Autumn is properly with us now in my little corner of England and sailing out on a tide has resumed.
First the Brent arrived and then the terns disappeared. Flocks of overwintering waders have arrived too. The Brent geese were a little early, I thought, signalling perhaps harsher conditions on their home territory. Home: I use loosely for they spend more time in their overwintering grounds.
September was a fine month for us and most of October, although a little windy for parts of last two weeks – gaps allowed time afloat, so I’ve no real complaints!
A gentle potter up along the Leigh-on-Sea shore and into Leigh Creek looking at the range of traditional craft ‘hiding’ away was enjoyed.
On one of the sails I passed two friends – both Finesse owners. One has a Seaking too. The chap’s Finesse is a ’21’ which he has put a new cabin on and renewed the decks.
One of the joys of autumn is the quiet upon the water and sight of the wintering bird life. I love too the colour changes taking place within the saltings as the last of the summer green fades. Along the Hadleigh downs, the autumn shades can often be slow to show, then, on a sail the hillside glows as a late afternoon sun bathes the panorama.
Sailing up past Bird Island for the first time since the spring I spotted a huge clump of cord grass growing. The island just covers at 5.0 metres (Southend). I wrote to the Port of London Authority in the spring of 2014 and drew their attention to this growing island. A tide gauge reading from VTS as I sailed by showed that the island just covered at 4.7 metres then.
I was told it didn’t exist!
Well, plenty of boats run into it!
Looks like an island of mud to me. Next year the saltings growth will increase, that’s for sure.
A survey report of 2001 showed the height in this area to be 4.5 metres above chart datum…
The silting progression is stark.
We had planned a two day heist across to the Medway together. The weather though looked a bit threatening for two nights but one was looking good. In the event the mate chose to let me go alone…
For a change, I enjoyed a glorious sail over the Thames, crossing the tide, and made it into the entrance of the Medway without recourse to the engine. I fetched across the harbour in a series of tacks before laying along the south side of Saltpan on a close reach. Marvellous!
After pottering upriver to Stangate Spit, I sailed back and made my entry into the West Swale, favouring Queenborough for my overnight stop. The Admiral’s Arm always provides a nice pint too…
Before going ashore I cooked off my supper – a Bolognese sauce – ready to reheat later.
The sunset was sublime. Queenborough – well the Medway basin as well – is a grand place to capture the sight.
After my scrummy supper and a call back to base, I sat watching a couple of hot air balloons crossing the early night sky. The moon was in full bloom, a silvery-yellow and through binoculars the surface craters were clearly visible.
With an early start in the morning a little before sunrise, I did not hang about and was soon wrapped up in my bunk, toasty, missing the mate…
The alarm shook me rigid as it warbled out of reach. Swinging my legs out, it was silenced. Pulling some clothes on I looked outside – barely a breath!
As soon as the kettle sang, first water in my tea mug then a porridge pot. These are quite good for early starts and the mate has made sure a few have been stowed aboard this last season.
The tide had been making around an hour and a half by the time I dropped off the mooring. With the genoa the boat fetched across the tide towards the Queenborough Harbour Trust’s pontoon while I hoisted the main.
The sky soon turned a salmon pink as the minutes ticked by. The wind built a little and I moved from a knot to a couple.
For a while I had the genoa poled out, but by mid Sheerness Harbour the wind became more south-easterly and I dispensed with the contraption. By then the boat was rustling along over the flood.
It was an easy sail across with the wind on the starboard quarter. A gybe near Southend Pier put Whimbrel on a run into the Ray. (Later, The City of, in honour of the murdered Southend West MP Sir David Amess who was tragically killed that lunch time. His constituency lay under the boom, across the water…)
Sailing up the Ray I did not spot any terns. I had the previous week. All gone. Autumn as far as I was concerned was bedded in.
The sands were covered as I sailed up the stretch abreast of Chalkwell Beach but a few seals were spotted in the shallows chasing fish as they were ‘swept’ over the top by the flooding tide. People that don’t know are aghast when told about the numbers that bask. The mate sometimes sends pictures to her coffee friends!
Yes, it has been a lovely autumn so far and in this little corner of the Thames estuary that I call ‘home’, I feel incredibly thankful for the bountiful beauty that those out on the water are able to witness. It is awesome in so many respects.
And too, I am lucky to have such an understanding mate. One who isn’t unhappy at being left alone on the odd occasion…