Yes, it is hard to accept that sailing is a feature of my life that is on hold currently. Even Christobel has a hankering to just get out there and feel the soft breeze caressing her cheeks.
We know that along the tide lines, the saltings will be awash with an early greening. The first spikes of glasswort will be rising above the mud’s surface. Sea plantains and asters will be showing new leaf growth and the cord grass clumps will be sending forth their fresh shoots too…
Alas, whilst all of this is happening, Whimbrel rests in her berth waiting for her crew to board. The sounds of a sail bag being thrown up on deck, the hanking on, running of sheets, the removal of covers are becoming but a distant memory for her, as it is for us…
Around her, in the creek, Brent geese sally back and forth feasting on weed as tide allows. Waders feed, take off and alight again in their constant search for food. Familiar cries ring out. But I am reminded of the fact that for this year, I am unlikely to see the arrival of the first flush of common terns, or the departure in staggered drifts of the Brent that have kept us company for so many long autumn, winter and spring months. (I really question why they have to go!). Life goes on in this world. This is a world that knows not what the human inhabitant is suffering, the pain of many families before it will eventually come to an end…
But, as I say, life goes on.
Upon the boat being lifted back into the water I began a search for ‘plain’ galvanised mild steel bolts to replace the ones I last purchased. The bolt shown is a 4.6 MW which is a low carbon steel (standard bolt), whereas the 8.8 MW now often sold is a medium carbon steel and has around 3 x the proof strength – something not needed for a simple pivot. The carbon content, I believe is such in the higher tensile steel to cause fairly rapid degradation in sea water.
I emailed a well known marine fastenings supplier and they now only sell the ‘8.8s’ and when I sent a picture of each bolt all I got was a deafening silence. Thanks guys!
The search goes on…
With all the time in the world to do what little that can be done whilst ‘cocooned’ at home keeping off the streets and out of the way of other people, Christobel and I have extended the lengths of our ‘exercise’ period, on the one outing a day for this purpose as designated by the powers to be…
On domestic days, two for cleaning and shopping, we walk for an hour on a regular woodland route, but on the other days we have a route of anything between five to eight plus miles which has and continues to be enjoyed.
What has been noticeable is that the sky has become clear overhead of aircraft cruising towards London (Heathrow) or for destinations across the Atlantic, leaving a taste of a blueness before the time of aircraft!
We were on one of our longer strolls and were sitting on a convenient bench overlooking the moorings of the Benfleet Motor Boat Club, opposite the Benfleet Yacht Club, ruminating and sipping some cocoa whilst munching on a square of apple cake each.
Leaning back, my mind began to wander down the creek towards Whimbrel. The tide was at a point where I’d have been slipping into the mooring after a pleasant sail on the tide. There was a soft breeze. The sun was shinning and a fairly cloud free sky majestically surrounded us.
Apparently, I began babbling away to my good Mate, Christobel, reminiscing about a ‘trip’ for it wasn’t any one particular trip, but was surely a mix of many.
It was still early on the tide … the mud banks usually covered were still above the tide level. I remarked about ‘butting’ into one many years ago on a cold January day. I removed my life jacket, trousers and tops and ‘popped’ overboard and pushed the bow clear, clambering aboard as Christobel sailed clear, in the right direction along the channel … it can be seen mid/right in picture below. There were no saltings then!
I remembered too, sailing up here with a friend, a fellow prostate cancer sufferer , who had confessed to never having sailed up this stretch of water. It was his second outing of last autumn and only his third sail of the year for reasons unimportant to this tale. He was revelling in a comfortable sail westwards towards the Benfleet Creek Barrier.
The sun had shone that day, and later in the walk, the same sun was seen sparkling across the waters sailed that day with the friend aboard. My Mate and I both sighed. both feeling some pain, as we gazed for a little while, wishing…
Later after my friend and I had sailed back down Benfleet Creek and reached the regions of the entrance to our own creek, the sun was on the wain and rapidly heading into a clear early winter sky. It made for a spectacular sail in towards Whimbrel’s mooring.
I apparently reminisced too about an early morning sail with Christobel on a cold and almost frosty morning. Ah, what a girl she is…
I clearly remember, smell even, the waft of sizzling bacon … the bacon was under the grill before departure, ready by time we were sailing outward. Bliss!
‘Yes…’ Christobel piped as I awoke from my reverie, ‘the things I do for you…’
‘For you too…’ I added grinning at her!
The image below is one for the ‘for ever’ box. The boat is comfortable in her mooring, the sails are stowed, bagged and covered. The mugs have been washed and we’re walking slowly away as the tide quietly gurgles through the moorings on a gathering ebb, contented and full of sailing happiness … with added memories for ‘darker’ days…
