it moved to Liverpool .

 They used to have their own work boats but now they have subcontracted to Briggs Marine. Though we had been assured at a previous MSBA meeting that 8 rubbish clearance sorties had been completed, Stephen confirmed that none of these went above Halling! The build-up of debris in the upper reaches from Snodland to Allington is quite hazardous to navigation.

I don’t think it was anything to do with Rochester Rowing Club’s loss…

Sailing into the River Medway.

Photograph taken at same time … sun is setting and my helm is in silhouette… 

It was grand to be sailing rather than listening to the ‘growl’ of the diesel beneath the cockpit floor. We were making 2 + knots at times over the young ebb and both felt disinclined to hurry things along. The sun had set by then, but the sky, being clear, kept us lit up. I lit the cabin heater for a chill had set in.

Andrew took us down the eastern line of moorings, at my prompting, and we fetched close to the wind past the old jetty beacons. A mooring line was ready prepared … halyards cast onto the deck…

Down the line … all ready for a buoy pick-up off the pontoon ahead…

Hooray! I managed to wheedle the tiller from my crew’s hands for the final run into the buoy … I’m sure he wanted to have a go … but with a deft snatch he had the buoys mooring eye captured and I went forward to drop sails…

Below, we soon had another pot of tea to hand with a hunk of cake – Paul, it was a moist wedge of my 2017 Christmas cake saved for a ‘rainy day’ and it was divine! During this period I set to and got the makings of our supper on the go. Our plan was to go ashore for a couple of jars and return later, which we duly did. I have to say, both of us like pickled eggs and two each of those were enjoyed with crisps as a ‘starter’, plus of course some tasty beer – all at The Admiral’s Arm.

Moments before sunrise…

We had a quiet night, apart from a coaster slipping through the moorings and a couple of fishing craft – leaving noisily. My first job was to get the heater on, then the kettle. My crew remained asleep, seemingly! It was a spectacular sunrise. There was a gentle breeze from the south-east still.

The sun appeared in glorious brightness…

Breakfast finished, all was cleared away for a leisurely sail off the mooring just before the tide turned. The previous evening I left ‘our’ mooring fee in the box for the harbour trust, as directed and expected. Many don’t bother, I have been told, but many ‘boaters’ don’t. What they don’t appreciate is that you’re on camera, never mind the fact that it is essentially stealing!

Clearing the harbour, we enjoyed a sparkling sail clear of the Medway and then across to the Phoenix unit off the West Shoebury Buoy. This bit of WW2 wreckage is often described as ‘The Mulberry Harbour’ which of course it clearly can’t be: the harbours (their remains) are over on the French beaches. Many people don’t realise that the harbours were made up from hundreds of the Phoenix Units and other parts!

I was still ‘tea boy’…

A spanking sail across the Thames…

Goose-winged, running westwards towards Southend Pier…

After entering the Ray and clearing the tricky shallows now in ‘residence’ there, we rounded up and dumped the mainsail and ran on under jib. Over on the Ray sand bank were around two-dozen seals, basking in the sunshine. The heads of some ‘youngsters’ were seen too sieving the shallows for a fishy lunch. It’ll be one of this lot which, surely, will follow me across the Leigh shallows as winter progresses when I’m out there – always a special sight. I think ‘they’ go for disturbed bottom fish as the boat passes…

‘My’ local seals…

Our creek was looming ahead, but we needed a further hour of flood to enter so a buoy was borrowed for the short while. I was ‘dispatched’ forward for this operation and I didn’t let my crew down! We stowed the sails and covered mainsail and hatches … then went below for some hot tomato soup!

My crew was having to hi-tail back to Cambridge: he was in charge of the evenings club row … he was ready dressed … he made it too!

Yes, we both had a grand time of it. These things are the sweeter at this time of the year – something to savour over a toddy later…

Thanks Andrew!

Links:

http://msba.org.uk/

http://www.admiralsarm.co.uk/

http://www.queenborough-harbour.co.uk

Some time ago, I seem to remember it was the spring, but can’t find anything in my files to substantiate this, I had an email from a chap who wanted some advice about selling his father’s Finesse. His dad had passed away leaving the boat to the family … I responded asking for various details saying that I could post on the Finesse facebook page and also on my blog … I didn’t get any further communication or thanks – this happens a lot!

I let the matter rest…

However, recently, up popped a Finesse 21 for sale in Gillingham – well she’s at the boatyard down along the Lower Rainham Road at Mariners Farm, which has use of one of the old barge wharves along that shoreline of the River Medway. Gillingham is ‘close by’…

See: http://www.marinersboatyard.co.uk/index.html

All pictures in this post are from Les Long, a Lower Halstow YC member and are used here with his permission. My thanks are profuse … I owe you a beer!

Georgina propped up and covered over.

I can’t even remember the name of the person who contacted, however, now that the boat is formally for sale at Clarke and Carter, I thought I’d investigate a little further: the boat seems to be in relatively good condition. The pictures jogged a distant memory for she’s a boat I remember seeing over a number of years on the river and I believe she was moored for a period in West Hoo Creek.

See also: https://www.theyachtmarket.com/boats_for_sale/1691041/

Here are a series of Les’s pictures:

The starboard bottom.

Port bilge with stub bilge keel – these are much shallower than those fitted to the ’24’.

Aft end…

Now, I understand that the boat’s cover shredded and she was ‘uncovered’ for a little while. A cockpit cover isn’t apparent, yet the cockpit is in a remarkably good condition. The boat has been out of the water for four to five years.

Cockpit forward bulkhead to starboard and companionway door (half of).

Engine controls.

Inside starboard locker – bilge pump. Note shredded cover material!

Fuel tank located beneath the poop deck inside locker.

Engine exhaust outlet elbow – note no dribbles!

Engine control lever, sited to port.

Gas locker.

This is the only view I was sent of the deck – being the poop. Some ‘green weed’ has grown … but is likely to be cosmetic. I am not able to say what the deck edges are like…

The engine is an older version one cylinder Yanmar. It looks as if it has suffered from ‘getting wet’. This is so easy to avoid by fitting an internal ‘lid’ over the engine as i have done on my own Finesse 24.

The journey now goes below where some damage due to water ingress will be seen around the forward end of the cabin top. This is probably due to corner beading to deck coming loose. Early lifting and resealing and refastening could have prevented this. She looks to be in generally good health apart from that problem though.

Electrical control panel.

Bilge in way of the centre plate case in main cabin.

Further bilge view… Water will be fresh! It hasn’t leaked out, but fresh isn’t good inside a wooden boat!

The starboard berth looking forward.

‘Galley’ arrangements – simple and probably suited to craft.

Looking into the fore cabin – it would appear that a berth could be made to port. Note loo to starboard.

The loo…

Note discolouration of forward face of coach roof side. Whether or not this is still a problem, only an inspection will say.

Well thought out forward storage. Chain locker is in here too.

Cabin side (inside). 

The boat is cutter built, but not rigged as such. She seems to have a single roller headsail set to her bowsprit. Spars are wooden. Condition – unknown.

Looking up the mast…

I am told that her hull/sail number is 41 – this fits with her build date of 1966.

Full details of the vessel and such are on the two web sites mentioned. From the pictures I have seen of her she is certainly worth looking at. Nothing seems bad, although the forward leak needs attending to, and the boat looks ‘sound’. The price of £2,500 is pitched for her to go, but I wouldn’t be surprised if an offer wasn’t accepted: it is costing to keep her there!

Go on…

And, during the late spring of 2019, someone did … the boat’s life, for the time being, has been secured.

As a distraction we jumped on a train last week and went to Barking … mad? No, we’d enjoyed a talk at the Essex Record Office History Group earlier this autumn and placed ‘a must do’ in the diary. The talk was about Eastbury Manor which is situated in the centre of Barking a little to the east of the church and abbey remains which are nearer the mainline station.

The visit certainly had a ‘nautical’ interest…

Eastbury Manor was built in the mid 1500’s after Henry VIII pulled down the abbey and confiscated all abbey lands. The land was broken up and sold off … Eastbury Manor became the centre of several farms with lands extending down to the Thames along Barking and Halfway Reaches. The manor enjoyed close access to a waterway which ran into Barking Creek (River Roding), this was Mayes Brook – it has been rerouted over the centuries, but comes out more or less in same place through a sluice. The waterway here to the east was a large shallow lagoon called the Rant. Its ‘basin’ is probably the same which filled during the infamous ‘Dagenham Breach’ in 1707. A pool still remains by the Ford Works here on the river’s shores.

Map of area – section from NT display.

Produce was shipped out via the waterway passing the manor close by. This was rerouted at some point during remodeling of the manors grounds, removing a convoluted loop. It is reputed that some of the infamous men involved with ‘The Guy Fawkes’ plot came here by water. One of the men’s sister was married to a ‘Lord’ who was apparently tipped off by someone still unknown and had the under-crofts of the Houses of Parliament inspected.. I was interested for it was up the creek we sailed in Whimbrel a few seasons ago when I was writing ‘Rochester to Richmond‘…

A straight on view of the manor house.

The house now sits in the midst of a ‘council’ estate and is completely hemmed in … this happened between the two world conflicts during the 1920s. The house was one of the earliest purchases by the organisation which ultimately became the National Trust. But, the house was let out for other purposes including use as a museum. The Trust has at long last realised that it isn’t only the large estates outside conurbations that need to be ‘visit friendly’. They’ve also done this with a house in Rainham.

One of the upper rooms.

The ‘painted room’ a rarity…

Much of the house isn’t furnished other than sparingly, yet, some of the rooms have survived as 1600s artifacts whilst others are as found and date from a refurbishment soon after 1900, when only part of the house was used as such. the building was largely a ‘barn’ for a long time! Also, it was once owned by the Whitbread family and used for compressed animal feeds used by shipping – for a period up to around 1800. The ‘beer’ family – I couldn’t find out.

There is a lot to see and take in. It is very much a worthwhile exercise…

Leaving the manor we headed back towards the town centre and the old dock area. An old tide mill building still stands at the inner end of the dock. Its driving wheel is lang gone. It was until recently a card factory, but is up for sale.

The mill building…

At this top end there are two runs of water from the river inland – there would have been a sluice… Between the two river runs is an island. The road along here has street lamps of some note. The tops are made of fretwork with different designs. There is NO information, but from what we could deduce they depict Barking through time. Around a viewing/seating area on the island are some railing too of interest. The back supports have the names of vessels in a fretwork design. One caught my eye: it is a barge name – the Magnet … probably a coaster of more recent times, but who knows!

P.S. The Magnet’s remains are just above Rochester M2/Rail bridges immediately downstream of a wharf on the ‘south’ side.

Note the lamp posts…

Vessel names in fret work supports…

Looking down the dock, which is currently largely clear of vessels (N.B. Google earth shows it to be full of ‘live-aboards’) except for a brace below a ‘waste’ wharf and a sunken something in the middle of the basin, and a number down the ‘town’ side.

The basin.

Across the road from a huge open space – Abbey Fields – abutting the basin are a mix of flats and offices. Our ‘boy’ worked here some years ago when with the Malaysian International Shipping Corporation! But what caught my eye was a ‘dinghy’ embalmed in a piece of ‘ice’ – the adjacent building is called The Ice House! Clearly this was a place for the importation of ice long ago…

What a waste of a dinghy, was my reaction…

An ice embalmed dinghy … and bench!

Time soon traveled on and at this late time of the year, dusk comes early. It hadn’t been much of a bright day in any case, so we began to wend our way homewards, looking at the church and abbey footings on the way.

St Margaret’s Church. It was closed unfortunately – we missed it by five minutes… Didn’t check web site!

Amazingly, the abbey’s footings have survived. The ‘ground’ would have been more or less the floor of the under-crofts.

On some plaques fixed to the abbey gate house, still standing, was a piece of interesting information – Captain Cook married his wife here in 1762. His wife, Elizabeth, was the daughter of the Bell Inn, Wapping owned by Samuel Batts and one of Cook’s benefactors. Cook had moved from the mercantile marine to the Royal Navy in 1755 at Wapping. Amazing how the ‘sea’ connections pop up!

Of the visit, we both thought the lack of information around the dock basin and mill area to be sad. So many places have such boards sited to give just that little bit of information which you can later chew over and investigate further if so desirous. And, for me, I thought the dock to be a much wasted asset, however, since the building of a relatively low level bridge over the creek a little below the docks sluices and gates, masted craft cannot access unless mast can be lowered … how often is this seen these days? Lots!

Now, if you’d like to go, the manor is on the National Trust list – so, enjoy…

‘My’ section from Streetmap.com of the area covered.

P.S. It wasn’t a day for sailing, never mind that the tides were early morning and late afternoon/evening, so I wasn’t missing out!

Sometimes it is necessary to do a spot of maintenance on the dinghy. On the whole this tends to be done during the April to June period in between ensuring that Whimbrel is more or less up to scratch. But due to the possibility that I might not be feeling ‘on top of the world’ in the spring, what with brachiotherapy and radio treatments going on I thought that due to weather conditions – either a lack of wind or too much, I’d get on with it…

On the way down the Thames in August I ripped off the forward keel runner on the dinghy – ‘we’ were dragging it above the tide line on the hard at Greenhithe. The problem was that a couple of the screws had suffered wear … and one last pull caused it to bend back. Fortunately I was able to remove the section without tools! Upon reaching our home berth some days later it was temporarily fixed…

Refastening the forward keel runner. 

Part of my problem was that when I did this job some many years ago I didn’t have a bench drill to drill the piece of stainless steel properly I’d purchased to face the strip of timber bonded to boat’s keel. Hard concrete and shingle hards soon took their toll on the glass fibre. The dinghy is now twenty-five years old. When purchased, it has proved to have been the finest £1200 pounds spent. She has given umpteen hours of joy when away cruising and when being sailed around my local area of saltings. Many of Whimbrel’s crews have shared those joys too.

Preparing to refasten the aft section.

The hole on both lengths were re-drilled with deeper countersinking to take slightly larger screws.

Job nearing completion…

The sail was removed from its boom and gaff and washed in the washing machine at low temperature using a hand wash soap … it seems to have come out looking much better … softer after the removal of salt!

The washed sail…

Sail dried and folded awaiting an airing afloat…

In the meantime the boom, gaff and tiller were all sanded and varnished. The two spars were in need of stripping back in fairly large areas … the re-coating is still on going. Mena while the house is suffering from ‘fumes’ and I’m sure many a boater has done these jobs in the warmth of a conservatory. I’ve know bedrooms and kitchens to be used too!

Spars prepped for varnishing…

My next job is to strip the floor board system’s central timber. The floor boards I tend to leave as ‘bare’ wood – they’re made from larch. Following this I am ‘programmed’ to sand the dinghy’s interior and give it a coat of grey bilge paint. It is flaking a little in places.

Meanwhile, the winds are about to pop up to the 50+ mph level, again, so I’ve time enough to get these jobs finished…

I’m sure the summer-time crews who sail aboard Whimbrel will appreciate Twitch (The dinghy’s name) being prettily dressed for them in 2019!

This post is dedicated to John, who after some thought, has booked a PSA blood test – well done John…

Having had a spot of inclement weather and being away visiting family for a weekend the level of autumn sailing was beginning to trail away with the season, so, with two days of good forecasts I made sure they were grabbed with open arms. I was itching to get afloat!

Christobel was other-wise engaged meeting pals and nattering over coffee … but she had enjoyed a sail out the week before.

Outside the creek, well, before reaching that point, the gentle yet harsh ‘craarks’ of Brent were heard, and in amongst the stands of cord grass a host of them were paddling about looking for grub. I’m always pleased to see these little geese feeding healthily on the areas abundant autumn gift – eel grass. When that has all been ‘scoffed’ they’ll be away inside the sea walls along under Hadleigh’s downs cropping the succulent tops of winter cereals. As if to taunt me, two grebe popped up over the shallows – I grabbed the camera … but before I could focus in, they’d gone under to search for food. Lovely little things … and their larger cousins will be around too, surely.

Upon leaving Smallgains Creek, I set a path towards Benfleet with intentions to turn at some undetermined point … it being set by the light levels.

So, whilst reaching towards Two Tree Island’s hard I came across a group of Essex Fire Brigade personnel carrying out an exercise – all very interesting. Leaving them behind and turning to head ‘westwards’ up Hadleigh Ray towards Benfleet, it was apparent that long and short tacks were needed.

Essex Fire Brigade in training…

Oh, it was such a glorious afternoon. The tide was a neap (5.3 m) but as I float at around 4.4 m, I had plenty of time and tide. Darkness would be my barrier (although for a passage, obviously not!). Above there were a few ‘puff-ball’ clouds like handfuls of cotton wool and some aircraft trails, but a blueness filled the rest. I was wearing a coat, but it was unzipped over late summer early autumn garb.

Bird Island

Passing Bird Island, the scene of several escapades by boats heading upstream to lay up, I watched open mouthed as a huge flock of brent, duck (Widgeon??) and waders took off. many just circled and came back, realising the red sailed apparition coasting by wasn’t a threat! I stood, feet apart, tiller held by my bottom and sent my good Mate a text … Christobel has always appreciated this, especially if over a lunch period when still teaching…

The mud level of Bird Island is rising. Passing recently, I realised it wasn’t properly covering until almost 5 m tide at Southend (as given by VTS). Surely, it can’t be long before the first sprouts of cord grass and glasswort appear after the spring neaps – the seeds of these plants need around 72 hours out of the tide to germinate and take root. The tide is well into the base of the cord grass in the marshes close by on Marks Marsh Island, and Two Tree Island further to the north.

Benfleet Creek’s wreck…

I was fairly clipping along, but after passing the gnarled posts of the abandoned Salvation Army wharf I felt the boat’s speed drop. The wind was fading. Some weeks ago the abandoned yacht sitting up on the mainland sea wall saltings ‘lost’ its mast – well it has come down, probably due to bits being taken, or vandalism. I have been somewhat surprised that the thing has been left. The higher tides move her around a bit and being GRP, she will not quietly fade in time. Responsibility: owner – unlikely for it would surely have been removed; PLA – possibly, but not a hazard; it is more likely to be Castle Point for it sits on ‘their’ land!

A shadow upon the land…

A long shadow was being cast along the bank of the seawall as I ghosted close to before tacking every now and then. The sun was rapidly falling … ‘how far should I go,’ I mused… It was more the dying breeze that made the decision. In amongst the buoys of Benfleet Yacht Club’s lower moorings, I turned and began to reach away eastward. In this direction the true blueness that pervaded above was accentuated by the setting sun.

A welcome mug of tea after making my turn…

Passing Two Tree Island, I took two photographs – towards the sun and away from it.

Towards the setting sun…

Away over Two Tree Island…

All around me flocks of birds were airborne. Several large gatherings of little egret sailed past high over the mast top, heading west up the creek towards rich pickings amongst the wide swath of saltings along the Canvey island side. A dark waft weaved around too – waders, dunlin and knot surely – dancing across the sky. A flight of small duck (wigeon?) flew fast and straight past the boat’s stern…

I watched enthralled by it all…

A waft of waders…

All too soon, I realised, I was nearing the entrance to Smallgains Creek. Time to set the fenders … a test reach showed that there was insufficient slant to reach home under sail … I dropped the sails and motor in astern of another intrepid sailor ‘Old Jack’ who has sailed these waters since a young boy in the late 1930s.

The sun was setting … it was time to head in.

Approaching the mooring…

Once moored, the boat was ‘stabled’ for the night: tomorrow, I promised her, She’d enjoy another little jaunt…

The moon reflected amongst stands of cord grass… 

The next afternoon …

Christobel was otherwise engaged again, so, I beetled back down to Whimbrel in good time to get all set before the boat floated. Before that though I offered a hand to a small group looking at a bit of jetty damage caused by the club’s new work boat settling into her berth … she’s somewhat larger than the previous model and has let everyone know – breaking a post! They were okay and weren’t planning to do anything until the boat had floated, so I left them to it…

My view as I sat, mug of tea in hand, awaiting the tide… 

While i waited for the tide I sanded a couple of bits of varnish that were looking for attention – a coat over with the finger tip would keep it good until the spring – and listed a couple of items for 2019’s work list…

Ah, the tide slowly rose. It was due to be a 5.0 m (Southend). I got away, all sail set, as soon as Whimbrel picked up, churning the water around in a muddy froth. The sails bit and we were away, the engine silenced…

I nipped forward to take this gorgeous shot…

This second sail was going to be shorter (But I still had nearly an and a half out) than the previous day, so I went ‘east’. If anything the sky was even more brilliant – why? Don’t know – atmospherics? Out in the open the only sound that pervaded apart from the occasional slating of a sail was ‘gulls’. The water had flocks of them resting, squawking at one another and others in an apparent snooze state.

Looking aft … I thought of all those seafarers of WW1 (especially) and since, who had perished in last centuries tragic carnage’s.

In memory of lost sailors…

I was on a reach. Far away I could see Chalkwell Station and the beach running to the Crowstone off Westcliff. Away over on the Leigh-on-Sea shore the sun kept reflecting on window after window as my and the sun’s position moved across the globe – small as my part was, it was fascinating.

Bright ‘eyes’ in Leigh…

The setting sun…

I turned before the sun actually hit the distant horizon and when I did I was captivated by the intensiveness of the colours that began to emanate around me. Astern, eastward, wafts of high cloud and jet vapours were going ‘purple’…

The estuary sky…

Entering the outer creek it was clear that the wind had stayed favourable … I continued onward, allowing the boat to sail herself whilst fenders were tied off …

Inside, the wind was faltering, as it does, but I had enough. It was just after high tide with no run as such. Every now and then the sails slatted, the jib especially as the land blanketed us … she had way enough…

Across the saltings curlews called now and then. Oyster catchers cried at one another and settled. Night was falling steadily. A chill too had grown, ‘surely the balmy days of this autumn will come crashing down soon,’ I thought … it has been a fantastic year for sailing (boating) in this corner of England.

Well inside…

Closing Whimbrel’s mooring…

… slipping in…

Boy I enjoyed that and was in a ‘singing’ state as I bagged up the jib and covered over the mainsail. As I left, I patted the ‘old’ girl and said, ‘… thank you…’ taking a wistful look back as I left her alone… When will the next sail be – with my mate Christobel, hopefully!

The two late afternoon sails were a piece of supreme autumn bliss, years down the line, I will remember them with a deep fondness.

A dead calm amongst the Island Yacht Club’s moorings…

Apparently, I arrived home with a BIG grin on my face – I wonder why!

Message for Brian Ingram – recontact me: your email contact details aren’t connecting back to you…

best wishes,

Nick

Do you remember my blog back in the summer about ‘the deadly snake that wants to bite’? If not read…

If so, and a man of fifty or over, have you been tested yet?

More men are dying of prostate cancer than women of breast cancer, and in the press you’ll not hear a single beep.

See: http://nickardley.com/ditch-crawlers-warning-to-all-men-prostate-cancer-the-deadly-snake-that-wants-to-bite/

It is no laughing matter for many GP surgeries are not in the business of warning men about this danger or, even, sending men for a prostate specific antigen (PSA) tests. NHS England recommend or wish to instate routine testing from the age of fifty (Ref: BBC Radio 4 interview NHS England and John Humphreys). This being so, why aren’t ‘they’ ordered to comply. The initial test is an inexpensive blood test. Long term costs of a late diagnosis are severe, to NHS and to life expectancy…

I wish I’d dreamt of asking earlier…

Whimbrel snapped recently by Dick Smith, up Benfleet Creek…

Once I began my course of medication in the form of hormone tablets, we got away for an uninterrupted few weeks in August before I took my brother (over from Canada) and my sister for a few days sailing (the siblings’ sail)  – actually a dash to Pin Mill and back via the Swale.

Since then, I have kept active, lost a little weight and generally had a ‘good’ time with my dear wife Christobel (Who will tell me off: ‘I’m the Mate’ she’ll say!). Sailing was curtailed during the hectic days of June and July, it being snatched between appointments at hospital. The autumn has been sublime and we had several weekends away during September and other days sailing on the tide together and I’ve had a few more. I still harbour a desire to sneak away for a night or two over on the River Medway, but weather will dictate that – my youngest brother wants to come!

All along, in the back of my mind has been the knowledge that the next visit to see ‘my’ oncologist loomed.

So, today was the day of my oncologist visit. The good news is that my PSA level has fallen from 13.6 to 2. The oncologist was very pleased.

He said,‘Your cancer has been arrested…’ And, in a rapid almost one sided discussion gave me (us) the ramifications of the next stage … due to start at the beginning of March.

This will be Brachyherapy first, followed by five weeks of external beam radio therapy – seven weeks in all – all over by Easter 2019!

So, I should be fit and well to help my good Mate get Whimbrel’s bottom tickled up and the anti-fouling done during May!

Currently, the good news is that other than an enormous heavy tiredness at times, I haven’t experienced any noticeable side effects … yes I was asked by the oncologist how our marital relationship was going … the Mate quipped, ‘He’s alright in that department, it’s his single cell brain I’m worried about…’

Laughing, the Doc said, ‘That’s good…’

Tiredness … sometimes I will be ‘sent to the bedroom’ by Christobel, but often sleep is far away, but the rest works … other times, I have gone out for up to three hours. (P.S. – it’s better when ‘she’ comes with me…)

My dear sweet sister kindly photographed me asleep on Whimbrel, after being ‘sent to bed’ during our siblings’ cruise … she took my glasses off afterwards!

So, I keep on taking the tablets, stay fit, stay positive and keep smiling…

Now, wives and partners of your men-folk: be pro-active. Withhold all favours until your man gets his test booked.

A number of men I know have done so – many had heightened PSA levels with fairly long term ‘peeing’ problems they’d been ignoring (I had none of this). All of them have been given the all clear regarding prostate cancer, but several have other issues to be treated.

So, do your families a favour and do something positive, please…

On our way back from Cornwall last week we stopped off for a couple of days at Dorchester … but our arrival was interrupted by a small detour into Topsham. Why? Well, the spritsail barge Vigilant sits by the town’s wharf being rebuilt.

The Vigilant, the subject of a lovely little book, ‘Sailorman’ by E. G. Martin and published in 1933, came down from Essex (St Osyth) where she had ‘festered for some years becoming more and more dilapidated as time rolled by. Then came a saviour from Topsham … and, away she went under her own engine with shuttering boards fixed over the leaky bits…

The starboard bow of the  Vigilant looking all but completed…

I photographed her on a visit a few years ago when the gear hung onto temporary fixings whilst side planking and frames were being renewed. Then, the hull had open areas awaiting new planks. Now she has apparently had all that finished. However, much still needs doing.

Here are some pictures.

Port bow, looking down side.

Port side of the Vigilant.

I then moved round the starboard side, the side to which she sits against the quay. I was immediately struck by the strange curvature to her body: this was, and should be, a shapely barge. She looks horribly hogged.

A gaze down the starboard side of the Vigilant.

An old section of her rail – new rail is made up of two sections, one above the other…

If you study this plate below it can be seen that the stern drops away with a ‘hump’ in way of the main sheet chock area. The covering board has a join here and it looked as if movement is taking place…

Starboard aft quarter…

Vigilant’s transom…

Vigilant’s new transom has been varnished in the fashion of Marjorie’s. Looking closely at the runs into the stern post it is clear that her bottom planking needs attention. For this a drydock will be needed. The barge’s hull reminded me so much of the way the May Flower went during the last decade or so of her life. (For those that don’t know – my childhood home)

Temporary bolts could be seen at both the fore and aft ends fastening new frames to planking needing renewal.

The project has an information board to ‘educate’ those that come to stop and stare: a spritsail barge was a rarity in these waters even in the days of trade. What hit me was the huge mistake over the Vigilant’s displacement. The barge was built by Orvis & Fuller of Ipswich in 1904 and is 74 NRT. She would have loaded 150 – 170 tons. Her light displacement will be around 140 – 150 tons, yet the information board records her as being only 4 tons!

Vigilant’s information board.

There wasn’t anyone around during my visit so I couldn’t challenge this displacement … or to discuss such things as ‘plans’ for her future. I do know that the crew of EDME are reported to have given an undertaking to show the owners how to sail her when completed … the basis of this only being hearsay!

I wish them well: a private rebuild is rare these days.

While my wife and I were down in Cornwall on holiday – a NO BOATS holiday – I just happened to fall through the gates of the Rhoda Mary Shipyard down stream in Truro.

Now, the Rhoda Mary is a vessel I was quite intimate with as a youngster: with my older sibling, I would play around in her hull … probably without ‘mothers’ knowledge … the vessel had been hulked on the Hoo mud flats on the River Medway some years before.

My father aboard the Rhoda Mary in 1951. (Pic – Ardley family archive)

One of the ship’s anchors was removed and was used for one of the spritsail barge May Flower’s moorings (my chidlhood home). The anchor is now ‘lost’ for it is out on the mud flats off Callows Wharf up the top end of Milfordhope Creek. It’ll be sitting deep below lots of cord grass now…

My father also had some timber out of the old ship for use on May Flower!

The Rhoda Mary Trust was set up some years ago with the intention of providing a sail training vessel for Cornwall … plan were made to dig out the remains of the vessel on Hoo mud flats and rebuild her. The Rhoda Mary is the last of the ‘Cornish’ fruit schooners – fast vessels that brought fresh (citrus) fruit to England. To my mind she should be left in peace … a new vessel is the real answer: it is the rig and how it is used in the manner of her historical context which can be preserved.

The yard is the planned place … will it happen. Who really knows. Money will sit at the core.

Anyway, my good wife had a book to hand, so all was well!

A general view of the shipyard with a new vessel under construction.

Alongside the quay, where one day the current build project will soon be floating, rested an earlier vessel from the master builder Like Powell – the lynch-pin of this enterprise. The vessel, a small pilot cutter, Agnes, is something that is fulfilling to look at. She just hums with power and purpose – she twinkled in the light of an appearing sun…

The Agnes…

I took various shots to fulfill my desire to record: my chances of seeing her again are slight!

View from the bow.

Her ‘stern sheets’…

Deck view…

Now, my visit was to see the new vessel under construction up on the yards large open space – much filled with seasoning timber. The vessel is a faithful copy of a vessel built in 1852 – the Vincent. The new vessel has been named as the Pellew after a famous frigate captain, Edward Pellew who was a resident of Flushing (Cornwall).

Bottom of access and wood stack around the Pellew’s bow.

Mounting a set of stairs after being unable to find anyone ‘below’ I stepped upon the decks of this fine new build. Ones breath is taken away by the sheer size (not as big as a Thames barge…) and for me, the beauty of the workmanship going on. It hits you full on.

A look aft before stepping aboard…

A look forward too…

A radio was playing some kind of ‘modern’ music – a phenomenal ‘ghetto blaster’ – I called several times. No response. I could hear work going on below in at least two places. After a final call – I knocked. Ah, simple. One bit of noise stopped and a face appeared. This turned out to be shipwright Ned.

Explaining my desire to look over this fine new build, Ned, said, ‘…use that ladder … be careful and enjoy.’ at which he left me to my own devices. There follows a raft of views from below…

In main cabin looking aft towards door to ‘cuddy’…

In the aft cabin (cuddy?) I came upon a worker hard at it within the port bunk cubicle … her face appeared full of surprise … then got straight back to work!

Looking through forward cabin area into fo’c’sle 

Intermediate space between fore and  main areas with mast step.

Main cabin with some battens setting out ‘furniture’…

At this point I returned to the deck and took a closer look… The finish to bulwark capping, hatches and other areas essentially completed was seen to be superb. This is clearly not just a re-creation, but a work of art.

General view looking aft.

General view looking forward.

One of the cabin tops nearing completion awaiting its ‘furniture’…

This hatchway seemed to hint at the ability to load stuff through … I wasn’t able to ask about this! It clearly looks as if a ‘lid’ is to be fitted.

A less ‘yachty’ hatchway…

The rudder trunk…

I had to drag myself back to ground level, so mesmerised was I by what was being seen. I had a wander around the hull past the work bench areas with their ready to hand stacks of =off-cuts ready for that little job as things progress to a finishing stage.

The aft end of the Pellew.

Work bench area … not sure what the ladies on the team think about the calendar!

Mast and another spar in final shaping.

Rough-cut pieces ready for final shaping to make up gaff and boom jaws.

Further view of the mast. It is of massive section.

Reluctantly I made my way to the car and my waiting wife. She was fine: she’d brought a book along, knowing what I intended! As I drove out of the yard gates, I cast a wistful look out of the side window, picturing the Pellew afloat, mast at a cocky angle, sails bent on ready for her first passage…

Before my visit I had become aware that Luke Powell and his partner Joanna had purchased a ‘famous’ east coast boat, the Whitstable smack Stormy Petrel which had for many years – around sixty – been owned by Dick Norris. Dick had, as we all will, got old and had reluctantly sold his beloved vessel. Stormy Petrel was once owned by the renowned bargeman and sailor, Bob Roberts. Bob had her during the latter part of the 1940s selling her in the 1950s. Stormy Petrel transported family and belongings to Pin Mill when Bob decamped ‘north’.

So, this famed little ship will ‘go west’, perhaps never to return.

Some years ago I met the ‘Petrel‘ tacking in a stiff breeze up Pinup Reach just below Gillingham where Dick Norris had kept her for probably all his ownership. Dick knew my parents well from the 1950s onward, meeting out on the water – the May Flower and Stormy Petrel – both things of a past age.

Stormy Petrel reefed down and going well…

Stormy Petrel tacking … note the long foot to the foresail.

The Stormy Petrel is currently at Faversham at Chamber’s Wharf near Alan Staley’s yard.

In brief, Luke Powell has had an interesting life. Born in Suffolk he ended up in the Greek Isles before eventually pitching up in Faversham (Kent), worked on Thames spritsail barges before he trained as a shipwright.

Look after this piece of Kentish history in Cornwall, Luke: we’ll all miss her up here…

For more info see: http://thefalmouthpilotcutter.co.uk/the-rhoda-mary-ship-yard/

and,  http://www.rhoda-mary.co.uk/