For some time now the world at large that has even a modicum of concern for the environment has been reluctant to use plastic bags, but they do have some good uses.

Sailing yesterday up towards Benfleet after a beat eastwards against the flood we sailed past two moored craft with strings of supermarket bags strung around the rigging. On both it was clear that some of the plastic bags had disintegrated … depositing more plastic into the local environment.

Plonker!

In the week when restrictions in the way ‘we’ use plastic bags came into law in England, it seems to be crass of these owners to ignore the reasons for the change. Some of the bags on one of the craft were from the ‘giant’ in my area, Morrison.

Owner should fined…

Perhaps the RYA needs to take this up, never mind local clubs: this is a blatant act of environmental terrorism. If one is seen littering the street one could get fined. When I was a professional seafarer, littering of the oceans attracted huge fines latterly. It was nearly three decades ago that this sea-change took place, yet the coastal sailor, well some of them, seem to think these rules don’t apply to them.

It makes me angry…

But we had a grand sail…

Ah yes, it’s that time again. A time for ripened fruits, glorious colour and misty mornings which often last well on into the afternoon…

A couple of weeks ago we drove out to Dartford taking in a visit to Bluewater where a M&S do a good selection of mens bits, then we drove into old Dartford and parked up in Hythe Street … a further journey was made for a walk out to the Thames shore a few days later. The creek side walk (along the River Darent) is splendid indeed.

Dartford Creek barrier from the inland side… Note: Mate striding on regardless of what her other half is up to…

I’d wanted to go take a look at the old lock which retained a level of water up at the hythe and other quays into the town. There is a trust being formed to rejuvenate the waterway and instil the maritime tradition back into the heart of Dartford. See: https://www.facebook.com/nick.ardley#!/groups/1493013297641232/

Anyway … we came across a mass of wild English rose bushes laden with hips … and an apple tree similarly dripping apples. My good mate soon had us picking. Upon arriving home she boiled and simmered the rose hips and produced a thick liquor – this was added to a pile of apples, softened, then boiled with sugar and a lemon. The result is, most amazingly, pleasant tasting and something different on our breakfast toast!

All it cost was a bit of sugar…

Now one of my pleasures in autumn is getting out onto the water. I had a glorious weekend over on the Medway sailing around with another Finesse last weekend.

On the Medway, drifting into Stangate Creek … taken from dinghy after rowing off! Whimbrel and Awel O Wynt.

This was followed by a typical high pressure week of long sun-filled days. However, the wind was easterly … picking up during the afternoon to a strength that boiled the surface of the Lower Thames into a white froth. I did lots of little jobs around Whimbrel’s decks, ignoring the rise and fall of the water in my creek around me…

Come Friday and the wind had dropped. The high pressure was moving away, slowly and during the following week (morning and evening neaps) it was going to be blustery with showers. The week and half late summer was due to end! But, bliss-O-bliss, I got away. I’d tried to contact two friends, but all were otherwise engaged – one dealing with a new boat (Now he’s got to sell his old one!) – the other was painting, at home!

Who’d have thought autumn had arrived, eh…

Clearing Smallgains Creek, motor sailing against a NE 3-4, I was soon tacking back and forth between a 2m line with loads of centre plate down against the tide, eastwards, down the course of the Ray Channel. It was gorgeous, but I missed my good mate. She wasn’t far away, just over the hill enjoying a coffee and natter with an old friend at a ‘tea’ shop in Hadleigh, I sigh, gently…

Amazingly, as I came abreast of the Essex Yacht Club a little sail popped out from the shore … ‘home-made’ I thought. I guessed straight way who it was … ex Finesse 24 owner John C doing a runner from his painting task at home (bad boy!). Ah yes, but, when the tide’s in, the wind is fine and it’s a nice day, there’s only one option … go sailing!

We sailed along chatting while I avoided running into anything. A motor boat with less draft than me was sort of hugging the buoyed channel (Why?) so I maintained my right of way as a sailing craft and kept on, but ready for action … much to ‘his’ astonishment, as he went full astern! He gesticulated, so I spread my arms indicating loads of water, ‘he’ was clearly fuming … My pal had warned me that the boat was likely to ‘come on’… I knew this from many hours sailing in these waters…

Fishing boats with loads of draft I’ll bend for but not shallow draft skimming dishes! The little dinghy ‘hung’ on my protected side… We broke away and I sailed off towards the Ray, skirting the edges of Two Tree Island. Here clouds of Brent geese circled and honked above me – they’d a couple of hours until the eel grass would be uncovered.

Clouds of Brent geese flew around me awaiting the fall of the tide and the succulent eel grass on the flats…

I sailed blissfully up the water separating Canvey Island and the Two Tree Island shore, then along beneath Hadleigh downs. Just below the moorings of the Benfleet Yacht Club I spied a lighter with a tug approaching. It looked like a half completed conversion job, but the hull clearly hadn’t been preserved – why do people do this? Here I turned for home, having to long and short tack initially against the last of the flood…

Tug and barge…

It was a thoroughly enjoyable beat down past the entrance to Smallgains Creek, the tide wafting me in the right direction. In the saltings the long stalks of sea aster waved in the tide, their heads full of developing seed soon to be cast to tide and breeze ready for germination in the coming spring… I love this time of the year: it is full of happenings, much of it of the natural kind, with the promise of renewal…

A tern – soon these lovely little birds will have set course for their wintering grounds.

I spotted some terns, wishing them well for their coming journey: soon they’ll have flown off to their wintering grounds, then autumn will have well and truly set in… But my sail wasn’t yet over: after stowing the mainsail and readying fenders, I jogged in over the ebb to sail into my berth, serenely happy… some three and half hours after leaving.

Jogging into Smallgains Creek on the ebb…

It seems a long while ago now, but we went into Faversham to attend the maritime festival where Whimbrel was an exhibit!

Just as we were leaving a mooring out in the East Swale the gas ran out – no problem: the chalndlers always has some … then the loo failed to pump out … I took it all apart. The hose was full of crud and remnants of – well, we’ll leave that to your wonderful imaginations!

A discharge hose probably around 75% chocked with limescale… Not really the mate’s fault then!

We stopped off at Iron Wharf and I purchased a new length of loo hose. A bottle of gas wasn’t available: delivery was late, but the chandler was at a stall on Front Brents on the Saturday during festival and would deliver to me … picking it up I remarked upon the bottle feeling light, but hadn’t another reference. I let it go…

The Faversham Nautical Festival…

Some weeks later with my sister and two friends aboard we berthed at Halfpenny Pier. After a wander around this historic town and a visit to the Mayflower Project one of the crew went to put the kettle on  for a pot of tea. The gas ran out … now we already had an empty bottle intending to renew at Titchmarsh, there having been no where on our route where gas had been available – I thought I’d have nearly three weeks anyway! The new bottle had been connected two days only! It was the one from Faversham.

Help!

I went up to the office of Halfpenny Pier, but the pier master was about to go off duty, but whizzed down to the harbour ferry … the ferry would take me across to Shotley, wait while I got gas and bring me back. Grand.

Ah, but, on checking with Shotley, they wouldn’t sell gas unless boat was berthed in marina – what a load of tosh. Shotley is off my visit list too!

Help!

I asked at the pretty little Harwich Historical Society Office … a helpful lady gave me a taxi number saying bottled gas was sold at Morrissons down the road in Dovercourt. ‘ …thank you…’ I said, feeling relieved.

Meanwhile my sister had uncoupled the other bottle and joined me up by the road. Shutting up the office the kindly lady was surprised to see us still standing waiting for a taxi and straight away offered a lift to and back for the gas … I phoned the taxi company and an uninterested voice accepted my termination of our ‘contract’ and off we went…

On the way back we had a wonderful tour of the old part of Dovercourt with this and that being pointed out … my sister laughed afterwards: she was sure that had I not been chaperoned I’d probably have been kidnapped!

But wow, the kindliness of some people found on the waterfront can be astonishing, so whoever you are, dear lady, a public thank you from me…

Faversham Chandlery, helpful and friendly service…

Much later we (the mate and me) sailed into Faversham at the end of August after a passage down from Brightlingsea. I went to the chandlers and was welcomed as a long lost friend … clutching another empty bottle. Upon explaining my earlier problem – he remembered my purchase: it was collected at Front Brents.

Mark Dalton, the proprietor said, ‘…gas is purchased from supplier in trust and sold on in trust that the contents of a bottle is correct…’ then adding, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take it up with Calor Gas…’

I was given an exchange with no cost.

Faversham Chandlery: www.FAVERSHAMCHANDLERY.co.uk

This certainly restored my faith in our troubled world and more to the point, in people too … thank you Mark.

This year Whimbrel made it into the Ore & Alde. I had a crew of three aboard with me, my sister and two buddies, a nice couple from down in wild Wiltshire. They’d boarded the day before and we’d had a glorious sail up from Pin Mill.

Initially, we were going to stop off at Orford, go up to Snape next day via Slaughden and a visit to Aldeburgh … however we went straight up to Slaughden. The visitors buoys were taken (I’ve since learnt that these buoys are supposed to hold three vessels each…), so a vacant buoy was picked up round the corner where it was also quieter … it does roll in that river off the Martello Tower horribly.

A liberty boat came alongside and asked if we wanted to go ashore: we’d waved at it! Nothing was said about our use of the mooring, even though I’d said we were visiting.

Later, after a drink at club – fairly friendly – and a walk into town etc, we returned. A different boatman took us out. This boatman said we’d be okay: it was his mooring and he’d not have his boat back on it until the following afternoon … it wasn’t until I was aboard that I realised we’d been ‘mooved’ whilst ashore. Not far, but suddenly clearly the case!

Whimbrel in her ‘new’ position above Slaughden Quay. She’d been left across to the right!

I then noticed that the mooring line had been placed aft of the pulpit stanchion and round a deck socket for the p&S nav lights … it had been ripped from the deck tearing the glass cloth covering and tearing the ply deck…

A passing boatman from AYC was hailed and he apologised: he’d help a private mooring holder move Whimbrel (Mooring No. 34 above quay – for reference…) after returning and quote: ‘… shouting and bawling …’ at one of the AYC boatmen about my transgression. Apparently mooring holder 34’s crew was aboard Whimbrel…

Now I’m not against the boat being moved, but I do object to damage. I couldn’t replace the fitting for three weeks so couldn’t sail in the dark or in inclement weather… The ripped deck was obviously dealt with before water ingress could occur, then sealed over!

A later view whilst sailing to Snape… The tapped over deck and wiring ends can be seen. Fairlead is forward of stanchion so protecting socket!

I eventually wrote to the AYC. After three weeks I still hadn’t recieved a response, so wrote a stronger note.

Finally a response was granted to me … they don’t have anyone to account for the actions of their members during the summer, so it was to be investigated later … I’m still awaiting an apology from the boat owner. I’m not holding my breath!

Now, a word of warning for I’m quoting from my correspondence from the secretary of the Aldeburgh YC: ‘It is strange to hear the visitors moorings were full as the 3 buoys each raft 3 yachts and all boatmen are well briefed to expalin this to visitors and never to allow visitors to pick up private moorings.’

So, fellow sailors, you are warned!

I have to say that the chap behind the bar  (probably the steward), especially two days, later was very helpful indeed.

However, do I feel inclined to visit that part of the world in near future, not likely…

A week in politics is a age but a week away from the water is an eternity…

My old sailing buddy who skipped out of his booked sails last year ‘pleaded’ to be allowed to come back aboard … of course there wasn’t any problem with that for he has always been a good ship mate and from trip one, many years back, has been competent at the helm. So, some months ago it was arranged that when Whimbrel reappeared in home waters he could have a long ‘mid week weekend’ afloat. He got a bit of a ‘Finesse Fest’ too.

The crew had wanted to make it up Conyer Creek a place few yachtsmen bother to go unless berthed that way – which is a shame. We left Smallgains Creek a few minutes before eight on Monday morning last and as the crew helmed outbound sails were set and pulling by the time we were clear. The wind was light … a N-NW 4-5 had been discussed by the weather people…

Lazily across the Thames…

By the edge of the Thames deepwater channel the engine had been fired up – yes it hurt dreadfully – and we pottered in a slackish fashion towards the Grain edge chomping on bacon sandwiches. Ah … that aroma, the finest perfume in the world (when one’s ladies are absent!) that I know.

Queenborough Spit ahoy!

Crossing the Medway stream which by then had been ebbing for an hour we picked up a breeze. The genoa was rehoisted in a jiffy and boomed out to catch every zephyr. Gamely, our little ship stemmed that flow, forging into the West Swale. It wasn’t long before we had picked up the eastwards flow which follows on from the flood.

Down towards the Horse Shoal I picked up the radio mike and called the bridge … a lift was due in 20 minutes. On engine! We made it by a few minutes, did a couple of turns between the two bridges and then whooshed through. There wasn’t even time to get the kettle on…

The Swale passage towards low water…

Its always a joy to sail these waters: it feels like you’re sailing over the land. We ran towards Elmley, coffee, by then in hand, munching a piece of shortbread secreted into our stores by my good mate (Ah! xx) looking at the world around us. Along the mainland shore N. Kent’s new waste facility is nearing completion and down on the jetty a ship was being unloaded by grabs. Then, going down the long east/west channel we watched as a sparrow hawk chased and harried a tern. At times we thought the little thing had had it, but it escaped, we hope, a hunter’s luncheon…

The Medway and Swale are not considered by many yachting folk as ‘good sailing’ grounds. Why, I do not know, but for me it has everything. Wildlife, modern life, excellent anchorages, plenty of places to pop in for a pint – get stores even, and is full of industrial history peaking from so many patches od saltings and along the banks. So many other places have been cleansed, disinfected and prettified into twee des-res don’t bring any mud here type places – enjoyable to visit, but not so satisfying. There’s an article on its way about this in Yachting Monthly sometime soon…

Approaching Conyer early on the tide…

We sailed, for the sheer enjoyment of it, down to the Receptive buoy a little beyond Faversham Creek before turning back and fetching into the South Deep. On both passes we sailed close to the wrecked ‘fishing’ vessel off Uplees – its a spooky sight.

We waited a couple of hours in the South Deep for the tide before making for the Butterfly channel in past the withies (Beware, a red has lost its top mark … where channel is hard to sea wall…) up to a previously booked berth – there’s always helpful people at Conyer’s Swale Marina… We berthed nearly 2 hours before the top of the tide. On the way the salting tops still had a touch of colour from a profusion of sea lavender and out amongst the seried ranks cord grass fronds along the sweep to the east, sea asters were evidently about to burst into colour, it was delightful.

After berthing … chips, dips and a welcome beer…

A fine supper was enjoyed in the Ship Inn where we had a great natter with Paul Smeadley and his wife. Paul is the retired ‘boss’ of Swale Marina… He lives off site now but can train his spyglass on the world around!

The following morning we left with the flood still running – ‘always a good thing to do’ I tell my crew. Sail was set as soon as the creek fell behind and we bore away for Elmley in the distance. We were on passage to Upnor.

The bridge was cleared as a ship went through following in her foaming wake… Soon after, sailing serenely down towards Long Point, my phone buzzed. The owner of Mariette, a gaff rigged Finesse 24 had spotted us as he was tacking out of Stangate – we were meeting up later for the run up to Upnor.

Dick Smith’s Mariette joins us in Saltpan Reach…

It was an uneventful sail upriver … we jilled around a couple of times to await our sister boat, but I don’t think her skipper noticed … considering it a race!

It is quite noticeable that the river’s two power stations are gradually disappearing, bit by bit, as cutting machines and planned explosions reduce these efficient destroyers of earth’s balance into scrap. ‘What will their site’s be used for…’ my crew wondered aloud – who knows just yet. A mix of housing and light industry is a favourite, surely. Or, maybe, the land will be cleansed and returned to marsh grazing … I doubt the last.

Mariette framed through Whimbrel’s aft end…

Passing Hoo Island huge earth moving machines were at work preparing the island for its next dose of infill material and away over amongst the mud moorings belonging to Gillingham Marina I thought of the two Finesse craft known to berth there. Above all, the bob of the pretty bawley Doris fluttered lazily from her topmast head. I’ve not bumped into her owner since the Medway Barge Match when he was crewing aboard the Lady Daphne, her mate in fact, which I (and my mate) had hope to achieve towards the end of our long stint afloat… Sorry Denis.

Mariette and Whimbrel moored at the Medway YC.

Upon arrival at Upnor, I’d popped ashore to ensure we weren’t taking up moorinsg of boat’s due back and paying our fees. Returning, I picked up my crew for a natter and a pleasant mug of tea aboard Mariette before leaving her owner to a snooze! Later, a good supper was enjoyed at The Ship…

Mariette’s owner posing for his picture…

The next morning we both departed as the flood lost its power and set to beating down river. After two tacks Whimbrel had gone past Mariette off St Mary’s Island, but being good sports and feeling we should keep together, we messed around in Pinup Reach only to see Mariette cut inside the beacon off Folly Point! We both looked at each other as I gathered in our genoa sheet to sail properly… Then, in Long Reach I changed to our working jib … whilst our companion sailed past – it seemed that we were being raced: he didn’t stop!

‘Right’ I said to my crew, ‘lets go after him … even without his other jib he’s more sail area…’ I added.

At the lower end of Long Reach a sea plane came down to say ‘hello’ as we tacked over the top of the Bishop Ooze. Bit by bit we ate up the ground between us. (Later he said, ”’you came down that last reach so well … thought you had you engine on…’) By the time we were heading for the West Swale we had him … sweeping over the spit and roaring into the harbour. I heard a shout, but couldn’t hear. Later my companion skipper said that the buoy was meant to be a rounding mark. ‘…didn’t realise it was a race,’ I said, ‘…I’d have left my genoa up otherwise…’ Cheek!

Mariette’s skipper is a good man and Whimbrel’s new and proper crew thoroughly agree on this … but we thought perhaps he was having a spot of fun – good on you mate!

We berthed on the All Tide Pontoon – for me a first, but expensive for what it is and water still has to be collected from quite a distance. Our sailing partner spent some time in trying to elicit a discount, tounge rather in cheek!

The moorings along the inner side of the pontoon have been turned over to permanent mooring holders – I stated that I though that strange for the inside is where smaller craft up to two abreast could be moored. For a large pontoon the mooring space is rather limited we all thought … along with this the outer end is kept reserved for a ‘school ship’ operating around the Medway areas… Hey Ho!

In the evening, after drinks and nibbles aboard Whimbrel and a fresh pint in the Old House at Home, we enjoyed our supper at the Flying Dutchman, a place just over a year ago my mate and I swore never to return to. It has, however, had a change of ownership. I enjoyed my meal and told the land lady, telling her what had happened when with my mate … she was flabberghasted! The good lady added that they have been working hard to regain lost trade amongst visiting yacht crews. The insides seem to have had a make-over, so, maybe, things have changed for the better. Time will tell.

Shortly after breakfast Mariette departed followed by ourselves, reaching out of the harbour and straight across the Grain flats, the tide lifting us all the way. The same reach was carried into the Ray Channel where we goose winged up past Chalkwell.

Mariette reaching across the Thames.

Off Chalkwell our main sail was dispatched with. Astern, we saw Mariette do the same, taking a little longer than us: he’d not a crew to deal with his gaff main. We jogged up under genoa and then no sail at all as Mariette came up astern for us all to wave and call a fond farewell … as Whimbrel puttered under engine towards her own berth in Smallgains Creek.

Mariette heading up Hadleigh Ray towards Benfleet Creek…

It was a damned good sail – my crew left the boat beaming, so was I!

Ah yes, it all seems such a long time ago now … our summer started with an invite to do the post match report for the 50th of new series of Medway Bage Matches, on my part, and hand out cups on my mate’s part. That done we cruised for a week around the Medway and Swale…

The staysail class bound down the Medway … back in May.

It being a ‘big’year for me: I reached the relatively young age of sixty we had organised to do something I’d long wanted to do – sail amongst the Western Isles of Scotland – mixing it with a tour of Mull, Skye and Northumbria. This took us away from the east coast for nearly three weeks … boy did I enjoy it too.

The Eda Fransden, a fine vessel indeed. This voyage is to be subject of an article within the yachting press soon…

Getting back to Essex it was time to complete storing Whimbrel in readiness for our own pleasures. Departing from home during the last week of June, I waved goodbye to fair Hadleigh … the weather was sublime and we pottered around the Stangate areas for a few days before heading for Faversham to take part in the Nautical Festival – a fascinating experience. There we met a youngish couple who were about to take delivery of a Finesse 24, Seaden, a boat found down on the south coast.

The spritsail barge Westmoreland sitting in her lighter outside the pretty little dock at Lower Halstow awaiting her reconstruction…

The remains of the spritsail barge Emily on the mud flats in Stangate Creek. What’s interesting is her wooden mast case…

Some of the vessels at the Faversham Nautical Festival.

Three little ships that were in a berth by Whimbrel, crying out for some tender loving care and attention…

Leaving Faversham we sailed for the River Roach before sailing up the River Crouch to Fambridge where the mate ‘absconded’ departing for home – she had an appointment with the Daws Heath Village Fayre and a wedding dress display. And very good it was!

A friendly seal pup in Yokesfleet Creek.

I had a day loitering in the river before being joined by a cousin and my youngest brother at Burnham – although Fambridge would have done just as well!

We had a bit of a ball, sailing up towards Rochford until the tide ran out … mooring, perhaps for the last time at Paglesham: the landing has been closed, and a good meal at the Plough & Sail – perhaps the pub should remove the ‘Sail’ bit from name! A new concern has taken over the old yard and banned all landings…

An avocet…

My Crouch & Roach crew…

My cousin was landed at Burnham for his homeward journey and my brother stayted for a sail up to Bradwell where we were met by the boat’s ‘proper’ mate, driving over by car. This was useful: the passage to a station was made simple!

An exciting event took place while on the River Roach – the sea walls were broken down along part of the Wallasea Island project. The land had been inned since around 1200.

Following a couple of days together I ‘marooned’ the mate at Bradwell and sailed north to the Walton Backwaters where I was to pick up another family crew… Kid sister and a lovely couple. The chap’s a Welshman, a fine one too, even though he is part Czech! I owe this fine person a lot for one reason or another… Thanks mate!

Upper rivers crew … with the Naze in background, bound for the Ore.

We made it safely to Snape, coming back down on the morning tide the next day… We also did Aldeborough, Harwich, Pin Mill and the Backwaters…

Whimbrel up at Snape.

Then it was time for my good mate to rejoin … she was itching to ‘kick’ all interlopers off her boat and get a bit of the action herself. Taking family and friends is something of a tradition for the good ship Whimbrel. Over the years our parents have enjoyed jaunts as well, however, my mother, the last of them, has probably had her last sail aboard, sadly.

‘Skippy’ got a load of washing done before his mate’s arrival back aboard…

Other people do theirs too!

We sailed for the River Deben, a river we love, for a short while: after a week or two I feel ‘hemmed in’ and want to get out. The weather continued to be kind – in fact by general consent aboard our little ship, the summer has been brilliant for sailing … enjoying several nights under the woods at The Rocks.

Sunset at the Rocks…

We sailed to the top of Martlesahm creek and up to Wilford Bridge. Spent a couple of nights in the heady town of Woodbridge enjoying a walk to Sutton Hoo. On the way I ‘stumbled’ upon the bottom of an old spritsail barge being broken out of the mud and cut up – for fire wood! She was the KC which has been sitting covered in Deben gloop at Melton for several decades.

We can go no further… Wilford Bridge above Melton.

Skipping, sadly, a proper spell in the Walton Backwaters, we headed south for the River Blackwater. We pottered for a few days before going up to maldon for a comfortable berth at ‘Taylors’ the old sail loft berths above the Hythe. This is a place we love to sail into even though it is a place often visited from home by car – it’s different, more interesting, natural even…

Departing after a fine meal at a nice restaurant up the high street we dropped down to lawling Creek – it was time to tickle the boat’s bottom. She was in need of a scrub…

During two previous marina visits I had sanded and varnished the shear strakes both sides … the rudder and transom got the treat ment on the beach at Mundon Stone too. A rally of Finesse yachts was looming … the old girl needed to look her best!

The mate hard at it… ‘You’ve missed a bit…’ I called!

Leaving the upper Blackwater we had a pootle around the Mersea Quarters, sailing up to the Strood early on the tide, turning close enough to almost make out faces. I had a potter around the creeks off Woodrolfe, poking around an old barge and looking at the various craft within their saltings moorings.

The Thames barge Memory’s hull has collapsed during past year… It has taken around twenty-five years. Was she abandoned too early, probably!

Leaving the West Mersea areas we pottered across to Bradwell to join a fleet of Finesse craft for a rally. This year we enjoyed the spectacle of ten craft, the company of arounf fifty people made up of crews, family and visitors. See previous blog.

One of the fleet, Pippit, with her crew aboard shortly after arrival.

Time was by then moving on and thoughts of a home ground passage were close upon us. However, for the first time this summer we couldn’t ‘move’ where we wanted to. So to make a change from Bradwell we sailed over to Tollesbury while the wind howled. This was the first dose of wind that last more than say, overnight. It was long over due, perhaps!

The old coal store up on the strand in Tollesbury … her future is dire. One day it’ll all come tumbling down.

The barge-yacht Angela & Peter at Tollesbury awaits her rigging.

An abandoned skiff – probably a smack’s boat.

Eventually we broke free of the Blackwater and sailed for the lovely Colne. A night was spent up under the trees above Alresford Creek then a final night in Brightlingsea before sailing for the East Swale.

A fine Colne morning…

Departing south…

It is something that has happened a couple of time over the last few seasons but when it does it always fills us both with a level of elation … departing from the north and taking the fresh flood right on into Faversham. It wasn’t a planned visit, but we did have rather a fien meal at the Anchor… We’d purchased some mince to make a dish of spag bol but when I fetched it out of our cool cupboard, it was off … it was from the butcher in Brightlingsea. Thanks a bunch you shower! Supermarket mince will keep three days safely aboard in the cool, just like a larder. It was clearly suspect when purchased. The shop will NEVER be used again.

Sailing into Faversahm Creek…

A lot of ground clearing and removal of old boats has been taking place at the Iron wharf. This old girl might live on, who knows…

We stopped off at Iron Wharf – the new manager, just leaving: a ‘real’ manager has just arrived. Toby Lester and his barge Ironsides came up as we left. He has taken up the post. His last was at Fambridge Yacht Station… The family live aboard.

Then after a stop-over in Stangate we headed for home … for me it had been two months and three days.

Back in home waters.

We didn’t do everything or visit many of our favourite places but waht we did do we enjoyed wholeheartedly. Some places hadn’t been visited for some time. When this happens they often have a freshness, but it is the gradual changes witnessed that I enjoy. The change is generally slow but sometimes rapid indeed. We have a unique coast. It is ‘soft’ unlike Scottish rock, so change is a constant. I notice lost saltings, new bits of grass sprouting from new shallows and waterfronts that lose a building and gain something new – it’s always happened since man populated the area, and it will continue.

For Whimbrel’s crew, it has been one of the best of summers …

Bradwell Marina is a place oft used by many up and down the coast. It is especially useful as a jumping off point for passages northwards or southwards, as in my own case if one peruses our log books.

One of the other reasons it has, over the years, proved useful is the fact that it always had a working laundry facility. Years ago cruising with a young child the ability to dump a load of washing in a machine is quite frankly a boon, especially when on extended cruising which we now do during the summer. One can only carry so much and duvet covers are difficult to wash by hand … although at Bradwell two years ago my mate ‘had’ to do just that – it’s been mentioned in a story to come out soon!

A couple of years ago the marina refurbished their ablution block updating the showers etc. One ‘fatality’ of that refurb was the demise of the laundry facility … My mate and I both lodged complaints … according to the management in the tower it was something that wasn’t needed. My wife was quite forthright and said, ‘Okay, we’ll not come in if washing needs doing…’ which we stuck to over last two seasons: Tollesbury got our custom instead…

The Finesse Rally was planned for Bradwell this year (a week ago now) and surprise, surprise, the marina has reinstated the facilities … it is located in a building over by the lift dock. The key is available from the tower. Hooray!

Whimbrel at recent Finesse rally with a load of washing – duvet covers and towels – acting as big bits of bunting…

Time was creeping on and after loitering with intent … in Maldon, we broke free and sailed off down river to Lawling Creek, a fine place for a shoal draft vessel to rest at anchor.

Rest wasn’t our reason for being there: Whimbrel’s  bottom needed a scrub. This was done on Mundon Stone, settling some 2 hours or so before low water.

Bottom scrubbed, transom and rudder sanded and varnished on Mundon Stone.

Upon leaving Lawling we pottered across to Osea and sat under the island’s lee in a northerly and a continuously wet day, only the second we had experienced all summer, well since Monday 29th June. The following morning dawned sunny with a little cloud…

 Dawn after a wet day … the sun streams down the Blackwater … a good omen for the coming Rally of Finesse class yachts.

We toddled down to Mersea for a couple of days on a rising tide with a ditch-crawl up to Mersea Strood for good measure.

Two views of Whimbrel approaching the Strood. We turned a little beyond the arm of mud under the jib … with my mate saying, ‘…you finished being silly yet…’

Then it was time to set off to meet boats collecting for the weekend’s rally of Finesse yachts at Bradwell. My laptop wifi ability had fallen over during the week: I’d opened up a box with a new dongle only to find it hadn’t a sim card inside. I’d not checked upon receipt! I will next time… People were trying to make contact and I couldn’t send a proper list to Bradwell, Hey Ho!

Two of the craft had arrived by Thursday, taking the opportunity to enjoy a longer break. These were Seaden, a F24 Bermudan sloop and Drifter, a F21 gaff cutter and the only 21 footer to come along.

Early to arrive were Seaden and her intrepid crew. The boat’s mate had only ever done 2 hours sailing prior to their departure from Gillingham – she loved it…

Some hours after our own arrival on Friday morning in came several boats from the north and south.

Mariette coming in to berth alongside pontoon with Whimbrel under the marina bar…

By the end of Friday we had a collection of eight craft: Pippit, Calluna,  Akaroa, and Snowgoose not already named. Akaroa was the second of the 24’s to be built back in 1971. There were many happy faces drifting from boat to boat by the evening. Many admirers stopped to look too as they passed by on transit to their own, mainly modern plastic craft.

Pippit shortly after her arrival…

Snowgoose came from Harwich.

During the evening I’d had a message that one would arrive by noon on Saturday and the other was doubtful, however she called on Saturday morning to say they had cleared the Naze and were due to arrive around one o-clock … giving us ten craft… These were Martha IV, based at West Mersea and Driftwood based on the Stour at Shotley Marina.

Akoroa F24 No. 2 from 1971.

During the day on Saturday people wandered between boats, including to and fro to the two craft berthed by marina on ‘A’ pontoon (miles away), with copious quantities of tea and coffee being consumed – I felt almost hyper! Christobel almost boiled a tank of water…

The owners of Lady Christina based on the R. Soar near Leicester being entertained by my good mate… This intrepid couple have now sailed (motoring a little!) their boat out into the Wash through Boston Sluice twice now. I’m working on them to do an article…

Looking along past Mariette towards Whimbrel, where Arjen, our ‘tame’ Dutchman, is enjoying some coffee after his arrival from Poole in Dorset where he sails Tig – once of Tollesbury.

Part of the fleet from the marina bar… The other two could have happily been berthed inside…

Too much enjoyment going on aboard Calluna…!

The evening came round all too quickly and we all met around Whimbrel for drinks and nibbles before departing for the marina bar where a buffet had been arranged.

Pontoon party…

The buffet before it was ‘attacked by the hungry hoards…

I gave a little talk about the reasons why we need to maintain an annual rally, welcoming new owners and finished with a ‘plea’ for a relief… Many chuckles and such!

Christobel had made a rally cake in the spring, it was fed weekly by me and ‘we’ dressed it just prior to leaving home in June. It was delivered by our ‘boy’ who had stayed for a chunk of the afternoon and evening, finding several faces he knew from around the Island YC which had three boats at the rally.

Toya and Shane Hoadley cutting the cake: they had sailed the greatest distance, and had only owned their boat for around four weeks…

It was a great event. This could only happen with owners and their boats turning up, and too, the support of owners living great distances away. Bristol was the farthest. Local owners came too: some had reasons why they couldn’t sail over… The marina were helpful too … even though their shower heating system had broken down, so many cold showers were enjoyed! The marina bar, and owner Mick Leahy and his partner did us proud: the buffet was superb.

I can only add a public thank you to all who made it a great weekend, including the visitors who came just to look…

Our own leaving…

During a visit to Maldon I had opportunity to get closer to a little gem of a barge yacht. I’d seen her on the water some years ago but not had a real look…

How the vessel works as a sailing vessel I have no idea: down sizing, as has been done here, reducing everything in proportion is not usually conducive to creating something that works. It looked as if the little ship is made of ‘tin’ so must be the smallest of the iron pots as steel/iron barges were referred to when they first appeared back in the latter decades of the 19th century.  Of course, some of you will know that down in Cornwall, yes Cornwall, a new iron pot is under construction at a yard up the River Fowey.

Anyway, here is Maldon’s smallest ‘member’ of the spritsail barge fleet … the little Hope.

The barge yacht Hope at Maldon.

A closer look at Hopes’ hull.

The aft end, everything is as it should be…

A look forward – note her scale barge boat. It is 1m in length.

A bow view.

One wonders what is below: no allowance has been made to give cabin space. I have assumed that she is used purely as a ‘dinghy’ insomuch as she isn’t or can’t be used as a cruiser … I’d like to be corrected if any reader knows!

One thing is certain, she’s probably cheaper to run than the real thing.

Also in Maldon is probably the first barge yacht to be built, the 1887 Dinah, seen at The Downs Road Boatyard, a little further upstream.

Here is a ‘proper’ little barge, proportioned such as she is actually a useful entity. Note the relatively high sides – these were raised by ‘a plank’ to give greater headroom below. Perhaps Victorian gentlemen and their ladies ere a tad shorter 130 years ago!headroom below. Perhaps Victorian gentlemen and their ladies ere a tad shorter 130 years ago!

Here too is the full sized real thing, that is the aft end of the Dawn on the lower berth at Cook’s yard.

Two views of the real thing as seen on the Dawn…

Back to the little Hope, I loved her…

I’ve been adrift now for a little while and during that time some fellow clinker boats have caught my eye, so I have a clinker fest for you all… The craft types are wide and varied and by no means anywhere near a ‘collection’ – they form a small number of the type of construction that dates back to earliest boats.

A section of the Sutton Hoo ship, constructed as historians believe her to have been built from the dig evidence…

Sailing up towards Woodbridge we passed Tilley, a rather attractive Finesse 21. This boat was ‘retrieved’ from the south coast down at Poole in Dorset. She’d been stripped out and refurbished after being ‘wrecked’ by a previous owner. Her new owner, a sailor living in Bury St Edmunds, came alongside while we were waiting fir water to get into the Tide Mill Marina, then came aboard when we berthed. Nice chap, keen as mustard and looking forward to this year’s rally in Bradwell…

This one is Bonito, a Finesse 27 that came back ‘home’ from the Southampton area around 18 months ago … she’s back in the water after a little work, but still hasn’t been fitted with a mast. I’d heard last year that her new owner was planning to use the vessel as a motor boat – shame, but she’s still going! This vessel is the only Finesse 27/28 that was built with a centre plate…

Whilst on the subject of Finesses,  Seaden owned by Shane Boadley and photographed by him recently returned to the Thames estuary areas with a new home on the River Medway at Gillingham. Shane is ably supported by partner Toya in there new endeavour: Toya isn’t from a sailing background. Shane has been afloat most of his life though, mainly in motor craft. Astern of Seaden is another Finesse, a 21.

There now follows two sadder stories, one rather more so than the other, although the signs are not good. Firstly, Bramble, a Finesse 24 which has been given a rather unhandy wheelhouse. She’s also been rigged a ketch… I’m not sure I like the cabin windows either, but that’s a personal view.

Bramble at Titchmarsh…

The vessel has been owned locally in the Walton backwaters area for some years now. Last year I heard that she was likely to go onto the market: her owner, getting on a little, had lost the services of a long standing crewman, due to that beast called age… I was told she needed a little attention, that is clearly the case, but for all of that she’s in pretty good nick!

Now I move onto a vessel raised before … the Finesse 24 Halda, a gaff rigged version and one of the early boats in the class. Halda has lain in a forlorn state bordering on the terminal for many seasons now. I thought there was a little bit of hope when a cover was put over her, but alas, the cover lays about her whilst fresh water continues to do its worse internally and about her in general.

Halda’s hull and a peak into her forlorn looking cabin…

While strolling the yard at Titchmarsh I also stumbled upon this rather lovely looking thing … I’m not sure what class she comes from, but a bucket load of love and attention has been lavished upon her. She looked coseted and ready for the water. Wonderful!

A lovely little thing … is she a local class?

During our wanderings we were walking back to Fox’s marina from Ipswich when I spotted two Stella class clinker sloops in an open sided shed on the lower side of the cut. The owner of the site was working on a fine open fishing boat from the Rye area. He told me that the Stellas were undergoing refurbishment by a boat builder/restorer who until recently worked the site. he’s now at another larger location down the Shotley peninsula … the two boats are awaiting transport. In Fox’ s itself I had a good look at a Stella which had clearly had a recent refurb. She looked good, so a renaissance of the class appears to be in progress…

 Astern of the two Stellas was an open clinker dinghy, which looked as if it too were likely to see the water again…

Life in this old girl yet…?

While on the subject of open boats. Whilst in Aldeburgh I wandered along a beach (There’s lots there!) and photographed a number of ‘abandoned’ open beach fishing boats. Some were clearly in a poorer state than others, but it looked unlikely that other than a tourist attraction, their purposes had been spent. Sad, but a modern lighter weight more versatile (possibly) GRP type with powerful engines saves time and money for the operator, dealing mainly in line caught fish and lobster/crabs.

The end…?

For this one below though, it wasn’t the end: she was rescued by Robert Simper some years ago, refurbished, (by others, I believe) and now in regular use on the River Deben, where she can often be seen at her moorings off Robert’s home by the Shottisham sluice. I’ve seen her out and about as far afield as the River Orwell, but here she is off the Rocks…

Robert a Pearl Simper’s little beauty…

A little gem of a vessel seen down near Felixstowe Ferry – she harps back to a simpler age … looks like a gentleman’s pocket cruiser…

Below are two views of a little weekender clinker gaff cutter seen at Andy Seedhouse’s yard in Woodbridge. Think she’s have suited our ‘boy’…

Ah well, so that is it…