Ditch-crawler’s double-whammy, out on the winter water…

The autumn hasn’t been the best for getting out. When the weather has been ‘fit’ the tide has been out, but after a cold period with snow and ice on the run up to the Christmas period all has been calm…

My good Mate has been busy sitting round cosy fires and hot jugs of coffee getting round her myriad of friends for a last chat before the family festivities begin. P.S. We’re having a quiet one to ourselves, and, I hope, a bit of sailing!

Yesterday dawned bright and sunny with a little frost to remind one of the season, so after a customary ‘hike’ around our local woods – good for the soul and waist! – I high-tailed it down to the boat. The colours across the saltings were wonderful after many dull wintery days of drabness. The tide was rushing in so delay wasn’t an option. Covers were hauled off, folded and stowed. The jib (I felt best) was shoved out of the fore hatch.

It wasn’t long before I was ready. Whimbrel shivered as she rose from her muddy mould and floated clear of the putty. A burst of power and we were gliding clear, Brents barking and skittering close under the saltings.

Gliding out of Smallgains Creek…

Where to I thought, discussing the options in my mind. I’d not been up to the Benfleet Barrier for sometime, so that was the route decided upon, especially as there appeared to be a slant in the north-westerly coming off the downs. So in brilliant sunshine and an all-around blue, silvering as the sky met the distant horizons, I sat back to enjoy a leisurely sail westwards with the tide. Clearing the creek a little grebe popped up close by. They’re quick little critters and it was soon madly flapping its wings as it beat a retreat, before diving for elevenses, again…

Reaching through the moorings in Hadleigh Ray.

Far away in the distance the low sun lit up the myriad of ‘silver’ masts as if a many candled Christmas cake, blotting the dark heights many miles beyond. Around the boat the sun coloured the winter saltings grasses golden. Away, on the downs, all was dark for autumnal leaves had lost the will to hang on with frozen snow encrusting them… Walkers, cyclists and runners passed by, in both directions, upon the sea wall top. Whilst below, the whine of electric trains ran by out of sight.

The Island’s other yacht club, ‘The Benfleet’, in the distance.

I enjoyed several long fetches and needed but three tacks to reach the other yacht club’s moorings. The wind here can be ‘funny’ and a spot of deliberate tide drift helped reduce the tacks needed to work through.

I went forward to take this shot, leaving the ‘old girl’ to fend for herself…

I spied two of the Benfleet Finesse 24s. One was out of the water and the other was still afloat, but looking lonely … there are two others, the whereabouts of one, I’m lacking knowledge. It would be great to see them move… Reaching the floating pontoon belonging to the Dauntless Yard, I turned the boat, spinning as if on a sixpence, pinning the headsail back until round. All was quiet ashore – I only saw one human being moving slowly along the shore.

Leaving ‘The Benfleet’ astern…

The cold was beginning to seep a little as I sailed lazily over the still incoming flood. A mug of soup and my lunch of Ryvita crackers, cheese & tomatoes helped stem that push! It wasn’t long before I was aware of thoughts of stowing sail and preparing fenders. The mains’l was stowed and with fenders ready to push over-board, the boat stemmed the fresh ebb into Smallgains. I was going to sail in, but the low sun made for difficult visibility. Off my berth I downed the jib and started the diesel…

Into Smallgains…

I should have persisted with the jib: standing on the jetty, down the sun, was my mooring neighbour and owner of the Finesse 24, Gypsy. This kind fellow held the boat as I moored and we chatted…

It was great!

Then there was today! Last night’s forecast talked of thick freezing fog and a deep frost. Wonderful. But, my trusty xcweather indicated otherwise. There was hope.

I awoke to a sparkling day, prodded the Mate who was going to be otherwise engaged, and said, ‘I’ll be sailing later…’ As if she couldn’t work that one out!

During our morning walk we met a friend – the one who gives me chunks of Christmas tree – and he has promised a length shortly… Wonderful: I do love a traditional look to the boat.

Later, after sorting my lunch tucker, I hi-tailed to the creek. Ah, it looked glorious.

A festive goose across to the Southend shore…

It was a bit nippy even though the sun shone. The weather girl had said, ‘…and temperature, between 0 and 6 degrees…’ Well there was a covering of frost upon the foredeck as I’d prepared the boat. So, it being time for a coffee, I realised the walking flask was in my coat pocket – a little libation found its way into the mug. Mmmmm, delicious, especially with a mince pie…

In went a noggin…

Having reached across to around the Crowstone along the Westcliffe shore, I turned and began tacking towards Leigh (Bell Wharf area). The sea front was busy with dog walkers exercising their pooches where in kinder months parents similarly treat their offspring. The Essex YC was passed by and I eventually reached close by ‘The Leigh’. Here I felt it time to head back across to Canvey Point…

‘The Essex’.

The Leigh-on-Sea shore from the Leigh-on-Sea SC past the billet, cockle sheds, Beltonway Boat Club and Lower Thames Marine.

I enjoyed a flask of hot homemade soup as I jostled across the Leigh Flats toward Canvey Point. I’d left some in a pan upon the stove at home for the Mate to enjoy too … and as if to reinforce that, my phone buzzed … Christobel, arriving home from one appointment with a pal, wanted to say ‘thank you…’ How sweet!

The sun glistened water was thick with Brents along the edges of Two Tree Island. It won’t be long before they’ll have scavenged the eel grass from the flats and then they’ll crop the sprouting winter wheat tops – apparently causing no harm to the crops.

All sail set on the final approach to Smallgains … between the posts!

Reaching the point, sail was stowed, the trusty diesel started and in we went. On the approach to my mooring some Brents lifted off whilst others just watched from the security of the purslane edge. Beyond, there were whistles of some small duck which I couldn’t see. Peewits called and a lone curlew loosed off its familiar cry…

My face glowed. My heart has been gladdened and my soul enriched. Yes, it has been a fabulous couple of days.

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