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…