Reading the article below reminded me of a ‘man overboard’ incident from Whimbrel with my good mate, Christobel, being the victim. We were berthing in Limehouse Marina during Easter week, April 2017.

We had gone up for two reasons – to see a Passion Play at Trafalgar Square and see the tall ships which congregated off Greenwich for start of race to Canada.

Our assigned berth was in a far corner used at the time for visitors. A large yacht meant a tight turn to berth with our bow pointing out as it were.

Christobel got herself ready, however, I failed to spot that she was standing forward of the shrouds. The turn was a cinch … as we glided towards the pontoon, I bent to give a thrust astern to stop the boat…

As I looked up Christobel made to step onto pontoon and promptly ‘disappeared’ from sight. There was a great sploosh as she plunged into the freezing water then a loud hiss as her life jacket exploded into life.

I leapt ashore with a stern line taking it round a cleat and back to boat – the guard rail I seem to remember. Boat was secured.

Next, to rescue Christobel!

A group of adults with a few young ones saw it all happen. A lady called from the quayside, ‘Do you want a coffee…’

I called back, ‘Got that aboard … I need to get her out…’ None of the chaps offered to help me.

I got Christobel to hold onto jetty while I looked for a ladder. There was one, but the big boat ahead and a ‘Dutchman’ were in the way!

I had to drag Christobel up little by little until her chest was on pontoon, allowing water to drain. Once water drained from her upper clothing layers, I managed to complete the job.

Her life jacket made it difficult to pull her over the pontoon edge!

At that point our watchers sauntered off.

I gathered a bag of clothing and wash tackle and Christobel hot footed to the shower unit…

The article makes interesting reading – a tragedy and a major point regarding pontoon ladders.

Marina safety: Teacher’s drowning prompts ladder design warning

I have noticed that ladders are often difficult to reach due to berthing arrangements. Most though seem to be logically placed at the head of berths along the main walkways.

I haven’t (yet) had to use one in the emergency situation, nor do I really know how deep they go below the surface.

The transom ladder fitted to Whimbrel has two submerged steps which makes getting out far easier.

The report homed in on the ‘depth below’ aspect and has recommended a review by Marina operators…

Food for thought, for sure.

Whilst on holiday with the Mate based in a cottage in Holt, N. Norfolk recently we came across by complete accident a lovely museum dealing with boats of the Norfolk coast.

The museum, a working boatyard as well, is based at the former artillery training ground at Stiffkey. The site has all sorts within its bounds as well as caravan and holiday parks.

See: http://www.rescuewoodenboats.com/

The old working boats of the coast are unique to the local coast with its open beaches to the south on the curve from Sherringham to Great Yarmouth/Lowestoft and the shallow creeks that riddle the saltings on the more northern facing coast, running round to Kings Lynn.

The museum has a bent for lifeboats but has film footage of craftsmen (people) at work, artefacts and a spritsail barge model even, but it was the boat shed that lit my eyes. I think we got invited to view it as we (mate on the whole) got talking to staff about our own clinker sloop…

It was a howler dank sort of day, not really conducive to pottering, but we are hardy folk!

Inside the shed we met the resident boat builder and restorer, David Hewitt. He was actually star of one of the film clips in the main display shed. Chatting, I mentioned we owned a Finesse 24. His eyebrows raised as he said, fine boats … pity about the nailed decks! Indeed…

He had worked on two 24s locally and knew of a F21 along the coast which he had also done work on.

The boat builder told us a little about an old craft in the shed – in for some conservation as she was not on the radar for much else unless funding could be magicked up…

I was a little surprised at a lack of gunnel timbers at the top of the hull planking, but that was the way she was built.

A new vessel along similar lines was under construction with her hull all planked up ready for finishing.

Note the very deep sheerstrake plank also the wide gunnel,almost like a very narrow side deck.

Her propeller shaft was in and her engine beds were being set up ready to set up a small diesel engine.

Internal and external painting was not far off.

Within the shed too were a couple of boats receiving repair attention. One, seen above, had a large number of new ribs being fitted.

Further along the coast in Wells Harbour is a pontoon where a number of craft associated with the Boat Rescue Project are berthed. During summer months excursion outings can be booked…

Explore the web site and its sister site of the Coastal Exploration Company – fascinating stuff.

If you happen along that coastline in your travels, the museum and workshops are a worthwhile stop point. There is a cafe to quench thirst and post breakfast pangs too!

The first tender to Whimbrel was a little 8′ Tepco GRP moulded dinghy. It was a great carrier with a full bilge, but sweet she wasn’t being a bit of a tub.

In time after the demise of our Mirror dinghy, the tender was refitted with a dagger board and rudder made from the Mirror’s bits. The dinghy was rigged with a simple spritsail set on a mast made from the Mirror’s gunter gaff.

It was all rather rudimentary, but it worked!

As our boy grew up he expressed a desire for his own little boat. We looked a various, but he fancied a little Barrow-boat Sailer. This came in kit form and we all had fun building it. At the time I had looked at a 9′ ply-clinker dinghy seen at the Colne YC – she sparked and stuck in my mind.

At some point in 1994, I decided that I would like a proper tender built to sail, row and power with an outboard. A visit to Alan Staley’s yard on a jaunt up the creek into Faversham showed what was eminently suitable.

Alan fitted out a series of clinker tender GRP shells moulded by a friend. Alan kindly drove us over to his own boat’s moorings in Oare Creek to view a completed 9-footer., which he’d had for a few years.

So, that was that.

In the early autumn of 1994 I was posted to a shore based job for a two year stint (It became nearly five after being appointed to a project) and the order was placed before the days in September had travelled far.

I was based at my company’s ship refitting headquarters then located in Bath, travelling down for the week with weekends at home. The dinghy was collected from Faversham by car on a Saturday. I remember it being strapped down on a set of oars lashed to a roof rack, all tied trough the rear door window openings and to ‘bumpers’ front and back!

She arrived home safely…

The dinghy, without my knowledge, had been named Twitch by Christobel – don’t ask! The name has stuck: it is carved on a name plate inside the dinghy.

It was a late tide that particular weekend – no matter. She was rigged up to await her wetting. It was essentially dark by the time the tide made enough to get her in.

The dinghy is lugsail rigged with an un-stayed mast. She has a lift of rudder and a simple dagger board. Simplicity in itself. The same sail has seen her through too. It receives the occasional wash at home, other than that it is always on the spars, ready to hoist.

The dinghy has proved to be versatile. She is a little tender with minimal flat bilge but has great stability with four adults aboard when being rowed or propelled by the outboard engine.

With one aboard, she is an absolute joy to sail. Tacks easily and is very forgiving.

The one early lesson I learnt was to stow the mast on anything of a coastal passage. The tall mast makes her unstable in a sea. On one occasion the boat has slid down the side of a roller and capsized. Our boy was aboard once on a short passage (in a breeze) from Suffolk Yacht Harbour to Walton. Rollers were met outside Harwich Harbour. Yes. The dinghy capsized: I’d taken a risk!

Virtually all who have sailed aboard Whimbrel have enjoyed little jaunts around the harbours and creeks visited. They include, Theresa, Andrew (& Claire), Graham, Paul, Hannah and Christobel (rowing only).

I have appended a few pictures for posterity.

At the end of each season the dinghy is given ‘the once over’ to tidy up and repair varnish work. Every now and then the spars and oars get the home treatment.

Last year during the autumn, Twitch received a big refit.

See: https://nickardley.com/ditch-crawler-gets-autumn-into-his-head/

Many years ago, not so long after we purchased her, I fitted a stainless steel runner on the underside of the keel for concrete slipways and hard ground were taking their toll, chipping and wearing away the grp fell coat. It was a good move as it has surely lengthened the girl’s life.

Around fifteen years ago the hull was hard sanded and coated with a two-pot paint. These have been discontinued and current coatings are made with straight urethane paints. I’ve yet to do this.

The odd ‘disaster’ has sailed by over the years – I lost the rudder when beached on the sand bar at West Mersea – we were ashore for a BBQ. I didn’t unship the rudder! Alan Staley made up a new one after Christobel sent him the tiller…

I had to make a new tiller after the failure of the original some years ago. Other than that, little has been done.

However, stripping the sail off the spars this autumn to re-varnish them, I found several stress fractures in the sail’s gaff. Two were old with a new one sitting opposite an old which meant a repair was not available.

Alan Staley has come to my rescue and has provided a length of timber – Douglas Fir – for me to make a new one. I’d ordered a square section but he kindly made an eight-sided blank for me to finish off.

The mast was stripped to bare wood with all varnishing nearing completion as I write, the gear is almost ready to go back aboard Twitch.

Over the years, Twitch has taken me into rills that riddle the estuary’s rivers and creeks where old wharves or industries sit decaying and forgotten.

Slumbering barge remains have often been reached across shallow mud flats out of reach of land exploration. These have been recorded for soon many of these will meld into the environment and disappear.

So, bless the little ship and may she continue to serve for many more years to come!

I had taken the two part pole for booming out the Whimbrel’s headsails home for refurbishment as the ‘main’ part looked distinctly crabby.

Once dismantled I set too with a heat gun to strip the main pole of varnish. I quickly discovered the dreaded rot. The pole had to have a section cut off its outer end a few seasons back due to the very same. It had ‘collapsed’ whilst sailing with my youngest sibling as crew. At the time the wood looked good beyond the cutback.

This time it was terminal: the rot was in the middle area and along its length to outer end. It seemed to run down the centre of the original tree.

The main pole was initially made from a piece of Sitka Spruce I obtained from a long closed wood merchant in South Benfleet – they were general builders merchants but had other stuff in small quantities.

The outer pole is designed to run in housings I made from stainless steel and is secured by a pin.

I researched on line for suitable timber – it could be ordered at great expense. So, thinking that a couple of the Maldon boatyards might have some, I had a wander. Jim at Downs Road Yard had some pieces of Douglass Fir from a mast project but they were not of sufficient length, when section was good! So, onto the next yard. Scouting round the Shipways Yard by Marine Store, I spotted some suitable timber – the yard asked me to come back in a a couple of days and Adrian (manager – and boat builder/repairer) would sort me out…

Returning to the Shipways Yard, Adrian remembered me (and the mate) from a couple of visits over recent years staying at the yards visitor berth. We had a natter about ‘the Finesse’ – it transpired that he had been the man who converted F24, No.5, Mariette to gaff rig some fifteen years ago. Adrian was saddened to hear that the boat, as far as I knew, has been languishing in a rill at the Benfleet YC. Hey Ho!

Anyway, Adrian grabbed a couple of planks from a little pile of spruce planking and after ascertaining that I had neither a band saw or planer he proceeded to reduce the ‘grey’ boards of spruce to a number of battens making up a little over the finished size of the pole… Thirty quid!

I had to order up a West epoxy kit and as soon as it was delivered the battens were set up on a bench then glued and clamped.

The glued assemblage was left to cure for a couple of days before I set to and began squaring off. Our ‘boy’ who was fortunately working from his home popped over with his rudimentary but effective planer which saved some graft!

Once all the shaping with plane and then a spoke-shave was done, the pole was sanded until I was satisfied it looked and felt right.

The next job was to reassemble the housings for the outer sliding pole. Fortunately, I had been able to remove these without damaging them and a quick sand to remove old epoxy glue and they were ready.

The inner end where the mast fitting was to be fitted was given several coats of varnish prior to its final securing. That done, it was over to the varnish brush and a steady daily build up of eight coats of urethane varnish.

Once the varnishing was completed the new pole was re-leathered where the pole can come up against the forward mast stays.

The set up was originally a single pole made from the boom of Mirror dinghy 959 dating back to 1963, which I had played with for many years of childhood, as had my siblings too. The dinghy ultimately came my way and even Christobel ‘enjoyed’ a few jaunts out in it…

Within a short time, I decided that an extending booming out pole was required but did not want to go for the typical aluminium poles seen aboard cruisers. It was a kind of ‘magic moment’ when I contrived the idea of a sliding assembly in housings similar to the system in use on spritsail barges for housing and lowering of topmasts.

Oft referred to as, ‘You Play with Your Toy, I’ll steer…’ by the mate, it has worked extremely well with its adjustment ability to suit set of both the working jib and Genoa.

It was an interesting project. The laminations of the new pole are visible after varnishing and it all looks very strong: ready for the next thirty years, or so…

Now, if you had said to me eighteen months ago: ‘You’re going to sail to a new home soon…’ I’d have laughed outright. The mate would agree for she too, with reservations, was enjoying the camaraderie of the part of the Island Yacht Club we inhabited.

Weekend work party was a time to meet people and enjoy dong a myriad of maintenance and repair works.

I have wondered since how close that camaraderie actually was for the support we actually got with our prevails with the mean and bullying club hierarchy was pretty scant – no one really wanted to know. A mind set of keep heads down or I’ll be next attitude always prevails. However, that is all history now…

I wrote a post about reflecting on a ‘year of change’ on the last day of 2023.

Ditch-crawler reflects on a year of change…

The post lays out the facts behind our decision to break with a place we had loved. A place I wrote about, revered in words which will persist until the world crashes. It was sad, but necessary.

But, for me the sadness was almost fleeting as I busied myself into sorting out our new mooring and making it safe to come into a fixed fender protected pontoon.

We have now enjoyed a little over a year in our new home.

The yard has been very helpful. Yes, any services have to be paid for, but that was the case at the club. They are though a little more expensive. The mooring more so, but, as our son said, ‘you can’t take it (the money) with you dad…’ Indeed not!

The manager, Beccs, made us up a new floor board to replace one that got a stress fracture after Christobel crashed down onto it – a story to tell! I only asked if there was a piece of scrap offcut in the yard … there wasn’t a charge!

As always, I remain proactive though and if a fault is seen, I report it: staff do not always see things, and if deficiencies aren’t reported one cannot complain about them not being fixed!

At the end of February the propeller key failed as I was leaving the berth to go out. It wasn’t until clear that I fully realised as the pop rattled and knocked beneath the transom as the boat picked up speed under sail. With ideal conditions to turn back, I did, berthing under sail. Whimbrel required to be lifted out. This was achieved the day after the event. The problem was resolved the same day with a new key made by a local engineering concern – used by the yard.

See:

Ditch-crawler revels in tranquility of recent lift out…

We were out for exactly two weeks, however the charges were for a lift, wash and return at a weekend rate…

We both felt it was far to early to antifoul, but it held up well. During the summer, while sitting in Lower Halstow Dock in early August, I went over for the side for a look. It was not as bad as expected, but it needed to be scrubbed off. I set to and got to most of it apart from the middle body to port against the wall.

Coming back from an overnight sail on my own in May exemplified the friendliness of the mooring holders around us. I was early by probably ten to fifteen minutes and slid to a halt short of the berth. Going ahead, the long keel prevented boat from turning.

One of the chaps ashore called for me to toss a line … two of them then pulled as I went ahead and the bow came nicely round. They didn’t need to do that, but did, for a few minutes more the tide would have allowed…

We have often gone over to the boat and enjoyed a rural walk before completing jobs on a Saturday, also, we have gone sailing when the conditions down in Sea Reach of the Thames would have kept us ashore. The wind is not really felt until well out in the river beyond Stansgate Point, when in the northeasterly to southeasterly quarter.

With the boat moored into the face of the prevailing winds, leaving is easy and returning under sail is cool, calm and collected!

There are little differences, the Brent geese arrive a little later than down on the Thames, but they seep our way as the food sources get gobbled up and their shear numbers force a natural spreading. The terns ‘disappear’ at the same time as elsewhere, but waders, in general, are present throughout the seasons. I always look forward to the winter breeds which eventually smother the mud flats. Overwintering duck like the widgeon with their whistling call can be seen close up as they feed along the mud edges close by the boat.

Throughout the year we have a seal colony in the entrance to Lawling Creek and our regular anchorage spot when overnighting for whatever reason is almost in casting distance.

So, on reflection, it has all been rather refreshing. There are some regrets, there always are, but we have suffered from absolutely no stresses. I have gradually ‘washed’ off the hurt. Perhaps one day I shall write about it, but maybe not…

Oh, I mustn’t forget, cake. Yes, for we used to provide the work party regularly. Now, after our around six-weekly stints doing coffee morning at our church, a plate of spare cake goes to the yard. Boy do they appreciate it!

And on that note, before leaving the Thames, Medway and Swale at the end of August (2024), a cake, specially made by Christobel, was given to the helpful staff at Queenborough Harbour Trust.

Apparently, no one else has presented them with homemade cake since we left the area…

During the early summer a film was released about ‘Wind, Tide and Oar’ by a film maker and ‘ardent’ supporters of the non use of propulsive power in the boat’s belly.

The mate and I attended one of numerous showings of the film aboard the Sea-change Sailing Trust’s barge, Blue Mermaid, which had received a grant to take the film to a host of east coast ports for public screening. The ports ranged from Lowestoft to Ramsgate, the allowable trading limits of the Blue Mermaid.

The Blue Mermaid is a new spritsail barge which has gained a 110 tonne cargo carriage certificate. Unfortunately, finding such loads has proved difficult but numerous smaller cargoes gave been carried, using wind and tide alone.

Now, as many will know, the diesel under Whimbrel’s cockpit floor is used as little as possible. If a passage can be safely made under sail alone, that is way it is done. During the summer period, we covered 700 nautical miles and I purchased a mere 30 litres of fuel. We traversed the Thames to St Katharine Docks twice, sailing most of those miles. Unfortunately, there were a couple of long passage trips where the engine was called into use.

It is the same too for departures. From an anchorage and mooring buoys especially, and a marina berth too if it is feasible without causing a hazard to others. The same is true for arrivals.

During last year a meet took place between vessels and people who followed the principle of engine-less sailing. The event was based around Pin Mill with sailing at the heart. Among a group of traditional yachts and one in particular more modern, two spritsail barges took part, EDME and Blue Mermaid. The film has footage of the goings on.

The film discusses the pros and cons of engine-less sailing, but something is missing, I thought, because the basics of the process of getting under way from say a buoy/anchor wasn’t covered, neither was a Marina entry/departure – the be all mooring for many ‘normal’ sailors.

Larger craft are more likely to anchor off than a ‘family boat’ but film did cover a chap with a ‘forty-footer’ moored in Ipswich where apparently sailing is not allowed in the dock. Really: I have twice in recent times sailed towards the lock!

The film had far too much time aboard a West Country Lugger to my mind – there were some good moments, nice, but what was the film time for?

The Co-producers are a half brother and sister and I wondered as it progressed if this was ‘their’ film?

There seemed to be a lot of ‘cosy cabin talk’ about environment and achievements. The lady removed an engine from her boat, yet is filmed getting away from her Maldon berth with aid of motor boat … not really in the spirit!

Christobel wanted to ask her whether or not she would sail with a young baby aboard without back up propulsion – would she feel different?

Over the forty plus years of owning Whimbrel, the mate and I have developed well honed routines, well practiced and regularly accomplished: reliance on one’s engine with a sailing vessel is unsatisfactory seamanship.

Knowing you have learnt how to get your boat to do what you want strangles the ‘fear’ of having to carry out such manoeuvres when a need comes along, as it surely will with a mechanical device tucked away under the floorboards…

It is fun too to achieve what you want – Whimbrel tracks far better under sail or momentum than under power. A gentle touch of helm is instantly answered. Note below: she is gliding towards the mooring pontoon, speed slowing allowing time to step over, pick up the forward spring, drop it onto cleat to arrest her.

I do it alone too, using a short line onto the outer pontoon cleat. Sometimes a boat hook is called for, but no one has been hit or any damage done to ourselves.

Back to the film – cargo sail is discussed. As a retired Marine Engineer Officer, I am fully aware that the maritime world is working on ‘sail’ assist, but a general reversion to sail is not credible.

Yes, there are cargoes very suited to sail transit, but these are limited in scale. There are sail cargo operations in various areas of the world – to take on containerisation, not a very likely prospect!

I thought the film was somewhat naive in this respect, as was forcibly put by the ‘chap on sitting on my left’ – Michael Everard. Michael is a member of the British Shipping Council, and ex director/owner of Everard Shipping. (Interestingly, but outwith this post, we had a bit of a chat about ‘history’ back to the last trading matches and the destruction of the Everard vessels… I also talked about my RFA life and ships in general.)

Afterwards, talking to the ‘story teller’ at the event we attended aboard the Blue Mermaid in St Katharine Docks – we travelled up from Faversham by train – I suggested, tongue in cheek, that she read my books about the changing coast and environment: there are others like me out here who espouse similar feelings and have been at it for a long time… Not a new fad to fit the climate change warnings.

The film was worthwhile viewing and it contained food for thought. The total reliance on wind, tide and oar is a pipe dream though: as Richard Titchener of the Sea-change Sailing Trust said, even the Blue Mermaid needs a pluck by a motty boat at times, and, they and other engine-less spritsail barges use the barge’s boat with an outboard in windless conditions when the need arises…

For me, the film is far too long – forty minutes could be cut to deliver same message, I thought. I hope some radical editing takes place if it goes further.

The book: https://www.waterstones.com/book/wind-tide-and-oar/huw-wahl/artur-jaschke/9789083384122?sv1=affiliate&sv_campaign_id=626889&awc=3787_1726593924_014433b8788178fa393cc2f988760242&utm_source=626889&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_campaign=Preisvergleich

The film web site: https://www.windtideandoar.com/

The mate had expressly asked for a visit into Tollesbury – it would only be an overnighter: tomorrow will be our penultimate day.

Besides, I wanted to ‘raid’ the local butcher’s shop for a proper pork chop, cut to order!m. Our ‘last supper’ tomorrow night.

We were only moored in West Mersea, so it was not a long passage!

We left under sail and crept away down Thornfleet against the flood before crossing towards the Nass Spit. It was then a run towards Tollesbury Fleet.

Entering the Fleet in mid channel close to line of moored vessels, a ‘day fisher’ roared directly at us, the mate made a course adjustment, he kept coming. After a swing to starboard by us, he swept past at full chat – he had acres of water and depth to his starboard side. But he was a day trip fisher – an absolute buffoon!

It didn’t spoil our magic for long though as we crept along nicely with the last of the flood.

Coming to Woodrolfe Creek I spotted a couple more vessels motoring out, both slowed on approach, waved and went on.

‘Thank you..,’ we both mouthed! What a difference a bit of acceptance makes.

The creek has saltings moorings on both sides, the predominant clusters are to the west, where the HQ of Fellowship Afloat is based on an old light vessel.

I nodded as we passed the two creeks holding the rotting remains of the Saltcote Belle and Memory – spritsail barges long abandoned.

The saltings was lush with growth but I felt it won’t be long before a late summer and autumnal hue pervades for it isn’t long to the change of seasons.

Off the Lightship, our mainsail was stowed and we slowly crept on under jib: the flood was nearly done.

Little did we know that we were being watched: later the Marina manager wanted to know about boat and dinghy!

Finally, on the approach to the marina’s cill, the fickle breeze died. The water had the look of a glassy millpond. It was no good – the iron torps’l was called into action.

We berthed a few minutes past eight, in time for a quiet breakfast!

It was grand, just grand…

We were bound up the River Medway from Queenborough to Upnor. It was a calm start with just enough puff to fill main and Genoa. We crept slowly away from our buoy, gradually slanting across tide towards the shallows.

Soon after beginning to reach up Saltpan, a rapid increase in the wind strength persuaded me to change headsails: short tacking was going to be the order, with my proposed plan.

Entering Stangate Creek, a couple of tacks were needed to reach Sharfleet Creek. On the way I gazed upon two abandoned GRP boats languishing along the east bank of Tailness. One was abandoned after a grounding then sinking after firing off the saltings edge, the other is clearly a ‘break away’.

My belief is that these craft should be removed by the harbour authority before they become a hazard or begin to break up: the GRP content in sea water is something scientists are currently worried about across the world (see my post on the USA solution..).

Entering Sharfleet we got round in the natural tacks allowed by the wind.

We have not been into Sharfleet for two years and I was flabbergasted by the break up of the tounge of saltings running out south that was once part of Burntwick Island. Marsh loss has been huge judging by the remains island’s size – there were many visible tidal cuts into the soft clay.

A cruiser motored through the tide scoured channel that appeared a decade or so ago: perhaps it could become the main run of Sharfleet in time as what is left is rapidly being eaten away!

We tacked round the banana curve of the invisible western end of Sharfleet west of Slayhills Marsh using echo sounder and satnav before crossing the ‘Upchurch Saltings’ (mudflats now) into Half Acre Creek.

Upon Slayhills Marsh, a large vessel has been washed up. I know nothing about it, but will endeavour to find out! She sits at an angle of early forty-five degrees and is so far in she is very likely to be in her final berth.

The breeze was too strong to allow any saline scented wafts from the sea drenched saltings to reach us and boat speed was varying between 3.5 to 5 knots. My memory placed those senses for me though…

Way out in the main river, several largish yachts were motoring upstream (Why?) with the tide. One of these was astern of us as we later swept into the juncture of Pinup and Gillingham reaches!

It was a rapid beat southward to the Otterham Creek buoy which also marks the juncture with Bartley Creek and the South Yantlet. Our course was along the former towards Horrid Hill, on an isthmus running north out of the shore – all now a designated country park.

Passing Motney Hill first, I looked into the old dock on the end of this tail of land to the west of Otterham Creek. It’s an old brick and cement dock, still in a remarkably good condition. Motney is home to a huge sewage treatment works and it’s ping wafted over us!

As we reached up Bartlett, I gazed back at the spire of Upchurch Church, where my mother designed a millennium window. The building’s body was shrouded by trees.

Over to the north of us we were passing by the tide soaked saltings of Nor Marsh Island which once boasted a farmstead and hundreds of sheep. More GRP craft could be seen washed ashore…

A short tack was needed into Rainham Creek which runs to a boatyard at Marina’s Farm, a place used for winter layup locally. Horrid Hill was passed with its strategically placed ‘lovers’ benches shielded from each other by natural scrub.

Horrid Hill for many years was home to a cement making complex, it’s old wharves and building debris remain.

The scrub wilderness seems to suit Horrid Hill – a horrid name, for sure for it is a habitat for bird life etc.

Our inside route passage rapidly came to an end as we shot past a red buoy marking the channel across an old causeway, across the mud flats bordering the south side of Pinup Reach.

And, we left the beacon close to port for a clear reach past Hoo Ness at the western end of Hoo Island. We caught up with and overtook one of the ‘dawdling’ yachts motoring home. Another remained astern of us, not pass until we’d picked up a buoy under Upnor Castle.

Wind over tide choppiness was avoided and, yes, it was fun for sure.

It is not likely that I’ll have the opportunity to do it again for a while, or, as I wryly said to the mate, ‘if ever…’

P.S. this passage has been written about in various of my books – ‘Salt Marsh & Mud…’ is one.

It has been a very long time since we last had a night’s stop-over in Lower Halstow Dock, back to before Edith May’s days.

I’d contacted Geoffrey Gransden to clear our visit: the Edith May was away sailing up the East Ciast.

As we came abreast of the chosen mooring position astern if the TSBs Ardwina and Tollesbury, I rounded to fall back onto the wall – a touch of engine was needed, unfortunately…

After mooring, stowing sail and a coffee we were off on a gentle walk around the boundaries of L. Halstow and Upchurch. This is the land of my youth – from 1966.

We traversed the well worn path around the top of Glass Bottle Beach where rocks have been placed along the top to waylay coastal erosion – the problem is that the land is made from landfill and is ‘soft’ – easy pickings for the sea!

We passed by the stem and stern posts of the brickie barge Surrey poking above the tide. She was abandoned on the beach in late 1930s. Along from her sits the remains of Nile Wharf – used in bygone days by a farmer in the main.

Along the outside of the sea wall golden banks of samphire and it’s edible cousin glasswort, lower down closer to the mud line, grew in profusion.

On the inside of the wall immediately after leaving the old brickwork boundary is low land, wet with reeds growing thickly. This is the dammed off grad of Twinney Creek and marks the parish boundary here. Closer to Lower Halstow’s Dock than many appreciate.

The dock served a brickworks on the seaward edge of Upchurch and a myriad of tramlines interconnected, Dock, works and brick earth sites…

Across the saltings, belonging to Twinney, sits Twinney Dock. This was the home for the May Flower chosen by my parents chose after Whitewall Creek was left behind.

The family with the owners of the Henry resurrected the dock. The dock and land was bought over the heads of my parents by our joint tenants, thus we became, unknowingly the Henry’s tenant. My father ‘went ballistic’ on getting the quarterly rent demand…

Allotment style gardens were situated in a top corner above the ‘salt line’ – it is just grass now. The dock was purchased by current owner from those (that) owner and much gas been done to maintain a flush system, although cord grass threatens to choke the creek’s passage.

Apparently, a wedding venue is being established … stabling is already well bedded in.

My parents took a lease on Callows Wharf – long defunct but bits were still visible – where the barge was better able to come and go. A huge amount of work was needed, all family done, to make it ‘home’. That wharf too remains in use in amongst banks of cord grass towards the head of Milfordhope Creek.

The ordnance survey map showed a path running close to the dock access lane – we used the lane! It took us to Susan’s Lane where a short walk took us to a farm house (now not a farm house) and a row of cottages – Susan’s Cottages.

Turning into a field we were soon ‘lost’ for no way ahead seemed possible. Banks if nettle and thistle seemed to block the way until an oblique sort of passage was seen. It lead to a buried kissing gate (we had a kiss!).

After the kissing fate, the Lower Halstow road should have been easily accessible, however, barbed wire enclosures for ponies lay in front of us like a chequerboard.

We made our own way out, meeting a loud speaking (into a phone) young chap who wanted to know what we were about!

Trying to follow the path, we both said…

Barbed wire everywhere – Ah, sorry, he said, adding, I’ll fix that.

Yeh, sure you will!

We made it to the road by the old Methodist Chapel…

Up on the low hill sits Lower Halstow old village where hundreds and thousands of bricks were made, fired and sailed to London to be used in the late Victorian building boom.

On the green, and along the manicured roads within the old brick field, sits a clinkered clump of overcooked bricks.

Following the stream leading to the dock I was again wandering down memory lane…

Reaching the creek we found the tide had gone. Whimbrel was leaning nicely against the wall, so thoughtfully renovated by the parish council. Twenty years ago it was far from comfortable: posts were old spars and shuttering bits of barge planking, leeboards and rudders!

Back aboard Whimbrel I looked overboard and a weed infested sight net my eyes!

Once in the creek bed, a goodly crop of barnacles met my eyes too.

I set too, scraping and scrubbing.

The better part of Whimbrel’s starboard side was reached as well as the port side aft quarter and fore end – the Mate can do the rest another day!

After our evening meal, a glass at the Three Tubs beckoned…

Yes, it was a very pleasant interlude in our touring around. So interesting to see the changes at close hand, and too, to enjoy the rather lovely peaceful countryside around the watery edges of these two parishes…

The next morning, with just a favourable slant we sailed off the wharf and beat away from the dock…

Due to our move to a new mooring area, we did not sail into Faversham last year. Future visits are highly likely to be less frequent than we have enjoyed in the past.

So, it was with seemingly fresh eyes that we entered the creek a couple of days ago, managing to largely lazily sail up with the tide.

We were struck by the additional craft that have been abandoned on the banks with a sunken yacht just below Oare Creek. And too, by the renewed beauty of the saltings we sailed past: our eyes were just above the heavily sea lavender scented sight-line…

On the approach to Iron Wharf, the town’s high steepled church proudly mimics the lofty top masts and cocky sprits of the cluster of sailing barges berthed there.

We (I) had fitted a new galley pump the week before: it leaked out of its bottom seal and pump spindle. Great.
After removal and inspection, I decided to seal the base gasket with sealant. The leaking spindle was sorted by hardening up the o-seal gland. Probably, it is now overtightened!

I had called Mark the proprietor at Faversham Chandlery and to my delight he had a pump in stock – a Whale Flipper. So at least I have a spare: a ‘bodge’ is unlikely to last.

And yes, I shall be writing to the manufacturers…

When preparing to set off from our home berth two weeks ago, I spotted a tare in the leach of our Genoa. I gave it a fix using a bit of sail bag label … Cindy – Wilkinsons Sails in Faversham offered to give it a proper repair if we visited, which was in our plans.

I got the sail into sailmaker post lunch hour and it was returned to the boat after work by Alan Johnson.

So, a heartfelt thank you to both Faversham businesses!

We had come into Faversham for a booked prolonged visit because a day was set aside for an event in London at St Katharine Docks with the Sea-change Sailing Trust. But that is another story…

The stay also coincided with need of a washing machine – two of which are billeted in the Iron Wharf’s revamped shower and toilet facilities.

Some old friends have departed the yard or met their maker during past two seasons. Other craft have moved position – whether in line for breaking, I don’t know.

We had been tipped off after our arrival about a new waterside cafe at the outer corner of Iron Wharf by the old brick dock entrance.

However, I had spotted it as we came in – yes, we’ve visited and enjoyed decent coffee and cake! The building of the defunct Iron Wharf club has also been removed from where it forlornly sat for years, close by.

The place is called, Quints Retreat Cafe Diner. It has a quirkiness with interesting menu boards…

Enjoy!

Familiar or what!

The problem of unwanted craft around our UK moorings and boatyards along with discarded and abandoned vessels along creeks and riverbanks has been an increasingly sticky problem.

It is something our European cousins have cottoned onto too. A figure placed on such craft sits at around a million vessels. Of what minimum size, I can’t recall.

So, when I spotted in a Marine Industry News article a couple of weeks back that there was just such a problem around the waterways and lakes of the USA, I smiled. Let’s face it, why should it be anything different?

Apparently the problem has rocketed with numbers of craft being left to fend for themselves until they founder or break moorings and settle into a river bank.

The problem has reached such proportions that it has become noticeable. A solution is being sought. The American Boat Owners Association have received central funding for grant applications to make a start on dealing with the problem. A systematic removal is planned.

See: https://marineindustrynews.co.uk/boatus-foundation-opens-7-5m-funding-to-remove-derelict-vessels/

Now, in the UK we have the British Marine Federation – a builder/yard/marina ‘set’ looking after their interests. We also have the ‘use-less’ Royal Yachting Association, which seems interested in racing and gold medals than the interest of cruising and casual sailors.

As many will know, I cancelled my forty-five year membership over the RYA’s ‘disconnect’ from the Calor Gas problem.

However, they represent, in theory, the user group – US! What have they done? As far as I know, Nothing.

It is a subject I have harped on about for a very long time, long before I saw anything else in the media. See:

Ditch-crawler applauds action to find homes for old boats…

Wherever one walks along the shores of Essex and Kent the saltings rim is often the graveyard for an old thing that has drifted up on the tide.

In the past it was generally acceptable to let an old wooden vessel die on a river bank or patch of saltings where it would eventually rejoin the environment from which it came. Now it is not.

Since moving to The Blackwater Marina, which is a traditional yard as well, I have noted a number of vessels being broken up. During the spring an old MFV-type’ was placed in a floating dock and dismantled. Much was burnt, but some had to go to landfill. Other bits – outfit materials – were dismantled and went away somewhere…

Another similar vessel in a parlous state which was towed round from the West Mersea houseboat moorings awaits cutting up. Sadly, much of the hull timber was in a relatively good condition, however, talking to one of the dismantling crew, he pointed out where poor maintenance led up to its fate – a far too common story!

Currently an old steel tank barge briefly a failed houseboat project is being cut up.

In the yard there are craft fit only for disposal, in the moorings too … however, as yard managers have aft told me, ‘if the bills are being paid…’

It is a problem.

It is a problem that has to be dealt with!

In that, the ‘solution’ being worked in the USA may lead to government funding to assist in disposal for it is not cheap. It is that or local authorities and yards need the legal teeth to go after an owner, or if one cannot be found to apply for a grant to legally dismantle such vessels.

At the end of the day, an end of life plan must evolve: plastic (GRP) cannot rot or be burnt as wood can or steel recycled.

Food for thought.

Whilst in Scotland during May and early June, Christobel bought me a book she found in Fort Augusta about Scottish boat types. I wasn’t too sure, but looked interesting with a cursory flick through – ‘I am glad I said yes please…’

The author Ian Stephen has had a long association with Scottish craft, being brought up with them and has continued to sail them, as well as his own family cruiser based in the Western Isles.

Ian weaves into the boat types stories behind them and associated folk lore. It reminded me, in a way, to ‘The Salty Shore by John Leather.’ However, it is rather different!

The book covers all types of craft up to the size of the Scottish Light Tenders (with their associated work boats) and the Clyde Puffers – of which two examples currently live on the River Medway.

In a section about the craft from the likes of Watson, Mylne and Fife, there is a passage that rang in my heart: I have said the same thing!

About the King’s Britannia he talks of the revival of the big class yachts, J’s and such and says: ‘What if Britannia had been handed to a charitable trust instead of being stripped and deliberately sunk? What is committed teachers had worked with young people of deprived parts of cities, say Plymouth, Swansea, Belfast and Glasgow? He continues by asking the what if about these youngsters racing against the millionaires’s rebuilt boats…

Yes, well.

The same could be asked of Everard when they deliberately broke up two good sailing barges in 1963.

Thank goodness we now have organisations like the Sea Change Sailing Trust with their new spritsail barge Blue Mermaid…

While staying in Tarbert, Aygyll, I spotted a traditional open fishing skiff. She’s a Loch Fyne Skiff built during the last decade by a local boat builder, A & R Way, who involved local students in her build. Her hull and rig, a raked single mast with a standing lug, defines her type.

The author also discusses repurposing designs for a modern use – largely in rowing. All round the UK and many places abroad, the rowing of skiffs and traditional west country gigs has become hugely popular.

Many of the Scottish small beach launched craft used pebbles as ballast, however, in the modern rowing usage, the ballast is the people. and I am sure a ‘rower’will tell you that weight distribution makes a huge difference.

Some types have been recreated, and the author questions why. He says in chapter 3: ‘The purpose of Wee Hector, built by Mark Stockl (then with Ullapool Boatbuilders) was not clear. A role in the encouragement of tourism was one of the funding criteria. But there seemed no practical plan for fulfilling this.’

I was reminded of the Leigh-on-Sea Endeavour project – the rebuild of a typical mid 20th century cockle boat. She does very little apart from attending ‘flag’ events. Her rebuild funding criteria included taking youngsters afloat. Little if any of this is done for varying reasons – safety limitations, as far as I know, is one.

Another type covered was the Plockton racing dinghies. I’d come across these at Plockton while sailing aboard the Gaff Ketch Eda Fransden some eight years ago now. Several were listed over on the shore and their lines were interesting along with a deepish keel shallowing like working craft towards the bow. The rigs are tall, nothing at lal similar to a working boat where sail area was kept deliberately low aspect to help with sailing in often far from perfect conditions.

Many a Scots builder’s outputs can be found in our east coast waters – the Miller’s, the Zulu’s and east coast two masted lug rigged boats. Sometimes, the mouldering remains can be seen too.

My one gripe: the author often discusses at length a certain type with its rig set up but doesn’t include a picture… the book is scattered with little line drawings and sketches of craft, but I was often left wondering…

That said, I found the book very interesting and full of knowledge. I enjoyed it immensely and feel I have been educated into the bargain…

The book: Boatlines, Scottish Craft of Sea, Coast and Canal, by Ian Stephen, published by Birlinn, Edinburgh, 2023. £16.99.

The Mate and I have been on a two week heist to the West Coast of Scotland with a Northumbrian stop-over on our way home.

We have had two sessions in the western isles waters aboard the fifty-foot gaff cutter Eda Fransden (One is told about in my recent book: Sailing through life…)

After a distance break in Carlisle, Glasgow was visited for the opportunity to visit the Burrell Collection. Brilliant! From there we were booked to stay with my cousin and his wife in Tarbert, Argyll.

Onwards to Tarbert…

In Tarbert harbour was a small local traditional fishing skiff, rigged with a lug sail – whether dipping or not I couldn’t tell. According to my cousin, the boat does get used and isn’t just for show!

Although the marina looked to be stuffed full of plastic, it wasn’t, and some, as it turned out was classic!

Our visit coincided with the Clyde Series Whitsun Bank Holiday Weekend Regatta. Wow, I was suitably impressed by the time we departed…

Driving up towards our weekend abode, I spotted this 8 m tacking slowly home after the first day’s racing (Friday). It was clear she had a wooden hull.

Later during our stay, I spotted a modern ‘8’ with a Swiss sail number.

There was another wow too: we spotted what looked like miniature yachts heading into the harbour. It turned out that they were self propelled marker buoys and have been in use in ‘international’ regattas for some time.

They are battery powered with two motor driven propellers. They are capable of keeping station and, in the need, to be ‘motored’ to a new position by a controller.

The insertion of a gps position, they will head for home. See one type found online:

https://www.autoevolution.com/news/robotic-self-propelling-buoy-aims-to-simplify-sailboat-race-management-it-s-gps-powered-185832.html

I had been ‘promised’ a sail aboard my cousin’s boat – a big Beneteau of some 35′ in length. Sunday was the day deemed best (it wasn’t in the end, but a good choice!). A walk and a visit to Crinan at the northern entrance to the Crinan Canal was made.

In the canal basin was another Clyde Puffer, VIC 32, dating from 1943. It is privately owned and operated. Close by a sleek motor boat sat with drooping ensign and burgee. Passing it, Christobel spotted that the burgee was familiar. The West Mersea YC!

We had a bit of a chat. The boat had been trucked up to the Clyde and the couple were on a complete summer cruising around. My cousin gave some advice about anchorages…

In a neat cafe sitting beside the basin I spotted a range of engines on display – all ready to go…

They were all in fact agricultural engines made by Lister, so could have been used afloat!

So, to the brilliant bit. We went sailing on the Clyde!

Clearing the marina we set off down course to meet the craft as they returned. At a point near an island with the Sgat Mor Lighthouse we turned for home. It wasn’t long before the rain really set in – my mate was bravely keeping her chin up, or well covered!

Apart from some winch work when tacking there wasn’t a lot of cockpit activity…

Closing the finish line, the sun tried to reappear as the rain ceased and with it a calm, which was bewitching to the tail-enders struggling to finish.

A wooden Mc Gruer 28, of which only eight were built, owned by offspring of my cousin’s neighbours (they having passed her on) was one of these. She’d been timed out in a previous race and had felt aggrieved! They did finish in time…

As we went ashore after tidying and stowing gear, as one does, the race markers were collecting at a pontoon. Fascinating, but effective.

For details of a similar type:

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/YPMnx19jXkN1vWEz/?mibextid=UalRPS

Sadly we had to leave Tarbert to continue our excursions around the coast. Next stop was Ardfern, a lovely little place with a delightful friendly marina. Littered along the loch were patches of swinging moorings.

At the marina, I was hoping to spot a Finesse 21 motorised open boat, called Stravaig. This boat had come from Milfordhaven in Wales after having been sailed as an open boat. Why, is not known. Then, she was called Arab – told about in my book, The Jottings of a Thames Estuary Ditch-crawler.

The boat was exceedingly well fitted out. I was though very surprised that a cover wasn’t fitted.

While continuing my travels, my cousin sent me a post seen locally of a Corish lugger sailing into Tarbert’s harbour. The boat was built in 1881…

See post picture for details. Amazing.

Nearing the end of our journeyings and in Northumbria, we ended up in Amble. Driving towards the town, I spotted masts and was reminded of a little sailing club – The Coquet SC – where a Finesse 24 used to be based.

Contact had been lost. I wondered, indicated and pulled in!

The sight that I spotted as we parked up nearly brought tears to my eyes for a boat that a previous owner had cherished and cossetted was a mess.

The boat was originally called Emma & Kate. She has teak laid decks and has a fit out above spec. She was built as a gaff cutter and her spars with loose peeling varnish sat beneath the boat.

The cockpit has been left uncovered and most of the varnish had failed…

I obtained some details but said would try and contact the club’s secretary again. I left with a feeling of sadness.

It was a fascinating tour with oh so many boats on a ‘No Boats’ holiday!

Some while ago now I serviced the four lifejackets carried aboard Whimbrel and renewed our lifebelt. These jobs are just part of the well trodden list of ‘must do’ things all boaters enjoy!

Ditch-crawler preparing for the new season…

But, do all boaters do these ‘simple’ checks?
When the RNLI is called out so often to people crewing vessels with shortcomings, one has to wonder.

We can all end up needing assistance for one reason or another but…

Some while back I had carried out my biannual servicing of the engine oil and fuel system filters. The fuel system has never showed water in it and I went to a two yearly cycle many years ago. The engine is not overly used but it is operated regularly throughout the year, never sitting static for too long.

Recently, after washing the lifelines, I spotted that the ‘D’ ring turn over stitching’s had degraded, being degraded completely in part. All four ends were completely restitched.

I have been checking the Imray web site chart correction pages for a while, awaiting the correction lists fired out each spring. Been slow in coming this year, I thought.

So, today, I was pleased to find them available. It has been muted that the age of the paper chart is closing out – oh heck. Everyone has a chart plotter or similar, it is said. Do they? I have a GOS Map, but I wouldn’t call it my main means to navigate.

The boat’s charts have now been updated…

A change that has popped up is the movement east of the Raysand Swatch buoys. Now, the last time I crossed two season’s ago, I marked up the chart with where I could see there was more water: I had arrived early on the northern side having come from West Mersea and watched the tide come over. The flow was well to the east of the buoys – probably only around 300-400mm, but that can make all the difference!

Nothing to do with safety, really, but the jib and main halyards were run out at the weekend and given several runs around the inside of our washing machine. Does them the world of good, dissolving salt and releasing airborne verdigris.

I shall probably run out the topping lift and spinnaker lines too…

Not to be outdone, the dinghy which was given a good refit in the autumn, had her bottom rubbed down and freshly antifouled. I use a soft ablating paint for one doesn’t want unnecessary build up.

Apart from completing our build up of general stores loaded aboard for the summer, we are ready for the off!

Good summer sailing to all my friends and others…

‘So…’ my good mate began to say, adding, ‘what are you going to do when I’m in London on Wednesday?’

And without pausing, grinning wickedly, added, ‘why don’t you have a night down river with your mistress…’

Having recovered from a blush: I’ve never ever had ‘the enjoyment of a mistress’ I wasn’t sure the mate was serious!

She has, however, amongst her many girl friends, oft referred to Whimbrel as my mistress, so perhaps that was her tack…

The boat has many similar virtues, for sure, others it couldn’t provide, but one thing a boat can’t do is argue!

So, on the Tuesday of this last week, I gathered up all I needed and hightailed to the boat at Maylandsea’s finely situated marina. A few jobs were done before the tide neared and it was time to get the sails and such ready.

As the tide comes up Lawling Creek – although there is always a little water in the rill – duck, geese and a myriad of waders begin a frenetic gleaning, sieving the mud before it covers.

In Lawling Creek there has been a myriad of bird life all winter and into the spring. There are still numerous over-wintering Brent geese, but I haven’t yet seen any terns – late?

It was an easy sail down river and I just about reached the Nass before the turn of the tide. I stowed the main in clear water and sailed under the working jib towards the quarters channels, looking for the entrance to Mersea Fleet.

I spotted the line of buoys, then the perches marking the outer channel came into view. These withies have been marking the entrance here for around three years now: the channel has been threatening to close off – a result, I believe, of the beach recharge/regeneration of both Cobmarsh Island and Packing Marsh island.

Still no terns, I noticed. Normally by this time of the year they will be seen sitting atop various buoys, withies or anything else suitable.

Once inside, I chose a clear patch to amble forward and douse the jib before puttering to one of the many vacant moorings.

Looking closely at Packing Marsh Island, it is hard to believe that its time with us is that great. The beach recharge appears to have been attacked since done and it seems as if it is as it was a few years before hand.

I enjoyed a fine supper of fresh cheese topped bread, sausage with a onions with baby tomatoes… I washed it down with a bottle of ale!

Not long after sunset, the forward bunk was calling, so after washing up, a coffee and some chocolate found in my stores (stowed by my dear mate), I hit the hay!

The night was punctuated by what sounded like a raucous party on Packing Marsh Island. It wasn’t a bunch of ravers but a cacophony of gulls – the big variety – deciding that from time to time they would let humans know about them!

I awoke to a calm. Well, almost: there was a gentle east-southeasterly which barely ruffled the reflective surface of the ebbing tide.

The peaceful slightly high cloud morning soon developed into a glorious day.

Not needing the jib, I stowed it before setting about stitching up the ends to our deck lifelines. The stitching was degraded … I got one done and fitted before leaving. The other is being done back home!

In the glorious conditions I sailed off the mooring, gybjng round to head out, serenaded by the squawks of the hull population. I grinned for I’d had to clean the cabin top after a full decided to land earlier and use Whimbrel as a latrine…

Clearing Mersea Fleet I tacked out of the Quarters to round the Nass – a rite of passage and for a New Zealand friend – before heading for Sales Point on the Bradwell shore.

Closing the shore a ‘school’ boat crowded with outward bounders tacked across Whimbrel’s bow, forcing me to come round too – the person in charge, forward, lifted a hand saying something to the helm. Bad teaching was my view! Still they were out on the water enjoying themselves!

Shortly after, the ‘men in black’ roared alongside … the marine police! The conversation ran along these lines…

‘Where have you come from?’

‘Where are you going?’

Answering both, ‘West Mersea to Lawling Creek…’

‘Then…’

‘Home’ I said!

‘Oh, last of ebb out and flood in…’ the speaker said.

I looked at him and just said, ‘Yes…’

They left after saying ‘enjoy…’

Sorry, but neither I or the Mate have one iota of respect for our constabulary after the way they treated us during the Covid pandemic after we were threatened by an Essex sailor who touted the law. It was poorly dealt with. They are a waste of space…

Outside Bradwell Creek the Curran Trust’s Queen Galadriel was sitting serenely to her anchor. She did look a picture.

The tide was on the turn and Whimbrel’s speed increased accordingly and the distance to Stansgate Point was eaten away.

Passing the Marconi Sailing Club there were two yachts in launching trollers ready to go in. Ashore there were dozens awaiting a turn!

Sailing into Lawling Creek, I dumped the Genoa and reached inwards. As the boat scuffed the bottom, I rounded to stow sail and felt my way to a vacant mooring to await sufficient tide.

There were the usual seals basking in the mud with others in search of food in the water, crested grebe, duck, Brent’s and a myriad of waders to look at as I sat in the sunshine with my lunch.

The wait didn’t last long. We soon learnt at weary stage tge tide was sufficient to gain our berth. I slipped in after a momentary stoppage all ready to depart home to my mate upon mooring up: I’d missed her…

This was my first overnight sail of the year away from our new base – a new experience, but one I enjoyed very much. The ‘missing’ mate was a downer, but, hey, I’d had my mistress…

Something in a Marine Industry News bulletin came to my attention recently; Spirit Yachts of Ipswich are building a new ‘mini’ J Class.

The class was known as the Q Class. These were an American designed yacht specifically used as club racing and as a test bed for the J Class yachts and their crews.

With money to build these from around 1900 through to the nearness of WW2, it is easy to see how the Americans remained holders of the cup for so long. They were thorough beyond anything done in Britain!

Apparently there are a few of the class which eventually numbered around sixteen still sailing. Another, currently in a rebuild, is due for completion in 2026.

See:

https://marineindustrynews.co.uk/spirit-yachts-q-class/?utm_source=Marine+Industry+News&utm_campaign=53c284e856-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2024_04_08_11_14&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_-53c284e856-%5BLIST_EMAIL_ID%5D

The new vessel’s design is complete and the new build is due to start around now. Those that berth in the Ipswich Wet Dock may well be lucky enough to see her in a year.

Be great to joust on the river with her!

P.S. the crew of a ‘big’ Spirit all gazed and waved at us last year…

These days, with the America’s Cup, all teams have an exhaustive series of matches and then there are the preliminary race series leading to a contender… A far cry from ‘dragging’ a crew from yachts and fishing boats to man those giants.

The story of how we decided to purchase a new build Finesse 24 is told about in Chapter 2 of my book, ‘The Jottings of a Thames Estuary Ditch-crawler’ published by Amberley Publishing, 2011. It remains in print and available.

The story also wraps up the history of the Finesse classes after Alan Platt (and Shirley) graciously agreed to sit and talk to me about how it all began. It was and remains a fascinating tale.

My Mate’s seal of approval upon a first visit to the yard can be put in a nutshell: ‘Yes…’ after we had toured a couple of craft chocked up around the yard in its woodland setting in Daws Heath, Essex.

The boat had all the parameters that had been discussed, apart from: a walk round bed (nearly), a deep bath, a washing machine and a power shower… Of course, these were all a joke!

I had explained to Alan and Shirley that I was on the point of selling our Yachting World Peoples Boat and would contact as soon as sold. I was also due back to sea – in the latter point, I was sent to a ship that disappeared off to the Caribbean for the whole time the boat was being built!

I seem to remember we lost a sale and then one Sunday lunch time received a call from a chap to say he wanted the boat. After a visit, a price was agreed. Within a week we were boat-less!

Alan and Shirley were delighted with our news of the sale and our definite order…

Along with the order confirmation was a comment from Shirley offering to pick Christobel up from Hadleigh – she had to get a bus from our then home on Canvey Island (where she was a school teacher) and we did not at the time have a car. Our boy was buggy-bound… It was an offer that has had an enduring appreciation.

A build/sail number was given to us and we gave over the boat’s future name, Whimbrel, and colour scheme, which has remained unchanged from her build 41 years ago. A whimbrel is a northern curlew. It is smaller than the one generally seen with a slightly shorter bill. During some winters they can be seen well south of their normal breeding areas up along the north coast of England and Scotland.

A list of pre-build extras was agreed and with A F Platt Ltd and the final build total. It was a tad more than our then house had been in 1977/8!

Of greatest importance to me was engine power: I had worked out using an equation from one of my engineering/ship design books that the single cylinder Yanmar being offered was at full whack to get to design hull speed. Diesels need to work hard, but!

We took out a Lombard Marine Mortgage for just over 60% of the boat price. I soon after gained a promotion and we paid it off within three years…

One of the things Christobel never really got her head round were the stage payments which she had to sign for.

She wrote to me that the keel had been laid and had to witness before signing. She said ‘There was a piece of wood on the floor with sticks at each end…’ Bless!

At the time Christobel had an old camera – this was before the advent of digital or camera phones – so the quality was a little poor, but she did her best.

Our photo files has the build under ‘1984’ but most are from the autumn/winter of 1983: the boat was finished by the end of February 1984.

The paperwork arrived in ‘telling’us of completed stages quickly followed by the invoices.

I have copied all the keel ones, but just the invoices of following stages. The bald simplicity states the case: ‘Payment due when keel is laid…’

The next was a big jump: ‘Payment due on completion of planking…’ Thgis must have been completed before Christmas for much structure was in by my Mate’s inspection visit.

At this point the boat’s hull was our Whimbrel!

After planking up and fitting the ribs, beam shelf, deck beams, carlings and the longitudinals for the cabin sides, Christobel visited and took a few pictures… It wouldn’t be long before the cabin sides were fitted with its associated coach roof beams, but we do not have a record of this.

The next payment came close towards the end, just a month before the delivery/launch date. This was for installation of the engine: surely the structural and finishing work must have been completed below and in cockpit by then.

I arrived home from the ship I was on just a week or so before the boat was contracted to be launched, although Alan Platt was flexible with this in consideration to my job! Alan had spent his National Service years with the Royal Logistic Corp – afloat…

Launch Day was approaching very quickly, barely giving me time to get reacquainted with ‘home life’ and to get essentials aboard the new boat.

I found the boat outside the build shop with its mast up on the boat, lashed, ready for the launching. I had a good look around, stowed warps and fenders in the cockpit lockers and left the yard with a glow inside: this beautiful creation would be under our protection soon.

Strangely, I have no pictures, but this was before the advent of digital cameras, let alone iPhones. I had a good Pentax at the time so am nonplussed as to why not!!

Various family members came for the launching plus some family friends as we had a bit of a party afterwards.

My sister who had a car acted as taxi to all. My youngest brother and his then girl friend were given the pleasure (honour) of being Whimbrel’s first crew.

The boat arrived on a trailer behind Alan’s landrover. It was bit by bit jacked off the trailer and left on low chocks. The tide was around the boat by the time the mast went up.

After the boat floated, I boarded and went off for a ‘delivery spin’ with Alan and another. Upon returning to the hard, Alan formally handed Whimbrel over, and that was that!

A bottle of fizz appeared and it was ceremoniously poured over the ship’s head, then my youngest brother and his then girlfriend boarded for passage to our berth in Smallgains Creek.

Going into our berth, I vaguely remember bumping the boat – no damage ensued. It was the first time in and first bump!

My leave period wasn’t long so we were soon off using Whimbrel as oft we could. Christobel was not teaching at the time and the boy not anywhere near school age – we were free.

Not long after her launch, Whimbrel was photographed by an owner of a Trident 24. A GRP boat with very close looks to a Finesse 24 – squatter and less roomy. The crew came alongside us at Queenborough and asked to come aboard – one asked, strangely, why the ribs weren’t fastened with grip fast nails! I have never forgotten his question. His experience ran to the Eventide type…

So, moving on forty years we gave the boat a bit of a refit during May and June 2023, just short of the fortieth anniversary of our ordering Whimbrel.

See: https://nickardley.com/ditch-crawler-mate-give-whimbrel-a-fortieth-anniversary-refit/

The boat was out of the water exactly four calendar weeks. Upon relaunching we sailed directly for the River Medway for a couple of days away.

We are no longer berthed on the Lower Thames – after trouble at the Island YC which resurfaced after we had been bullied a few seasons before, we left. The boat is now kept at The Blackwater Marina – a pleasant, friendly welcoming place, a place oft visited since the old yard became a marina in the early 1990s.

Whimbrel came out recently due to a propeller key failure. It was soon fixed. The hull coating was repaired as needed, antifouling done and hull varnish work sanded back and given two coats.

More recently, Christobel cleaned through, inside, while I sanded the cabin sides and varnished, outside.

The underside of the galley area deck and varnish work was recoated too. So, we are ready for the Whimbrel’s fifth decade…

Below, she looks as good as new.

In her forty-first year…

Whimbrel is ready for a shakedown trip of a couple of nights: the cries of curlews amongst the saltings in Pyefleet are calling…

A sailing friend, Paul Mullings, and supporter of my books in far off New Zealand, Auckland, to be precise, on the North Island, where he has lived a contented life with his wife for many years.

Paul hailed from Leigh-on-Sea in Essex, England and has always been a friend of the sea and its coastal waters. He has sailed the east coast of England (Thames estuary) and waters around his home, taking in the many inland lakes too. He currently has a trailable Farr.

Paul posted a raft of pictures on his facebook page covering a visit to the Auckland Maritime Museum.

See: https://www.maritimemuseum.co.nz/

I was struck by the way the museum has mixed static vessels on display as well as a selection that are available to ‘go out on’ and participate in their on board operations.

Now that is something I have not heard of before. In the UK, we have a variety of maritime museums, from the National Maritime Museum (NMM) at Greenwich where a host of antiquities are cared for as well as a few small vessels, to the Maritime Museum of Cornwall which host various craft (none available to take visitors afloat). The NMM has an off-shoot at the Chatham Docks Museum where ship models are displayed.

There are heritage Harbours, but none offer what the Auckland museum has got its head round – a lesson perhaps?

Included within the museum complex is a boat shed built in 1922 by Percy Voss and it is maintained in use for wooden boat building and repair. Is there another lesson here for the rather staid museums in the UK?

Learn more: https://www.maritimemuseum.co.nz/percy-vos-a-history-of-aucklands-oldest-surviving-wooden-boat-shed-and-slipway

In the views above and below, there is a sailing vessel described as a brigantine once used for inter-island trading. She is the Breeze, a modern build of the type and takes people afloat.

See: https://www.maritimemuseum.co.nz/sailings/breeze

Another vessel which was a trader is the scow Ted Ashby. These vessels did much as the ubiquitous Thames spritsail barge once did and traded the coastal routes and went inland up tidal rivers. Some of these vessels were huge three-masters and traded afar.

I wrote a blog about some NZ old timers years ago – it can be found on the ‘old blog’ page, just down the string. See: https://nickardley.com/old/

See information about the scow:

https://www.maritimemuseum.co.nz/sailings/ted-ashby

Below is a ‘native’ vessel and she looks as if she is ready to depart…

An interesting motor vessel caught my eye. She is the Nautilus, a motor vessel in 1913 in New Zealand. She with another motor boat went aboard a NZ Hospital ship and the boats were used as tenders around Gallipoli – a place synonymous with the people of New Zealand and Australia: many of their forces were lost there.

She also is available for trips around the harbour.

See: https://www.maritimemuseum.co.nz/sailings/nautilus

In a covered hall are various small craft.

I don’t know much about many of the exhibits for they’re not specifically mentioned within the web site pages.

I am left thinking that I’d love to see these for myself, but it is something very unlikely … so thank you Paul!

I posed a couple of questions. In defence:

UK maritime heritage sites often have open days for vessels under repair, or viewing platforms are erected for ‘Joe Public’ to witness from a safe position works in progress, but what we do not do is have museums carrying out ‘harbour trips’ on historic craft.

Yes, one can hire a Thames sailing barge, say, for a weekend or go on a river trip for these vessels morphed into passenger vessels after trading in solids had ceased.

At Brightlingsea, there is an old smack dock but it tends to be inhabited by ‘old smacks’ closer to heaven than most vessels whilst their resurrected sisters are out in the harbour away from inter-personal contact. Are harbour trips part of the ‘deal’ – no. Its all look from a distance stuff…

So, this is not the same as a live museum where boat building, repair and boat exhibits sits alongside the ability to experience working aboard an ‘oldster’ oneself…

The Marine Industry News online news magazine has reported on serious troubles with Cornish Crabbers Ltd.

Without beating about the bush – they are broke and owe some £1M to creditors.

See:

Tough times for boatbuilder Cornish Crabbers

The article reports on possible reasons for the problems encountered by the boat builder – largely around the fact that there are a huge number of craft sitting around for sale of the ‘up to 8m range…’ and we all, those who follow such stuff, have seen this around the bazaars.

In the Finesse wooden clinker boat market, the prices being offered for what can be a perfectly fit craft is a kind of madness, but, sadly, a reflection on the overcrowded market of smaller craft. This has affected the whole sector.

I remember the ‘coming’ of the original Cornish Crabber 24 gaff rigged cutter. I went on board one – it was so cramped even against the Yachting World Peoples Boat we had at the time (we were looking to change boats…)

The old version is ostensibly the same length – alongside each other the boats are significantly different in length (ignoring bowsprit) and boat volume.

I had a good look at the modern ’24’ some while ago and she can be found in the link. They are £120,000 sail away version without essential equipment. Open plan and ‘poky’ inside. Mad!

There is a Crabber 26 – more like the inside of a Finesse 24 in fit out with separate cabins. These sail away at a peck under £160,000 – more bloody madness. This is the problem…

See link for the range:

https://www.cornishcrabbers.co.uk/classic-series/crabber-24-mkv/

At my marina, as can be found around the yards and clubs up and down the coast, there are a number of small craft – the 18′ to 26′ range – that are sitting ‘neglected’ and seemingly unloved. They are all owned by mooring holders with ‘bills paid’ as I understand it, but no longer have owners who care enough…

The Marine Industry News article is interesting reading for at last, as far as I see it, someone is being bluntly honest.

A quote: An industry source posts that the current market is very tough for small boats. “No boats under eight metres are selling at the moment,” the source told MIN in confidence. “There are 100s of boats sitting on forecourts that aren’t selling. The market is really flat. Cornish Crabbers doesn’t generally make big boats. The volume of boats for sale under eight metres could be the problem.”

So, with this terrible news, the UK could well loose another boat builder who has specialised in the smaller boat market. The Little pocket cruiser, Cornish Shrimper, has bee a remarkable success story and they are great sailers. But, like most well built GRP vessels, they are long lived: still plenty of the early Crabber 24 cutters around.

The MIN said also: A different anonymous source told MIN: “There are too many crabbers out there, loved by many people, for the company to disappear completely. Look at its history, it always comes back from the brink. There are always people who want crabber…’

Yes, but are they opting to settle for an older model at a fraction of the new boat prices?

I spotted a little craft on the way up the River Blackwater last summer – a Yarmouth 23 gaff cutter. She looked far lighter than the Crabbers and could be taking some of the market. Seen a couple about…

The future: clear out the yards and marinas of defunct little ships and cut them up. Make a big hole in the market to enable production???

Seriously, the solution is complicated…

The last time Whimbrel came out of the water we suffered from exceedingly bad treatment from a large minority of Island Yacht Club members and we ended up leaving our club of forty years…

There was a little more to it than that: it rekindled the rancour following a complaint we’d made about a ‘RIB Bombing’ by an Island YC RIB, out of spite, following which the club and a protagonist – the RIB driver – were issued with Port of London Authority written warnings.

See: https://nickardley.com/island-yacht-club-forty-years-a-member-forced-out-ditch-crawler-reflects/

Last Tuesday, I went for a sail on my own. We’d both been out on the previous Saturday when I thought we’d hit something with the prop leaving the berth. All seemed well: we’d sailed away.

So, as the tide made, I began edging astern. The boat didn’t move! I went ahead. All well… I tried astern again, nothing. I then lifted the cockpit floor boards – the shaft was turning both ways normally…

I went astern again, nothing. Tried again, I was away… However, I wasn’t entirely happy.

Clear of moorings and sailing, although engaged, the prop shaft was spinning. I felt over the stern with the boat hook.

A ‘Clatter, clatter, clatter’ was heard and felt. Key, I thought…

The wind was in a good direction to sail back into the mooring under headsail, so thinking, ‘sooner than later’ dropped the main and scuttled back in, berthing nicely. I was pleased I’d sailed in on a number of occasions already!

The following day eschewing a walk, we both went over to the boat while the tide was out. I went overboard on a walking plank and discovered it was as thought. Clearly the key had failed!

A conversation with the yard’s manager, Beccs Polden, and it was quickly arranged for Whimbrel to be lifted the next day – I had two weeks…

The prop was soon off, then the yard pressure washed the boat’s bottom, which comes with a lift. As a mooring holder, yard time out of season is not invoiced, which is nice.

Remains of the key was soon removed from propeller and shaft. Fortunately I had a piece of bronze, long ago picked up in the gravel of a boatyard down on the Swale. Beccs gave me a telephone number for a local engineering firm (Millers and turners) – chap said come along…

Arriving at the works just a couple of miles away on the edge of Latchingdon, the owner/manager set to and milled up my chunk of bronze (reckoned to be phosphor bronze) and within less than an hour I had a new key that fitted snuggly into propeller keyway.

Joe Owen Machinists – 01621 740308

I was very grateful and had a long natter next day when taking in my payment… Chap had some interesting tales to tell of east coast traipsing.

Final word to me: ‘Keep sailing as long as you can…’

After refitting the propeller, I left it twenty-four hours and again hardened up the nut before re-drilling the safety split pin hole.

So, the ‘panic’ job was done within thirty-six hours!

The yard manager had dangled the prospect of time to do antifouling in front of us and after putting the question to my good mate, we’d decided to get the bottom antifouled while out rather than in just two months time on the slipway.

The weather being reasonably conducive, just, allowed for a coat of varnish round the transom, rudder and shearstrakes, these were sanded and given two coats.

All the usual out of water checks were made too: two lower pintle strap fastenings withdrawn and inspected, hull fittings for ‘brightness’ – that is looking for dezincification, centre plate pivot bolt renewal (very low wastage) and checking of lifting wire riveted pin condition.

While I was carrying out the checks and redrilling of the shaft, Christobel hit the antifouling…

The hull topsides were checked over and a few odd paint repairs were completed too.

Although the bulk of the bottom paint application is carried out by my good mate, she leaves the cutting in to me!

So, within a week of being lifted out, Whimbrel was ready for the water.

It was interesting sitting between the yard’s tide flood gates and the painted yellow hatched foot path guide lines: a fair number of people stopped to admire and comment or ask questions. Christobel said I should have put up the ‘Finesse class board’ I’d made and used at events…

What was pleasing was that no one asked if she was a Dauntless!
Several knew Whimbrel’s pedigree, and one person knew of me … ‘nothing bad he said…’

Another chap, a boat builder/repairer who works on projects in the yard said that Whimbrel was the finest Finesse he had looked over…

Flattery!

Arriving at the yard at 0825 yesterday morning, Thursday 7th, Whimbrel was already hoisted from her chocks. That last inspection of the lifting pin done, a touch of antifouling on chock patches and we were back in the water and on our mooring by 0905…

It was a little misty with a keen easterly, so we chose not to go off for a short sail, so after checking the bilges – no ingress – we cleared away homewards for a pleasant late morning walk in the sunshine around our local woods…

All there is left to say is thank you to the kindness and attention of the yard’s staff.

The other over riding joy was the fact that not a single vehicle ‘burnt past at speed’ showering the boat and us in dust and debris: that sort of behaviour is not tolerated.

P.S. Christobel took great delight in deleting ‘Antifoul weekend’ in our diary for May!