Goodness me, hasn’t it been a windy month!
One good thing comes from this aspect of the past month or so: I’ve done a lot of work towards my next book, the one to follow in the path of Swinging the Lamp. Although it isn’t folowing in the same fashion as my previous works: that part of my writing life has ended … I’ll say no more for the time being.
Last night, looking at the weather I told my Mate that we should be able to grab our last autumn sail: the metrological winter begins in a few days. Looking ahead, from Saturday onwards the wind strengths are in the ‘red’ on XCweather – the web site I monitor.
‘We going then…’ my mate asked me as the forecast beamed out from BBC Essex. And this time, at 0657, the current presenter didn’t cackle on about trivia keeping the weather person, usually one of the ladies, waiting… This presenters persistence in doing this has forced me to cast my loyalties aside. I cannot listen to the inane clap-trap that now ensues from this local radio station, in particular … so the joys of R4 bring life to us over the morning coffee. But, yes, this time we got the coastal forecast… Having got that off my chest!
‘Yes’ I said decisively. The mate grinned – not sure why.
We were able to enjoy a woodland walk first before heading towards Smallgains Creek. Reaching the boat first, after fairly scampering round our mooring walkways, I was busy removing the cockpit cover and as the mate came along our jetty finger I heard her say, ‘…you alright Whimbie…’ I had to smile: she is always saying that I’m the sentimental one…
The covers were soon stowed and the sails readied. ‘Ah’ I said, casting off the main’s first reef: it had been left in after my last sail two weeks and a day ago. It was fairly breezy then. Today there was a gentle W-NW 2-3. A bit of a change from the 5-8s we’ve been ‘enjoying’ of late.
Clearing the mooring the mate soon had the genoa up and it pulled us nicely over the tide. That done she was given the helm while I set the main. That got us moving a little faster… Brents bobbed about along the edges of the saltings and over the point, eastwards, a flock of waders were resting on the banks of shingle in the saltings.
Gently tacking up past Two Tree Island…
Several motor boats came trundling out behind us and the mate deftly moved the tiller to bring the boat closer to the channel’s edge, before cutting inside at a point she knew the boat could safely go. I was by then busy swishing the sides down to clean of mud splatter from the small amounts of rain we’ve had. I hate having dirty sides! Looking up I commented, ‘Bit shallow here…’ tailing off quietly.
My mate heard me though, and her answer, ‘Is it a problem … we’re not aground…’
Shut up Skipper and let the helm alone, I quietly thought to myself!
Leaving the creek the mate handed over and put the kettle on and passed out hot drinks. I was aboaut to hand back the helm but she said, No, I want to watch the world go by … it’s so beautiful…’
My good Mate watching the world go by…
It was a drifty sort of sailing: one moment we had a fairly decent breeze which heeled the boat a little and sent a wash creaming down past her clinker edges, then it would disappear making it difficult to tack … this, and a lack of concentration, caused me to drag the plate in the mud a couple of times – something rarely done on my jaunts this way!
Off Two Tree’s bird hides my Mate said, ‘Look … that boat … its flying shreeded plastic bags…’ It was too. It’s one of the two I’ve pointed out before. (Our esteemed Royal Yachting Association is still to respond to my letter about this, in respect to their stance on it…) Plastic particulates are a big worry to those who monitor the world’s oceans and the food chain within it.
Sarasota Sunshine’s owner should feel thoroughly ashamed…
For a while we sailed blissfully onwards with a spring tide doing most of the work! Clearing the Salvation Army Jetty remains the wind shifted (It nearly alwys does here – its those hills!) and we were on a reach. A little way past I turned. For a short time we made over the tide … then a bouy, already passed twice, was about to be passed again as the wind died to nothing and the water around us turned to a glass-like!
Flocks of Brents overflew us in several packed ribbons…
I looked at the Mate and said, ‘Engine please!’
‘You sure?’ she asked, looking at me cheekily.
It was started … and stayed on until we berthed, although we did get another fifteen minues sailing a little east of the point on a reach ito the creek. I left the iron beast running: the battery probably needed a charge.
Sails were dispensed with as we puttered into our quaint little creek, past lines of moored craft and empty slots: our lay-up pound is just about full.
Its days like today that make staying in the water one of the joys to be treasured during the long season when most are tucked up in ‘bed’ for the duration until the days lengthen and they awake to the fact that all those jobs still haven’t been done!
That in mind, I have two windows to reseal: just started leaking since last aboard … I have my piece of plastic to fasten over, waiting in my workshop, and they’ll be done, one by one, over the next couple of weeks. Next week even, whilst the gales blow!
The view across the Island Yacht Club’s saltingas as we walked away from the boat…