I take a friend sailing twice a year for a long weekend – this began over a decade ago – long before the much trumpeted RYA take a friend scheme. But this year’s spring cruise coincided with a visit from my ‘Canadian’ brother. So, I ended up with two Graham’s… And yes, they played up a little, at times, having ‘committee’ discussions about who was being asked to do what. But, boy they were a good crew!

We departed on a dull Friday with an expectation of a little sunshine late in the afternoon. It tried. Sun block was forgotten. Passing a mirror later we all noticed that the sun had done its deed. We were red! Anyway, we took the outside passage to the East Swale enjoying a romp touching 6 1/2 knots at times in a bit of a sloppy sea on the Cant.

The two Graham’s…

Sailing into the Swale we passed dozens of seals upon the Horse Sand. We also met with the Mirosa undertaking a spot of day chartering. Sailing wise it was a cracking day. Later, a good friend – owner of Finesse 24 Mariette, a sweet gaffer – came sailing in aboard his other little toy, a super pallet, named Ocean Magic. We later enjoyed a beer and natter aboard on our way ashore to the Ferry Inn.

Seals galore…

Now, if you’ve not experienced the Ferry Inn recently, boy has it changed. Definitely a ‘gastro-pub’ making use of own grown veg and meat from the family farm. Cider comes from a Sheppey producer with Kent wines. The beers are similarly local. I had a sirloin to die for – it cut like butter and oozed flavour. The crew had a delicious looking chicken dish… One major problem – the hard is rather tired and in need of much loving care and attention… A bonus for us was the skipper of the Mirosa, Peter, hauling our dinghy anchor up the hard saving one of my crew a long trek – thanks Peter!

Starting around mid morning we were on a shorter passage to Queenborough on Saturday. We tacked with the flood to Grovehurst Jetty where a ship was leaving. I quickly decided to chase her to the bridge, saving ourselves waiting time! Down genoa and on diesel… On the way we had spied seals and crested grebe.

Crew preparing bacon sandwiches soon after departure…

For my brother this trip was a bit of a return to childhood: he’d not seen the East Swale since probably around 1965 on a trip round the outside on the May Flower. He warbled more than me, at times, in a Newfie lilt…

Queenborough was sort of busy. The sun came out during the morning which I thought would have enticed more craft out, alas no. The Medway, normally a sea of sail, was a blank canvas.

Showers were enjoyed at the Queenborough YC which always has a friendly welcome for all (£2.00 each – they need the money). The club has stopped doing food, unfortunately. We were told the two pubs had improved … I’d used the Flying D last summer – yes it’s changed hands, but I’ve yet to fully appreciate huge change. Its okay … a run out to the Ferry Inn would be a good learning experience. We were fed and watered in a satisfactory manner. What was noticeable was that although a good number of visitors were present afloat, the numbers ashore was strikingly low…

Sunday dawned glorious. I planned a treat for my crew – a sail amongst the Medway’s islands.

Departing from Queenborough under sail…

After tacking out of the West Swale and cutting across the nose of Swale Ness, pointing out where skeletal remains exist, we made for Stangate. An excursion into Pyefleet was made to show my brother the creek (and waste time) was made before returning to sail down Stangate to Slaughterhouse Point where my brother was amazed at the serious shoreline wastage that’s occurred since sailing past aboard the Edith May some years ago.

We slipped into Milfordhope Creek, old childhood romping grounds, and headed towards the entrance to Shoregate Dock. On the way memories of stray way walks out to Milfordhope Island and dinghy sailing were run through – and our last sail on May Flower in 1974 – but the narrow channel which is the Shoregate Cut was upon us. We went through around 2 1/2 hours before high water without touching, much to my crews amazement.

Approaching Shoregate Dock.

Rounding Bayford Point at the confluence of Half Acre, Bartlett and Otterham creeks we headed with a continuing friendly air from ‘up our chuff’ towards Horrid Hill – a place of cement, once!On the way a series of hovercraft whizzed across the water spouting water spray and issuing extreme noise – I’m sure, hopefully, the drivers enjoyed themselves!

Medway hovercraft.

Now, Horrid Hill is an isthmus of tangled scrub with ‘courting benches’ where often a couple can be caught ‘canoodling’ in what they believe to be a level of privacy… It always brings a smile to my Mate’s face and romance in her look-.

Horrid Hill.

Passing between Horrid Hill and Nor Marsh Island we chatted about the plethora of ‘concrete’ bases and rubble piles scattered across the flooded land. I know there used to be a farm. But some works seem to be more recent – WW2 anti-aircraft or search light bases perhaps.

Crossing the Medway’s channel in Pinup Reach we sailed on into Hoo Middle Creek and worked through. A chap on a craft I didn’t catch the name of hailed me … thank you for your kind words sir … Perhaps we’ll meet some time!

In Hoo Middle Creek…

Hoo’s pretty barge fleet… A champion amongst them too.

Hoo Marina’s latest building plot… A room with a view!

Clearing Hoo Creek we found ourselves in the midst of a mass of dinghies taking part in a short course racing session – there was nothing for it but to carry on, avoiding the path of the flying fleet! On the Hoo shore the remains of the Rhoda Mary still remain glued to the mud – what the vessel’s trust are doing, I know not, but they ‘borrowed’ some of my families 1951 pictures, so I hope something. There are plans to rebuild her in Cornwall…

Next, Rochester, ‘cos neither of the crew had sailed that way.

The ‘Pool’ of Rochester.

The picturesque old naval yard at Chatham.

A mooring was found at the Medway YC – the boatman waved my protestations to pay aside and said, ‘You’re all right here…’

We had a shock ashore – after supping a jar at the clearly closing club – we found no place to feed us! Back aboard I rustled up a pasta dish washed down with some fine red… The crew said, ‘…its the finest supper we’ve had on the trip…’ Good boys!

And so it was time on Monday to head home. Departure was fixed for 0600. We left at 0608! A steady motor-sail took us down into Saltpan and having breakfasted on bacon rolls we set the ‘genny’ and away we went.

Romping out of the Medway, home bound…

Yes, it was a grand little cruise. Many enjoyable miles were sailed. many a joke shred and just a few jars quaffed…