After the sadness of our first leaving of Faversham the second going was a happy affair, other than the mate not being aboard to enjoy a fabulous twenty-four hour window of opportunity… Unfortunately she had a pre-booked pre-paid trip with her U3A group on Thursday last.
Alan Staley and his young shipwright had stripped out the centre plate casing sides, cleaned up and refitted leaving all as good as the original job.
When these boats were built a ‘paint glued’ joint was used by Alan Platt. I thought Alan Staley was going to put some lead powder in the red lead paint his lad used, but apparently this wasn’t the case. It didn’t work…
The joint surfaces were cleaned back to bare wood and everything was dried. A PU (Polyurethane) moisture curing glue was used on reassembly. The through post copper fastenings were upped one size: same size cannot go back. They look meaty and strong!
When the boat went back in she didn’t leak anywhere … the young shipwright was very relieved. So was I… Alan said, ‘… we tried … it didn’t work … this method has…’ Here lies a lesson for anyone doing the same.
The reassembled box… I was preparing my supper, note portion of pasta awaiting a simmering pan of water – my glass of amontilado is out of view!
The yard has been conducting tests with the PU glue – many makes now on the market – chucking glued bits in a steamer, leaving outside, leaving in creek . Upon trying to split these joints open has only resulted in tearing wood apart… So there we are…
I got to the boat during the Thursday afternoon after a fairly rapid journey: Bus from Hadleigh to S. Benfleet rail station, train to Tilbury Town , bus service to ferry … walk up to Gravesend station, then wow a fast train to Ramsgate via Faversham…
I then set about washing the boat through and getting ready. It rained at first, but as the tide came, slowly, up the creek, it stopped. Over to the west a tinge of late sunshine peaked beneath the cloud layer … I was getting excited. But the tide seemed so slow in making – was I nervous, yes!
However, I eventually departed around 3/4 hour before highwater…
Iron Wharf behind me, outward bound…
It was still light, but it was fading fast. It was an uneventful motor out into the E. Swale and I found a buoy by torchlight… It was dark by the time I passed Hollow Shore.
During the night a wind over tide situation woke me … all the paint I put round the forefoot recently has been bashed away onto the buoy’s hard surface. I HATE those hard plastic buoys!
Looking back at Harty as the sun rose…
I was awake before the alarm and set off as the new day’s light lifted eastwards of me and motored rapidly with the last of the flood westwards towards Elmley Ferry. There I was able to set sail…
Off Elmley Island’s hump with Grovehurst Jetty ahead.
Calling up the bridge keeper to alert him of my desire to transit, I was told that as it was rush hour – there coud be a delay … but he would do his best. I got there at 1/4 to 8!
On the approach, my breakfast bacon ready prepared under the grill had been set to sizzle … buttered rolls sat waiting too. The mate would have been impressed…
Approaching Kingsferry Bridge…
I spent around twenty minutes sailing up and down. During which the bacon had crisped and was soon being munched. By 10 past 8, I was going through… Full sail was soon set.
Tacking round the West Swale…
Running to Queenborough!
I enjoyed a lovely tack up to Long Point, then a rapid run towards that quaint town of Queenborough. Here the wind semed to pick up. Of course, it hadn’t, it was just that we were getting closer to open waters… A wonderful feeling!
Hard on the wind going past the old ferry terminous … the open ‘sea’ beyond beckons beyond.
The weather was just perfect. It could have been summer but for the temperature of around 6 degrees C. Did I care, not a jot, Whimbrel was bounding homewards … the mate, who had texted or called a couple of times, sounded overjoyed!
The bilges were still dry!
After working round the Grain in around 3 m of water I was able to point high enough to sail west of the Mid Nore Swatch. It didn’t last: as he deep water channel buoys were approached the wind died. Whimbrel was soon sagging away towards Holland! A ship was spotted too. On engine. YES, true … but off the pier it was stopped. It had done its bit…
The pier in sight…
Passing close by the Leigh Buoy and into the Ray…
The tide was still ebbing. It had around two hours left to run off the pier. So, on a fine day with a decent breeze, there’s nothing better than a beat to windward. It keeps the cold at bay too… So that’s what I did.
Sailing close into the edge of the Ray Bank, a little below Smallgains Creek. It was just before low water.
Sailing up near where the Leigh Beacon once stood, my phone buzzed … John Chapman, a sailing friend and past Finesse 24 owner, had sent a text. It read: ‘Ready about…’ I sent a message back, quckly, the tiller between the cheeks of my behind, ‘coming round’ and the boat was tacked, again…
I lost count of those tacks, but boy I was warm!
The waiting buoy, laid by the Island YC was soon reached. Close by sails were stowed and the buoy picked up…
After a light luncheon, I cleared away sails and covered the main. I have to say I then hit the sack. I hadn’t been out for more than fifteen minutes and that blessed phone jerked itself across the cabin table shaking and singing away until I answered … the mate … wanted to know if I was alright. Sweet of her! I went back to sleep.
Waking at around 5.20, the kettle was set to boil for a last mug of tea. Then it was time to get underway: the old girl could sniff her muddy berth and she was soon cosseted within its soft bosom as we slid in…
Home! The mate was jumping up and down on the end of the jetty, arms flapping like a demented clown, a grin spread across her face. Pleased to see me or the boat home?
It’s two days later, the mate says that I haven’t stopped grinning…