2020 has been a traumatic year for many. The Covid-19 pandemic which has swept around the world from its starting base in far off mid China at the end of 2019, has caused economic and personal devastation.
In its wake, a huge number of people have been infected. Sadly, far too many have and continue to suffer the ultimate sacrifice. Many survivors have developed what the medical world have termed ‘Long-Covid’ – with largely respiratory problems.
We lost an immediate neighbour, leaving two teenage girls motherless. My own 89 year old mother suffered badly from Covid-syndrome and at the time of writing, a much loved 91 year old aunt is currently suffering from the infection – fighting it and showing signs of pulling through.
The ‘whys and wherefores’ of this whole appalling human tragedy will, eventually, be sussed out by the health body of the United Nations (WHO) with a view to what are the lessons should be learnt.
During the various levels of lockdown periods, we have walked for Essex this year – both of us wearing out our boots and requiring new ones!
During the middle of last year, I wrote a blog ‘asking’ sailors to abide by rules about going away overnight during the then secondary lockdown. Sailing had been allowed as an exercise sport during the day, with a specific instruction to return home to main residence.
The result of this was for a ‘disgruntled’ sailor from the Benfleet Yacht Club issuing a threat – spread around the locality and wider Thames Estuary – to burn Whimbrel. Later, after a verbal attack, the affair became an active police matter.
See:
Tied in with this, ‘we’ had gone to the assistance of a Benfleet Yacht Club vessel which had gone aground. The crew were desperate for help.
After stowing sail and going back to them, we’d attempted to tow the boat clear of bank it was on using a tow line quickly made up with our best warps. We failed. The tow line (our warps) was inadvertently passed to the casualty by the Island YC work boat which had also come to give assistance.
Sadly, but a sign of the age we live in, neither we or the Island Yacht Club received any thanks, nor have the warps been returned, inflicting a cost to us.
Attempts by the Island Yacht Club to convene a meeting to discuss these matters with respective senior flag officers proved fruitless with a series of prevarications on the part of the Benfleet Yacht Club. Their attitude no longer surprises me…
And there, it will probably rest.
So, for me in particular and my mate too, we are hoping we can put all of this behind us and go forward into 2021 with renewed optimism for a much brighter sailing year. And, to be able to sail where we want without fear of threats of any sort: this marred our sailing hugely during the past year.
One much favoured area was not visited and another anchorage only twice – the second resulted in the mentioned ‘attack’ and it is something we would not wish to experience again.
One of the major pleasures we are looking forward to during 2021 is the ability to take afloat all the people who have regularly sailed aboard Whimbrel over the decades. It has most certainly been one of the ‘downers’ of this last year.
I am already geeing some of my crews up: although the Covid-19 situation is currently quite grim, life will return to near ‘normal’ as inoculation numbers increase.
On the first day of 2021, we made it afloat en-famile for the first time for a number of years. Our boy as a ‘live alone’ so is allowed to move within our bubble. The ‘boy’ didn’t get a sail aboard Whimbrel during 2020 for various reason, from not being available, home working requirements, not being allowed during earlier lockdowns and weather!
Shortly before the boat picked up our crew arrived, relegating us to lesser roles of deck hand and cabin girl!
It was a bit of a grey day, with a cold WNW blowing down the creek. The air temperature was around 2-3 deg C, not as cold as our last sail of year, the previous day!
Sail was set in timely fashion, shooting up-creek with the tide, turning the boat on her axis to run out.
Waders swirled around the saltings and Brent dabbled amongst the cord grass stalks hunting for food. For once, both the mate and I had time to look around together…
Clearing the creek we ran east towards the area of the Crowstone in Chalkwell Bay.
Eventually, a tack was made in towards the shore. Passing close west of the ancient stone boundary marker of the Port of London, tacking away. People ashore seemed enlivened by our mast-head hamper: the Christmas Tree!
Further tacks were made with a long one out before heading in towards Leigh-on-Sea: I had booked a facetime call with my mother in her care home and wanted to be closer inshore for her.
During this time, the ‘cabin girl’ had set to and prepared tasty bacon and black pudding rolls. Yum!
Off Leigh-on-Sea’s Billet public house were turned round a Finesse 21, Penny and reached across the Leigh flats to the entrance of Smallgains Creek.
A few months ago this stretch of water was alive with Brent awaiting the tide to drop so they could feed on the carpets of eel grass that is a favoured delicacy. They were no where to be seen. We did however, spot a friendly seal which popped up for a look…
By the time we reached our creek, all were feeling the cold. I warmed up dealing with sails, as did the mate when stowing the headsail. The boy was ‘sent’ away to get warm!
We both walked away from Whimbrel, glowing inside and outwardly. I had a grin beneath my wind reddened cheeks which I carried home, with more than a spring in my step…
That ‘glow’ was wiped from our hearts by the more than expectant broadcast from the Prime Minister on 4th January 2021 to the whole of the United Kingdoms, but specifically in detail to England. Another full lockdown has been announced.
As I get set to post this, the likelihood of sailing during the next couple of months looks grim: the rules are yet to be promulgated…