Ditch-crawler and mate make a most of being ‘released’…

On cue, on Monday 29th March, we, in England, were released from hard lockdown to go afloat on a ‘cabined’ craft, maintaining household bubbles.

The weather was predictably windy but glorious drying sunshine poured down too – so some varnish repairs were stuck into. Lots more to do – a late start too!

The fore hatch still awaits fitting, you may well notice in a picture or two.

On the Tuesday the wind had died to a light breeze which came up more during the afternoon. It was absolutely glorious. The last time we sailed out, two days before the third lockdown, the Christmas tree was up. That was on New Year’s Day. It seemed a long time ago.

Peacefully sailing out of the creek…

We sailed over towards the Crowstone, on a comfortable reach, enjoying the buzz we both felt. It was quite warm, but when in the sail shadow, the wind had a bitterness about it, reminding us that spring was only just begun for the equinox was two days earlier…

The first of many water bikes seen…

A buzz of another sort soon impinged on our ears from the quiet around, apart from a low chuckling from the waterline. A group of Personal Watercraft came from behind the saltings on Canvey’s eastern point and zipped past.

One peeled away and came back across our stern and then across the bow – fortunately some distance off, but it met the previous wash waves to bounce over them. Exhilarating it may be…

As they all disappeared into the distance, Christobel said, ‘thank goodness…’ Yes!

The sails showed signs of their long sojourn. The main with creases from being lashed up along the boom, and the genoa from its ‘jail-term’ in its bag!

A bit of use will sort them out!

Dinghies setting sail from the Essex Yacht Club.

From a little before the Crowstone area a call came through from my mother’s care home, on cue, as planned. Christobel helmed so that I could tour the decks and show mother the sights: this shore was the haunt of her young adult years. My mother thoroughly enjoyed her ‘sail’ with us…

The white sails of dinghies were seen being launched from the Essex Yacht Club. A safety boat was pootling around, so, presumably, youngsters were out…

I was given back the helm as we passed Victoria Wharf, which like the beach and its sister wharf, Bell Wharf, were fairly sprinkled with ‘family’ groups.

Along past Bell Wharf.

It was pleasing to see swimmers, canoeists and paddleboarders out enjoying the water too. In the distance, I spotted ‘an old friend’ in his sailing canoe. A sweet little affair with an outrigger, usually sailed by two chaps.

Up past the Belton Way Little Boat Club…

‘Where we going…’ the mate asked as we passed the Billet where we would drive to on a Friday after my prostate cancer radiotherapy sessions on a Friday evening…

‘Past the Belton,’ I said, receiving one of those looks!

As we approached the entrance to the Lower Thame Marina, we came round and needed a spot of power to clear a short double string of fore and aft moored craft. No way of tacking through!

Once clear, engine was silenced and we tacked east.

It was at that point, the blessed roars of PWC’s was heard again.

PWC’s ‘at their best’…

‘Look,’ Christobel said, ‘what are they playing at…’ They were roaring snake-like in a kind of figure of eight way hard into the shore where people were being sprayed with salt water!

A small group of canoeists were back paddling to stay clear!

As we tacked to clear the point, more zipped past to join the seashore fun…

Our sailing canoe friends made a change of course and sailed clear of the area as fast as we were, at first, until the cleaner flow of air from the hills took us away from them. We managed a cheery wave though.

Our sailing canoe friends surrounded by PWC’s ad their wash waves.

Once out towards the Ray channel again, the mainsail was stowed while Christobel ran, gently, over the ebb towards our creek.

The water had sparkled and glistened all afternoon. Twinkles of diamond-like light, glorifying the day.

Entering the creek, space was made for the Island Yacht Club workboat…
After sorting the fenders I had time to capture a couple of paddleboarder groups chatting…

At a non stated moment, Chrsitobel moved forward ready at the mast to drop the headsail as we slipped towards our mooring.

Ready…’ she called back, letting me know she was set!

We slipped in nicely. A helping hand held onto a shroud as I brought Whimbrel to a halt with her stern line. The chap was working on his own Finesse 24, moored two berths away. Thanks mate!

It was just glorious. Pent up frustrations ebbed away during those two and a half hours, refreshing heart and soul…

P.S. Apparently, the local constabulary were activated by a member(s) of the public regarding the PWC’s. The actions of these louts came days after a piece in the national press about greater regulation being considered, with a leader in the Saturday Times (27th March 2021). There actions were dangerous…

A further point: PWC’s currently do not fall into a ‘boat’ category and are therefore not covered by regulations that cover the rest of the yachting and shipping world. How strange!

Harbour regulations differ around the coast too. Locally, the Port of London Authority and Medway Ports have successfully prosecuted owners…

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