I don’t usually count over the autumn season until September has passed by for so often the weather can continue to be ‘sublime’, however this year, the sparsity of rain enjoyed during the whole year changed and we have had some heavy deluges in natures attempt to even things out…

We have also had to be away on family business – getting ‘mother’ settled into a care home after a series of falls, a fractured neck bone and Covid-19 Syndrome. Pluss we’d been away in South Lincolnshire on holiday.

So, with a fine settle Friday approaching and a good tide, we changed our routine and went for it. It was a little overcast, with a useful N-Ne blowing from the hills along the Leigh-Southend shore.

Leaving the creek, the Brents were prolific. The terns have gone now and wafts of waders were swirling around the point marshes. Christobel stood watching, entranced…

I had booked a facetime call with my mother to ‘take her sailing’, so we headed deep in towards the foot of Southend Pier. The call was late, so I had to turn (or try to go under…!). Her call came through shortly afterwards and my ma gave me a run down on the scene before her…

The beaches now are largely empty, but intrepid swimmers were seen with heads bobbing and one or two with ‘safety float’ tugging along behind. A sprinkling of paddle boarders and canoeists were also seen.

As we approached the area of the Essex YC, my call with my virtual passenger had come to an end, not before my mother had spotted the church on Leigh Hill.

We passed by the yacht that I’d gone back to to see if they needed any help after breaking their mast … I was surprised that no temporary forestay hadn’t been rigged. Presumably, they’ll be lifted out soon…

Sailing past the old Timber Wharf, I spotted an acquaintance (Tony) aboard his Seaking. The boat has suffered damage to her bilge due to twisting/pounding on keel depth bilge keels. I’d get them cut back somewhat, to minimise the chances of this reoccurring. It is a problem suffered by more than a few Finesse 24s with deep bilge keels – a problem many Centaur and other Westerly owners have suffered.

It was getting towards highwater, but all thoughts of turning for home were far away as I let Whimbrel carry on towards the Belton Way Little Boat Club, immediately west of the last cockle shed. I gave a cheery wave to the closed looking place, but there would have been a couple of ‘old boys’ sitting drinking tea!

Local sailor and yachting journalist Dick Durham was seen rowing his tender back to leigh from the Island YC…

I looked west up Leigh Creek as it fed round the saltings off Lower Thames Marine towards where a Finesse 21 has been moored for years, becoming nothing more than a delict. She has now sunk… How sad!

Having turned we threaded our way out towards clear water across the shallows, passing between the edge of Leigh Marsh and the stem of the old tiller steered barge whose stem alone now shows her existence.

Huge flocks of Brent were paddling about awaiting the appearance of eel grass as the tide ebbed away. It kind of reminded me that that indeed, the tide was ebbing and it wouldn’t do to touch on the flats…

With a beam wind, slightly on the port quarter we picked up speed as the hills receded astern and I was dealing with fenders, leaving Christobel to helm.

Once in the creek, a cacophony noise from Brent within the salting channels met us and I listened briefly before letting the main run down leaving Whimbrel to forge over the now fast running ebb.

Time for us to change positions … so with my trusty mate forward with jib halyard in her hands, we swung towards our mooring.

‘Down…’ I called.

The sail was doused…

The boat gliding serenely as we slipped into our berth until with a hard pull, as I grabbed the stern line, she came to a halt against the fenders.

Yes, it was a glorious sail, the first of our autumn.