Having made a coastal passage up to the Walton Backwaters, my second port choice. Pin Mill was the original destination but when the wind tracked round from south-west to north by the time I’d reached The Naze, it was a no brainer… So here I am!
Last evening I enjoyed a pleasant pottery sail from a mooring a little above Stone Point in Twitch, my game little tender. A crowd aboard a barge, the Pudge, owned by the Thames Barge Trust, and being a ‘sleeping’ member, I suppose she belongs in some small part to me too … those aboard wouldn’t have known that though! There they all were, sitting in a neat line on the main hold hatch top (probably awaiting their call to dinner…), with a nice sailing dinghy still upside down on the hatch, unused… Shame on them all… Hey Ho.
I had a shufty up into The Dardanelles, creek known to Ransome’s fictitious sailing children. Various waders sifted the edges, some lifting off to alight further on, only to do the same again… Funny: a human would go behind. I was aware though that I could have been disturbing their feeding time. Then it was back to my own supper…
Ah, didn’t sleep well … mate is away at home. After doing an hour or so of some typing for an article for a yachting mag I slipped a reef into my mainsail: I was planning a ‘gentle’ potter around the creeks, ditch-crawling. The wind though, by now and easterly, had puffed up a bit.
Oakley Creek’s seals…
It was around two hours before high water. So, slipping my mooring with all sail set, I cut across Island Point with around 2m beneath me – plenty. here to first … ah yes, Oakley Creek of course, to check out the seals and preserve the right to navigate the channel up to the chemical/explosives jetty.
The Dock.
The tide was just below the height of the saltings and knowing that there is as much as a metre drop to the mud edge, at least, along most runs I judged I had plenty of water. The saltings was flooded with colour from a profusion of sea lavender – it’s a good time of the year to see and appreciate this wonder. There were several groups of seals along the way up. Reaching the top, there’s nothing else to do but turn round … there then ensued a frenetic bout of tacking. The iron tops’l was needed to clear away from an edge where I had dug the plate in. All part of the fun…!
Tacking out…
Reaching Hamford Water again I made for Landermere on a direct run. ‘Tacks back…’ I muttered, grinning and wishing my mate was beside me. Sweeping round into the creek’s entrance a chap called out, ‘…you look lovely…’ then quickly adding, ‘…the boat I mean…’ We laughed!
Two toppers came whooshing past with skimpily clad females aboard – colleges are out for the summer and it’s that age group one sees first at this time of the year – schools have another week to go! It was great to see the two young ladies enjoying the exciting conditions. There were many little cruisers and day sailers out, revelling in it … larger boats seemed to rely on that iron beast below their cockpit soles.
Purple sea lavender in the saltings.
I was in the top section of the creek, noting an underwater shallow patch, like a point, reaching out waiting to trap the unwary, on the turn in towards Landermere Quay. On the way I passed a nice looking motor cruiser, dating probably back to the 50s or 60s. Aboard was a swim suited lady who called out, ‘Lovely boat … what name?’
‘Whimbrel,’ I shouted back.
‘So’s mine,’ came her call as I swept by.
Reaching the area off the quay I felt it prudent to turn. I have gone beyond, but I wasn’t going to today… Up the little creek that runs alongside the sea wall above the quay’s group of buildings sat a barge yacht with her mast down. I thought she looked like the Landrail – known to have been recently moored in Kirby Creek.
Landrail, a concrete built vessel, up at Landermere Quay.
The work then really started … I ended up tacking all the way out and down Hamford Water. Reaching the little motor cruiser again the lady was dancing around on her cabin top taking pictures – clearly a lady who was at home on her boat. She’s going to send me some shots – I’d been able to communicate my web address: it has a contact form!
My dancing girl…
I’d thought, perhaps, after a slight wind shift I’d get a reach back down to the Walton Channel … alas, it was only a local ‘inland’ shift. In the distance I could see craft coming in under reduced sail – the easterly clearly picking up its 
Romping out of Landermere…
It was easier on me once the tide turned and I felt its action on the boat as soon as I re-entered the Hamford channel. Its length soon disappeared in the boat’s wake. From Oakley Creek, the easterly swell and tide rip over the wind had set up short seas. The edges were boiling brown and I kept well clear … no point in risking a touch ‘n’ go. The tide was higher than when I’d departed so I swept across the point again, immediately the water went smooth. The buoyed channel not s far away was boiling cauldron. Boats were swerving and shearing about. A motor fishing day boat made a hasty turn, rolling her sides into the slop, while I carried along in a world of my own.
I know the channel is buoyed for good reason, but why do shallow draft craft stick to it when logic dictates there is plenty of water over the ‘shallows’ … the decks of those barges are 2m above the flats … so if tide is at that level then that is the minimum depth. There you go …
Cutting the corner with more than 2m under me…
It was a grand sail, 12 nautical miles of ditch-crawling. I felt good, but, boy, it was hard work!
I was left wondering though at just how many of craft’s owners REALLY get to see these backwaters. I’m going to be bold and say, not many: the Walton Channel and the marina grabs them…