Ah yes, I’ve been on the verge of becoming fractious: we’re half way through the season of Advent, well on the way to Christmas and my inner self, never mind the mind, knew that it had been a little while since I’d communed with my little boat … other than resealing a couple of windows.
As always, I’ve been watching for a change in the weather patterns we’ve been ‘enjoying’ of late – lots of sunny and blowy days! Then on Saturday I detected the first sign … Sunday was going to be quiet, but unfortunately, a HP ridge brought mist and mizzle – yuck – but today looked good!
Sailing out of Smallgains Creek…
Getting out at this time of the year is one of the supreme joys of keeping the boat afloat and active and I must say I’m currently glowing with the exhilaration of it. It wasn’t stressful, hard work or anything like that, just, just grand.
My good mate was otherwise engaged at a U3A carol service where she was doing a one of the readings … so couldn’t come along. Shame: she would have enjoyed it…
The wind was a light southerly, round a force 3, so with sails set I slid out of the mooring with the engine ticking over, as she swung, the wind filled my genoa and away we went, tripping over the tide at a sedate pace. Boy was it a grand feeling, to be under way again. I was like a little school boy with a bag of mint humbugs…
Around the outer end of the creek over the saltings on the point flocks of waders were carrying out a dazzling aerial display, swirling and changing direction in their wonderful random way. I was mesmerised
Ballerina’s of the sky…
I was soon travelling faster with the tide having chosen one of my favourite winter routes, up through the saltings to the other Island club, The Benfleet … passing Bird Island a flock of knot and dunlin lifted off leaving an array of Brents poking and prodding at the glutinous surface. This patch of mud doesn’t cover until around 4.85m of tide now…
Dunlin and Knot lifting off from Bird Island.
The one remaining boat in this upper part of the Hadleigh Ray Channel, better known as Benfleet Creek, is still flouting the pollution rules – flying the remnants of plastic bags. They’re well shredded now – perhaps one should hope the owner eats the fish with the biggest bit within its belly!
Whimbrel having a go at sailing herself…
Sitting back and enjoying my lunch sandwich and a cup of soup, I watched as flocks of Pewits lifted off the saltings edges. They seem to have such a lazy manner of doing it, unhurried, almost whimsical. Then, when up amongst the moorings of the Benfleet YC, I watched as tiny grebe popped up, shook its head casting a little shower pattern in the water before diving once again, surely, it was in search of its lunch too…
Approaching the club house of the Benfleet YC.
Upon turning off the ‘Benfleet’ I found the wind to have too much east in it. On went my trusty little diesel engine to get us clear. It was soon shut down returning the world to the quietness of the afternoon. The sky’s cloud cover had been threatening to break and reveal the sun- it did. Wow, its low rays dazzled and danced upon the creek’s surface.
The sun’s rays dazzled and danced…
I was able to nip forward and get a shot up the mast to frame Whimbrel’s bit of Christmas cheer, courtesy of St Michael’s Church in Daws Heath … its the top metre or so, but does look good and is being put to good use!
Whimbrel’s mast head dressed for the festive season…
Sailing on past the end of Canvey Island, I rounded up, briefly, to drop the main and get a couple of lashing round it. Then there was just a little time left before the first of our creek’s buoys were reached. It was quiet. A motor boat had puttered noisily out before turning and heading back in again – at least ‘he’ was out …
Reaching into the creek…
It was time to say goodbye to the outer waters and think about my approach to the mooring. I wanted to sail in and did…
Shortly after berthing the kettle was put on to look after itself while I began to tidy away. Leaving the foresail to be bagged I amble below to make a beverage: it had been chilly.
Whilst sipping away at my hot drink, I leaned on the hatch top watching the tide recede for a little while, munching on a slice of Dundee cake … Oh yes, it was a glorious sail.
The weather for the next week looks dire again, pink to dark red on XCweather, up to 50 odd mph… Boy, am I glad I grabbed at this opportunity!