Between coming home from our summer cruising and the beginning of September, I took my oldest brother (‘home’ from Canada for a few weeks) and my sister away for a flying trip up to Pin Mill and back – but that’s another story.

So, after we had seen ‘big bro’ off to the airport, my wife and I went away for a few days together – we often do this at this time of the year – the ‘going back to school’ period –  and it is a great to be away, especially for the Mate: she was a school teacher, in her past life! We departed from our moorings on Canvey Island with a light easterly breeze and soon found we needed some assistance from our diesel out in the Thames fairway to ‘crack’ the last of the flood. Once heading in a southerly direction round and across the Grain flats, Whimbrel’s sails were spread and we wafted over the young ebb on a gathering sea breeze.

Running into the Medway over a rippled sparkling surface…

Christobel, having had a trick at the helm, left me to it, feeding me tea as and when, reading and completing the Times ‘junior’ crossword. Her forte is the word square!

Relaxed sailing…

With such a nice breeze on a sunny afternoon I thought about running on up to Upnor, but we decided to continue to plan and anchor somewhere in Stangate. Ultimately we dropped the hook in Funton Creek – a nice little spot.

During the latter part of the afternoon I pottered off in the dinghy for a walk along the tidal shore of Chetney Island. I’d spotted bricks and some crumbling brickwork from the boat, albeit seen before, and wanted an updated look. The island was briefly used as a quarantine station in the late 1800s, however, it proved to be as uneffective as ‘marooning people aboard ships: it was damp and the air was alive with mosquitoes! The expensive buildings were abandoned within a year. Whether or not these remains are part of the hospital, I currently do not know.

Loose bricks and masonry chunks on Chetney’s beach.

I have heard through a contact that a survey of the island was due to be carried out to record what was left behind after the debacle … it’ll filter my way at some point, surely! Whilst walking the tide line I came across a chunk of ‘barge’. It had clearly come from the aft end of the spritsail barge Westmoreland which has resided in a lighter up Lower Halstow Creek for a few years. The lighter sank last year and the barge’s aft end ‘floated away’ leaving a trail of debris scattered around the neighbourhood. Her transom and stern frame are out there somewhere…

Section of covering board and transom knee from starboard quarter of the Westmoreland.

It was a glorious evening in the creek. The mud flats and shell ‘humps’ that fill over half of the creek at low water were alive with waders and serenaded our pre-supper tipples … later serenading us to sleep.

The sunset seemed to mark a weather change…

We awoke to a grey day with little in the way of a breeze. It wasn’t cold, but a decided chill was apparent for the first time for many weeks. Various little jobs were attended to as well as periods of reading. I also had a sail up into Bedlams Bottom until I ran out of water. It is surprising how far one can get even towards low water.

Another boat had been in the anchorage when we’d arrived and she quietly left during the morning. At the foot of Stangate a flotilla of craft arrived one by one and all moored to one anchored yacht. It was a group from the Gillingham Cruising Club. It was some raft up … but after lunch time, as the tide began to seriously make, all departed … a ‘boys’ day out!

Whimbrel from the dinghy on that grey day…

Later in the afternoon it brightened and as we’d planned to move anchorage to Sharfleet, we did this via a sail up into Lower Halstow. After grounding on the last leg towards the dock we turned and sailed away … fetching up along the mud edge under the southern shore of Burntwick Island- in the bay. A big yacht followed us in. The helm seemingly glared as ‘he’ passed, did a couple of circuits, before motoring away. ‘What was that all about?’ I said to my Mate. I was left wondering if we’d just anchored in ‘their’ charted spot…

On the way into Lower Halstow, I took a few pictures of the Westmoreland, now dried out again after around six months of twice daily soakings. Her hull is now mud coloured… What’s to happen to her: perhaps it is time to lay her to rest as no funding has been found to support a rebuild – the last of the specifically built brickies…

The sad looking Westmoreland in her floating dock…

And into Lower Halstow…

We ‘enjoyed’ a dose of rain overnight and it was still drizzling when we needed to set off for home. So, for only the second time this ‘summer’ we donned oilies, however it soon brightened into a reasonably pleasant day.

Christobel mans the helm whilst I make coffee…

Whilst waiting for the tide and clearing the boat up, a sailing canoe came wafting up the Ray in the stiffish breeze manned by two chaps. One was sitting out and moving to the gusts … and they reminded me of the joys of mid-week sailing as a member of the retired community. We had seen several dozed craft over our few days – it was great. So many people say, ‘Oh the weather was bad … we’ve had bags of wind this year…’ (have we??) or, ‘… I couldn’t be bothered…’ I wonder sometimes…

A sailing canoe reveling in the conditions…

Our next sail was to be a group sail of three Finesse 24’s from the Island Yacht Club. Unfortunately, one skipper got himself a very nasty chest infection resulting in a course of antibiotics, so the group was reduced to two boat – no matter we were intent on a good time, weather permitting. It had been windy leading up to the weekend and another period showed late on the Sunday … we had to be home for Sunday as Christobel was due for a visit to our local eye hospital for a cataract to be removed, so all plans revolved round that need.

Being able to break clear of our moorings earlier than the other boat, we waited awhile and departed virtually together. There was a bit of a breeze, probably more than stated, but Whimbrel reveled under working sail. The other Finesse 24 was Calluna of Dorset. The cutter rigged Calluna only set her staysail forward too and we roped across the Thames more or less keeping station. For some reason, after hardening to sail directly across the Grain flats inside the Grain Tower, Calluna fell astern … even though we as usual had out dinghy, Twitch, pacifically trundling along astern.

Calluna sets sail astern of Whimbrel…

Over ‘The Grain’ towards Queenborough with a bone in her teeth…

It was a grand sail and had we left when first afloat we’d have arrived on high water, however the tide was still flowing south as we moored to an arranged mooring buoy. No sooner had we got our fenders out and Calluna slipped alongside … just in time to share our pot of tea. Calluna’s mate quickly dished out some delightful tea bread, homemade of course!

Tea finished, drinks were served aboard Whimbrel, and with offerings from our friends we had a happy 3/4 of an hour … the boatman came twice for us. I think it had something to do with my mate: she’d dished him up a scone stuffed with berry jam when dealing with fees … he said he’d only come to check and natter and sit against too ladies. Hmmmmmm!

Finesse…

Eventually we went ashore … with me looking fondly back… Picture – Rob Hardy

Now, some while ago Christobel and I had a dire meal at the Flying Dutchman, however, it was decided amongst us that we would try again for their fish and chips have been good. In the event only one of us had the fried variety – we had skate – another had a ‘burger’ disk. All was good, but I remain unconvinced.

P.S. I have to say (Paul, out in New Zealand) I did ‘force’ (it was no effort) all and sundry into the Admiral’s Arm where a good pint was enjoyed, well two actually. Yes, and a pickled egg dropped into a bag of crisps…

Following our relatively early return to the boats, we all sat around Whimbrel’s cockpit drinking coffee and sipping some sloe gin which had a lovely bouquet, courtesy of Calluna’s crew.

Sunrise on Saturday…

The forecast for Sunday had had winds of force 6+, but initially the strong stuff was for Sunday evening, nicely placed for our trip, however the period moved into Sunday morning so it was decided to head home whilst it remained good. Shame: Conyer had been the plan… I think my companion sailors were a little disappointing, as I was … but a hospital appointment can’t be missed!

On the Saturday morning while Whimbrel was being tidied after breakfast, I slipped away for a turn around the harbour in Twitch. It provided an enjoyable interlude before preparing for our departures. The wind direction across the boats dictated that we slipped first. We dropped off and I soon had the mainsail hoisted, then Genoa – we were away. Calluna soon followed.

Two fair ladies resting in Queenborough…

The breeze was quite light initially, but soon began to increase – again beyond the stated forecast – and Whimbrel had about as much sail pressure as was needed. We hit 7 knots closing Southend Pier…

The buoy known as ‘Leigh’ at the entrance to the Ray Channel was moved about 200 metres to the east recently – this has caused a few boats to run aground when they thought their ‘normal’ approach was still good. We had to slip in a couple of tacks (before tacking all way up to Smallgains Creek) to get through the narrow bit. This, incidentally is by a non-existent buoy marked on my GPS! The channel is out exactly the width of the blue shown, being to the north. There is a hump of sand which has a sharp rise from several metres and can be clearly seen if sailing close … ah the joys eh!

Tacking up the Ray Channel, on a good fetch at the point photographed … beyond seal

We anchored off our creek and had a light snack for a good breakfast had been enjoyed that morning. Soon after berthing Calluna came in too, nosing into her berth … a short but lovely little outing. It was good to get out with fellow Finesse owners. Thanks Rob & Barbara, from us both. We missed you Gypsy! Next June we will have another go at getting two owners who have never been to Conyer.

A view looking into ‘wooden boat corner’ from the edge of what was named as ‘Canvey Heights’ some years ago when a ‘tip’ was made into a park space.

The two jaunts were full of contrast and it is that recipe which makes up the magical joys of estuary sailing…

Some time back in July we arrived home from sailing and The Mate wheeled the dinghy trolley down the hard as I drew up in the tender. We duly floated and pulled the tender onto its trolley and set off, laughing about something or other, up the slipway. We hadn’t gone far when all of a sudden the trolley tube broke in half on one side … we managed to keep it all together for the final run into our club’s dinghy pound. It had lasted a jolly long time!

Knowing that we were planning to go back out sailing in a few days I came down the next day and made a temporary repair to a broken join with a length of tubing – it is still in use after around five outings now … there is a reason for this, as you will glean…

Some years ago I purchased a shiny new trolley made of tubular steel. It was anodised. The u-frame lasted around 18 months! Fortunately I had kept an older trolley, why I don’t really know, but its galvanised u-frame was fit for further use and I was able to fit that to the newer wheel and axle unit.

In all that tubular u-frame lasted from 1980.

Into the future…

Dinghy trolley as advertised on the Anglesey Welding and Marine Supplies web site…

I had immediately looked on line at what was available on the market and placed my bets on a unit that looked robust, but more importantly, was constructed of galvanised steel. I ordered one direct from the manufacturers: Anglesey Welding and Marine Supplies Ltd.

It cost a total of £169.99, delivered.

I was feeling quite chuffed!

Then, a saga then began to unfold…

First of all, the trolley failed to arrive on the date on the delivery information I received from the company concerned with that side of things. I spent much time in trying to contact them too. It required log ins to do with the order – info I was not party to. It was impossible … I tried telephoning the manufacturer, Anglesey Welding and Marine Supplies, to no avail.

I had had a whole day utterly wasted. I was not amused.

After leaving telephone messages and also emailing numerous times in all, with a threat to cancel the order, I finally received a terse message from the proprietor, Mr Phil Beardmore, saying there had been problems. A new delivery date appeared in my email.

The new delivery date was a couple of days before we were due to go sailing … I was up to eyeballs (with The Mate) dealing with hospital appointments with specialists during this period too and just did not need the hassle.

I contacted Anglesey Welding and Marine Supplies Ltd yet again to say that we would be going away and asked that they inform the delivery firm that the package could be left down the side of the property. Our son was briefed and he was ‘programmed’ to remove it to a place of safety.

We went away. There was and has been NO further communication from Anglesey Welding and Marine Supplies Ltd.

I have kept the paper trail…

My paper trail…

The package duly arrived on a day after we had departed…

Upon returning home from a three week period away from home I unwrapped the package. There was a problem!

This is what is advertised by Anglesey Welding and Marine Supplies Ltd…

Picture Anglesey Welding web site advertising.

This is what I got…

The dinghy trolley laid out for fitting together…

I  sent yet another email to Anglesey Welding and Marine Supplies Ltd.

I went ahead and put the trolley together, expecting to receive a set of wheels.

Preparing to fit the ‘last’ piece…

Oh dear something seems to be amiss with the trolley…

Finally after another three weeks, I lost faith in the supplier: there was still no response.

I went on line and quickly found that wheels were obtainable from various suppliers – a popular item I expect. I decided to order these from Castors-online, P&L Industrial Equipment Ltd, Manchester, M11 3ER. The wheels I found were costed at £13.70 excluding VAT, for a pair.

The post, packing and delivery amounted to the cost of one wheel, but I have a date for my wheels to be delivered!

See: https://www.castors-online.co.uk/acatalog/Boat-Launching-Trolley-Wheel-GB260.html

My wheel order…

So, Mr Phil Beardmore at Anglesey Welding, I hope you are very proud of this little tale: to me it has been an utter pain, at a time I just didn’t need it.

Thanks.

And more on this … I was contacted by two people. One had problems with the wheels sent, some while ago. Another chap has contacted – he’d read this after ordering a trailer and has now also had an incomplete delivery…

The word needs to be spread!

This summer I had promised my sister and two friends a ‘Rochester to Richmond’ style trip looking at the Medway and Thames. Of course, we wouldn’t actually have been sailing to Richmond! But, my life went into a state of flux ending with a bit of a shock. I was diagnosed with prostate cancer – see earlier blog – so the planned trip was sadly cancelled at very short notice.

Along the way a huge amount of stuff went by the board as I shuttled back and forth to my local hospital accompanied by my dear wife. I have now worked through the first wave of  emotions to the news, but still have my moments of anxiety. I have begun hormone therapy which will run for around two years. The first phase of around six months leads into a second phase of ‘radio’  treatment.

Things eventually settled down  towards the end of July with no appointments until early November! So, we went away on our travels. We hadn’t actually planned an ‘up the coast’ trip, apart from a later trip planned for when my ‘Canadian’ brother was due over in late August. Firstly we had a gentle potter on the Swale visiting Conyer and Faversham – gradually soothing our souls…

After leaving the eastern end of the Swale following the traditional regatta and barge match weekend, we sailed to Queenborough to be ready for our Thames foray. (See earlier blog)

Sunrise at Queenborough on the morning of departure…

The timing of the tides meant and early-ish start if we wanted to use the flood, which like the ebb is something one does not fight on the Thames above Sea Reach. It meant bacon butties for breakfast, of course, which my good Mate is a dab hand at. The wind was of an easterly nature, making life ‘easy’ and we enjoyed a simple sail up to Gravesend, picking up a Gravesend Sailing Club mooring after chatting to a member aboard his vessel.

Passing along the inner end of Sea Reach, the area of land ‘let back’ to the sea looked as intended, a vast mud flat. This was a mitigation exercise paid for by the massive port complex on the old Shell site further upstream and across the river. (See: Rochester to Richmond.) The old sea wall bases have been largely left intact, possibly to act as a silt trap to encourage mud build up. It is likely that part of the area will eventually begin to build as a salt marsh. As has been found on the River Medway, even after nearly 100 years the re-flooded islands in that river have not yet reached a full ‘natural’ state. I wonder how many yachting folk look at these changes and ponder…

Later, during the afternoon, the Mate fell asleep! But, during that time a chap (Keith?) ranged alongside in his tender. He was away for a few days afloat, alone, and he wanted to have a natter about, boats, books and this web site. Always nice to receive some appreciation verbally. Anyway, we chatted awhile. The chap hadn’t wanted to come aboard and disturb the Mate … I hope his sailing has continued to be enjoyable.

We had hoped to go ashore to visit the club in the evening, but all was dark and quiet, it was a weekday…

Departing from Gravesend.

After an unusually quiet night on the river here we set off for the relatively short trip to Erith. The radio crackled with ship movements and as we were in a wind shadow passing the old Jetty, hanging off Tilbury Ness, our diesel was pressed into service for a few minutes until clear of the wide open lock, into which a ship was about to enter… We weren’t spoken to, but we heard a mention! It was a pleasant quiet sail, almost a drift with the fast flowing tide, but this left us, well me mainly, bags of time to feast upon the shore-line views. I must add though, my Mate is always attentive within the Medway and Thames: they offer so much to see.

Nearing the top end of Long Reach the Mate was below making some coffee, so I began to slip across the stream and entered Dartford Creek. My plan was to go up to the Crayford confluence before turning and heading out. Approaching the barrier we heard bells ringing. The lights weren’t on, nor could we see any visible signs of human life. Not wanting to become ‘trapped’ we turned about and puttered out with some mechanical assistance. I grinned at my crew and said, ‘…another time…’ as we made our way round Crayford Ness, stowing sail for the wind died!

Dartford Creek Barrier…

Speaking to a Erith YC member and mooring to a vacant buoy. As I coiled and hung the main sheet, watching as our ‘friend’ headed for the shore after completing his task, whatever it was, I was brought up short: upstream a tier of two large dumb barges seemed to be exceedingly close to the yacht moorings. To my amazement I then realised that the barges were adrift, carrying with them their mooring buoy. They were drifting quite slowly.

I immediately called VTS on channel 14, nil response, I tried again, and again there was nil response. I would have thought the brevity in my voice would have done something! I gave up and called on channel 68 (Gravesend). They responded. I passed the news, stating that the barges were ‘in’ the moorings. Initially I was asked if I was mistaken and if the barges had just swung on the tide. I’m familiar with this section of the river … the barge moorings are normally at least a quarter of a mile away … I repeated, adding that a yacht was being pushed aside. This time notice was taken…

Initially the Mate was below clearing up after our passage, but I called her on deck to stand-by to let go. We watched… As the barges swung on the tide we appeared to be next in line. The chap we’d spoken to earlier had come back out calling people up on his phone. I passed the info that VTS were appraised … and he motored around watching his own vessel! We dropped off and I appraised VTS on channel 14 (I gave two situation reports until they said they had ‘them’ on camera and a tug was on its way).

I filmed the episode … I sent a copy to the Erith club’s secretary – a costly business: it used up my laptop ‘telephone’ stick, something we hadn’t expected. We had to buy lots more to get back on line!

Two ‘GPS’ dumb barges in the Erith YC moorings…

Ultimately, the barges ‘stopped’, resting against a mooring buoy which threatened to go under the barge hulls, whilst ‘forward’ the buoy and barges bows nestled into a rather nice looking yacht! Everything ‘hung’…

A tug appeared and ‘rammed’ alongside the outer barge. The momentum set off the drift again… The nestled yacht’s fore stay banana-ed. I thought the rig was going to give. Tug lines were thrown, dropped and re-thrown … and suddenly the barges began to move away, against the ebb. Many people collectively breathed a sigh of relief!

Then the RNLI turned up as we were re-mooring … asking if we were alright!

I think the barges came to a stop because the ground chain of the buoys mooring was dragged up the slope of the river bed sufficiently to take way off. This would have been temporary: soon after the ebb sets in here the flows become rather rapid – who knows what could have happened. My thoughts lay with ‘the coming night’ we would have bee asleep and oblivious…

After the excitement, we went ashore and borrowed a trailer to move the dinghy off the slip – usual procedure here. A lady who had rushed down to go out to her boat gave us a lift into Erith, which was very nice. The rear Commodore also lent us his security gate fob to get back in – he said, ‘I won’t need it till four … the wife won’t let me back in…’! We assured him we would be back by around two! Nice friendly people.

We bought some bits ‘n’ bobs, had coffee and  did our own tourist trail, visiting the town, promenade and the fabulous brick towered Christ Church standing above the London-Kent rail line.

The inside of Erith’s C of E church (Christ Church) which is brick built.

The William Cory Promenade and hard where a Pilgrim Ferry once ran to Rainham – probably shingle then!

The Erith YC was once based at the vacated site of the Royal Corinthian Club which had decamped to The Isle of Grain at Port Victoria. Its club-house sat opposite the entrance to Stangate Creek. A base was also soon established at Burnham and too, later, ‘down south’ at Cowes… The exact spot is between the promenade and a large Morrisons Food Store located downstream on the waterfront. The hard makes a useful landing for stores … a dinghy would need tending though!

I loved these old dinghies at the Erith YC. They are Hamble Stars …  see the club’s web site for details.

Again, we departed early – before breakfast even. It was a little dismal and over-cast at first, but soon cleared for another fine day – one of many enjoyed during this year’s wonderful summer (down in the ‘south-eastern’ quarter any way…). We’d soon rounded Jenningtree Pt and Cross Ness, tacking on long and short boards beneath an increasingly blue sky and hot sun. Entering Barking Reach, ‘London’ opens up before ones eyes in a spectacular fashion with the ‘Isle of Dogs display’. The sun shone on this new part of the ‘city’ peopled by thousands of banking employees. The futuristic buildings belonging to the waste treatment concerns stood in splendour before Cross Ness, as a prelude, dealing with much of London’s waste. I like those buildings for they marry functionality with ascetics.

Approaching Barking Creek, the Mate turned to me and said, ‘We going in…?’ I laughed not feeling it a serious question, but the tide was at the right level!

The Isle of Dogs modern ‘city’ stands proudly far beyond Barking Reach…

With the sluicing tide, we made excellent progress and were soon sailing out of Gallions Reach, round the point into Woolwich Reach. The modern flats of Thamesmead had been away to the south for a little while, devoid of ‘life’ except for a trail of ‘bouncing bunnies’ (joggers) making use of the riverside pathway. Modern Woolwich was met and passed too. And on Barking Marsh flats were rising in a mass. The same was seen below Barking Creek too, where a new ‘town’ was in build. London’s housing needs must be met and these developments sit smack in the middle of the ‘Prescott’ principle of using disused industrial land (brown field sites) for such projects. The lower Barking lot is around the old power station and the upstream lot on what was a huge gas works – grazing marsh before that, when still part of Kent!

On the radio the Mate listened to some chatter about ‘the red sailed boat tacking up river towards the barrier…’ – that was us. Shortly after that, we’d shed sail and begun to motor towards our allotted  span to pass through. We’d soon moored on the inside at the Greenwich Yacht Club.

I have always, apart from once, emailed the yacht club if we’ve wanted to berth, I have to say, however, not a single response has been received! But, we seemed to be expected… While I dealt with formalities – payment and entry fob –  my Mate got our bacon under the grill. It was barely 0900!

A piece of beach art by the Greenwich YC

Later, we’d found our way to a bus stand after a coffee, before popping into Greenwich proper. On the way back we searched out a fragment of ‘old’ amongst all that is now new on the Greenwich peninsular. A little row of properties in Ceylon Place still exists along with a pub. The pub was once the preserve of steel workers, engine makers and shipbuilders amongst others and its lane led down to where a barge yard sat in Bugsby’s Hole – roughly at the upper end of the yacht club’s moorings…

Ceylon place – 1801 – a delightful row of houses and a pub.

London’s changing skyline at sunset…

The next morning we set sail in light conditions – too light to sail properly and eventually, going down Blackwall Reach, the engine was fired up and I stowed sail. A light drizzle had set in too, even though it was hot!

Calling up Limehouse the Mate was asked if we’d booked! ‘Yes…’ she said. We were told to standby and potter up and down. This went on for around an hour whilst they summoned up sufficient staff to deal with the bridge and locks … we had our booking confirmed (nice!) but ‘it’ hadn’t been transmitted to the ‘lock diary’ … word of warning. It is best, apparently, to call up the lock/habour office on the telephone and give an arrival time, rather than more vague information…

Chandlers at Putney…

Whilst in Limehouse we enjoyed a walk from Putney to Chiswick Bridge enjoying the old water-side towns en-route. We saw lots of rowers … old wharves with rail lines still in place and defunct brewaries. We had an afternoon at the Theatre ‘with Noel Coward’, a delightful ‘supper’ at The Savoy Grill (a present from my Mate as part of our ruby anniversary… x). We completed a walk previously started, working our way around the ‘Temples’ and the old fleet street paper areas. We also came across two exhibitions about London Life – one was a display in St Paul’s Yard, which was very good. The other was up in Clerkenwell at The City of London Archives – another good display.

Putney rowers…

Barge wharves at Mortlake – crane rails still in place still

A picture of a picture at the archives exhibition we visited. The barge is the Spencer (ex Kent) Registered in London, but built as a few were in Sweden (Engleskavaret) in 1900. She was an Everard barge from 1906 and was broken up at Greenhithe in December 1924. Probably she’d been damaged… (Info – Sailing Barge Compendium – Society for Sailing Barge Research)

Whimbrel’s rudder makes a resting place for a hen coot in Limehouse Basin…

We saw family members too, enjoying a supper at The Grapes, but all too soon, it seemed, it was time to leave … departing for Greenhithe.

A little bit of riverside industry to do with vessel maintenance in Greenwich. The big ex Everard, Will was in dock.

At Greenhithe we went ashore for a walk along the ‘village’ High Street, savouring the quaintness and quiet that abounds. Some fresh stores were obtained too – enough to get us home. We hadn’t shopped in Limehouse as they would have needed to be got the day before we departed … we left at 0800!

Off Greenhithe

Leaving Greenhithe we were intending to sail for Upnor! But, the forecast was updated with lots of heavy downpours for Kent/Essex and strong winds. We stopped for a ‘lazy’ day reading, cocooned in the cabin! But, in the evening all was well and out came the Gravesend Rowing Club with 4-oar skiffs and sculls, doubles, 4’s and an eight were seen…

Two pictures from Gravesend…

Our last sunset on the Thames…

Our last Thames morning was delightful. The previous day’s front had cleared away elsewhere … we’d had little in the way of ‘ripples’ for weeks it seemed and knew our garden would have enjoyed the rain! In a westerly we ran away from Gravesend, reached down Lower Hope before enjoying a long run down to the Jenkin Swatch, crossed the grain shallows and sailed onto a buoy in Queenborough…

Beware the big ones … the wash is ferocious…

And, into the friendly Medway…

Our last supper aboard before heading home…

Our cruise was done – we needed to be home for various appointments (non-health). We’d had a grand time, one of the best…

This blog is dedicated to Jon from Sidney, British Columbia, Canada, for an act of kindness … Jon sails the waters ‘over there’ but they tend to be a little rockier around the shores…

We spent a few days in Faversham at the Iron Wharf yard enjoying the town and its surrounds. We certainly didn’t enjoy the heat and would have been better off ‘out’… Nevertheless, we had a wonderful time.

Sailing into Faversham is always an exhilarating experience in respect to the change seen from a sea environment being left behind to floating in a rural idyll. On the way sea lavender was seen in bloom across areas of saltings. Cattle munched along the wall edges and bird life lifted and floated along the tide edge hunting for food. To cap it all, we managed to sail most of the way in, resorting to engine only on the last leg – helmed by my good wife, Whimbrel’s good mate.

But having arrived, we had to leave too…

Leaving Faversham astern…

Again, after the first leg, we were able to set the sails and sail out. And the wind was strong enough to make good headway – a sea breeze had set in during the early afternoon. Walkers stood and gazed, perhaps taking a breather, or…

Going down past Nagden Cottages..

The last leg, the creek’s entrance reach, had to be done with a few tacks. A motoring boat came out of Oare Creek astern of us … ‘he’ hung on our port quarter … I indicated to him to go by … he frowned and went onto the other quarter before doing a ‘loop the loop’. Eventually after we’d completed our first tack he went by. Hmm, nothing so strange as folks – probably thought I was a ‘nutter’ sailing out…

Out in the Swale barges, smacks, traditional gaffers and various yacht types were gathering. This continued during the afternoon. A big exodus followed the next morning: tides suited an early departure and return after the racing. During the evening after supper – poached salmon and lemon with a salad – I pottered off in the dinghy to ‘survey’ the assembled craft at closer quarters, saying a few words to known faces as well as those not…

Guess what … the wind died and I had to row some distance back to the mother ship, watched by the mate!

Phew, I reached home…

Sitting over a coffee, we watched as the sun set in a gloriously, silky chiffon pink, silhouetting the spritsail barge Orinoco and the steamer VIC96, I think!

Sunset in the East Swale.

Being the ‘designated light man’ I was pushed from the bunk and toddled of to fetch down our riding light. Boats were stirring all around the ‘harbour’. I put a kettle on … whilst enjoying our morning cuppa we were ‘mobbed’ by a friendly vessel – Ivy May, a Finesse 21 – a few quick fire questions and I found that the shindig was starting early … too late for a leisurely breakfast.

Ivy May…

We were soon washed, dressed and on our way … breakfast came later in the form of some fruit and cereal, but we’d a locker full of picnic goodies for a lunch later.

By the time we reached the start line at the Sand End buoy, the staysail class of barges were away. I believe two were classed as ‘coasters’, the others unrestricted staysail (means they can fly whatever…). This group consisted of Niagara, Reperter, and the Orinoco, Lady of the Lea and Pudge. The classing of barges today mystifies me … we were always in the rear and only ever came third from last at our best … today, that would probably have given us a trophy. Bah!!

Heading down towards the start were a number of spectator craft mixing with the barges, I gradually worked over to the north of the channel to hug the shallows and keep clear – not easy whilst trying not to interfere’ with maneuvering barges. There were three bowsprit spritsails – EDME, Marjorie and the Dawn, which I’d not seen sailing for two years. She looked splendid.

Dawn in Silhouette…

Dawn is unique among the large barges in the fleet today: she is tiller steered. The little Cygnet is too, but she is a half-size barge.

The tiller-steered Dawn goes by…

All of a sudden, it was the start. For once, the EDME did not have it all her way for Dawn stormed across some barge lengths ahead. It was to no avail though. We both watched, entranced, by the sheer power of the ‘little’ EDME as she cruised past, as if a runner passing a pedestrian walker… It was a subliminal moment!

The Dawn being overhauled…

Then it was time for the smacks followed by the gaffers and traditional yachts – the organisers have been trying to get me to enter with Whimbrel or the dinghy – more of the latter later!

Two ‘smacks’ (ex fishing craft) jousting closely before the start.

CK476 – needs a lecture…

This one ‘annoyed’ me: astern, I heard a shout. It came again with a gesticulation … ‘Get out f the … way…’ After looking around, I decided to move to starboard, a little. They were marginally faster than us, at the time. I glared as they passed … racing does not exonerate them from the rule of the road. Ahead was a rather larger yacht, not racing, I believe: I’d not noticed a ‘board’ as they went by us earlier. They were shouted at too … loudly. The yacht went one way, then the other, then back again. Another shout ensued with much crew gesticulation … and the smack went past. Hmm.

There follows a series of pictures of passing craft. We sailed out to close by the Ham Gat and turned back towards the inner waters, not intending to ‘do the course’.

A ‘new’ steel schooner is in this mix…

The Johanna, a ‘Dutch-man’…

The Albatros, a ‘dutch-barge’ – she has an official type name, but I’m not an expert…

What is lovely about this Kent sail Association event is the wide mix of vessel types that pitch up and are allowed to race in their own classes. Steam yachts have visited in the past too. The little ‘puffer’ went out after the fleet, chasing. And, in and around the anchorage were a number of dutch-barge yachts and floating homes out for a good weekend. It really does give flavour…

Reaching the inner end of the East Swale’s entrance off Harty ferry, we spotted the dinghy fleet in action sailing an in-shore course. We followed …

Toby, owner/skipper of the spritsail barge Ironsides with son Kit as crew, sailing the barge boat. Ironsides is their sailing home…

Alan Stalley of Faversham builders and yacht repairers at Chambers Wharf sailing a Faversham 9’6″ dinghy – the same as our Twitch…

Then, in the far distance, I spotted the triangle of a topsail over the land horizon … it was time to high-tail it back to the line, set at off Faversham spit. The EDME came in first in the bowsprit class by a very long way indeed. She was followed by the Niagara, some distance behind, but not massive, in the unrestricted staysail class flying a huge spinnaker. An ‘interloper’ was spotted … a barge cruising with a charter party was on her way in too.

EDME winning by a wide margin over her sisters…

EDME reducing sail before going to anchor…

The interloper was the delightful looking Edith May which operates from her berth in Lower Halstow old brick dock at the foot of Stangate Creek. She’s not raced much this year, sadly…

The Edith May ‘crosses’ the line … I’d have given her a gun!

The Dawn pips the Marjorie by a whisker…

These first few barges were soon followed by the fleeter footed smacks. I often wonder what long ago fishermen would think of ‘their’ craft rigged out as gentlemen’s yachts … but at lest they still sailing and people have the will and expertise to restore and sail them The same it should be said about the barge fleet – although a few of these have been helped greatly by the lottery heritage fund.

The first smack…

Splashes of colour abounded as boats came home flying an assorted mix of sail. Some even sported ‘water-sails’ rigged beneath the mainsail booms. What a spectacle.

A modern gaffer…

I just loved the name of this next one – Rosebud, It has certain connotations, surely!

A friend of mine, and of many surely, was sailing in the event – my mooring neighbour, Dick Durham aboard Betty II. I spotted the game little ship dating to 1922 approaching the line while stuffing a piece of bread and pate into my mouth … you didn’t need to know that, but hey!

Betty II crosses the line with her crew looking relaxed.

Owner, Dick Durham, gives an order – or did he spot a mermaid…

The Albatros finishing…

I didn’t await all finishers, I’d had my fun, as to had the mate, and her book … so we ‘retired’ to another anchorage off the Ferry Boat Inn at Harty to sit out the afternoon. And, at last my mate said, I finished the Conrad I have been reading – Chance. A strange novel…

‘We’ were even treated as the day wore on, in its sultry and hot manner, to a floor show by some of the Medway’s hovercraft fleet … strangely several of them got ‘stuck’ in the mud. Eventually freeing themselves by ‘rocking’ back and forth.

Hover bover…

Yes, this event organised so brilliantly by the Kent Sail Association is a worthwhile date for anyone’s calendar. I thoroughly  enjoyed seeing vessels often seen, and most of all, the many not so often seen. Look out for it in the spring next year and write the date in your diary, smart phone, filo-fax or whatever you use…

One last word:

Brilliant!

A boating acquaintance of mine has decided to hang up his sailing boots and walk a landward path now…

The chaps boat, Frith, a rather tasty Finesse 24 has bee kept at Burnham Marina for a number of years. She is remarkably well kept, although she has been in regular use, she hasn’t been sailed greatly in recent years, largely due to illness.

The boat is advertised on Clarke & Carters web site, see:

http://clarkeandcarter.co.uk/boats-for-sale/1988-finesse-24-burnham-on-crouch-united-kingdom-6779810/

She is a fine boat indeed and looks as if she has just left the builders yard.

I would seriously recommend her to anyone interested.

Frith at Burnham in 2015.

Another Finesse 24 has recently changed hands too. This is Andantino, which I wrote a piece about in the late spring. She has been purchased by a Benfleet YC chap. The club is based on Canvey Island, just over the bridge from Benfleet, Essex. I understand he is hard at work getting the boat ready to go back into the water…

It is pleasing when these classics find new friends to look after and cherish them: they’ll give good service for ones efforts…

It has been a topsy-turvy year to date.

It began full of hopes and dreams of a long and fruitful continuing enjoyment of all the good things in life, far into the future.

We began with a sparkling early morning sail in January, together.

A happy-go-lucky me taken by The Mate … whilst cooking up bacon rolls.

It continued with intermittent days out in London to visit exhibitions, go to the theatre and enjoy our other joint pastime – walking.

Christobel studiously studying a picture at The Tate…

Out walking – looking towards Canewdon Hill and church…

Then, along came an invitation to attend our surgery for a health check – BUT they were only interested in any possible cardiac problems. I asked about having a PSA test for the level of protein specific antigen in the blood, which is ‘leached’ by the prostate gland – I was asked if I had a problem?

So, I was told NO, not entitled. We don’t go down this line. Do you have any symptoms?

No I didn’t…

Eventually, as I was about to bang the desk, the nurse went off to ask a doctor. Nurse was told to add to blood test list as was having one anyway…

It came back at 12.6…

We then went away on our 40th wedding anniversary jaunts to a ‘secret location’ first and then a few days later to Amsterdam for a few ‘puffs’ – well no actually, for the museums etc…

In my mind was a remark from ‘my’ doctor that the level was above normal, but there was nothing to worry about. Hmmmmm!

A present from my dear Christobel … xx

Flowers at our ‘secret’ hotel… And some books, Christobel’s gift was on her finger…

Soon after our return, I received an appointment letter to attend Southend Hospital … this was very quickly cancelled by the surgery (we believe) and I was sent for a further test. It came back at 13.6…

At this point I began to look into ‘The Prostate’ with some interest.

It was a steep and frightening learning curve. Worry levels rose, as did blood pressure.

I eventually saw a specialist during early June, by the 13th I’d had a MRI scan and by the following weekend went into hospital for a biopsy on the Saturday morning. I won’t go into details, other than to say a special needle is inserted through the ‘underneath’ soft tissue bit and nibbles of what is there are removed for testing.

Post Biopsy – on Father’s day…

Christobel did wonders to nurse me and keep me in a good frame of mind for I was just a little fragile and frightened, as she was herself.

Waiting for Skippy…

We had a walk around a section of the Chelmer & Blackwater Navigation – then changed for a jaunt into Maldon … after my soreness had dissipated. While I had a mosey through the yards and a look at the Blue Mermaid which I found was progressing nicely, Christobel found a convenient perch to read! The Blue Mermaid is the new sailing barge owned by the Sea-change Trust.

Things were moving fast…

I was soon back at the hospital to see a specialist … cancer was confirmed. Suspected T2/T3 – not good, but containable to point of eradication.

This felt like a very dark day and I will not beat about the bush, I broke down, utterly … a weekend away sailing soothed me, especially after a couple of pints in the Admiral’s Arm in Queenborough with crisps and pickled eggs. We obviously had proper food as well!

There followed a bone scan to check if any cells had floated free and found a new home… This came back as Clear! Phew!

We left the hospital with a list of appointments – specialist nurse, oncologist and surgeon ‘chats’ …

Last Friday I saw the nurse (with Christobel: this is something that affects both…) and she painted the picture in graphic and to the point terms. There would be problems and side affects.

My demeanour was dropping, it was becoming too much. It hurt. The way ahead was cloudy and becoming pointless…

On Saturday evening we had a family (3) BBQ with lots of jollity and bonhomie … cheering me up somewhat.

On Sunday I slipped away for a sail – The Mate rested: we’d helped out at our ‘village’ summer fayre for 8 hours on Saturday and it had taken its toll…

Whimbrel cracking along last Sunday…

I say ‘…last Sunday…’ in a way which makes it seem such a long time ago. In many respects it is for yesterday, Tuesday, we had over two hours with a nurse for pee flow test (good) spending most of the time with the Oncologist’s registrar, the surgeon and then to the oncologist.

I was at first numbed: the detail given was vast. Almost too much, but even I could see the main problem.

My cancer was given a T3a score with a Gleeson level of ‘8’. It has broken out from the prostate, but not yet gone far. It has grabbed one set of nerves (there are two bundles to control the manly function…).

The surgeon was blunt. One set would go. The other, well, something called ‘nerve saving’ prostate removal by robotic assistance at Broomfield Hospital, Chelmsford, would be done. A rapid check is made on removal in area of nerves for cancer tissues is made and if good, then other ones are kept…

If I travel the treatment route, the Oncologist would feed me hormone tablets for around six months, treat with Brachytherapy  – essentially a number of needles down which iridium would be injected into ‘bad’ areas. This would be followed by 6-8 weeks of radio therapy…

Both would do the job. Both have ramifications, but for quality of life, the treatment is, I feel, the likely course I take. This was intimated, as best, but not stated!

The main problem is that some of the cancer has been found to be vigorous and is probably unpredictable. My bone scan is clear.

The future … I’m trying to be upbeat. It is difficult. I know several people who have had treatment or removals.

I’ve received protestations about ‘the best way’ – useful for outcome and well being boost, but doesn’t help greatly for, as the surgeon and oncologist and indeed the specialist nurse have said, all cases are different and treatment options are tailored to the individual…

It has to be right for me, for Christobel, and for our lives…

All at Southend Hospital that I have had dealings with display the utmost care in the way they explain the problem and for the way they have ‘handled’ me. They have display the same attitude to Christobel too. It is quite touching…

On our anniversary evening…

I’ve told my story to the health practitioners at Southend Hospital and they are ‘gobsmacked’ by the attitude of surgeries that sit within their own fold, as it were…

So, any men out there who haven’t had a PSA test, bloody well pull you fingers out and get it done. Do not take ‘NO’ for an answer – it is your right. It’ll probably save your life. Wives, partners, tell them. Withhold ‘favours’ until they do so…

I’m not joking. It is serious. 

Remember, I had absolutely no symptoms. I only get up once in the night and often don’t need to. If you pee more than a few times, it is likely there is a problem, or enlargement, and it should be looked into… Enlargement is a natural aging phenomena. 

There is a wealth of places to go for information, but do look here: https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/prostate-cancer/diagnosis/

I was advised to stay off ‘American’ sites. Use NHS and Macmillan Cancer. Macmillan are linked on the NHS site.

And, whatever, keep smiling…

Nearly two years ago I found I needed a replacement loo seat for the RM69 toilet fitted to Whimbrel. I was offered a wood seat which I purchased. This was fitted in the spring of 2017.

The RM range of marine toilets were originally manufactured by a Dutch company, however, this folded a little while ago and E. C. Smith took over the range. Good news for boaters, one would think…

This year I also needed some other spares, so since I had been dealing directly with E. C. Smith for a great number of years, with various receipts going back twenty years or so for the toilet alone, I duly emailed the company. I did not get a response from repeated emails (on record) or even a telephone call…

Eventually, after contacting a marine outlet store I found that E. C. Smith no longer dealt with the general public. And boy, doesn’t that make life difficult: marine shops rarely have what you need in way of spares … however, the one contacted advised me that they could order the parts (at an inflated price) of course.

I had a spare seal and part that I actually needed, so that job was done. I was planning to do more – but have deferred this until I actually get the seal needed. On a whim I’ve decided to reseal the base – not leaking, but know it has been in use for years, decades even, so feel inclined to stymie this.

Whilst getting down close to the loo lids some while back I noticed two things:

1. the hinges were shedding shards of ‘chromium’ and crud.
2. the seat had begun to split … it isn’t made of wood, it is manufactured from compressed paper – probably ‘MDF’. I felt incensed, however it has gone out of any guarantee now.

The hinges…

Close up of one…

The hinges appear to be manufactured from some grunge alloy designed to shed its ultra-thin layer of chromium in such a way as to create a hazard to the cleaner … often me and, yes, I have been ‘cut’.

My faith in E. C. Smith is destroyed.

Will I use them again? Not bloody likely.

The hinges have been replaced with a pair of solid brass units purchased from, Black Country Metal Works Ltd. They can be found online.

New solid brass hinges.

The seat, I have begun sealing the edges and will coat with some epoxy, rub smooth and repaint.

Seat edge – sorry about ‘poor’ focus!

How long the seat and lid units last is a matter of conjecture: not long I believe!

The future – probably a new loo, which I am quite sure will be generally unfit for the marine environment. We’ll cross that bridge when needed…

I have had a couple of Francis B. Cooke’s books for some while, but found his writing somewhat dry and belittling, condescending even, especially in the way he ‘treated’ women…

Perchance, for part of her Ruby Wedding Anniversary present to me, my good mate and dear wife presented me with: Small Yacht Cruising, Weekend Yachting and, Coastwise Cruising. This last is a fictitious cruise from the Thames (Erith) to Lowestoft, which in many respects mimics without all the ‘map’ detail an earlier book, London to Lowestoft (Also on my shelves…).

A selection of Cooke…

I have another, In Tidal Waters, ordered and on its way … this, I have read is more in the vein of Maurice Griffith’s books – or should that be the other way round for Tidal waters came in 1919.

There is a lot of good sense in much that I have read, up till now, with ‘hints’ galore. If you were a gaff sailor they would be of special use perhaps, but dated in these modern times, however, seamanship does not date – one is always learning!

There is, however, a propensity to repeat things already said. Today, writers have the joys of a computer screen and it is easy to cut stuff out etc.

Francis Cooke began sailing, I believe, at around the age of 7 in 1879. He apparently had his last sail aged 101 and died aged 102. His long term moorings were at North Fambridge on the River Crouch. It was from here he sailed last on his beloved Iolanthe. Cooke was a founding member of the East Coast Mutual Yacht Insurance Association – which is still in operation today.

Francis Cooke did not have any love for the Medway or Swale (I’d like a long chat about this) and left the Thames early in his sailing life for the Crouch, N. Fambridge to be precise. The Thames got ‘too busy’ and it was industrialised. The Medway and Swale were similar, but still had places to sail into, as they have now. he ‘hated’ the way spritsail barges came through moorings to get to quays long used for trade and yet were becoming surrounded by yacht moorings. He literally had not a good word for the ‘humble’ fisherman and his gnarled worked out smack or bawley…

Of boats, he despised the barge-yacht, didn’t care a jot for the centre-boarder and extolled the virtue of a draft around 4′ 6″ – he’d have loved many of the grp wonders around today, surely. I got the impression, because there isn’t a mention of him, that Cooke and Griffiths didn’t see eye to eye … I have mentioned this to a yachting journalist: MG in one of his books (Possibly, Magic of…)mentions a book by a ‘someone’ who he couldn’t remember, about something – a detail about the Southend shore and sketch maps – and a bell has rung in my top hamper. I believe the ‘who’ was Cooke!

Don’t quote me…

For me, the most basic of sailing joys was missing from his life – a Mate. His wife. It was pointedly clear as I read that ‘women’ didn’t figure in his idea of boating. There were certain references to making the cabin arrangements suitable for ladies, should they be carried. Most of his sailing was either carried out alone – which he extolled – with a pal, or sometimes his son (in his younger days). Never, it seems, his wife! I found this extremely sad.

One passage summed up this male domination theme. He commented on the lamentable action of a wife putting petrol in a kettle to boil for tea. The boat blew up. The container was the same as used for water and ‘hubby’ hadn’t marked them…

In Tidal Waters, first published 1919.

Some of the bits one reads mimic a little what was written by Cooke in his book, In Tidal Waters. In this book too, due to the fact that many of the yarns were originally written for the magazine market, a repetition of some details occurs – especially in relation to boat details. This can be ignored!

One has to read these books with the knowledge that Cooke was a Victorian Gentleman who happened to be long lived – into the age of rockets and nuclear fusion and moon landings. But, normally, time changes life perspectives – maybe a later book will include the ‘modern age’ of yachting for he wrote into the early 1960s.

My grandfather who sailed in the early 1930s would have known (of) Cooke, my father too, probably, and they may have even met on the water or at some anchorage.

Another of his ‘ways’ was the hating of solitude at anchor. He disliked the call of the curlew preferring the buzz of a lively harbour shore – especially if there was a golf course handy. I felt that Francis B. Cooke would love todays modern marinas…

If you can find these books, read them for they’re useful, as said, and they certainly tell you what it was like…

The annual Finesse Rally which was started by a local group of like-minded souls with me as their ‘appointed’ head has, I am pleased to say, continued to thrive.

Last year’s event at Brightlingsea was somewhat marred by inclement weather preceding and during the Saturday of the event. It being, in the main, rather blowy! Only four vessels mad it to the venue. Others made stalwart efforts to get there and decided that enough was enough – trying to bash round The Naze at the northern end of the wallet channel. Two crews in the event sailed up the Stour and berthed at Mistley … later arriving by taxi! Others arrived by vehicle too.

So, it was with a little trepidation that the organiser began arranging the 2018 event. A large number of vessels were initially booked and as time passed by, numbers fell. However, on the day we had a fleet of seven plus an associate – a past Finesse owner with his current craft and crew. This is always nice to see…

Beyond the sailing barge Margery the Finesse 24 Pippit spotted clearing Sheerness Harbour, Chatham bound…

 Whimbrel departed in company with two Island YC sisters, Gypsy and Calluna – all ’24s’. The wind was a little fitful, but I am pleased to say that other than the deep water channel transit little diesel was used!

The organiser and most of the group sailed directly for Chatham whilst Whimbrel stopped over in Queenborough to meet any who were late getting down the coast or round the Swale.

Finesse 21 Ivy May, a gaff cutter, reaching through Queenborough Harbour.

During the afternoon I was able to spot some of the fleet ‘marching’ towards Chatham. Thames spritsail barges were coming into Queenborough too: the 2018 barge match on the R. Medway was starting outside Queenborough and finishing there too. Sadly only seven turned up…

The Mate and I had a delightful amble around Queenborough and its historic creek, enjoying a coffee at a new café next to the Admiral’s Arm (where we later repaired…)

Whilst ashore in the evening I spotted a Finesse 24 in the distance and sure enough she soon pitched up in the harbour. The crew of the boat, Sandpiper, were soon ashore getting some food inside them before joining us at the Admiral’s Arm… We had earlier bumped into Dick Durham who had moored on the buoy next to us. We also met his crew ‘Glum’ who is far from a nick-name that is decades old! Cheers boys…

Whimbrel on the Medway – Lucy Vinten-Mattich

The next morning, early, at 063 we cast off Chatham bound, followed out of the harbour by our new found friends aboard Sandpiper… I took ‘them’ across Queenborough Spit, but they strayed too far in and ploughed a furrow with their centre plate. Their first Medway lesson!

Sandpiper from Whimbrel off Oakham Ness.

In good time both boats arrived off the lock and we were soon ‘in’. Wow, wasn’t it nice to be met by a band of Finesse sailors, calling their good wishes, etc, etc, from the dock wall…

Whimbrel and Sandpiper locking into Chatham… Picture: Rob Hardy

Once berthed we did the rounds and the Mate had a scamper ashore to the Marks & Spencer outlet store, coming back a little disappointed!

Here are some of the boats…

Awel-O-Wynt a Finesse 21.

Finesse 24 Gypsy.

I spy Pippit, another ’24’…

We had an intimate and enjoyable buffet in the evening, being joined by other owners and also a Sea King owner who ‘graduated’ from a Finesse 21. Here, again, I must give my thanks and for all the others, to the two ladies who organised the buffet. Well Done.

Some of the evening’s revellers…

Sadly, all too soon, Sunday dawned and movements were soon noted as early breakfasts were enjoyed before departure preparations… Upon Whimbrel leaving the dockside, only two boats remained plus our friends aboard the mono-hull Ocean Magic.

We sailed away down river in company, again, with Calluna and Gypsy, the later returning home directly, whilst we enjoyed another night out…

Whimbrel from Calluna…

It was a good rally. Those who attended enjoyed themselves. New owners were astounded by the bonhomie and advice that abounded. A new organiser (s) were duly ‘elected’. Well done you two!

But, I was a little disheartened by the large number of boats that could have attended. The shores in my own locality are ‘littered’ with 21s and 24s. I fear that interest is not high, however, without some commitment, this little group could unravel…

I hope not!

The 2018 Essex Book festival seems a long time ago now, but I’m sure many of you may like to peruse some of the comments from the attendees. The list was quite staggering actually.

Generally you get a, ‘Good…’ or, ‘I liked it…’ etc, but these returns were very touching indeed.

There was around 65 people at the talk, including a half dozen staff and festival ‘bods’.

The lovely display at Canvey Island Library for the event…

Comments;

• Very Interesting
• Brilliant!
• Very good evening and interesting subject.
• Excellent – keep up the good work.
• Really enjoyable.
• An excellent insight into past sights, industries and creeks on the rivers Medway and Thames giving new places to explore…
• Very interesting talk greatly enhanced by the pictures which illustrated the journey.
• Excellent talk with good slide presentation. Very informative!
• A fascinating and very informative talk. It was wonderful to have it illustrated with slides…
• Great cake, good talk – nice to have visuals…

There we go, touching…

To add to those, the festival organiser attendees also spoke nicely of the event. One said it was the best she had attended…

All I can add is a very big thank you to all who attended, to the staff at Canvey Island Library and to the festival organisers for inviting me.