It came about by accident in many respects. I’d arranged to take a friend for a sail some time ago, however he dropped out for personal reasons so the mate was back in her rostered place… The trip planned was for a visit to Conyer to enjoy the wonderful wares on offer at the Ship – a place my pal hadn’t been to.

The Pioneer was seen sailing sedately up the London River…

It seemed that it would be nice to have company so my mate suggested putting out a note to local Finesse owners … there were several responses and murmurs of, “… great, I’ll be there…” Ultimately two boats, both from the south Essex shoreline, made the passage. The forecast was good, it being right smack in the middle of a settled spell which seems to have encompassed the whole of September up ’til now in this balmy quarter of England. Highs down here always seem to give some days of ‘grey’ and we had a bit of early greyness which cleared to sunny and some late summer warmth as the afternoon settled in – just the job!

Whimbrel made an excelent passage, alone, across the Thames to Queenborough: the other boat, Mariette, was leaving a little later from her mooring up near the Benfleet barrier. We cut across the running tide, rippling and glistening in the late summer sunshine. It looked full of life, vitality and purpose as Whimbrel shouldered through it towards ‘our’ friendly Medway.

We moored short of the pontoon a few minutes after high water … a quick passage … Max, the harbour boatman, was soon on our case for ‘his’ fee – but he’s a nice, friendly chap!

Mariette, a fine lady, cruises sedately into the West Swale…

Mariette came tramping in some while later having caught the full whack of the Medway’s out going ebb. She came past us under full sail, her speed reducing as the wind was lost with her grinning skipper (mate and crew rolled into one) beaming at us … after tidying up Dick had a little work to do – essential emails, he said. Later he came across in his tender for a small libation and nibbles.

Dick doing foredeck duty … he was mate, cook and bottle washer too!

Supper was had at the Queenborough Yacht Club where good honest fare can be enjoyed at a fair price. The members there are always welcoming – the first essential is to get yourself a beer … then sign in! I had a convivial natter with the club’s commodore, an amiable chap – a real river man: he’d worked it on motor barges and tugs…

It was agreed that we would depart at 0900 on Saturday morning … this was made promptly: Mariette made moves in good time – Dick’s no slouch! My mate sailed us off the mooring under our headsail, rounding up to allow me to hoist our main – slick – and we waited a little while Dick hoisted Mariette’s gaff mainsail – he needed his crew!

Sailing down from Long Point in perfect conditions …

Sailing round the West Swale when the wind in the confines of the land is comfortable is one of life’s pleasures. The boat moves crisply with purpose across flat water. Down east, when a west or east wind is blowing a particularly short steep chop can build up making life interesting and wet! But we didn’t have any of that at a little after low water…

My mate, for once, being sensible infront of the lens…!

The bridge held us up for what I would call a considerable time … both boats sailed up and down, round and past a modern grp vessel with all sails zipped up. Her skipper didn’t seem to be amused: a wave and a smile barely elicited a response…!

And we were followed by Mariette … the other boat shot through between us without a single ounce of friendliness!

Now, it transpired that Dick had not sailed much in the Swale of late for his other boat is 48 feet of grp. His ownership of Mariette is extending his ditch-crawling into areas that he once knew as a child aboard one or other of his father’s craft – most of his memories rest with his father’s Sea King cruiser the family owned – Dick himself had one in his younger days too … he’s gone ‘upmarket’ with a Finesse, surely! Later Dick admitted that it was forty years since he’d last sailed into Conyer, then a different place by far – he was staggered by Swale marina, remembering a shed at a delapidated wharf and only a rickety mooring by the pub at the outer end of Lime Dock…

Anyway, the Swale was quite shallow at low water and the useable width for tacking was insufficient, so at first with a wind that was more of an easterly in that patch we had to motor sail … but this lasted only to around the approach to No. 6 buoy, where jibs were set and we had a duel with the fresh flood … we both won, of course!

Now there is something nice about sailing through this stretch with the banks all showing … the sight of feeding waders can be enjoyed … grebes and cormarants fishing for whatever takes their fancy … and seals too can be seen. We saw one and I expect many more saw us! The alternating light caused by the passage of scattered cloud over the sun kept brushing the sea scape in differing shades. It has a special beauty – a place we love.

Mariette coming into Conyer Creek.

Mariette was taking a little more time to make her boards (no centre plate) and we sailed on towards the Harty shore before running back under jib to canter up the South Deep together … we moored and Mariette came alongside to await the tide … it wasn’t long.

The wind was easterly … ideal for a potter up under jib. But we didn’t: as said Dick hadn’t been this way for years and I felt responsible!! The sky had virtually shed its powder puffs and he shone down as we motored in line up the creek whilst a stream of craft came out. It was idylic. Conyer is idylic…

Some Finesse friends came over from Faversham to say hello … another boat was to have joined us, but couldn’t – shame!

Sunday called for an early start: we departed at 0515… By the time dawn was nearly up we were sailing in a line westwards towards Elmley. My mate put the bacon on … oh yes, the waft of bacon aroama really sets hunger pangs singing. They were comfortably sent packing! Oh yes, that bridge kept us gilling around for another 40 minutes … no trains passed over until just before our lift…

This kinds of captures it … for some reason the camera aperture was delayed and Mariette moved on… It was one of those mornings…

The wind had risen a notch as the morning progressed too and I said to the mate, “As we round Long Point I’ll put a reef in the main…” She looked at me and frowned, before relaxing again! I’m glad we did: we were outsailing Mariette and this didn’t change under shortened sail with just the working jib. A period of tacking ensued to clear the Swale, then out of the Medway’s entrance far enough east to tramp over the Thames … Ah yes.

Hello… Dick was ‘between stay and buoy’ coming out of the entrance.

Mariette bares her bottom to the Thames…

All in all it was a good sail, a little spray flew at times and we bashed into a few rollers along the edge of the deep water channel. Off the pier a few small wavelets slapped under our bottom – these showered as much spray as the ‘deeps’ – typical: a welcome to home waters…

And we saw this on the pier end… A beautiful replica of an 18th Century Russian warship… We dipped our ensign, but the crew missed it!

Underway again… Grand!

After leaving the comfortable confines of Limehouse Basin we pottered up river to turn below Tower Bridge – a kind of rite of passage. Sail was set as we approached Limehouse Reach sail was set and we were off, homeward bound with a planned stop at Greenhithe for our penultimate evening away.

The Dar Mlodziezy.

Reaching Greenwich, apart from the carbuncle up on the land, we saw a real sailing ship moored out n the river, clearly an early arrival… She was the Polish beauty Dar Mlodziezy. Apart from short periods we seemed to be tacking down and round all the reaches … it’s the way the cookie crumbles – the mate hadn’t even mentioned the engine!

The engine had a brief run as we transited the flood barrier and upon exiting a whole mass of vessels were seen down in Woolwich Bight.

Group of tall ships alongside Woolwich Pier…

The Oosterchelte – a particular beauty…

It then went quiet – no rushing twin hulled water taxis and few coasters and tugs to disturb our sailing serenity…

Approaching the QE2 bridge a sail, well a mass of creamy canvas, was seen … this was the first of a parade that is still going on as I bash my keys swinging to a buoy off Greenhithe’s town hard… As I speak the Sea Cadet training ship has sailed under the bridge followed by two ‘smack’ types, big gaff cutters anyway!

The Gulden Leeuw, wow what a ship…

The Tenacious, pity they’d furled sails…

The Pelican of London…

A Fifer on the London River…

The Starvos S Niarchos

Two further vessels …

The Lady of Avenel – which as east coasters know is based in Maldon.

A couple of the smaller ‘tall’ ships…

Well that’s all I’m uploading … there were many more and a three-master has just motored under the bridge … following several gaffers.

What a fantastic place Limehouse Basin is. I haven’t berthed here before and we have been very pleased. It is friendly. Staff are supremely helpful and all ones needs are met in the locale. I can remember the basin with a few old ‘manky’ craft within many years ago. It has been transformed, as has the whole area. Pleasant looking flats, tasteful dock building conversions and areas of green space… Well done to Limehouse!

We arrived following a night at the Greenwich Yacht Club, another friendly waterside stopping point, but alas the club itself wasn’t open for refreshments that evening. The one down point about Greenwich is the wash and rise/fall of water as the fast twin hulled ‘clipper’ ferries rush by… We slept late on our first quiet morning!

Sailing up Barking Creek…

On the way up from Erith we sailed up into Barking Creek stopping at the bridge, which only has around five metres clearance, while a coffee was enjoyed … and await more water for boat to completely swing to her anchor. We motored clear of the creek.

A stately creek heron…

Approaching the Thames Barrier.

Once back out into the Thames highway, sails were again set … we ran upriver, chased by a spritsail barge which later turned out to be the Lady Daphne … we went through ‘our opening a little before they did theirs. A friend of mine took a cracking set of pictures of Whimbrel going through … our engine was running and prop was engaged!

Barges seemed to be everywhere on the short sail up to Limehouse from the GYC – a certain amount of tacking was needed: the river is horseshoe shaped, but as the mate said,”…could have put the engine on…” and waste fuel?

“Not likely…!”

The Ardwina near to Limehouse Dock … we chased round ‘onto’ her quarter giving the skipper a ‘fright’ we think!

The other day we pottered down with the last of the ebb and anchored off Higham Flats … I promptly abandoned the mate, to an anchor watch, while I went ‘ashore’ for an amble across the mud flats – hard clay mostly – to look at two old spritties that have lurked here for a half century or so… These are the Marianna and the Coombdale. The latter was a big boomie barge – that is she had a gaff main and mizzen.

The Marianna and the Coombdale on Higham Flats.

The lettering on the Coomdale’s transom was still evident for the last part of her name … tar was still attached to planking, especially at mud level where it appeared recent scouring has taken place…

Returning to base we sailed further back down river and poked into Cliffe Creek. We have walked the area and know it is essentially dished and free of debris. The tide was below the ‘flats’ making life decidedly easier … that was until we reached a point where I said, “enough…” much to my mate’s relief. Turning took some time: grounding the bow to use tide to do the work in the confined width then resulted in a short wait …

Sailing up Cliffe Creek early on the tide…

On the way in we’d passed the remains of a little barge resting sleepily in the cord grass along the western edge of the creek near the old brick and cement workings. Only one side was in view and what looked like one of her horses still crossed her deck… I haven’t my Sailing Barge Compendium with me, so a friend confirmed the vessel as an unregistered river barge, the Little George, abandoned to her long lingering death many moons ago.

Leaving the creek we sailed up to Grays and borrowed a mooring of the Thurrock Yacht Club. The next day, wet and dreary, was voted to be a rest day – we stayed put, apart from fetching water from the club!

Departing Grays, we sailed, under jib, across the river to fetch up in the shallows outside a little creek that wends its way a short distance into Swanscombe marshes – a place that is due to be an amusement park if the planners get their way… I then pottered off in the dinghy to investigate … the mate chose not to accompany me: it was by then drizzling somewhat!

Entering the creek…

Inside the creek…

The inside of the creek is shallow and muddy – in fact it appears to be a creek that is on the verge of death. Many craft are completely enveloped in reeds. A ‘Dutchman’ rests as if awaiting a refit, yet is clearly in a waterlogged state. Old fishing vessels are seeing out the last of there days. Amongst them I found several vessels in a sailing state … aboard one, a man called out, “You alright mate…?” He seemed a bit nonplussed about my pottering and thought I was in trouble having seen us sail up and anchor earlier!

Clearing out I returned. I’d only been away around forty minutes, short by my standards, an caught the mate out: I was almost aboard before she realised!

It didn’t take long to raise anchor and set sail … wafting past Greenhithe, a place to stop off at on the way back next week. Soon the Queen Elizabeth II bridge was looming above us and Crayfordness beyond loomed in the murk.

The QE2 bridge…

The mate had been on the helm since up anchoring so I heated soup on the stove and we munched on olive bread and sipped the hot brew as the bridge passed by … our passage ended at Erith, on a borrowed mooring off the club. This club, unlike the one we stopped by the previous day, was a hive of activity with many youngsters enjoying cadet week, we assumed. The thrills and spills that ensued was greeted by much mirth: it carried on the breeze as I watched, enjoying a pot of tea and a hunk of cake…

Two shots of Erith’s cadets enjoying the conditions…

My last comment: after two dreary days, some sunshine would be great, but as we stood wearing our oilies today the mate said, “… only the second time this summer…”

Clearly been spoilt by the weather during July and earlier this month… Ah well!

A little earlier than planned and it was the mate who said. “Let’s go today…” before the bacon had had a chance to begin sizzling under the grill…

So, that was that, we up anchored from our overnight berth in Stangate a little after low water and high tailed it out of the Thames’s largest tributary and set forth, I have to admit, motor sailing up Sea Reach. Upon crossing to the northern side, more or less where the PLA advise small craft to do so we set off for Mucking, diving in, under main sail, before setting the jib on a turn and broad reaching out past the Essex Wild Life Trust hide on the edge of their new Mucking ‘Marsh’ bird and wild life reserve.

We then sailed up to Gravesend, giving the engine a rest, apart from the last little bit … to a mooring of the Gravesend sailing Club. A passing boat called out, “… you’ll be alright there … boats away…” A wave of thanks, and they gone, carried away with the tide.

The water front along by the Gravesend Sailing Club and entrance to the locked marina basin.

Now what a place this turned out t be … friendly and most helpful. A chap made me a cup of tea (he even opened the bar … but I declined!) and I chatted to two members while the mate went off hunting for some stores. We filled our water cans and got rid of some rubbish … I was even shown around their yard where lurking under a cover sits a Finesse 21.

The Finesse 21, Josh, was threatened with the ‘big chop’ a couple of years ago, but a new owner has shown some interest, I was told, so maybe…

During the afternoon several spritsail barges came by. The Adieu sailed, resplendent in her perfect suit of canvass, then the mighty Lady Daphne motored by in a dying breeze – both clearly making for Southend where a barge match is due to take place. We’d seen a barge beating up the outer end of Sea Reach earlier. Finally the mightier Hydrogen came down river, dropping her torps’l before crossing the tide to run in alongside the ‘new’ hammer head off the town.

Adieu with her perfect setting suit of sails passing the Worlds End Pub…

Wind Power – Hydrogen with a back drop of some ‘wind mills’ …

The tinkling bells as the town’s old parish church rang out at 6 p.m. reminded me that things needed to be ‘stirred up’ in preparation for supper: the mate had obtained two luscious pork chops … Mmm lovely!

Evening coming on…

Well, yes, we did in a way: we berthed well before breakfast, at least the time we’ve become accustomed to having the first repast of the day… The mate called the marina at the top of the creek as we chugged up, fortunately catching an early bird. I’d spied a berth by then: there’s nearly always a berth or two on ‘A’ pontoon right in the approach.

No kingfishers were seen on this occasion … but there were plenty of waders. Seemingly dozens of those graceful little egrets. In amongst one bunch were several skulking giants – herons – which squawked indignantly as they lifted off…

Creeping into Conyer in the morning…

During the morning, after first varnishing both of Whimbrel’s hatches, I had a bumble around the marina’s boat park, as one does… I left the mate doing some chores – washing a few things and cleaning through… During my meanderings I found a Finesse 24 propped up and covered over: she’s an old friend and I take a look at her every summer … she’s been out of the water a couple of seasons by my reckoning.

The Quo Vadis on the Conyer hard standing…

During the afternoon period I took a bit of time out, leaving my mate with a book and wandered down to the entrance to the creek, looking at the three historic remains of spritsail barges on the way. The path passes through the grounds of the old brick workings – years ago I remember some buildings here and the furnace chimney was still standing – all long gone now  our boy used to run around the site.

On the way back I poked into the car parking area of the Blagden moorings wanting to get a little closer to an old barge mast that has been erected as a flag pole … did it come from the creek’s last barge the Gold Belt, I wondered… Close by in use as an edge barrier for a car park is the larger part of a keelson – from the Persevere, I thought…

Barge main mast in use as a flag pole…

A spritsail barge’s keelson…

Then I spied an unusual chunk of timber … you’d need to know ‘boats’ to recognise it for what it clearly was. It is a chunk of stern frame … it is standing on its aft face and the face that took the planks as they swept out from the flat bottom can be seen… It’ll serve its current master for many more years for sure.

A stern knee…

The second part of our summer cruising has got underway… After a quiet crossing from Smallgains Creek we had an equally quiet evening in the delightful and historic port of Queenborough, enjoying our supper at the town’s yacht club.

On the hammerhead, going ashore, we were met by Max, one of the harbour trust’s staff, and enjoyed a few minutes conversation – a friendly and helpful chap, as is Phil his compatriot. max knows we always have our dinghy in tow … he was ‘late’ on duty: the harbour had been strangely quiet he told us … out on the trots were a growing collection f visitors, few with dinghies, so a fair bt of trade had built up!

The next day, after a leisurely breakfast we set sail sailing off the buoy for a pleasant passage round the Swale with plans to take the flood up to Faversham’s Iron bridge Boat Yard. Boy it was a grand sail round, with a bare few minutes wait at the bridge … sailing through on a broad reach, wind on our starboard quarter,  (engine on tick-over) while another yacht, who failed to acknowledge our presence, steamed past us as if we weren’t there at the moment of entry between the piers – a charming chappy -we later passed him hard aground in the middle passage!

Round the Swale a little before low water…

The mate takes a well earned rest…

The Ship provided supper, at our expense of course!

Sunday dawned grey, but the sun was soon shinning and we set off early to walk round to the moorings at Oare Creek. There we met the owners of Josie, a Finesse 24 we know, enjoying a good chin wag and a cuppa. Leaving, we bumped into another Finesse owner, a F21 this time – with a promise to do a run to Conyer in September…

Next we walked inland for a wander around the Oare Gunpowder works and wildlife park. This was fascinating with a good visitors centre that clearly explained what went on around the site for around 120 years.

On the way back into Faversham we passed by the Purifier Building. This is the old gas works gas cleaning shed…

The Purifier Building.

The Mayhi under restoration by the trust…

The building is now used by the Faversham Creek Trust and upstairs on a new floor built in a boat builder, Alan Thorne, is hard at work  he was today too and he let us I for a look around. Two of Alan’s creations were on display; a little pram dinghy, of around 2m; and a split dinghy which nested together, designed by, I believe, Graham Byrnes. looked just the thing for all those yachting folk out there who would love a ‘hard’ dinghy, but do not want to tow…

While there Alan was at work on something I recognised … he was glassing up a dagger board for a Prout Ranger – a pair of which a local Oare owner wanted as light weight alternatives for the standard marine aluminium ones for his craft… proof indeed that a good boat builder can do anything, within reason, if asked…

The little pram dinghy…

The dinghy nest…

The Trust is already at work on an old wooden centre board sloop which is being renovated and rebuilt. The ultimate aim is for the basin beside the Purifier Building, down to the Pent Bridge, to be dredged and bring in traditional vessels. The company on the opposite bank are supporting this plan and are willing to ‘give up’ the waterfront to allow for the trusts activities…

When we leave, it’ll be with our usual sadness: we love visiting this gem of a place…

The other day at Queenborough, upon our arrival from the Blackwater, I found that the much vaunted new pontoon was still not in place … however the first section has arrived with the other two pieces awaiting a tow from Dover.

Once these are positioned, the harbour office will be placed upon the deck. With this, I was told by Max, one of the harbour team, there is to be an ablution block… It will contain all the reqirements for keeping ones body clean! I was led to believe that the cost of an alongside berth will be in the region of £24 … boat sizes wasn’t stated, but the mooring charges depend upon length. Whether or not boaters on the mooring trots will be able to use these facilities, was not made clear…

What is clearly apparent is that the harbour trust do seem to be putting in a lot of effort to upgrade the facilities available…

The Queenborough YC now has a finger attached to their old hammer head, which is for members’ use only…

Gate token are still needed…

On the above note … we had a meal at the Flying Dutchman … our first for a few seasons … it’ll be our last for a few more now: the quality was poor and we were too tired and **** off to complain – typically English of us! I’ve been told that the carvery is ‘good’ but we didn’t go for that, instad had ‘fresh’ fish – well it was fresh once… Although the place has recently changed hands, the decor and general feel leaves a lot to be desired – it was noisy and there were small fry (I know we’ve all had them) running amok amongst the tables screaming and shouting… The beer was okay though!

We should have gone to Nic’s nice eatery just past the QP, where we have always enjoyed good food … “A pity!” my mate said.

Further, upon walking up into the town for stores for a couple of nights around Stangate, we found that the Queen Phillipa has been having a lot of work done to it. The place has been transformed into a very tasty B&B. I was shown round the rooms … Mmmmmmmmmm!

Downstairs, apart from a modern kitchen, was a gorgeous breakfast room for patrons. Outside, one of the buildings is to be converted into easy access rooms for the less able (…like Me!). Talking to the two owners, both local to the area, they are thinking of opening the facility to evening meals at a later stage… I have suggested that they contact people like the Medway & Swale Boating Association, Elite Sailing etc… The harbour trust too: they’ve not done that yet…

Next door a Cafe is being fitted out. This will be run by the owner of another joint a short distance away. I’m told food has a good reputation. It will be open in the evenings too… This facility will not be ready until December.

Developments like these need to move down the old high street … as Max agreed with me, “…down the south coast, this place would be a honey pot…”

Ah yes, a couple of days ago we took advantage of tide times and a reasonable wind direction to head back down to ‘home’ waters. The boat has been away for six weeks cruising around North Essex and the Suffolk rivers – time for a change.

Beautiful as those northern rivers are they all, apart from the Backwaters, lack something fundamental … saltings. A little they do have, but nothing as vast as those around the Lower Medway and around the Swale.

I was once told to “go north … to see bird life…” Boy, the Medway basin is by far the best place to see our feathered friends… Only the Mersea Quarters can out do anywhere for their numerous variety of gulls, but this morning I awoke to a cacophony of sound as a myriad of waders, gulls and geese set to in their morning chorus.

The evening before I’d watched a long line of avocet and russet fronted godwits feeding along the tide edge. Hundreds of geese sieved the mud flats below the line of barge remains on that side of the creek. Egrets strutted about, oblivious to all around and in amongst them oyster catchers and a few gulls fed too…

Grand. I hadn’t seen so many in one spot for weeks.

Birds along the shoreline…

This morning, whilst the mate cleared away our late breakfast things, I sailed gently into the saltings to find a succulent patch of glasswort (samphire) to go with the mate’s lunch: she loves the stuff. Nosing the dinghy into a patch of weed covered clay alongside a deep rill that has carved itself through what was once good sheep grazing land around 90 years ago, I stepped out into a world ht really belongs to no other than the birds… As I gently snipped enough stems with a pair of kitchen scissors to make a presentable bunch, my senses were attacked by the heady aromas that abounded, rich saline scents in the main…

Away over the saltings something had disturbed an oystercatcher, not to be out done, another rose, screaming. It wasn’t more than a trice and a huge flock of birds had begun gyrating around the sky … nothing obvious. A fox maybe? They live out here: food is in abundance!  I slipped back into the dinghy and sailed quietly away, watched from its perch by a resting bird, completely nonplussed by my fairly close, but non threatening presence…

Ah, it was great…

Getting back aboard I watched the departure of a large yacht which had come into the anchorage late the previous evening. I think she was from Portugal: that country’s flag seemed to be on the spreader hoist … her ensign, a large red X on white had an emblem in the upper white…

I hope they enjoyed it too…

A Stangate departure…

Wandering around the yard surrounding the Tide Mill Yacht Harbour I stumbled upon a little treasure. Behind a tent I discerned the friendly thwack of a mallet on a good sized chisel. Rounding a corner I found a chap hard at work…

After a short chat: I had no wish to stop the work flow I was able to take a look inside the vessel, gazing down into her belly past deck beams and shelves. The cabin top, a substantial affair, was still in place. One coaming was in need of some piecing out … the structure forward deck beam was about to be removed too … easier to do now than in a year or two’s time for sure.

Looking into what is the fore cabin area…

The cabin top structure remains as was…

A shipwright had part caulked the hull to allow the owner to get on with painting out the inside of the hull aft, “…after I finish the horn timber…” he told me as he bent to show me the gnarled old one sitting in a pile of ‘dead’ wood.

Stern view of the yacht’s hull … caulking cotton can be seen in the seams…

The mast sat on trestles ready for further coats of an oil based varnish, a job between other work…

The boat, apparently, is a little over 100 years old. It was built by a Folkstone timber merchant during a lull in wood sales as a speculative job utilising the skills of a couple of local shipwrights. Yacht builders did this, but I’ve never heard of a wood merchant branching out in a like fashion! The yacht is modelled on a smack, but as can be seen her bow has that Edwardian look… She looked right.

The hull from forward…

I departed with a comment about hoping to see them on  the water sometime…