For some while now the May Flower’s bob stick has been hanging on an old boot lace lashed to a central heating pipe in the corner of my study (cum put-me-up), gathering dust… It occurred to me that it could have a better use.

May Flower’s bob stick, with topmast ring and acorn…

So, to release my good Mate Christobel from needless dusting (Her duty: I’ hoover’…) I dropped the Sea-change Sailing Trust a line and offered them these relics, which in all probability were the fittings on the May Flower’s  topmast when she was crossing tacks with the Blue Mermaid near the West Hook Middle (Before buoy was moved recently) on 9th July 1941. The Blue Mermaid being a steel barge set off a magnetic mine. Apparently the vessel was lifted clear of the water and when she came down, there was nothing to see… The May Flower sailed back over to the spot to find only flotsam. Her crew perished.

The upshot is that the SCST now have these bits and Jim Dines is certain that the ring and acorn will adorn the new barge’s topmast…

While delivering the item, I met the Economic Development Officer for Maldon Town Council, Heidi Turnbull, who was enjoying a talk with Richard Titchener about the trust’s work and how the new vessel would be integrated into their core work.

Outside was the barge’s bowsprit and windlass which has been retrieved from the sailing barge Ena at her last berth within the Hoo barge graveyard.

Windlass carcass being de-rusted in preparation for a fresh use…

Close by was the bowsprit heel pivot assembly…

I then went aboard the Blue Mermaid which is sitting in Heritage Marine’s floating dock where all sorts of works are ongoing.

Heidi Turnbull with Richard in the cargo hold…

Mizzen sprit and mainsail setting boom…

View looking aft – new leeboard crab winches offered into place.

Windlass bitts in place…

Main mast case ready for finishing…

It was a pleasing visit to this very worthwhile cause: when the barge is completed the charity will be able to continue working all year round, afloat…

Check out the trust at: http://www.seachangesailingtrust.org.uk

Christobel is currently knitting a further batch of wooly hats for people on trips who forget theirs!

My Mate Christobel knitting hats – anyone can help…

Essex Book Festival 2018

 

Some while ago I was asked by the chair of the Essex Book Festival to participate in the 2018 programme – silly to say no!

 

Nick Ardley is honoured to be participating in the 2018 Essex Book Festival.

 

This event is probably the most prestigious of any in the eastern part of England, attracting quality, serious writers.

 

I will be talking about Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View, read some extracts and answer questions.

 

Venue: Canvey Island Library

 

Tuesday 20^th March 2018 @ 1930

Price: currently unknown (c. £5 to £10)

Tickets: Mercury Theatre, Colchester, Tel: 01206 573948

www.mercurytheatre.co.uk

Canvey Island Library from January 4^th 2018 

What the publisher said:

• A book for lovers of sailing amongst salt, marsh and mud.
• A passage not made within the pages of a book since the 1920s.
• Beautifully illustrated with modern images from the water interspersed with old prints.
• Rochester to Richmond is of love and enthusiasm for an unknown side of the River Thames.

Blurb:

People say that Nick Ardley is an eccentric, an anachronism from a simpler age, for the way he sails his clinker sloop around the Thames estuary, wending amongst the tide-riddled marshes to drop anchor where the fancy takes him. In Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View, Ardley has a clear plan: a reflective journey between Rochester and London, a path once of commerce, but now pleasure. Rochester was of immense importance to Britain’s past trading richness too. The belching chimneys pouring acrid fumes and cement dust have evaporated. Oil refineries have slipped away, but wharves lining the banks remain alive. As a distraction, he wanders a little above Rochester and then again, a little above the Pool of London towards Richmond. Between, he lands amongst the marsh and mud, finding graves and farmsteads enveloped in purslane and lavender. Many towns sailed past were part of this heritage, supplying building materials and food carried by the tan-sailed barge to London. Ardley dips and dabbles into these communities and explores how they have transformed.

Books will be available at the event.

https://essexbookfestival.org.uk/booking-details/

www.nickardley.com

 

For information I shall be at the Salty Dogs Gallery in Maldon on the evening of Thursday 30th November to message and sign copies of my latest book, Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View.

Salty Dogs Christmas Show (Gallery) is located at No. 11 Market Hill, Maldon, Essex. CM9 4PZ.

It would be great to see you…

Yes, I know, the weather people say autumn starts on the 1st September, but I’m a die-heart and take absolutely no notice of that. The seasonal change is officially the equinox on 21 September, but we’ve been enjoying such gorgeous weather that I think autumn clearly began yesterday, 1st November! I had two nights away on the Medway last week – it was fabulous. My Mate decided not to come, but regretted her decision…

Anyway, today I had a ‘sail alone’ on a splendid morning tide…

I needed to be down the creek early so I cancelled our morning perambulations through our local woodland (exercise – but we went later) and beetled down to my creek. It was just after 2 1/2 hours before high-water, yet the boat was nearly afloat. It was early. Zipping round I soon had the girl set for the off. Sail was set off the mooring. A light W-NW was blowing, although ‘blowing’ is hardly the right word for it was a light breeze.

Goose winging out of Smallgains Creek.

Creeping past two sleeping Finesse 24s, Calluna and Gypsy…

Leaving the creek I began working in long and short tacks of a lazy nature westwards. The breeze eventually threatened to die so upon reaching the old Salvation Army wharf I turned, giving up on a ‘visit’ to the island’s other yacht club.

I spotted a grebe, but as yet I haven’t seen any autumn little grebes locally. They’ll be about surely. Coming home last Friday I saw, sailing up the Ray Channel, a single tern. The thing should have been far away by now – strange. It was a touch misty when I departed, but by this point I saw the light was accentuating the fluffy cotton tops of the sea aster seed heads in a white haze above the saltings. This was heightened by a group of little egrets stalking the marsh edge intently watching the water’s surface.

The colours changed. To the west mist clung to the downs where they’re closer to the creek. Far away to the east, it had receded too. I was sailing in bubble of blue tranquillity. Apart from a chilly feeling, I felt as if it were summer again…

Above, a swirl of waders, dunlin and or knot, swooped over the mast…

I passed a boat which for a number of years has been flying plastic bags from its rigging and lines. Last springs bags are all but completely shredded now. I just do not understand why this owner (and others) continue to carry out this practice. There has been much media attention on serious programmes such as R4 and BBC1 News about the problem of ‘sea plastic’ and where it is going: surely, in time it will end up in us as it climbs through the food chain.

It was quiet. Yet across the water I the sound of the  passing of every train permeated as they ran on the lines tucked down in the Hadleigh ‘basin’ under the downs. The sound of sirens from emergency vehicles came too mixed with the gentle ‘quark’ of Brent and the cries of a myriad of waders.

Then I saw this…

This boat’s spring hanging of plastic carrier bags and such has disintegrated and is now polluting your sea…

I believe it is time for the authorities to take action. A fine, big enough to hurt needs to be instituted, even the confiscation of the vessel. Something has to be done. It is a pity that the owner’s club hasn’t done anything about: surely (I will not name them) they must hold some of the guilt too…

Turning away in utter disgust, my heart was gladdened by the sight of a gaff sail moving swiftly away from Smallgain – it could only have been one of two boats. I used to see a ‘gaffer’ regularly, but her owner has sold the boat and now I haven’t seen her sailing since the spring, sadly. She’s remained local, of the same class as Whimbrel, but her owner isn’t interested in the class group, which I find exceedingly sad about. There are five of these craft ‘up the creek’ yet none appear to have owners with the will to use the blessed things, although one is ‘laid-up’ above the bridge and unlikely to come out… Chill, Skippy, Chill!

Anyway, the direction of the ‘sail’ was moving me which boat it was likely to be. Betty II a sweet little cutter built in Leigh in 1922. She’s now owned by Dick Durham, lately of Yachting Monthly’s News Editorial, but now retired but doing YM projects on a roving basis. Dick recently posted a film of his boat returning home to Leigh-on-Sea from the South Coast … but she hadn’t for her moorings are at the Island YC on Canvey Island. Clearly Dick was doing the deed…

I ghosted round the edge of the Two Tree Island saltings towards the Leigh-on-Sea shore. And yes, it was Betty II.

Yes, Betty II with Dick Durham and a crew aboard … calling in at The Billet…

I worked past Betty II as she manoeuvred to a mooring buoy. Dick and crew were clearly going to the pub! As I was where I was, ‘The Belton Way…’ I thought. So I luffed my way onwards in the narrow channel which had barely a metre along its edges and turned off the club’s foreshore mooring trots, spinning Whimbrel on a sixpence…

Off the Belton Way Boat Club…

It was time to head homewards: the tide had turned and I was on the Leigh shore! Passing close by Betty II I chatted to Betty II’s skipper briefly. He’s staying the night and coming ‘home’ tomorrow! Whimbrel was saluted as we sailed onwards…

A salute from Betty II … Ooooo, I felt proud!

After a series of long and short tacks I fetched up under the island’s eastern saltings where a gurgling hum of feeding Brent filled the air. With sails stowed, I puttered home after nearly 3 1/2 hours out… Wonderful!

News!

Book event aboard the Edith May in Lower Halstow Dock, Lower Halstow, Kent.

Event is on Saturday 11th November, 1030 to 1600. Parking available.

The dock is off Lapwing Drive just after triangle or past pub.

Tea/coffee and cake, and also soup and crusty bread will be available.

If anyone is definitely coming along and would like to reserve a copy of book, this would help me with number to order.

Hope to see lots of you…

Well before the ‘sailing season’ my good Mate, Christobel, saw a piece tin the Times about an upcoming exhibition about Nelson at the Castle Museum in Norwich. ‘Let’s go…’ I immediately chirped, adding, ‘…we can stay overnight.’ So we did.

Earlier this week we set off up the A12 and took the long route to Norwich passing through all the coastal port villages on the way, stopping short of Hunstanton  before dropping down into Norwich via Nelson’s father’s church at Burnham Thorpe…

Blakeney was our first stop. Beautiful, but we got fleeced for a short period of parking…

Walking along the John Wallace causeway at Blakney…

A Norfolk Mussel Boat

Chatting to the owner of a little motorised launch with a tasty fore and aft shape I learnt that she was a copy of a local Mussel Boat. There were several others on moorings, but rigged for sailing. The owner was also a skiff rower and had done the ‘Round Canvey Island’ jaunt during August. He complimented the Island YC in particular for its welcome and care…

Sailing version of ‘new’ boat.

Then we stopped by at Wells-Next-The-Sea (or Far-From-The-Sea) after passing through Stiffkey where a boat rehabilitation trust is based. It is interesting to see how far the tide has receded at Stiffkey – its very name indicating a corruption of a maritime past. The tide though is gradually coming back in…

Wells is a true tourist rip off place, especially with regards to parking – we beat a retreat fairly quickly

In Wells, I spotted a boat that looked like the original of the little mussel boats seen a little earlier at Blakeney. Moored on the same pontoon were two old RNLI Lifeboats which have been restored. A board tacked to the side of a Fishermen’s shed gave some details…

The Lucy Lavers and the Ernest Tom Neathercoat.

The board!

Driving onwards the next little port was Burnham Ovary Staithe. We had been to this little port before on another, but longer, jaunt into Norfolk.

A sweet little varnished clinker ketch…

I love it for its still in use half-tide quay or Hythe. The creek is quiet and essentially a potterer’s paradise. At the top of the staithe is an old barge’s crab winch once used to winch boats up the shore – it had the look of a lost use and would surely one day end as scrap!

Loved this!

But my good Mate was waiting…

Our next stop was Brancaster Staithe. Here we both enjoyed some local crab sitting on a wall overlooking the little fishing dock. The dock has a flushing pool, but the outer edge has not been maintained and was clearly crumbling under the ‘weight’ of tidal forces.

Brancaster Staithe with Christobel waiting patiently…

After wandering off, I found a delightful yet workmanlike little skiff. She was clearly in a sort of abandoned state, but intact.

The little boat which clearly had a mast with a lug sail, perhaps…

I was looking her over and in the act of looking closely at her construction – flat planked bottom with clinker sides – when a sharp voice called out, ‘What do you think you’re doing … what do you want.’

I was a little taken aback by the bark, from a stern looking lady. ‘Just looking,’ I said nonchalantly.

‘You’re not taking anything are you?’ she barked.

‘Why would I’, I asked, smiling, for it was clear I’d come across the angry local… I was right. I was then laid into about trippers, thieves and vagabonds from afar.

I said it was a shame the boat has been abandoned with a clear lack of attention over a long period. As the lady began to lecture me about ‘mantenance’ I stopped her in her tracks and said, as a wooden boat owner, I didn’t need a lecture, and, that I was in fact someone brought upon the water who had a deep love for the coast etc…

Two other views…

It transpired, after the lady had piped down, that the little thing is a Mussel Boat. She said the boats were grounded on the banks as the tide receded and loaded to return as the tide came back in. I told her about the way cockles used to be loaded in the same way in the Thames Estuary, but she wasn’t interested…

Before we parted I asked the lady if she’d heard of the new BBC2 maritime programme coming soon – she hadn’t. She shook her head…

I said, ‘Watch it for you’ll see me in it…’ My subtext being: perhaps you’ll understand!

I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone quite so rude on a waterfront. However, we both had had a lovely day and we chuckled over my lady as we swept inland…

Some while ago I did some filming with the BBC for a programme to be titled, a Floating History of Britain. This has materialised upon completion and immanent screening into ‘Britain Afloat’.

The programme brief was to describe the history in brief of various vessels and look at the way they had survived with new purposes after working lives had finished. Essentially, all have now become ‘play things’ but in respect to the spritsail barge, it became something more for many decades – floating/sailing homes too.

It was the floating home aspect the BBC were interested in when talking to me for the filming, plus a simplified history.

Mary Ann Ochota and me aboard Ardwina.

I was asked about many aspects of my childhood afloat with my siblings, what we got up to and what we had to do. There were ‘history’ questions and finally what the area meant to me which led me onto waterfront change – the theme in Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View. The book link is: http://fonthillmedia.com/9781781556207

Eventually during the early afternoon the Ardwina departed with the TV crew aboard for Greenwich where a charter party was to embark – I was then involved in what seemed a frenetic number of takes about the river…

Talking specifically about the childhood ‘we’ (my siblings and I) had aboard the May Flower over the course of three decades.

Ardwina on the Thames bound for Greenwich.

The programme begins on Saturday 30th September 2017. BBC2 2000 – 2030. There are some regional differences. See these links:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/corporate2/mediacentre/proginfo/2017/40/britain-afloat

http://www.yachtingmonthly.com/news/alert-boats-box-63046

Enjoy!

Dick Durham who is a member of the prestigious Island Yacht Club based on the eastern end of Canvey Island tells me that he is buying a boat for ‘ditch-crawling’ – she’s a vessel built in 1921 at Leigh-on-Sea. This means his beloved Wendy May has to go.

Wendy May showing her flowing lines after a coat of paint in the spring of 2017…

The boat is a ‘punt’ type and has been carefully maintained over the years.

She is from a Maurice Griffiths design and I feel she is very similar to MG’s Seaway design which were built from 25′ up to 30′ – described in ’60 Years a Yacht designer’ …

She is rigged as a gaff cutter with a retractable bow sprit.

Length between perpendiculars is 25’6″.

Length including bowsprit set is 32′.

Length WL is 23′.

Beam is 8’6″.

Draught is 4’3″.

She is planked in pitch pine on oak frames – copper fastened.

Wendy May was built by Williams & Parkinson at Deganwy, N. Wales in 1936.

What a handsome transom she has…

Wendy May is now available to interested people at £13, 500.00 and I’m told Dick is open to offers.

The boat is on a mud mooring at the Island YC and can be viewed by appointment with Dick.

Wendy May is a boat best suited to sailing grounds where depth is less of a problem than the Thames Estuary – although Dick’s not known to take the ground absentmindedly!

Dick can be contacted on dick.durham@btinternet.com

Tel: 01702 713613.

Go on, you know you’ll love her…

We had this in the diary before we’d even left the festival last year, and it will again be entered, hovering over a weekend in September 2018.

The weather for Friday looked a little ‘iffy’ with rain showers expected (we got some!), but not too windy – but with sunshine forecasted for Thursday, I sped across the Thames on a beam reach all the way into the West Swale, making it from mooring to mooring in two hours  I was going to go into Stangate, but had a free berth…

Christobel, the Mate, was busy with a couple of pre-arranged appointments so came over on Friday by car bring books, table and herself… Only the Cambria was ‘in’ other than Whimbrel. The harbour Office were taking a run of absences as the afternoon progressed – disappointing!

Friday dawned dry, but showers were expected. My Mate arrived while I was up at the Queen Phillipa enjoying a coffee and pressed the managers assistant to open a decent coffee shop down near the harbour…

The Leigh Bawley Doris arriving…

The steam tug Barking arriving with a blast from her whistle.

With fresh stores, I was able to dish up a tasty chicken tikka marsala for our supper before repairing ashore by the liberty boat for a jar at the local micro pub and yacht club (They’re mad in there!) but an old friend reserved himself a copy of Rochester to Richmond… Thanks Big Al!

Saturday dawned bright. Immediately after munching a bacon roll I was away in the dinghy for a spin round the harbour while Christobel cleared away.

Whimbrel and Cambria in the morning glare…

For once I was organised and flew a banner…

A Maurice Griffiths design with gaff rig.

What a splendid sight.

Because the boats that were supposed to be on the pontoon hadn’t come, I was given a berth alongside Doris, berthing later in the day. By early afternoon the footfall really got heavy and people began to purchase books too. Christobel had to hightail it back aboard Whimbrel for a steady stream of people wanted to have a look and get ‘the tour’…!

People streaming aboard Whimbrel.

Cambria’s transom from my stall… The barge proved to be quite a ‘pull’.

A tap on the shoulder while I was talking to a book fan brought me into conversation with a reporter from the Sheerness Guardian. He’d been asked to find me and take a picture of a happy customer with the new book. Grand!

It was so pleasing to meet so many people that have so enjoyed my writing. Humbling in fact. After a recent ‘berating’ from a single person, I have felt extremely fragile and have currently dismissed thoughts of further writings. One chap said, ‘…from my first reading Salt, Marsh & Mud, I felt I’ve know you both and feel I’m sailing along aboard Whimbrel…’ and another lady said how much she’s enjoying all the books… I must admit a little tear developed when I told the Mate. Ah!

With Denis and his sister Terry aboard Doris…

Sunday dawned and it was time to high-tail it back across the Thames: wind was expected. And now moored awaiting tide, it has arrived.

I waved the Mate goodbye…

Mate Christobel’s customary two armed wave…

Approaching Queenborough Spit I spotted a boat which had tacked soon after rounding and apparently west bound – strange I thought. As I passed the spit buoy the boat came round again. A lone chap called out, ‘Hi Nick…’ then, ‘how old are you?’ (!) I answered and a conversation ensued. It turned out the man is Peter Parsons (known as The Vicar! from his days working on the rebuild of the Mirosa). He met me when I was eleven at Twinney Dock on a visit to the May Flower. A blast from the past. He then went on to say that he’d been looking out for me: he wanted to pass his thanks for all the books he’s enjoyed – now this has happened around ten times this summer. Very touching and as per I’ve said before and I humbly thanked him.

As we parted Peter called out, ‘hope to meet for some tea soon … I’m at the Medway Yacht Club…’

I snapped Peter’s boat, Grey Lad, as we went away in opposite directions. Sadly, he’d said, his Mate no longer sails … she’s suffering from Alzheimer’s disease… His wife had been his sailing partner in the manner of my Christobel…

Thank you Peter, should you read this.

It was a great sail across with an hours ebb on way to Grain Flats and dead water most f way across channel…

Shooting past the Mid Nore Swatch…

 

6.7 knots heading into the Ray Channel…

And, the seals were basking on the sands to watch me past…

A Great Weekend. Thank you Queenborough Harbour Trust. And, you are always so helpful…

As I have been away from home I haven’t been able to see a copy of Rochester to Richmond in the ‘flesh’, however, now I have: my good mate, wife Christobel, has purchased her own copy…

She was in floods of tears as she showed it to me!

Silly ‘old’ thing!

Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View.

 

 

 

 

One of the joys of cruising the east coast is the way one often meets with old friends. These may be people or craft in my mind. Here though I shall specifically refer to various craft met before.

One of the places I really enjoy is Woodbridge. Not for the town alone: along the shore of the upper river sit old friends. Some will be on the move at some stage soon for in one case Cachalot, a cutter built in a wood yard outside Folkestone, Kent, during the Boer War is nearing a decade long rebuild. I first met this vessel some four or five years ago and wrote a little about her.

 

Cachalot … shortly after being launched at Woodbridge.

Her old name board in a pile for disposal…

Cachalot is broad in the beam displaying very much an air of work rather than pleasure for the period when built…

Whilst in Woodbridge, I rounded up a fellow Finesse owner (of Faith) to assist in moving Cachalot’s mast into a covered area. We were rewarded with a lovely fresh coffee and choc biscuits! The owners are hoping to have her rigged out before the end of the year – she can be seen at the Tide Mill Marina.

Up on the same piece of hard standing I came across another boat which has lain abandoned for around a decade… She is unlikely to go anywhere now. She’s a ply version of a well known west country inspired gaffer.

She doesn’t look too bad from this angle, but look closely…

Within her cockpit are several saplings growing quite happily, feeding on rain water and ‘nutrients’ from rotting wood!

A little further upriver from the marina my good Mate and I went to look at a Finesse 24 we knew has been sitting out of the water for a number of years. She looked sad, but some marks indicated something was possibly happening – paint had been scraped away to expose planking… I went in search of the yard manager who I’ve chatted to on various occasions.

 

Mackerel Sky…

The boat, Mackerel Sky has been recently purchased by a new owner who has instructed the yard to provide a schedule of work that requires to be done. Good news indeed. This boat was for many years moored close to home, at the Benfleet YC before going up to Norfolk…

After a little while we pitched up in the Walton backwaters. On a visit to Titchmarsh marina to clear three loads of laundry from our ‘bilges’ and, being weather bound too, I wandered across the marina’s yard to look for Halda, a Finesse 24 dating to around 1972. She was a ‘gaffer’ and has lain abandoned for around fifteen years, mouldering and rotting. There are many useful parts still fixed in place.

Two views of Halda…

The boat’s name came from a corruption of the names of the original owners.

Talking to the yard office, I discovered that this is likely to be my last acquaintance: she is imminently due to be cut up and burnt. Christobel, Whimbrel’s good Mate, asked to have a look. I watched, surreptitiously, as she stroked the boat and mouthed some unheard words.

Goodbye old girl, ‘fond’ memories…

 

In the past couple of weeks we have been subjected to a few cases of poor etiquette, so it has occurred to me that perhaps this is an area of sea going lore that is on the wain, or sadly, has died.

Currently we are sailing on the River Deben. We had sailed up to the road bridge by Wilford Quay and pottered back to clear Woodbridge under mainsail and a little engine … clearing the town we were soon sailing properly, munching on cheese sandwiches. The Deben was looking glorious with a good sprinkling of craft proceeding up and down.

On the way up to Wilford Bridge…

After passing through Stoners Cut and heading down into the Rocks with wind on starboard I was forced to let fly jib sheet to luff up round a channel buoy as a twin masted yacht sailed on, regardless, on port tack with bags of space to his starboard (he was cutting buoy…). He waved apparently as he passed. I scowled. My Mate said, ‘You weren’t happy about that…’ An understatement!

I could have tacked earlier, but why should one have to guess a persons stupidity…

Sailing through Stoner’s Cut…

Anyway, the sail down to Felixstowe Ferry was without further incident…

The next gripe happened at Brightlingsea.

We’d berthed earlier and were having a pre-dinner glass when a commotion outside caught my attention. A motor cruiser was coming in down-wind with a young lass on the down-ward sloping deck trying to get ashore, opposite and astern of Whimbrel.

It all went wrong and the ‘river’ went ‘full’ ahead to try and turn. It was all far too late. His bow struck the pontoon and his stern wacked our stern mounted ladder, bounced and came down on the edge of the aft plank lands…

Ladder is now slightly off-set. The damage to transom, a dented plank end and cracked paint line has been repaired. Dent will always now be there.

I had to instruct the crew as to how to get themselves out of the mess whilst fending there craft from Whimbrel. He went to operate his engine. I stopped him: his out-drive was under our bilge…

They sorted themselves out. We waited for a visit. We waited a little longer. Eventually around 30 minutes after they had got safely moored we went round for a chat … to cut a long story short, I left the owner under no illusions as to what he should have done (in the nicest possible way) – pop round to other boat and apologise and ask if all is well.

He said, ‘I was going to come round…’ Yes, well, I don’t think so…

The last, which has hurt a little, was spotted on the noticeboard of the Colne Yacht Club. An advert with a picture of Whimbrel was advertising ‘her’ for sale. The picture wasn’t credited, but it at least said ‘like’ in a description of a vessel for sale.

I phoned the chap up and invited him to come along to the Finesse Rally evening at the CYC the coming Saturday – he said he would.

When we met he did apologise for using the picture … what he didn’t tell me was that the advert is posted at other yacht clubs, or, to me what s more unsavory, is on the web based Apolloduck sales site… The picture is in colour and clearly Whimbrel. There is nothing to say that the pictured boat is not the vessel for sale.

See: https://www.apolloduck.com/boat.phtml?id=529810

Never mind copyright rules … I’m close to being incensed.

‘Let’s go to Bridgemarsh,’ I said to my Mate when planning our last few days on the Crouch and Roach. Bridgemarsh marina (boatyard) sits up the named creek inside Bridgemarsh Island which was flooded many years ago. It was once farmed and also had a brickworks. The old hard still runs across. The island is owned by The Bridgemarsh Island Trust and is a ‘no go’ area…

Some of the remnants on Bridgemarsh Island – close to the old crossing.

We were in Yokesfleet Creek where seals abound, and oh what wonder the little pups are! So, leaving under our jib the next morning, we had a wonderful sail out into the Crouch and up past the fleshpots of Burnham. Approaching Bridgemarsh Creek the jib was dropped and we puttered in under the diesel and rounded up to a vacant berth.

Whimbrel comfortably berthed…

Later we found that there is actually a designated visitors mooring at the top end of the first outer pontoon, however, the yard were content with our chosen slot – the cost for a 24-footer a mere £7.50…

Looking up the ‘middle ground’ between outer and inner pontoons at lower end of complex.

There is a clean and serviceable toilet and shower block over the seawall near the office and upon a converted lighter is a marina bar where fine local ales can be enjoyed, plus food is available. The atmosphere is relaxed and friendly – no sharp suits in this place! The owner has his own boat at the yard – a giant of a ship moored next to the old hard running across to Bridgemarsh Island.

Owner’s boat, the club-ship and yard area.

We went for a potter up the access lane and found it to be lined with fruit trees – ‘wild’ plums we thought after tasting them. The fruits were the size of large cherries, however, the taste was of plum. A lady we spoke to, a tattooist, said there’d been recent speculation as to the fruit’s identity  … Christobel would have picked a basinful if jam making was easy on our Whimbrel … the lady said she was planning to make some with a granddaughter.

Delicious fruits for the taking … there were some golden yellow too.

My Mate returned to the boat whilst I wandered. The yard held a mix of sailors and motor craft, but what took my attention were a few oldsters chocked up and clearly in use as ‘weekend retreats’. It ran with the easy-going feel of the place and friendliness we met at every turn.

This old girl has the look of a ‘Rositer’ I felt…

I stood wondering what ship this had come off, how long ago it was and what joy she had once given a ‘youngster’ with his or her first little ship – a rison – from a bygone age.

Then I came across this relic. A WW2 landing craft capable of carrying a jeep and a bagful of troops – what of her history?

There were two other craft of interest too. An old ‘Dutchman’ built of wood and a Seaking, once owned by the yard manager (John). It later transpired, when paying our dues, John once owned Pippit, a Finesse 24, some years ago. ‘Had her for around three years,’ he said, ‘…a lovely boat…’ We know Pippit and her crew…

The ‘Dutchman’ and the Seaking.

Departing the next morning under jib, bound for Burnham ready for a jump to the Blackwater, I ‘caught’ the entrance beacon and the line of three buoys under the starboard bow…

The creek’s markers…

We both thoroughly enjoyed our short stay and would go back again. John and the ‘crew’ were extremely helpful, friendly and the ethos ran through the place, even to the bar where we were welcomed. And, local Crouch Ales sat in barrels on a shelf. Lovely…

 

My dear wife and Whmbrel’s Mate had given up her place to allow my sister and two friends to sail aboard the good ship and one of the places we wandered into was Wivenhoe, a place I’d not been to for some while, favouring Rowhedge!

We’d spent the night in a quiet little spot beneath the woods beneath Marriages and pottered up as soon as sufficient water allowed. A boat was leaving so we slid alongside in its wake. I took the crew on a wander through the waterside town, where stores were procured, before finding ourselves upon the waterfront. From the water this village is pretty, but ashore it has secrets galore.

The Nottage Maritime Institute was open and we were allowed to wander around the downstairs workshop. Above some filming was taking place  something to do with fabrics, so we conversed in hushed voices…

The Nottage Institute’s headquarters in its prominent position on the quay facing the water.

The Nottage Institute has been operating for a jolly long time and was set up to further the education of maritime people. A job it continues to fulfill in many ways, including running boat building courses. A boat building course runs on Saturdays and it can take students around four years to complete.

In the workshop were a plethora of dinghies in various stages of completion.

Ah yes, wood, glorious wood…

I chatted to the chap who let us in, Barry Crickmore, who talked me through the dinghies in the various stages of build. ‘Some,’ he said, ‘were a little over built…’ having scantlings and such large enough for a Finesse 24, I thought. But, oh such beautiful craftsmanship.

I loved this one…

Leaving, we all had a coffee, except my pal, Steve: he said it was lunch time, so enjoyed a beer!

Around the waterfront are a selection of craft in various states of preservation. A number of vessels are clearly loved and regularly used, but others are sadly neglected. Some are in such a state as to wonder how much longer it is before the mud around them swallows their creaking hulls.

There is a smack with a broken or cut off mast which I’ve seen year by year sailing by. Around are dinghies, little launches and yachts. Three of which I felt saddened by…

Here, grey wood beneath peeling paint and a cockpit showing signs of weather damage due to ill fitting cover…

This little ship, once sweet and graceful, looked as if the tide was creeping in and out … I looked and walked on.

This yacht, similar in hull shape to the above but larger, showed signs of some activity: rusted tools lay around the cockpit… My friend muttered something in Welsh, being a son of that land, and although not translating, I understood his feelings!

As I walked through a lane bedecked with floral displays in a host of summer colours, I mused upon the new and old, wondering perhaps if one or two of those Nottage students would be inclined to use learnt skills to save an ‘old gal’ for beneath the grime and peeling paint a pretty little thing is crying out for a new dress…

 

 

 

Well, the full cover pdf has arrived. One small change to wording of the blurb in hand, but I have decided to post as is…

Rochester to Richmond Full Cover

 

I hope all can open the ink.

It’s marvelous what can be done out at anchor these days, I was talking earlier to a chap who has email, but doesn’t use it. Perhaps one day I might enter the age of a ‘smart’ phone… Maybe!

Long ago a chap from New Zealand contacted with words of support and admiration for my writing – something I always find difficult to handle! During the intervening years this fine fellow has fed me with snippets of information and sometimes whole ‘e’ books found on the web.

Some years ago I took the chap sailing while he was in England visiting family, who, strangely, resided just a few roads away from my own home in Hadleigh, Essex. On being told about a return visit of some duration, I booked my friend aboard Whimbrel for a sail of more than a gander on the tide.

My friend: made in England and now domiciled in New Zealand…

Last week he made it aboard … our plans were for a tour of the Medway, perhaps dropping into the Swale before hi-tailing it up the coast to Bradwell via Pyefleet and West Mersea. All was achieved.

What might you ask was the chap’s ‘lost love’. No, not his dear wife left home alone back down under. No this was something he fell in love with as a boy. It, or we should say, she, was probably the greatest of the Thames barge fleet: the Veronica. She with her Everard sisters, the Sara and Dreadnought used to chase and harry the Sirdar, then operated by London & Rochester – the Medway based barge owners.

My friend’s lost love, the Veronica in full flow… (Original owned by K. Patten) 

Well, I heard on the wires that my friend had held a long desire to reacquaint himself with his lost love. I promised to oblige.

After a night in Queenborough, we left at the bottom of the tide and made our way to Stangate and sailed as far as we could into Funton Creek, finally grounding a little out f sight of the barge’s resting place amongst a cluster of various types. As the tide rose, we set off in the dinghy, poking and punting over the mud flats…

‘Look…’ he said, ‘she’s over there…’

A look of wonder crept across my friend’s face as he spied what looked like a barge in the distance, buried in a mire of other craft. I grinned!

Creeping closer the beam turned a little sour as he saw what I knew was there to see: a pile of rotting timbers with a passing resemblance to a graceful sailing machine.

‘My goodness…’ 

A disbelieving ‘My goodness…’ or something similar emanated from my friend’s vocal chords in a strangled and cracked cry. Closing, my friend reached out and with an oh so gentle caress he took a hold of her. Alas, a little of her degraded and unloved timber came away in his hand. He tried to push it back into place, as I thought I saw a tear well… Wow, a man after my own heart!

With a gentle caress…

We began to row away, not wanting to start the noisy outboard and disturb the sad serenity of this sorrowful graveyard.

A view of the Veronica’s port side, her stem still standing proud…

Before pulling the cord which would break the magic of the place, I said, ‘Would you like to see the Sirdar?’ She sat in view along the Funton shore beneath the mound of Raspberry Hill.

‘No,’ he said, ‘Let’s leave her in peace…’

Yes, I felt too that we should leave this lady to the quiet contemplation of all her wonderful deeds, honouring our own memories of her peak years, which we too would carry to our graves.

Leaving, I doubted if I would be likely to return again: the Veronica’s deterioration has been rather rapid over the last few years and soon there will be little to see…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last weekend we sailed away from our home waters and made for Queenborough – it was my birthday weekend. I fancied a pie at the Old House at Home. Which we did, after sampling the brews at a new little mico-pub on the lane leading to the creek harbour.

Huge numbers of Dutch yachts were seen too. These have been arriving since the Bank Holiday weekend when Queenborough was full of them. They’ve been over for celebrations of the 350th anniversary of the Dutch raid on the Medway (Battle of Chatham to the Dutch). Essentially, since then we have been friends!

A fine old ‘Dutchman’ came in…

On the Sunday we sailed for Conyer, deciding to go up the creek that afternoon: it was due to windy from the west and the South Deep isn’t the best anchorage in those conditions. We went to Conyer especially to visit The Ship for nosh on the 12th! It was good.

As a birthday treat we went for a hike inland along the high ground bordering the old creek running inland to Tonge, a sleepy village seemingly miles from the sea – yet, one day it could come flooding back.

‘Come on…’ she called, ‘I’m waiting!’ My good Mate dwarfed by high hedges protecting fruit trees.

The western arm of Conyer Creek wanders inland from its sluice initially in a winding fashion. Then it straightens and wends its way to Tonge. We walked the wall to Blacketts by a farm track that also form part of the National Cycle Network – route 1. Leaving that we wandered dreamily down lanes with extremely high leafy hedges. The air was thick with scents. Behind many hedges were rows of modern fruit trees (bushes?) set to wires.

Tonge Court

Across the low ground we were skirting, for this road was once above the saltings fringes, was a Tudor timber framed house set above the low ground on a walled and buttressed mound. The lane leading to it was clearly marked ‘No Access’! Shame. The bed of the old creek can be seen in the foreground.

Passing Tonge village church we came upon the old mill. A newer steam mill building with its chimney has survived too, converted, it seemed into flats.

The Tonge mills.

The mill pools have been retained and trickle away, down hill, into the old creek bed.

Tonge ‘creek’ running away towards Conyer’s creek.

Passing under the London rail line we walked eastwards to the old tramway path back to Conyer from Barrow Green. It was an interesting potter inland, looking at what was once tidal, but now sweet Kent countryside… Some years ago we’d walked the eastern side of this area looking for an old wharf now set at the edge of a field between Teynham and Deerton Street, where, many moons ago a creek ran in.

It is interesting to note that, in effect, Conyer Creek is a man manufactured entity when ‘he’ tidied the land, drained it and walled it…

All through this period I was also ‘working’ for my publisher sent me a birthday present – the pdf (galley) copy of Rochester to Richmond to review and edit – final chance … it was nice of them. I’d been given three days

Galley copy and manuscript laid out on laptop screen…

Leaving Queenborough we had a night in Stangate before heading home, sailing through a myriad of Dutchmen who’d arrived overnight!

Boats arriving in the early hours … around 0500.

I’d like to think that others amongst the cruising fraternity take the time to look and wander. It brings you closer to the places visited…

 

 

 

How many times have you leant awkwardly over the bow of your craft to reach down to a mooring buoy with a boat hook to catch an eye? More often than not the ‘eye’ is a shackle which is resting on its side. The bow is moving up and down to wash and wind waves. Just as you think you’ve got it the boat falls back as the helm reduces power or doesn’t, or can’t see the brute!

On Whimbrel we have honed this manoeuvre to near perfection, mostly … for there have been moments. As often as not I bring the bow onto the buoy so that it is a little forward of the shrouds, this means I can often run the mooring line whilst my good wife holds onto the hook line.

In the 2016/17 RNSA Journal, I spotted something that is set to revolutionise mooring grabbing. A new type of mooring has been developed and is being trialled down in Portsmouth Harbour. From the upper face of a standard cylindrical mooring buoy is a rigid post with an upturned truncated cone top-piece from which the line hangs.

New type of mooring buoy with pillar… (Picture courtesy of RNSA 2016-17 Journal.)

The buoy is known as a Mara Buoy manufactured by Mara Engineering for the Sea. Go to www.maraefs.com and is available through an agent in Aberdeen… The manufacturer is in the USA.

The bse unit looks to be softer than those we all normally experience. With a clinker planked vessel the hard buoys do a lot of damage. Whilst looking this buoy up I came across a company which stated, ‘…a buoy doesn’t need to be hard…’ Yes, well!

Wonder when mooring managers will spot this unit and say to themselves, ‘time for a change…’

Hey Ho!

It all seemed a very long time ago when I said to my wife and shipmate, that I would like to make a go of a passage up the London River to view the tall ships which were due to congregate for a parade start to their seasonal voyaging. This year the series runs in a circuitous route round the Atlantic culminating in a grand parade of sail in Montreal in celebration of the 150th anniversary Canadian Confederation. The start was at Greenwich: Lt. General Wolfe lived here before sailing away to his death on the Plains of Abraham above the seaway…

As our departure approached we were enjoying a wonderful settled April, after a brilliant March  (when I’d managed to get nearly all my varnishing done…), and it remained settled other than a blip due mid Easter week. We planned to be within the Limehouse bosom by then for it was decided to get away earlier.

Christobel taking it easy, off watch…

We enjoyed a sparkling sail to Gravesend after getting away from our Island YC mooring about two hours before high water, arriving nearly an hour after with a sluicing ebb endeavoring to bury the sailing club moorings. Dropping sail we safely moored under power… A club member had offered use of his mooring. A convivial supper was enjoyed!

Sunrise off Gravesend…

As soon as the tide neared its turn, we were off the next morning. The breeze had more west than north, even though the latter was forecasted. Traffic was light, but a ship movement was expected from the lock at Tilbury and a ‘big’ ship was on the move from the river berth beyond.

The engine was needed to clear the Tilbury landing stage and passenger terminal: we lost wind! But, a little later, crossing the channel on a tack the jib halyard decided it wasn’t going to play anymore as it dropped nonchalantly onto the deck! The head cringle seizing had failed. In a jiffy I had the sail on deck where it more or less put itself … and bent on the cruising chute halyard … service resumed and the Mate shut down the engine again, which I’d called for, Tilbury Lock loomed!

In the channel ahead a large ship had suffered engine failure (been there when at sea…) and was by then being shepherded by two tugs. We went past well to the ‘south’ on the ‘wrong’ side. The sailing settled into long and short tacks before being able to sweep round Broadness. The tack took us to just below the QE2 Bridge. The rdio had been spluttering about a couple of tall ships and the first was sighted way astern over Stone Ness. Long Reach was a perfect zig-zag tack and half way up, we were passed by the Hendrica Bartelds, a Dutch triple masted schooner.

The Hendrica Bartelds…

Progress was excellent and a noon (ish) arrival at Greenwich YC looked good. It wasn’t until near Gallions Point that the next ship appeared. This was the Christian Radich, a proper fully rigged ship built as a training vessel by Norway in 1937. She made a fabulous sight on the tideway.

With the Christian Radich off Woolwich…

It wasn’t long before we called the barrier, went though and moored to the GYC trot buoys. I’ve often tried to contact the powers to be here, but have never received a response. Pitching up seems to be the order of the day. No one bothered us!

During the afternoon we ‘enjoyed’ the numerous wash waves from the fast ferries and the sight of various ships coming up on the flood.

The Vera Cruz, a 1400’s caravel under the Portuguese flag.

The waterfront along this reach Bugsbys, had undergone, and continues to, huge changes from when I was last here in August 2016. Flats have blotted out a pleasing view of the Dome and across the river along the Silver Town shore building is furious.

The next day we slipped and set sail, managing to reach the entrance to Limehouse under wind power alone. An ‘exciting’ event took place a as we berthed: the Mate decided to try and walk on water. The experiment failed – divine intervention was having a day off… Two women, a group of children and two men witnessed it. The women wanted to know if she needed a hot drink … pointing out that my immediate intention was to get her out, they watched! Help, not a B- chance! I have to say I didn’t shout for it…

The inflated life jacket after its ‘testing’ by the mate … after a shower she was none the worse…

Whilst in London we’d a series of planned events. The British Museum, a local walk, A visit to Greenwich, attend the Passion Play in Trafalgar Square and family evening meets … a cousin and a handful of nephews and nieces with our ‘boy’…

 

Cousin Roger and wife Judy aboard Whimbrel before dining at The Grapes…

The visit to Greenwich included a visit to the Queen’s House a place visited long ago, but not since a revamping. We found that it lacked a little something. the pictures are fine, but various rooms could have been fitted out as they were when in use. the building has had  varied life from palace to school. Interestingly we were able to visit the crypt beneath St Alfege’s, Greenwich, and view the Wolfe family vault.

A period wood turner at work making thole pins.

Greenwich water front on the Saturday…

A Thames dock scene from around 100 years ago…

Finally, leaving day arrived, but not before we’d attended St Anne’s, Limehouse, for an Easter service. We locked out around 1500 and made sail, reaching over the still flooding tide for we wanted to make Erith by around 1900.

Approaching Deptford Creek ships underway were spied. It was here that the main sheet spun one of my sailing seats into the river … I last saw it disappearing under a ferry’s … I’m now in the process of making a new one!

A busier waterway was enjoyed…

One little ship, the Jante, rounded our stern and crept along beside us for a little while before pulling away. Cameras clicked and we were saluted!

Goose winging into Greenwich Reach…

British ships were conspicuous by their absence – The Earl of Pembroke gladdened the heart…

We soon sailed clear of the melee of vessels coming up from Woolwich where the majority of ships had been berthed during their stay. The flotilla was beginning to form up as we rounded Blackwall Point, chased by several other motoring yachts – one of which, a big one, came round our stern and then across the bow. I muttered as the mate huffed and puffed. Prat!

Approaching the barrier we saw the first of the ships and one after another they passed us by on our sail to Erith. It was a grand sail and the good mate did more than her share as I got a bolognese sauce underway below … it sat seeping as we swept down the reaches as wind and tide lifted us close to 7 knots at times!

The Hydrogen dropped her passengers at Woolwich and ‘joined’ the fleet sailing with the Blue Clipper…

Along the route hundreds of people were watching. Massed, of course in central areas, but scattered groups were seen, including around the lighthouse at Margaret Ness. Off Erith Pier, ‘loaded’ with excited folk, a call was made for vessels to sound horns … so we tested ours to loud cheering…

Ah yes, I did enjoy a beer as the stream continued passing and later, a coffee, well laced as several more passed in the evenings gathering gloom.

The next morning, we were up with the lark and sailed for home.

It was grand.

Some weeks ago a new member of my yacht club shocked me with a report that the Blackwater Marina was being closed down. This struck me as odd: I keep my ear close to the ground and had been looking ‘them’ up fairly recently… The informant has kept his vessel on the Blackwater for a number of years and is a member of a local club, so the bells began to ring: we like to ‘pop’ in to the place during summer cruising.

The marina has a full range of craft from those being refurbished ashore, smart smacks, trad yachts and GRP types as well as a few live-aboards. It has a fantastic slipway and a drydock which accepts spritsail barges. The village has all one needs to live well afloat…

There wasn’t anything on the marina’s web site to substantiate the claim so I contacted…

The Blackwater Marina – unfortunately I took this for the ‘abandoned’ boat I’ve featured before… 

From the manager I received a humorous reply. He said:

‘I have absolutely no idea where the rumour came from … any site planning application is for the portion formally owned by Straight Edge Mfg … and has nothing to do with us. Please inform your source that it (the marina) will be operating as is with some improvements for years to come, at least until Essex sinks into the North Sea!’

So, there we have it. Thankfully…