The second of January ‘dawned early’ as our alarm clock buzzed at a little before 0630. Christobel made our morning beverage whilst I headed for some ablutions. Both done, we headed off for a sail!
The tide was a neap with high water a little after 0930 and we walked round towards our Whimbrel as dawn truly broke in the east beyond Southend’s pier, clutching the makings for breakfast, I reveled in it. There was a light breeze from a northerly direction – this later became north-westerly under the Hadleigh hills.
Sails were readied and Christobel got the bacon on to sizzle … soon aromas were filling the air around Whimbrel as the tide crept upwards. The boat lifted and with a burst of astern we slid into the stream. Christobel helmed whilst I hoisted sail. The sails took over and we began tracking over the flood, outbound. The bacon, meanwhile, sizzled alone…
Bacon and egg rolls on their way…
No sooner than we had reached the outer limit of the Island Yacht Club’s moorings and our repast was ready!
Clearing the moorings with Brents in the shallows.
Ah yes, this is the life, scrumptious…
A tasty bite…
Clearing the creek we set a course towards Benfleet up Hadleigh Ray. All was quiet. Nothing else but birds were stirring beyond. Cloud away to the east blocked the sun’s appearance, but the light was increasing rapidly.
Morning light…
For a while, we both quietly chomped! And, I tacked the boat lazily with the flood under her round some shallows over a submerged island of sand. Licking my fingers and passing words of satisfaction to Christobel, we were both suddenly startled by a noise astern. We looked in wonder as several independent flocks of small wader, dunlin and knot surely, whirled past.
One of our passing flocks.
Another came by on the other side…
We watched as one lot weaved, wafted and danced over the Two Tree Island saltings before, in a tornado-like mass they settled within the enclosure of the island’s nature reserve. ‘The noise,’ my good Mate said, ‘it’s a susurration – yes a whisper but louder, like the swish of a breeze in the reeds.
Waders funneling earthwards … with some lapwings above.
Passing ‘Bird Island’ we saw that it was coated with feathered life. How lucky we are, I thought, to be able to witness all of this at such close quarters.
The western end of Bird Island.
We continued to tack west towards distant Benfleet. Clearly seen, in the light, were the myriad of masts with their clinking halyards standing stiffly to attention aboard the Benfleet club’s craft sitting in their winter’s resting places. When ‘east’ of Canvey Island point, the light plays with the masts on boats at the Island YC too … looking astern, they were in silhouette.
The level of ‘Bird Island’ has risen inexorably over the past decade. Passing London VTS crackled into life with a half-hourly update … the level was 4.8 m at Southend and I estimated that the mud just covers at 5.0 m. Close by the tide was well into the cord grass infested edges of Marks Marsh Island. Grass would be growing here, in the middle, soon surely.
We tacked onward, coffee finished. The gnarled stumps of General Booth’s Wharf was passed by. It’s posts sporting several statuesque cormorants, which dutifully lifted heavily into flight in search of the mornings next meal. Over on the sea wall, by then fairly close to, several groups of walkers wandered past. Some, with dogs prancing about and yapping at everything and nothing, others clearly on a post New Year route march!
Passing some further creek shallows west of the old jetty – again swarms of waders lifted and alighted at random.
Astern, I thought I saw a distant sail, but in the light wasn’t sure, but the sun was about to clear the cloud layer out seaward.
Across the water, a silvery ‘pathway’ tinged with a little gold heralded the sun making its appearance…
Christobel helming…
Beyond the sea wall hidden from view the almost continuous whoosh of the morning’s commuter trains could be heard … our ‘boy’ would have passed by as we came out of Smallgains. Well done son! On our other beam, Canvey Saltings were passing by. Every now and then a curlew could be seen, ‘hurtling’ arrow-like, loosing its eerie call. I watched as a small flock of peewits lifted, ‘crying’ as they did so, with their soft and lazy looking wing beats fluttering, butterfly-like, across the marsh. The marshes had been looking drab, but with the sun’s appearance colours were heightened … it won’t be long before the first flush of green appears.
As high water approached, we turned for home. And yes, ahead (now) I spied another sail! It can be seen under Whimbrel’s jib.
The scene just after we turned for home…
The sun had by then truly appeared and above was blue with some fluffy white stuff burning away. The distant boat passed by, motoring with her jib sheeted in tight. We all called our greetings and were quickly separated again.
The Christmas spirit…
One of ‘Santa’s’ little helpers took our picture…
Heading towards Canvey’s eastern point and the entrance to Smallgains Creek…
Outside our creek the mainsail was stowed and we slid quietly over the ebb inwards. I hung the fenders … our first sail of 2019 was drawing to a close.
Christobel going forward to her post, arms flapping like a puffin!
‘Ready to lower,’ I called…
As, outside, the creek was dotted with little groups of Brent geese. There seems to be a vast number this winter. The ones seen ignored our passing as they foraged along the marsh edges on the northern side of Smallgains.
The jib flutters deck-wards…
With way on the boat, we slid into out waiting berth. Either side of us were two wooden friends. Christobel said, ‘Now then Whimbie … you can tell them all about it…’ Our neighbours are Dick Durham’s Betty II and Gypsy owned by fellow Finesse 24 sailor, David, who lives on the hills above these waters and, probably, saw as he enjoyed a ‘late’ breakfast!
Upon arrival at the moorings some three hours earlier, I overheard Christobel having a conversation with Whimbrel – they have this ‘strange’ bond …
Slipping home…
Yes, it was a gorgeous sail. Gentle and nice, another of those to remember, surely…