The responsibilities of a boat’s skipper was brought home in the news the other day and the story would, surely, be a bit of a surprise to many.
Small craft owners, whether sailors or motorboaters will know that underway, the skipper is in charge and not only that, is responsible, under law, for the well being of others aboard.
The law of the sea was clearly not understood by a refugee who elected to be in charge of a boat attempting to cross the English Channel during 2022. The boat, like many, came apart and several fellow refugee seekers died. The ‘skipper’ was charged with manslaughter and has since been tried under English law and convicted. It is the first time this has been done…
The MCA (the UK maritime authority) showed a mock up of the typical ‘safety’ gear carried, the gear amounted to, dinghy sailor buoyancy jackets, a bailer, couple of 5 L fuel cans and not much more.
I wonder how many boaters ‘play’ at this responsibility in respect to what the MCA and other organisations recommend?
The only organisation we now belong to is the RNSA…
The MCA and other organisations have recommendations about what should be carried by certain sized vessels – in the big ship world I worked in there are regular checks by statutory authorities – us mere boaters aren’t, unless chartering. But those recommendations if not complied with in a sufficiency can and will bite if an incident occurs…
This is how it is done aboard Whimbrel – an A5 notebook makes an admirable log book…
How many people keep a log of an activity, however small. A sail out on the tide can be as dangerous as a coastal passage. The MCA is quite clear and they use the words, You SHALL… (and there is a list).
As the winter has run along, bits of Whimbrel’s safety gear have been checked, serviced or renewed.
‘Burning’ off the boathook varnish.
Although not an item many would consider to be part of the safety kit, the humble boat hook surely is in many respects. Ours needed stripping of old coats and has been re-varnished.
Re-varnishing in progress – conservatory is purloined as a drying room!
We still carry flares pack for coastal sailing – currently in date and dry inside waterproof container…
The spare life jackets have come home for cleaning, checking over – making sure auto-inflation parts are screwed in tight and in date (although I am told by providers that provided considered fit for purpose, these can run over). Jackets are inflated for 24 hours before packing into covers.
Inflated life jackets…Next day – still inflated!
The skipper’s and mate’s life jackets get same treatment.
After the spring chart corrections come out, the chart sets held aboard will be corrected.
How many boaters still carry paper charts, I wonder? How many keep a record of where one is when on passage? The MCA say ‘You SHALL…’
Not a safety item as such, but essential for helm comfort.
Of course, there are other safety related items, but I do not wish to bore, but make a point, jog inactivity or just keep my readers amused…
As each year rolls over into the next, the numbers of small craft, fibre glass boats on the whole, abandoned by owners has grown steadily. Old wooden boats get abandoned too, however, these, in time, will break down and in any case, as a last resort an owner can ‘safely’ burn.
I wrote an article about this problem in a magazine, now long out of print, back in 2010. It was published in Anglia Afloat in the May/June 2011 issue.
At that time I had not seen anything in the press about the growing problem that was clearly there to be seen, however, over the past decade it has become a hottish issue with even the BBC getting in on the act. See inside one of the two web blog links below.
Walking the sea wall from Maldon to Heybridge Basin this weekend I photographed the head of Heybridge Creek (River Blackwater) where there is a plethora of dumped craft – wooden on the whole – and running round to Herring Point there were a couple of abandoned fibreglass yachts and what appeared to be an old plywood cruiser. In the back channel two old sailormen idly rust and rot away…
Head of the tidal River Blackwater (Heybridge Creek) with its wrecks…
There have been trials with chopping fibreglass up and reusing it – this was not very successful. Another trial was trialing chopping up the glass and fibres and ‘extracting them’ for reuse. This seemed to be working small scale – upscaling hasn’t as far as I know hit the sector yet…
A little cruiser in the throes of disintegration.
Meanwhile around the world, for this is a global phenomenon, authorities are becoming agitated…
Abandoned and stripped out…
A Woodbridge boatyard has for years been into the brokerage of small cruising vessels – of the type most brokers wouldn’t even look at. The yard can be found by the rail station!
Abandoned…
Now, a boat breakers based in Gosport, have begun a service where they match people with abandoned projects. The company has been disposing of craft for nearly twenty years it says and they have had some success in these endeavours.
Whilst I applaud the Gosport company, I would ask: what is the success rate of a match? However, they’re doing something – similar in my view to the Woodbridge enterprise.
One thing is certain, it will not be long before some form of legislation comes into the arena – it will affect us all.
Titchmarsh Marina Yard has for a while now been clearing their yard of abandoned craft. All fittings are removed – wooden boats are cut up for burning and fibreglass vessels are cut into pieces and go off into landfill…
Other yards are active in these endeavours too. Yacht clubs will need to step up and do likewise!
The operators of my new home berth have announced in their regular news letter that unclaimed dinghies will be disposed of and a process is being put into place to remove the craft of non-payers (mooring fees). Some of these craft have clearly loitered for some time. One appears in my article!
The big smack, Telegraph, along the wall near Heybridge Basin.
Along the sea wall near Heybridge Basin sits a big old wooden smack, the Telegraph. She has languished for years on the river – firstly for a couple of decades along the promenade at Maldon and more recently in a mud berth from which she ay never leave down stream.
The vessel is subject to possible ‘enforced’ sale but the owner as far as I am aware is not ‘playing’ – apparently there was (is) a buyer. This is a common problem. The UK Ships Heritage organisation is aware, but they are powerless.
Looking at the Telegraph this weekend, it was clear that her hull is out of shape with a hogged deck line especially to starboard and it was apparent that she does not often lift in her berth judging by hull/mud lines…
A few days into the New Year and an email tumbled from my letter box from a reader of my latest book, Sailing through life…
The chap and his wife have been in regular contact over the past decade or so and upon the sad death from cancer of a sister, they had donated her collection of my works to a prestigious London Yacht Club they belonged to – the Little Ship Club.
I remember meeting the lady not long before her death for Richard had asked for a couple of books and on a research trip to Kent (for Rochester to Richmond) we detoured to their home. Richard’s wife’s family were part of the ‘Parker’ clan of Bradwell – farmers and barge owners, May Flower and Veronica included.
Richard’s sister was being read ‘Salt Marsh & Mud’ by the couple during her lucid ‘well’ periods… That in itself left me rather choked. It was a reminder of childhood and adult sailing times in the waters of the Lower Thames, Medway and Swale waterways.
However, their words humbled me. It was tinged with much gratitude too at their taking the trouble to actually say something…
This is the content:
‘Hi Nick, Firstly, a very Happy and Healthy New Year to you and Christobel.
I’ve just finished reading your latest book that you kindly posted to me before Christmas. Personally, I think it is the best of all your great works and was a real page turner.
The advice that you give about prostate cancer and regular checks – I have my annual blood test for it on the 18th -is so important and I just hope that your readers take proper notice and follow up with their own checks.
As you might imagine, both Sue and I greatly miss Greenwitch and the east coast and so your writings take on an even greater value to us both as our sailing life recedes further into the past.
The wonderful thing about all your books is their ability to be read and re-read again and again without losing any of their charm. In that sense, they compare very much with Maurice Griffith, H. Alker Tripp and, of course, the great Frank Cowper.
We both send to the two of you our very best wishes and our heartfelt hope that you now remain fit and well. With best regards, Richard & Sue‘
Richard and Sue have with much sadness sold their beloved Cornish Cutter (30′) Greenwitch and hung up their sailing boots. Age and health issues caught up with them, as it will us all, but they live the life through their enjoyment of sailing and coastal literature.
Thank you seems not to be enough, but it is the simplest and most heartfelt…
Austin Macauley YouTube clip for book:
Books are available online, at book shops and through me…
At the beginning of 2023, although the mate and I were unhappy with the way the Island Yacht Club on Canvey Island were treating our ‘boy’ and that we have never forgiven the club at the way we had been treated over a ‘problem’ in 2019, we weren’t about to cast off and sail away permanently…
We were keeping a low profile whilst continuing as club volunteers with a continuous need for mooring repairs.
Sailing out of Smallgains Creek during early January.
We had a major ‘fortieth’ year refit planned for Whimbrel during the spring. it being forty years since the boat was ordered. I also had an impending new knee operation and an unknown was how long I would need to recuperate. It was going to be tight, possibly.
The year began with a refit for the main companionway hatch. This was written about at the time.
The refurbished companionway hatch.
As always, we fitted our lives around the joys of walking and sailing, plus our weekly Saturday club work party. Little did we know, this latter ‘joy’ was nearing an abrupt end.
A wintery scene at the top of Fenn Creek, S. Woodham Ferrers.Waiting for the kettle…
At the beginning of March, my youngest brother jumped at the chance to come sailing – something that has become almost a rite of passage over the past few years. Two nights were bagged in fine weather. We made it to Queenborough and to Upnor, enjoying great sailing.
Sailing off the Medway YC pontoon…
During the spring I was reminded of the honour ‘bestowed’ upon me by Yachting Monthly the previous year. I was, in their opinion, one of twenty-five people who’d furthered yachting around the UK and beyond. It came up in conversation at a work party – few knew and even less cared, apart from the enquirer!
The Island Yacht Club themselves, although told at the time, followed the award up with complete silence…
Our faces had never fitted. An old hand took me aside years ago and suggested we got out – as he himself did not so long afterwards (based at Brightlingsea now) If not in with a certain corp, then you were a nothing. We were generally happy with that situation, as are the majority of club members around and about.
My knee op was looming and it wasn’t long before I was under the knife…
On an early exercise walk…
I wasn’t out of action for long and with the exercises and day by day longer walks was up to five kilometres at the fifth week of convalescence. At that point, we booked a date for Whimbrel to be lifted out.
It was a little under eight weeks after my knee op that the boat was set on chocks ashore. During the work period – just four weeks – I had a bout of trouble with blood pressure medication caused by my GP Practice.
Further, we had problems with club members treating the compound as a race track with resultant dust clouds coating boat with fresh coatings taking place. Signs did nothing. Finally, I made an official complaint, verbally at first then formally in writing. That caused a stir… Old wounds were opened and vengeance against us was sniffed (and, privately, alluded to).
Our 2019 RIB perpetrators were now the head honchos of the club…
Whimbrel ready for the water.
The problems caused me angst and my disturbed sleepless nights returned – these began after the 2019 RIB bombing and then being bullied (cowered) into ‘shutting up’ about it all … during my cancer treatment…
There are some ‘nice’ people at the Island Yacht Club.
So, with my sister and two friends aboard (for their week of sailing) Whimbrel departed the Island Yacht Club for good.
As we left, I had just one look back down the line of creek buoys – buoys that I had looked after for fifteen years overseeing upgrade from painted drums to proper pucker floats… Never mind the estimated £100, 000 of Saturday work hours freely given. Now, it seems: for what!
Within a week of sailing away, my mind cleared and I was freed to sleep almost normally. It was magical. A leaden sinker miraculously became buoyant and the trauma suffered with the RIB attack and its aftermath floated free and drifted away on the tide…
Sailing away from Smallgains Creek – we never return.
One of my biggest regrets is the ‘joy’ I put into my writing about Smallgains Creek and our club mooring: they feature throughout all my estuary books. I don’t read back through them and probably never will.
Will I write about Whimbrel’s forty years at the Island Yacht Club sometime, maybe … maybe from another base, maybe!
Having booked a permanent berth at The Blackwater Marina before departing the Thames, we visited, as we oft had over the years, for a stopover. In fact we came in several times during the summer – for the last two visits the manager refused to charge us as we were about to pay our berthing charge. She said, it was ours in any case!
Very kind…
Whimbrel on a visit to what was to be ‘our’ berth…
On one visit with a flat calm, we motored past all the creek navigation buoys and marked them on the satnav whilst noting numbers/names. Later I inputted the details. Useful: however, they’re treated as a guide now for Whimbrel has found her liking for these waters…
It should be remembered that Lawling and Mayland Creek have been thoroughly explored by dinghy as well as on Whimbrel over many years and has been written about (Yachting Monthly and in my books).
During our time up on the Backwaters, Stour and Orwell, we popped into Suffolk Yacht Harbour to meet up with a cousin, a son of my mother’s brother, who had had a passion for sailing but never had a large boat. Retired, he has taken the plunge.
Christobel with my cousin and his wife next to the acquisition.
Their daughter, up on the boat’s deck, had sailed the Round Ireland Race recently and with her skipper won their class… The boat was sailed up to Inverness with a skipper aboard, then by family with friends down the Caledonian to the West Coast and down to Tarbert transiting the Crinan… My cousin is promising me a sail from Tarbert next year!
We had an interesting departure from Titchmarsh during August: Christobel had a ‘whoopsie’…
Briefly: The boat was all prepared for departure with sails ready to hoist – we were going to sail out.
Clearing Titchmarsh marina under sail…
As Whimbrel began going astern out of berth, Christobel stepped onto deck edge, late, forward of shrouds, slipped and ended up hanging down side of boat from the top rail wire!
I had to manoeuvre further astern to get the turn back in, whereupon a couple of helpers took her. She got wet, finally…
The episode and changing lasted ten minutes, and we sailed out cleanly at second attempt!
New Zealander, Paul Mullings had five days aboard – here passing the famous Pye End at sun rise…
While berthed at Halfpenny Pier at Harwich, a large forty-foot boat struck Whimbrel’s port bow a glancing blow. A stanchion base was deformed. However, later when looking closely, the deck edge had been stressed too.
Repairs to deck edge – re-securing and then epoxy coating…
We wandered up into Colchester’s Hythe using the city authorities conveniently placed pontoon for a couple nights. It is a lovely spot if mud isn’t a problem to you. The creek bed provides a feeding ground for much intermixed bird life – waders competing with many types.
The Wivenhoe SC played hast to us a couple of times, once with a fellow Finesse 24, Windsong. It was after that visit we attended a small rally of our class at Brightlingsea…
The summer dawdled on, we took life easy in all respects for I was being very careful with my new knee!
Approaching Stansgate Point on a sultry day with a zephyr of a breeze…
There were days when we sat at a mooring or at anchor just allowing life to carry on around. There was much reading enjoyed by both…
The latter part of the summer was spent dawdling up to Maldon and around the Blackwater to West Mersea. It was blissful. Then, the summer had to end!
Moving into early autumn, we had an enjoyable balmy weekend away to see the Colne Barge and Smack matches – something I had never experienced, then a cousin and my youngest brother spent a cracking weekend aboard, taking in West Mersea and Brightlingsea with a wonderful romp home up the Blackwater.
When stowing our gear, with the two boys, I dropped our weekend egg supply! They fell into the fore cabin bilge which made interesting cleaning, clearing the ‘white’ especially from under the ribs!!
Morning coffee at that delightful cafe opposite West Mersea church – note the eggs…Reefed main romp back from Brightlingsea.
After the trip with the two boys, the dinghy was stowed on its trolley and ‘berthed’ in the marina storage area, where in time, much varnish work was stripped back and coats built up. The oars, rudder, and dagger board were serviced at home. Finally the inside was repainted … ready for the new season.
The dinghy overhaul received many admiring glances and questions as to her origin…
During the autumn we got out as the weather (and space) allowed, getting away under sail, and, on a sultry afternoon, I sailed back into the berth single handed too…
Sailing out of our mooring past the manager’s floating home.A quick snap as I came into the berth – I have a short line which can be hitched to outer cleat, holding Whimbrel… The fendering on pontoon is perfect.
During the middle of the autumn, my latest book, ‘Sailing through life…’ finally came out.
See:
On our jaunts out on the boat and further walking exercises round the borders of Lawling and Mayland creeks, it became obvious that the area was a hotbed of overwintering birds. Many species of duck and of course the ubiquitous Brent goose!
Huge swirls of dunlin, knot and other waders (usually mixed up) have regularly been witnessed while sailing in the creek.
One thing was sure, I wasn’t missing out on the spectacles oft seen down off the end of Canvey Island. (A place I now rarely have the need to go…)
A huge flock of brent flew over the mast and out over the saltings.
So, how do we feel in our new home?
Happy. At peace. No stress. No hassles. No bullying or the threats of. Manager remarked that she’d suffered workplace bullying and in its unlikely occurrence, to report immediately…
Yes, we miss the chaps we worked with on the work parties, but the rest of the rot, not one jot.
We’ve still to ‘test’ the yard hard for our spring bottom refit (antifouling), but the manager has assured us it should all be to our satisfaction.
We feel blessed with our lot.
The Blackwater Marina under a moody sky.
Back in 2010 in the introduction to, ‘Mudlarking – Thames Estuary Cruising Yarns‘, published by Amberley, I wrote:
‘The pleasures of an arrival in a creek fringed with saline plants, with their heady scents of summer, are enough for this sailor and his mate. The sight of traditional craft, smacks, old wooden yachts, classics or otherwise, or the ubiquitous, evocative spritsail barge adds immensely to the aura: to fetch up with any of these, in the same anchorage, adds timelessness…‘
Well, we are now berthed within ‘that paradise’ – I should have moved us three years ago, we realise this now…
Finally, Whimbrel and her crew would like to wish all readers a very happy New Year and a peaceful coexistence with those around you.
Calor’s crazy decision of a couple years back now caused more than a stir in the boating circles, but it was in the caravan and motorhome world that the storm of dissent was loudest, and, earliest onto the block.
Whimbrel’s gas locker arrangements.
I tried my luck with the traditional boating press to no avail before getting the South Coast sailing news to do a piece.
As for the Royal Yachting Association, they were initially non starters with seemingly little care, ignorant in their response to myself, until finally a ‘Calor’ statement was published by them last April – I had disposed of my forty plus year membership by then!
So, as someone who had only one choice to make when supplies of the ‘small’ calor cylinders ceased, that was to change to the smaller and more expensive Campingaz, I have kept my ear to the ground.
Fortunately, we built up a bottle reserve and found a supplier who ‘never ran out’ of the 3.9/4.5 cylinder sizes.
Then from my friend in Aukland, New Zealand came a tip off…
A snippet of news on the East Coast Pilot site – not a place I visit often. So I went trawling towards the caravan brigade for they have been very proactive.
I found and interesting item. From Admin of the Caravan and Motorhome chat pages:
‘Seems Calor have u-turned on this one which is good news for many I am certain, from Calor:
In February we announced plans to streamline our cylinder range to phase out the 3.9kg propane and 4.5kg butane sizes.
Customers using these cylinder sizes, particularly in the boating and caravanning communities, told us they were frustrated by the limited availability of alternatives to these sizes of cylinder. We listened to their concerns and reviewed options for returning these cylinders back into circulation.
We’re now pleased to announce that we’ll continue to supply the 3.9kg propane and 4.5kg butane sizes.
What’s changed?
Since the announcement, we have continued to fill a small number of these cylinders. And, following recent modernisation to our filling centres, we can now increase the supply of these cylinders.
We’ll also start to refurbish and return cylinders back into the network to improve availability. This will take a little time as we are investing in a significant capacity increase in reconditioning facilities, but we’re working hard to return supply to normal as soon as possible.‘
It would appear that Calor are about to announce something: there is nothing other than the statements of early 2023 on pages currently.
Also: I know that many marinas have changed their supply lines and stock a greater amount of Campingaz, so, whether or not marinas will go back to Calor, if the pull out is rescinded, remains to be seen.
Stay alert!
Note: from fellow sailor, Brian, the Westerly Owners Association carries the same worded message.
A little while ago there was a warning in the ‘yachting press’ about boat safety and in particular safety on inland waterways craft.
This is nothing new: Marine Industry Federation and MAIB (Maritime accident investigation branch) of the MCA have raised concerns earlier this year.
While down in deepest ‘land locked’ Wiltshire recently visiting family in Devizes, we saw a blaze taking place whilst passing over the Kennet & Avon Canal. It turned out that a most serious fire had taken place aboard a canal boat moored near the road bridge.
Three pictures courtesy of Theresa Ardley
It is not known what caused the blaze, however, many of the occupants of these ‘live-aboards’ use wood for heating and gas for cooking. Stacks of wood are often seen atop the vessels as well as a miasma of other ‘junk’…
I was told that an intact gas bottle was seen floating by the wrecked vessel, indicating, perhaps, that it wasn’t a gas based conflagration.
It is pretty obvious that the inferno within caused partial destruction of the vessel as well as its sinkage – that, however, was most likely due to fire service flooding when combatting the blaze.
As soon as the book hit the streets, people began asking for signed copies, which is nice. Interestingly the hard copy was as much in demand as the soft cover …
I’ve had two glitches: a few weeks ago, I sent all my stock to Salty Dogs Christmas season shop in Maldon – fronted by Photographer Den Philips – keeping back copies to cover the orders I still had to fulfill.
I need to go back a ‘bag’ another couple of copies to keep punters happy!
I had one email saying:
‘I have bought several of your books as Christmas gifts and he (Dad) also enjoyed a recommendation I saw on your website for another boat book. Anyway, if you could sign a copy for him ‘Mike’ that would be much appreciated…’
Then this fairly fulsome piece from a lady on the the first half of her read…
‘I thought your first chapter was very thoughtful and encouraging to get men to get checked. It can’t have been easy writing about your feelings. I’ve told friends your story (a brief version) to encourage them too. I think of the time when you were going through it all and I can’t imagine what it must have been like for both of you in different ways. I’m just so glad you are so well now.’
Then, continuing:
‘I’ve read more and remember putting a bucket up the mast to go through the bridge in the Swale. Your time on the barge was so much nicer than a weekend I spent on Xylonite…
You provoke so many memories that I read the books twice to really enjoy the books properly usually with east coast rivers open too so I can see your route or a map for the walking.
Thank you for writing another one.’
Thank you!!
I had a card from a sailor in The Netherlands, thanking me for the safe arrival of a book, he said: ‘I have received your book in good condition! Now I am looking forward to a lot of reading pleasure…’
Another chap and his wife contacted asking for a signed copy, wrote:
‘I hope that you will keep sailing and writing those great books of yours because we’ll keep reading them!! ‘
A moody day on the Blackwater…
Yes, kind reader, I will keep sailing for as long as good grace and health coexist, I promise… As for further writing, hmm, I don’t know – too early yet.
And, thank you to all those who have so far bought a copy of this book, it is greatly appreciated.
Whilst away down in West Sussex a little while back during the early autumn, I alighted on a book that looked interesting in a historical way. Great Years in Yachting by John Nicholson. It was published by Nautical Publishing Ltd, of Lymington in 1970. It is therefore still under copyright and I acknowledge with thanks all photographs of book pages.
The book – bit jaded but completely intact.
This, of course, is the Nicholson of that famous Gosport (and Southampton) yacht designing and building fame. John is the son of Charles E. Nicholson, the doyen of yachting – designing, building and racing, as well as family cruising. The Nicholson’s owned and ran the firm of Camper and Nicholsons based adjacent to the Gosport/Portsmouth ferry.
Copy N0.2 – David Watts. Wonder who he was!
The book is ostensibly about Charles Nicholson and the life of the firm during his period of chairmanship (There were three brothers) – John assumed control in the fulness of time, retiring c 1970, but covers a little of the companies pre-history too.
The ‘great’ man…
The family yachts get a reasonable and interesting coverage. John and his sister Mary were clearly the sailors amongst the Nicholson siblings: they were regularly crewing…
Charles made the mistake of many a (gung-ho) sailor and frightened the wits out of his young wife and she rarely stepped foot aboard a yacht following a very bad passage…
How many people have done this, I wonder!
The family yachts during John’s younger years.
The shear size and volume of the Nicholson production at Gosport and Southampton was phenomenal. The Southampton yard was opened as yachts grew in size and, more importantly, draft. Gosport’s slip could manage up to 15′, just.
The Margharita of 1913. Eventually passed to Owner of shipping line, Reardon Smith and was converted for training use.
There is a chapter on ‘Captains and Skippers’… Up until after the cessation of hostilities of the second world war, crews were professional, although amateurs were creeping in. The early interlopers were generally termed ‘Hired Assassins’ or later, ‘pier-head jumpers’ to be kinder and less derogatory. The day of the professional was certainly cropped after a strike of the crew of a mid 1930s Americas Cup Challenger. She was essentially the better yacht, but still lost!
The Port of London Authority tender, Nore, in which the young Queen Elizabeth II was given a tour of the London River.
I was amazed at the attitude of ‘build at no expense’ and the huge alterations carried out after a year on the racing circuit, but, it must be remembered that the worth of such men as Tommy Sopwith and his industrial contemporaries was immense. Akin to the Oligarchs washing around today.
Charles E. Nicholson helming Candida against Britannia and Cambria. The deck edge is awash. The attire worn seems absolutely ridiculous today!
Charles Nicholson was involved with all of the Endeavour Americas Cup projects and the last, Endeavour II, was faster and technically better than the American vessel, however, the aluminium mast of Ranger gave her an advantage in less heel in the generally light wind sailing in which the cup was sailed…
The two Endeavours…One of the firm’s steam yachts.
Camper & Nicholsons not only built the big classes and steam/motor yachts, but 12, 8 and 6 metre vessels, as well as cruising vessels for the less wealthy, however, these were still on the large size if you compare to say a yacht from an east coast yard.
Two fine looking motor yachts.
The book ends with a short chapter on the ;Sound in the shipyard’ where John reminiscences on the lost cacophony produced by riveting, plate bending, hammering of the caulkers and the huge circular saws…
The firm moved with the times and a marina had filled the water off their Gosport Yard and they had slipped smoothly into the use of GRP.
The latter is not surprising for the firm had always been innovative using laminated timbers and diagonal planking etc throughout the early 1900s.
I was left with one huge overriding feeling of this lost world. The definite demarcation of the haves and have-nots – the ‘stench’ – not in a nasty way – of privilege…
Is it worth reading if you can find a copy, well, yes!
On the book’s launch day, a box packed full of the finished article arrived. Even though this is my seventh book, it was still an exciting moment to carefully open the box and lift out and hold a copy for the first time.
Holding a hard copy of Sailing through life…
It was a book that was very nearly ‘binned’ due huge angst I felt about the way a number of yachting folk treated me (us both actually) after I wrote a blog asking people not to go away sailing overnight when not allowed during the first Covid 19 period. This was termed the ‘Cummings Effect’ after that man’s lockdown failings – something which has already been raised at the public enquiry currently taking place under Baroness Hallett.
Interestingly, the enquiry will be covering, ‘…the effects transgressors had on the law abiding population…’
A local man publicly threatened to burn Whimbrel and admitted the fact to a yachting journalist, who, sadly, did not specifically talk to me about the incident. He later admitted that he should have listened to my truthful facts…
The ‘gentleman’ who made the threat was somebody who I once looked up to as a fellow spirit of the waters. He claimed I had informed the authorities about his transgression … an absolute and utter lie, as he well knows.
This came about after the Marine Section of Essex Police visited his yacht club wanting to speak to a number of boat crews about sailing away overnight for a weekend over Whitsun Bank Holiday, 2020. I strongly suspect that the informer, if there was one, was a member of that club: I was informed much later that club officers were scurrying around trying to stop boats going out!
At the time there were various yotty blog and Facebook ‘boasts’ doing the rounds with pictures of anchorages with boats and their AIS (automatic identification system) plots. Kent police ‘raided’ Queenborough, asking for help. Thames VTS had them too, surely. Stupid buggers!
One of my favourite yarns…
There was some vitriol on the ‘air waves’ too, by people who hadn’t even bothered to read my blog – they just wanted to wade in and vent their spleens.
There followed a vociferous and frightening verbal attack out on the water, the chap’s wife screamed at him to ‘stop it…’ Then, Essex Police treated the incidents as harassment…
All these people, to quote a news report I read, are no better than scum, essentially the cesspit of humanity. A damned good description.
I was still receiving my cancer treatment, so, ‘Thanks guys’, for they were all ‘men!’ You made our lives hell…
Inside, chapter 1, which is strong message to men and women about prostate cancer.
Following all of this, I completed magazine work that I had agreed to, but I have not written anything new for a magazine since, and current I remain in an indifferent mind to that world…
The book essentially covers my ‘battle’ with prostate cancer and is written as a severe warning to men: for me it was a close call…
There are various tales, some of which took place before my cancer and the over-lapping Covid period, others are tales and reminiscences during these episodes: both impinged in their own specific ways.
A day sailing aboard the Blue Mermaid.
We enjoyed a ‘mid-covid-breather’ day aboard the Sea Change Sailing Trust’s barge Blue Mermaid. It was a scintillating day with just another two ‘passengers’ crewing alongside the normal three. There were still certain ‘distancing’ rules in place where appropriate.
We enjoyed a little Finesse meet…
It’s during the last few chapters that I get into the nuts of what it was like, as a sailor and walker, during the pandemic, and I discuss the ‘attacks’ made on us and the disgraceful attitude of Essex Police.
The end…
The ending is optimistic for the future, full of thankfulness for our escape from Covid harm.
Now, coming up to five years on from my diagnosis and initial treatment, My PSA is essentially zero and I am continuing to head confidently towards the future with many more blissful years with my mate beside me…
Some many years ago we fitted a carpet into the main cabin aboard Whimbrel – it was something we did after I read in one of Francis B. Cooke’s books about ‘comfort afloat of an evening…’ In any case, it is almost a common sense action. Cooke believed in carpet slippers too!
A carpet makes such a difference below and we would not do without one now. We tend to wear ‘below’ shoes after the day’s passage has been made and movement is largely between cabin and cockpit.
The first carpet was cut out of an offcut from a piece we had ‘loafing’ about. It was the wrong type, but sufficed for a few seasons. It and another length are used by the mate when working under the boat, antifouling…
Current main cabin carpet. Christobel is reading the Times – so we must have been in a harbour somewhere…
The current covering is made from floor runner rubber backed carpet – in two pieces for when main run done, I couldn’t find a longer piece. The join has been lifting and caused a number of tripping moments this last season – indicating time for action.
Next season’s comfort could not be jeopardised!
After carrying out a prolonged search, I found a company that sold ‘cut to length’ pieces. The only catch was a piece with a greater width than needed. Hey, but what the heck, it would do the job.
Old pieces of carpet laid out after being given a good vacuum at home.
On a visit to Whimbrel this last weekend to do a couple of jobs, the old carpet was rolled up and brought home. (The bilge was vacuumed out too…)
I began the cutting to shape process by removing the rubber edge from the carpet. Then carefully laying the old as a pattern on the new, trimming was carried out…
The mate caught me on camera trimming to shape…
On my next boat visit, the new will be checked for fit and trimmed if needed, then returned home for winter storage.
The carpet ready to be checked aboard Whimbrel before winter storage.
The old carpet is likely to go back aboard for it helps to keep the cabin floor clean, needing a vacuum from time to time.
At the end of a season, we have always washed the carpet – it being actually machine washable – however, hand scrubbing and rinsing is best, I have found, it being my job!
Last year when on a road passage between Arundel and Devizes, we passed through Midhurst, a delightful little town situated in the West Sussex National Park.
Investigating later, it was discovered to be not so far from Jane Austen’s childhood home. Bingo: a place both myself and the mate have wanted to visit…
So, a year on.
The Austen family home after the death of the father.
The family was uprooted and moved to Bath by their father after he retired, however in a short time he died leaving all his females at the mercy of his sons. One especially: Edward having been adopted by the Knight’s of Chawton house (relatives by marriage) was extremely rich – as rich as Darcy in Pride & Prejudice…
It was at this house where Jane was able to settle into her writing. She recomposed her earlier works before getting them published.
In the house Jane had her own corner in the front parlour where she could write whilst watching the outside world move around her…
Jane’s writing corner… From it, she had a street view.
Her writing table is so small, a mere ‘Sherry glass’ affair. It was a good job, apparently, that Jane was a tidy and efficient worker.
I wondered what she would have made of a laptop…
We also took in Chawton House, where Jane and her sister Casandra often visited. Both were active aunts to their brother’s brood, especially after his wife died.
Jane’s favourite place to sit and read when at Chawton. The window overlooks the drive up to the house.
Chawton is on long lease from the Knight family to a charity foundation digging into the history of women writers. Fascinating stuff…
It was quite moving to stand close to her desk and look out of windows she herself had, long ago, developing her ideas as life went on around her…
It put me aboard Whimbrel, sailing along a salting edge, gazing at some all but non existent time rotted stumps of a vessel or wharf, wondering…
Autumn marks the end of the sailing season for most boaters. Others stay active. For many years now since my enforced early retirement from sea, Whimbrel and her crew fall into the latter category.
After my return from taking my youngest brother and a cousin away for a great late summer early autumn weekend on the River Blackwater, I have been giving the tender, Twitch, a bit of a going over. The poor girl has had a bit of a bashing this last season. Extraordinarily, the little tender will be thirty years old next year!
It takes me a bit of time to move through the season of summer and get autumn inside my head. It has been especially difficult this year due to the ‘second summer’ we’ve enjoyed in Essex’s corner of Britain.
But, the autumnal jobs have to be progressed … the summer’s damage to the tender’s gunnels has been sanded back and coats topped up. The thwarts too. Then all was overcoated.
Slipping out of our new base at the Blackwater Marina, Maylandsea.
In between times the mate and I enjoyed a sail out on the tide, followed by a recent weekend away during a very unseasonable warm period. Before leaving though, we took Whimbrel’s mainsail off and fitted her old one: all three sails are due a make-over and wash at Wilkinsons Sails in Faversham.
Tide’s were later afternoon, so we dropped out to the area of Lawling Creek where one can comfortably sit at anchor protected from virtually all directions.
As we dropped anchor, the sun began to set…
There was little breeze left towards the end of the day, a bit of a blowy one at that, but as forecasted it died! Barely a lap against the lands of the boat’s clinker planks was heard overnight…
The morning was quite like it should be in summer. Blazing sunshine, temperatures towards the middle 20’s and NO wind! We managed to more or less sail (drift) out of Lawling then puttered down towards the sea.
A little after passing the Tollesbury Pier cardinal, a breeze filled in from the South-east. Great, we were sailing properly and tacked out to clear of Sales Point.
There were quite a lot of water-borne activity with several barges seen too.
Coming back up the R. Blackwater towards the end of the afternoon.
After a sublime evening in Lawling again, we made our way back to our berth on the Monday morning, breakfasting on bacon rolls after berthing…
So, home came the newer sail cover for a wash and coat of waterproofing.
Cover, cleaned and reproofed…
The tender’s floor boards, rudder, dagger board and oars came home too: they were in foe a treat…
Dagger board refurbishment in progress.
The dagger board was easy. Scuffing’s were sanded and touch up coats applied before a final overcoat of varnish/paint.
The rudder needed a little more attention…
Rudder receiving coat after coat to bared areas…
The floor boards were hard sanded with an orbital sander and a thinned coat applied. Meanwhile, with a couple of broken board battens, these were made up ready to replace.
Temporary screws were used to secure until proper copper nails could be obtained…
Broken battens on one set of floor boards being renewed… View looks odd, but I was looking down onto it!
In between times, the oars were stripped back to bare and sanded, before coat after coat was applied…
Stripping to bare wood of the oars…
Currently, all parts a refinished except for a final coat to the oars. Last week was perfect for the sun shone every day with temperatures around 22-24 deg C, meaning a thinned coat was overcoated later in the day.
My ‘shed’ has bits of dinghy spread about…
Popping aboard Whimbrel after walking near to her mooring, all the cushions, oilies and coats were transported home for their winter washing. Cushions for storage, but we always put the oilies back aboard for the boat is regularly used during the colder months…
Coats already in the washer … the rest awaits a turn!
I have been looking quite hard at the varnish work carried out to Whimbrel during her refurbishment – May/June this year – and have found no signs of any breakdown. Early days, but good news. The coating seems to be pretty tough too (Le Tonkinois No. 1 varnish). This will all get a hard sand in the spring and given two coats.
So, here we are in mid-October. Supposedly the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. The hedgerows are full of berries – blackberries long past their best, sloes, not so good in our parts for it has been too dry, but lots of them. It is said if the hawthorn and rosehip fruits are good then we are in for a hard winter – hope not!
Tomorrow, I am planning on a lone sail from the mooring for a few hours on the tide. It’ll be my first alone from our new mooring…
At long last, I can ‘release’ the title to you: it is out there in the wider world of book sales.
The publisher said in their letter when accepting the book and offering a contract:
‘…your submission was found to be a powerful, poignant memoir, an admirable chronicle of overcoming extraordinary odds…’
‘…keen to comment on your masterful way with words and your remarkable ability to pull the audience into the text, to the point that it often felt like the reader was right there reliving he memories alongside you.’
‘comment(ed) on your engaging writing style and applaud the time and passion you’ve taken … we believe it to be a worthwhile addition to the genre…’
The book’s title is: Sailing through life…
Front cover of book.
Austin Macauley, my current publisher, has just released their sales pitch for the book and, I believe, it is on Amazon now too. Other sites will appear. But your local bookshop would surely love you to pop in…
As said in an earlier post, the release date is Friday 10th November 2023.
There are 80 colour plates and a front piece map.
The book comes in three formats:
Hard Back: ISBN: 9781398481343 @ £25.99
Soft Back: ISBN: 9781398481336 @ £18.99
EPub: ISBN: 9781398481350 @ £3.50
Blurb:
When Nick Ardley asked for a prostate specific antigen (PSA) test, the aftershocks of a prostate cancer diagnosis were momentous. Frightened, he said he was too young to die. Petrified, he understandably broke down. But all was not lost: his family and the boat shared with his wife were soon at work repairing his life.
A life-long sailor, the salt marsh fringed waters of the greater Thames estuary had always enthralled, and it was to them he went for healing. It’s a place where in the free flow of a saline breeze his mind cleared, and he began treating it all as just another little illness. Like a cold, he said, knowing full well it wasn’t! Sailing up the River Thames, he announced to his wife his choice of the medical directions offered. Later, after mooring off Gravesend, both cried together.
Ardley’s treatment overlapped the COVID-19 pandemic. Fortunately, the serious stuff was done and dusted. The pandemic brought new trials. The couple were frighteningly threatened by a fellow yachtsman who disliked an Ardley web blog … the horror of that summer has remained fresh.
Throughout the telling of Ardley’s tales, his story, sailing with family and friends, country walking and living life, he has maintained a normality. Perhaps a familiar story, but it comes with a warning: Men, get yourselves tested before it’s too late!
This project has seemingly just meandered atrociously from one edit to the next at a pace that can only be described as snail-like.
I have reached ‘final edit’ so many times, I’ve almost approached despair. The edit was returned some while ago, corrected, I was told, but absolutely nothing had actually been done. There were only a half dozen or so items … I had a major rant at editorial.
Recently, I received the document for checking with all cover work done. It had to be signed off that day to reach a publishing date in September. I sent a letter back apologising, but I could not deal with at a moments notice, late on an afternoon.
Part view of cover.
I sent everything off in just three days … that was a month and half ago!
I have been informed that the errors have been dealt with but QA found some anomalies (I had spotted one or two and told them, and they’re the experts and should not have been present…).
When, a complete check has been made, I will be sent all for reviewing and signing off. Publishing happens within two months of that point.
The end result though will be a well honed book, with much interest for a varied cross section of people…
It will also carry a very important message to men.
Update:
Well, I never, the files finally arrive back in my email box, however, only one out of six deficiencies had been done.
I ‘exploded’ verbally, to the editorial contact. Amazingly it came back within a day, corrected, with a qualifier that the editorial coordinator had personally checked – what blazes are they for…
I have now signed it off. A publishing date will soon be known, plus advertising details.
I have visited the Nottage Institute once before. It was some years ago when sailing with my sister and two other friends as crew. We’d come up on the tide for some stores.
We enjoyed an early morning sail up to Wivenhoe on the last of the flood and managed to get into one of the two moorings kept for visitors by the Wivenhoe Sailing Club – a generous act: no charge is made. They also provide a card to access showers…
Sailing up to Wivenhoe on the last of the early flood.
Passing, Christobel spotted a sign for an art exhibition upstairs, so in we went. The works were by local artists.
Part of the display.
For me though, the real art was below in the boat shed where I could see a number of dinghies under construction.
Looking into the shed before it opened to visitors…
The Nottage Institute was set up as an education base by a Captain Charles Nottage in 1896 for fisher folk and ‘Colnesiders’. In time it spread its wings into educating men and women in boat crafts such as boat building (dinghies) and navigation learning. It is now an affiliated RYA training centre.
A dinghy nears completion while beyond another is in early stags of planking.
All the dinghies being built are by amateurs under the guidance of a tutor boatbuilder. The workmanship, even to my untrained eyes, looked to be very good.
Planking up nears completionThe standard of riveting over the nail roves was acceptable – there were a few that would catch a stocking…
The dinghy below has reached the fitting out stage. The rubbing band and internal stringer which will support the thwarts are fitted. A centre plate case is under construction – a multi-purpose dinghy which can be sailed makes a classic tender or a boat for enjoyment.
Fitting out a fully planked hull.
Look closely at the illustration below to see how well the plank ends fit to the transom.
Another plank has been clamped into place. The planking appears to be larch.
Below is a dinghy in the early stages of planking. Note the moulds over which the planks will follow. The fore and aft edges have been rebated to take the next plank overlap.
Early stage of planking, with garboard and next fitted.
My final illustration is of a a dinghy that looks like a dinghy I once pursued myself. Ca’t remember the designers name but they are light-weight and strong.
My simulated clinker GRP dinghy is great but quite heavy – it has stood the test of time though for she is thirty this autumn!
A light-weight plywood and epoxy built hull.
The plywood and epoxy method of construction allows the builder to dispense with the internal transverse ribs for the epoxy fillet that seals and fills the planking runs acts as longitudinal ribs. Some internal transverse timbers will be fitted though to support floor boards and such.
A centre plate slot was evident in keel timber of this little boat.
Yes, I enjoyed my walk round the little ‘boat shed’ and too the paintings upstairs where the walls are decorated by hundreds of half models of vessels built at the village’s sizeable shipyard until it closed in early 1980’s.
For more information about the institute visit their web site.
We have had a couple of visits to Maldon by water so far this summer, but on our last, we berthed at the mud marina and yard which is part of the Marine Store empire.
There is a relatively decent loo and shower facility available and a very friendly and helpful team ashore..
I soon spotted an abundance of wooden craft here and quickly introduced myself to a neighbour who had taken the stern line. But it was Whimbrel that ‘trembled’for she was in seventh heaven among so much wood…
A rare Johnson & Jago 1934 4 1/2 ton cutter.
Berthed beside us was a rare little pocket cruiser from the past. A Johnson & Jago 4 1/2-tonner (Thames measure) dating, the owner told me, from around 1934. She was found propped up at the back of the yard in a forlorn state. The chap has owned wooden boats going back down the decades and he decided, like himself, there was a life to live…
The hull, he said, was in good condition being of pitch pine and with a couple of years work, she was back afloat… Toe rails and rubbing bands were renewed.
A Deben 4 tonner
On one of the tides, I spotted a very similar boat from the same era – this though was built in large numbers up in Suffolk. The Deben 4-tonner.
These designs were produced in a couple of sizes to suit the pocket of the ‘average man’ giving opportunity to get afloat for around the same price as a little car. They were nicknamed ‘pocket cruisers’ and served well.
The Blackwater Sloop was another of the pocket cruisers, built up river from this yard by Dan Webb & Feasey whose old yard buildings are now offices. The tiny docks still sit along the water’s edge…
Whimbrel gazes at a host of wooded buttocks…
I ambled around the yard and its pontoons looking at well kept boats and some not so well preserved.
Most I just haven’t a clue as to their class or build. They were all different and caught the eye – something plastic hardly ever does.
A well kept Folk boat.A pretty sloop – has the look of a ‘grown-u’ Deben class or similar.A raised fore-deck sloop which does away with a cabin side/roof structure. Headroom would remain limited…
This one below particularly caught the eye for she has a grandeur of a much larger yacht. The reverse shear is sweet and aligned with the small cabin structure – almost dog-house-like – she is uncluttered.
A sweet reverse shear sloop.
I then back tracked to look under the covers of a few and at this one below. She has the look of a Hilyard ketch, however, her bright work has all but disintegrated to bare wood.
A sad but fine looking ketch falling gradually into disrepair?Another raised deck sloop of similar but different design to previous.
At the outer end of one pontoon was an old naval dockyard TSD. These vessels have all but disappeared. They were resident at every dockyard or naval base used by the Royal Navy and probably predate the second world war. They were diagonal planked – in teak, I believe, and had substantial scantlings and outer protective ribbands.
They were used for ferry purpose in the main but could be utilised a storing vessels too. Years ago, when on a Royal Fleet Auxiliary vessel berthed in Mombasa, there were examples of these craft still in use.
An old naval work horse (TSD).
The one seen above seemed to be sound, but is in dire need of a ‘paint job’ soon…
Then I alighted on this little ‘model’ barge, built once heard, of plywood. I saw her out many years ago with two chaps aboard going down past the Hythe. It looked odd for she is little bigger than a large day boat.
A ‘model’ barge (yacht) – she’s called Hope. The last time I saw her she was rigged. She’s seemingly in or had a refit…
So, yes, our Whimbrel has been in cahoots with many wooden sisters…
Of course, Leigh Ray a pen name and it is widely thought to be the lead author of ‘Swin, Swale & Swatchway’, Herbert Lewis Jones, actually co-written with Charles Barrett Lockwood.
The book’s aged cover.
Ray Leigh, as many old sailing hands will know, often wrote articles for early issues of Yachting Monthly magazine.
Second edition from before 1900.
Interestingly if one does a search of the two men, their medical biographies pop up but little else. In Jones’s case, sailing is mentioned as a hobby having been brought u o the banks of the River Medway. Lockwood’s biog n the other hand contains absolutely no mention of sailing… Both were doctors of some repute and died during the early years of the 1st World War.
The book was recommended by a sailing friend and I added it to a list which the mate uses for those yearly special days, and yes, it was in my birthday bag during June!
The Teal on the Leigh Flats.
The book begins in a normal enough sort of way. The Teal’s owner gathers together a friend who often sailed aboard and his younger brother. The owner has just completed his finals to become a doctor.
Embarking aboard the Teal they set off on an east coast cruise taking in the River Medway, Havengore, Burnham, The Rays’n to Maldon then up to Harwich.
On the River Medway they cut through ‘marsh islands from ‘Sharpfleet’ Creek to investigate the oyster fishery in Sharpness Creek – now just an inlet.
Yes, oysters on the Medway. Sharpness Creek is just an inlet now.
From Harwich, the Teal then sets off, ostensibly to go either to the Deben or the Ore.
Mistley Quay visited o the cruise.
I went back several times to try and find the reason for their’ change of plan, to no avail – I clearly missed something!
The wind gets up and they are well clear of land.
A burning sailng ship is spotted> they sail closer, close enough to see that she is unmanned. Two masts are down and they see the foremast tumble, sails ablaze…
The stricken ship?
The wind increases. The compass is broken. A full gale rages … an old sail is cut up to make a cockpit well screen and sea anchor. The story has apparently gone past he ‘informative narrative’ to pure hokum…
They are driven before the gale. The skipper was using his watch to get a kind of directional drift – it gets broken…
This goes on for what seems like days. They realise that their drift has not been as expected: they would have been cast p on an east coast shore long before!
Surf is heard. The lead is cast. Nothing. Fifteen fathom. Less. Then less again. Then more, but calmer, until an unseen sheer cliff gives protection.
The anchor is pitched over…
There seems to be around 25% of book exploring the cove they find themselves trapped within. A huge sailing ship wreck dominates one shore. The cove disappears into the cliff, literally, in a stream in a cave.
Making an attempt to get out of the cove, they lose anchors and are swept back, into the cave and find themselves hurtling on the ‘flood tide’ deeper inside the rock. The rock they had already discovered to be salt rock…
Sketch map of where the Teal ended up after the storm…
An amazing ‘slalom ride’ ensues, the water turning from salt to ‘fresh’. Masts are cut away … the Teal is all but wrecked and finally they beach. Their dinghy takes them out, eventually, into fresh air.
Finally, the dinghy could float no more. They set off walking living off the land and find a village. The tongue is alien to all three educated young men.
I’ve had enough …
From the village they are sent by various means of transport to Trieste and a ship home!!!
Now, anyone with a modicum of geography knows that for them to have ‘come ashore’ with Trieste as a port of releases must wonder how they got into the Baltic: that is what I perceive.I finished the book, but blimey, it was gung ho ‘boys own’ stuff.
There are some superb black and white illustrations in the first half, but after ‘the ship’ there are none. The story line says there weren’t anymore for equipment was damaged. A batch of plates were boxed and sent ashore at Harwich, apparently…
Did I enjoy it?
Well, yes. It wasn’t as expected and would make a good read for most people…
Thank you for the recommendation, John, and to my mate for its ‘expensive’ purchase…
During last autumn, I came across a book about the ‘lost’ route to Portsmouth from the R. Thames.
The Wey and Arun navigations formed the backbone of this route from the ‘east and west’ respectively (although it was almost north-south). The route was effectively closed around the time of the trip made and problems were encountered. Sections remain navigable today, but the central link has been lost.
I then alighted on a short tale by J B Dashwood in which the chap describes a holiday cruise from the River Thames along the ‘lost’ route to the sea via the River Arun, then a coast passage to home on the Solent shores…
The book is a reprint edition.
The reprint cover.
The book was first published in 1865, at the insistence of Dashwood’s friends!
The original title page.
It is striking for one major reason: his mate for the trip is his wife who seems to have been of hardy stuff.
Their craft is a Una-rigged sailing canoe. It was built for sailing the upper reaches of the Thames and for sheltered coastal hops.
Towards the end of the book, Dashwood describes the trip round Selsey Bill and another covers her suitability for coastal waters and alterations made.
The Caprice in full flow…
The Dashwood’s hired a pony to tow the boat and a canal man to manage the towing. That did not mean the holiday couple sat back. No, they played their parts fully.
The nights were spent at wayside inns along the route.
An author sketch of working the towing pony.
For me, I just loved the way the journey is described. The wild-life, fauna and his little injections of local history. Diversions, on foot, to ruins or the many large houses. It was so reminiscent of many of my own books.
Completing the journey with the Dashwood’s, I dearly wanted to stop and chat to them…
A lovely read. If you can find a copy, I thoroughly recommend it.
Some weeks before the early days of August 1983 we had cycled from Canvey Island, up Benfleet Hill and along a leafy lane cutting through extensive woodland to the yard of A F Platt Ltd, based in its own woodland paradise on the Daws Heath/Hadleigh border.
Our son did the trip too, at a little over a year old he was snuggled up to mum in a baby carrier!
The story is told about at the beginning of a large chapter in my book, The Jottings of a Thames Estuary Ditch-crawler which is available from bookshops on line, where I detail the Alan Platt boat yard story.
Our visit was to cast a serious look at several boats that were currently in the Platt’s yard. There were three Finesse 24s in for various reasons among a couple of 21s too. It was only the ‘24’ we were interested in.
Our first boat, a Yachting World People’s Boat, was on the market and we felt she was about to be sold away to the Burnham river. The signs were very promising…
Although we had viewed these lovely twenty-four footers afloat while sailing, it all depended on whether the mate was happy with what she saw…
There were just three tick boxes!
Standing head room.
A flushing loo.
Decent auxiliary engine.
Front of sakes sheet.
We also studied the sales sheets and discussed our possible requirements with both Alan and Shirley Platt.
Back of sales sheet giving build details.
We went away with a plethora of details a whirl in our heads. Back home we made plans, we couldn’t avoid it: we were truly smitten.
We even had the un-ordered boat’s name ready…
The letter of 8th August 1983.
So we did it!
We had a whole list of ‘extras’ as they are known in the ship and boat building world. The major of these was upgrading to a two-cylinder engine, a Yanmar 2GM, from the basic one-cylinder model. The unit lasted us until 2011 when we again upgraded to a fresh water cooled Yanmar 2YM.
The build and additional costs to suit our requirements.
More letters were to follow…
Clinching a marine mortgage, laying of the keel – a major, planking up etc…
Sadly, I was soon back at sea on a ship pootling around Caribbean waters working with an EU and USA fleet of warships on drug patrols, so consequently, I did not see any of the build processes – this was all left to co-owner, Christobel, the mate who wrote enthusiastically about her visits to view ‘chunks’ of wood…
Whimbrel at the Blackwater Marina in July 2023 looking as good as the day she was launched.
My first view was of the completed boat at the end of March 1984, sitting ready for launching. One of our requirements discussed prior to my return to sea…
The ship’s good mate insists on there being another person in our long marriage – yes, she alludes to a mistress – but as I always point out, it is Christobel’s name on the ship’s papers!
However, more of that as the ‘build’progresses…
So, if ‘Ownership’ can be dated to the date of our order, yes, it is a day to celebrate with a huge dose of pride in a little ship that has served us well.
Thank you Alan, Shirley and all who worked on her.
After much thought we have at last made the break with the Island Yacht Club, Canvey Island.
An incident over the Bank Holiday weekend in August 2019 is at the root of this decision, which I will publicly discuss further down, but has been further driven by other more recent events.
The final straw came after we submitted a complaint about the way club members/visitors treated ‘us’ whilst Whimbrel was under going her fortieth anniversary refit.
Vehicles were being driven fast past boat by around 25% of drivers with no regard for the dust and debris being showered over varnish or paint being applied. Cones and a sign were routinely ignored…
We jointly made a complaint about this with a few specific cases and the club’s response was to call just me in to a session in front of the flag officers to explain ourselves.
Just what needed to be explained?
No where was there an apology and let’s talk about this. Just a straight in and be whipped demand.
Now, the leaders of this club are the very same people who assaulted’ us back in 2019 and since the end of that affair, they have been looking for a way to get revenge.
So, we decided enough was enough and have departed.
Some while ago I wrote about life in a marsh-land yacht club and how ‘we’ looked after our moorings and club infra-structure.
A copy of the Yachting Monthly article.
There pervades at the club I have departed from, like many organisations oft heard in the news media, a problem with institutional bullying. It is led by people who still ‘live in the school playground’ and if one is not ‘in the set’ life can be precarious. These people have broken the club and made it a toxic and an uncomfortable place to be part of.
In that respect, both Christobel and I have, since the infamous RIB incident, been circumspect with lodging any official complaint about anything, which in itself has been a travesty: the bully won.
Whimbrel on the IYC slip in her early life. The slipway was later widened – I drew up the drawing (later digitised) for retrospective planning.
The RIB incident if 30 August 2019 will be documented in the files of the Port of London Authority. These are probably available if one wanted access – freedom of information.
It was over the bank holiday and an open cat event was being hosted by the Island YC.
So, the incident which has lived with me, in particular:
Christobel and I were making Whimbrel ready to depart our mooring to represent the Finesse class and club at Queenborough’s classic festival.
A club RIB (Furtherwick) came up the creek leaving a giant wash crashing through the moorings. I was on our fore deck clearing mooring lines. Although still aground, the boat lifted and surfed against her springs.
Meanwhile Christobel had called out, ‘Slow down.’ She was responded to with a single finger salute, which as most know, means: tickle your c—t or up your c—t. She was extremely upset.
We called the club’s commodore who said he was on way to club and would deal with.
We departed.
Nearing the outer creek, we rounded into the breeze (sw3) clear of the buoyed channel to hoist the mainsail. The boom was loosened ready. I was about to hoist when I spotted the same RIB exiting the club’s moorings.
It left the buoyed channel and came straight at us across the shallows increasing to a ‘displacement speed’ resulting in a huge wash. Christobel held her course with engine on tick-over.
I shouted ‘watch out’ and flung my arms around the slating boom as the RIB roared down our port side done 2-4 m off.
The boat dropped and then went ballistic with violent rolls back and forth. I felt the boat hit bottom.
I held on. I do not remember how I stayed aboard, but wished afterwards I’d gone overboard: it would have made what followed, easier…
Christobel was thrown across the cockpit, all but incapacitated in the corner. She eventually picked herself up and got the boat back under control.
I received wrenched leg and arm joints and Christobel a raft of bruises.
The RIB sped away rounding Canvey Point where a few cats were tuning up, then off east where others were doing the same… no one seemed to be in trouble.
Once under sail we made a further call to the club’s commodore – he fully understood the situation for I was shaking badly as I talked. Again, we got, I’ll sort it. That was the last I heard from him.
In the end after around two weeks, I filled in a Port of London incident report.
The proverbial hit the fan.
The upshot was that the perpetrators manufactured a defence (they got times wrong) and forced all discussion out of club minutes.
The outcome from the Port of London was that the club was reprimanded and reminded of how they operated etc, etc, and the driver was given a written warning. (All of this is held on file)
Whilst this sage was ongoing, I was coping with a huge lack of energy after completing radio therapy a couple months earlier and was on a programme of tablet chemo medication for prostate cancer.
The ‘three’ and cohorts didn’t give a stuff about that…
Early in the saga’s follow up, I had a call on my mobile from the chief perpetrator at around 2000 one evening. I asked where number had been obtained – commodore was the reply. I terminated the call.
On file with all paperwork of case, is an email from club’s vice commodore of time, stating that the phone incident broke club rules and national law regarding passing information.
I said it would be reported to authorities unless an apology was received. Time went by – nil response.
Towards the end of the year, a committee meeting was due and I had a call from our son relaying a message from a fellow committee member that ‘the three’ were engineering an ‘instant dismissal’ from club action against us both … unless we withdrew … because we were threatening a member…
After some thought, and with my energy problems, we wrote, saying due to my lack of energy and my mental ability coping with cancer that we weren’t able to continue … it was apparently accepted.
But, as we later found out, blood was wanting to be spilled.
For us though it wasn’t the end: whenever anything untoward occurred, I suffered from night-time ‘reliving’ of events returned with them cycling round and round with growing anxiety.
So, as said, over last few years we kept our heads low…
The pictures within the blog show a flash of our forty-years as Island YC members.
Collecting club silver ware during better days
We raced with success for a decade or so. I was a work party member for thirty-three years and Christobel for a decade since retiring from teaching.
Christobel ensconced beneath Whimbrel’s bottom applying antifouling around 1990.
The projects, personal and joint/team, have been numerous. I looked after the creek buoys for twelve years or so. There was walling and concreting the edges of slipway, doubling its width.
Returning to our berth held and maintained for thirty-three years, probably again around 1990.
During Covid, as we were a ‘bubble couple’ we replaced hundreds of walkway boards.
Carrying out walkway maintenance.
During the early 1990s the club’s compound was extended over rough infilled land, with layers of crushed building refuse and street asphalt scrapings. We were both part of a small team doing this midweek.
Christobel working in the ‘below gang’ during 2022.
Laying of water and electricity around the extended yard…
Water services round the walkways was laid on…
Another Saturday afternoon washing machine load
Not forgetting, years and years of mooring and walkway repairs/renewals.
Boat launching with what became No.2 rig. The rig was originally fitted with chain blocks, needing four bodies. It was converted to hydraulic lifting which was initially messed up. I took on the project and had it all stripped by contractor, cleaned, reassembled and tested to statutory requirements. The only time I ever received a formal thank you…
Sometimes it was very a very muddy experience enjoying ourselves in this marsh-land yacht club…
Sometimes it is a very muddy form of enjoyment…
There were good moments afloat too. Early morning winter sails. Later winter afternoon arrivals back after a gentle potter.
Creeping back into Smallgains Creek after an afternoon sail,
Taking a cue from an ‘old boy’ now long departed, did I need one after being brought up afloat, I made visits to the boat’s mooring to check during high tides – checking and saving many another boat too at the same time.
A high tide … on mooring watch. Many a time trouble with members boats has been avoided by direct action!.
During the last few years following the RIB incident, the mood within the club changed for the worse. Actions of the club’s hierarchy was causing angst – certainly among the club’s do-ers of the working parties – and the atmosphere was becoming toxic.
It was becoming ‘not a nice place to be’ and I silently began looking for alternatives, should that day dawn.
During Covid, Christobel and I worked as a cohesive team replacing hundreds of walkway planks. Often almost being ‘kicked aside’ by other members frustrated at having to wait. One chap said, during the period, ‘without people like you, we’d struggle to get to our boats…’
So, following the lodging of our complaint while away for a week at the end of June we decided to throw in the towel and make the final break.
Once our resignation letter had been sent, my anxiety cycles began to wain and a resemblance of a normal sleep pattern returned. Praise be.
Now we are gone!
Our open letter to the club’s members is unlikely to be honoured, but it is gradually making its way around via various routes from people who have supported us.
So, below is our letter. We don’t care who reads it: the hierarchy of the Island Yacht Club do not deserve any reserve…
First page of my open letter to members, which….Second page of letter…
A third page was directly to the Island Yacht Club committee and remains private.
So, farewell friends.
Some of you we will see afloat from time to time, others, well, we will both miss you. You gave us so much whilst members of a job, project, or just nattering over a piece of cake at tea time…
Thank you to all who we have been honoured to work with.
