Although we lived on Canvey Island for some 23 years we had never walked ‘out west’. It was until recent times open farm land – grazing in the main – but a few years ago the RSPB got their hands on a section. A scrape or two has been made to create shallow freshwater pools for birds. Paths have been laid, friendly for wheel chairs and the like, and signs erected etc…

Finding the info for the site, I worked out a round route taking in the reserve, sea wall along East Haven Creek, Holehaven and across the old Occidental site where there is a bug reserve. So, on a rather cold and windy day clearly unfit for sailing, we set off with a picnic and a flask of soup!

A slightly crumpled map of Canvey West RSPB Reserve.

The RSPB car park is free of charge – a good start. Setting off to pass close by where a farm once sat, Pantile Farm, where there is said to be some remnants, we walked quickly along the ‘sweet’ hard and smooth finished surfaces. Reaching the site of the farm, nothing was observed to be ‘remnants’, but a viewing platform sat alongside a ‘scrape’. Not a single bird was using the area! Leaving, we ignored round routes, and reached the sea wall. We had seen one bird, a gull, which squawked a wheeled above a group of walkers with dogs…

Looking back across the RSPB reserve.

The tide was on the ebb. In fact the creek was emptying fast. I gazed upon a stretch of water and mud I’d never before set eyes upon. It struck me as being rather narrow and I wondered, aloud to the Mate, about whether or not that it would, in fact, close off one day  – probably near the sharp turn by the A130 road bridge, away in the distance in the plate below.

Looking north up East Haven Creek.

I wondered too about my father sailing round here in his father’s last boat Lynette, a 24′ (roughly) Bermudian cutter. Christobel asked if this was where the once a year dinghy ‘race’ took place. Well, obviously! It is something run by the Island’s sailing clubs and one can row or sail, or both…

Shortly after beginning to trek southwards a huge flock of lapwings (peewits) took off from the saltings opposite us in a massed cloud of dark lazily flapping wings. Their cries were clearly audible, against the wind in our ears. Along the creek’s banks, other waders were feeding, clearly taking advantage of the freshly tide washed mud.

Stopping briefly where a piece of land sat within two sea walls, indicating a growth in ‘inning’ many years ago, I spotted what looked like refuse type surface on a patch of saltings that clearly sat above the areas around.

Old Wharf remnants?

Wandering over the area, the surface had chalk and broken pottery within it. I could not discern any remnants of post tops or the like, or in which way the wharf ‘ran’ i.e. along the creek’s run or at 90 degrees as found in many places. Northwick farm sat a little further inland and a map produced by the local historical group showed nothing to that farm’s north.

Later, at home, I carried out some research and found old maps showing a wharf, where found, and a farm – Tree Farm. The farm appears to have been disused by the time of WW2.

Section of OS map of West Canvey and Area from 1913 – National Library of Scotland. (Apologies for quality…)

The dock I am discussing is at the top of the plate. It ran in at 90 degrees to the creek’s run – this was common on various maps over the period of around 100 years. Clearly it belonged to Tree Farm. Interestingly there was once a small settlement on the Pitsea side – called East Haven, with a wharf. This will be under the huge pile of rubbish that fills Pitsea Marsh!

We stopped by East Haven barrier for our picnic, using a flat concrete wall for a perch. Sadly, others had too: their rubbish lay strewn about…

Leaving, we moved onwards but by then bordering Holehaven Creek. I looked up towards Pitsea Barrier, a place I’ve a hankering to pass through under sail! The creek is nicely posted by a series of port hand buoys: tugs and compacted waste barges come this way. Out on the water and along the mud edges a menagerie of bird life fed and ‘chattered’, ignoring our distant intrusion. There seemed to be a lot of small duck too … so different to the so called reserve!

A view up over Fobbing Horse (lower), Pitsea barrier and to the rhs, East Haven creek’s juncture with its barrier.

Beyond, in the distance, was what was clearly a derelict wharf. It wasn’t shown on the current OS map, or the historical sheet… The wharf lay upstream of where a farm settlement once sat – Westwick – I later found. It sat west of Northwick Farm (still active), whilst Westwick was to the south-west, level with the northern tip of the Upper Horse. The wharf was marked on the old maps I found and once seemed to have had a tram way linking it to Northwick.

Looking down Holehaven Creek past old wharf with Holehaven upper horse in distance.

Inland of the derelict wharf the land had been infilled to a level far above where the high tide line was on the outside. Something to look into!

A strange landscape wit chunks of concrete protrude from the rough grass and bushes, met our eyes…

It was chilly, but the sun eventually came out giving some pleasant warmth out of the wind. After passing a more recent disused wharf, once part of the Occidental Site (A disused and unbuilt refinery from the 1950s), we made our way inland through the old tank farm layouts and road system of the unbuilt refinery. Here, various forms of bug life have been found. It is home to the Carder Bee too. The land was reclaimed with Thames silt and it is thought that this provided the base for a unique habitat. It has become a SSSI – Canvey Wick Nature reserve. It seemed to be mostly ‘peopled’ by dog walkers with various levels of leavings, bagged or otherwise … something that is so common!

Canvey Wick Reserve notice board.

The car was soon reached … but did we enjoy the walk?

The Mate said, ‘Apart from finding the old wharves and strange infilled land … it was boring and full of nothing…’

I have to agree – although I enjoyed seeing where my father, with his friends, and my grandfather once sailed. many years ago, told about in Mudlarking, I described an occasion my father put his dad’s boat up on the mud some way west of Benfleet Bridge. he and his mates had to dig her out. A picture tells a thousand words!

On the way over the Benfleet bridge, I mused upon my father and grandfather sailing through the old opening bridge … a bridge I have rather vague memories of.

Grandfather’s converted whaler, Goblin, about to pass down through the original lift/rolling bridge in late 1940s.

Such a crying shame a lifting bridge wasn’t built as a replacement…

Last Friday my Mate and I trundled up to London Town to visit the Tate and take in a play (Lady Windermere’s Fan at the Adelphi – good!). We enjoyed a bit of the illuminated art too.

The Tate has, currently, an exhibition about ‘The Impressionists in London’ detailing some of the varied works of art these artists painted whilst exiled from France during and after the Franco-Prussian wars. It should be noted that some of the artists were conscripted and witnessed the horrors of the insurrection that followed France’s defeat. Some paintings from that period were also on display…

Tate Britain on Millbank, London.

The exhibition has a time to run yet.

See: http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-britain/exhibition/ey-exhibition-impressionists-london

Impressionists in London guide – Courtesy of Tate Britain.

There were two bits that caused me to bridle. Both revolve around incorrect terminology within the maritime environment and pure ignorance, which is unnecessary at this level: the art world curators must have the ability to ask a question of say, the maritime Museum…

One of the impressionists featured was Monet (Surprise, surprise!). Some of his series of the Houses of Parliament in various levels of mist, fog and smog were in one section. These are lovely pictures. Within the mistiness of the art work, the level of detail is awesome. But when reading the information plates, I was staggered: the exhibition curators managed to be so very wrong about the river craft depicted.

The Houses of Parliament in Fog by Monet – one of a series. Courtesy of Wikipedia.org

Now, for anyone who knows what they’re looking at it is easy, yet, surely, other members of the general public viewing these pictures have a right to be given correct information so that they too know… The curators for this exhibition described the two vessels as ‘yawls’.

Drawing from Edgar J. March’s book, ‘Spritsail Barges of the Thames and Medway’, clearly showing what a bridge sail looked like.

The vessels are clearly spritsail barges with gear down and river sails set. The lowered mast, almost to deck, can be seen and were clearly seen by Monet otherwise he wouldn’t have painted them: impressionists painted what they saw, not what they thought they could see, or knew was there… Even the more distant spritsail barge has a discernible lowered mast.

A barge with bridge sails approaching Cannon Street Bridge – 1884 – from Frank Carr’s book, ‘Sailing Barges’.

These two pictures from readily available material or from the national Maritime Museum clearly show what a barge bridge sail looked like. The ‘March’ sketch, in particular, could have been a model for the artist’s work.

Now, I have NEVER heard of a Thames sailing barge being described as a ‘yawl’. She could, in perfection terms, be described as a ‘ketch,. Yawl, never!

The last section of the exhibition looked at the movement’s works as the time flipped into the early years of the 1900s. One of the younger members was Andre Derain. His work has a modernistic bent, with bold colour with scant fine detail which some could describe as ‘child-like’. These were evocative, all the same.

As I stood in front of a painting – Barges on Thames, Cannon Street Bridge, 1906 – I seethed. I was bemused with the description given in the info plate. A man on a what is a Thames lighter, one of two beside a spritsail barge, was stated to be ‘a man on a boat…’

Now, in the maritime world, a boat is a particular vessel. A car ferry is a ferry, a oil tanker is a tanker, a spritsail barge is a barge, and a Thames lighter is a lighter …

I walked out, feeling disgusted by such inadequate knowledge in what is supposedly a knowledgeable and educated sphere…

Obtaining a copy seems to be ‘difficult’, so the actual painting can be seen here:

https://www.reproduction-gallery.com/oil-painting/1177382248/barges-on-the-thames-cannon-steet-bridge-1906-by-andre-derain/

Apart from my ‘little’ gripes, we both thoroughly enjoyed the exhibition … moving on to take in some of the delights within the gallery itself: we’d not visited for quite some time…

Ah yes, it’s been a lousy start to the year around the Thames estuary. We’ve enjoyed bucketful’s of wind and Whimbrel has sat in lonely ‘silence’ awaiting her day. Last year we were out on day one!

Last year (2017) had been one of the best sailing year’s we can remember. The boat was in use on 115 days, not a record by far, but she covered 1070 nautical miles, which is thought to be the most the old girl’s done in a year.

Any way, the Mate and I spent Saturday morning ‘slaving’ with our club’s work party, during which I watched a sluggish tide come and go. It was only a 5m and there wasn’t a lot of wind … but we gained a few ‘brownie’ points.

Sunday dawned grey, but dry with a gentle breeze. On the way to the creek, looking eastwards, the dawn sun was just creeping under the layer of low cloud.

Walking to the boat, Kent was bathed in a golden glow…

Kent glowed ‘gold’…

Reaching Whimbrel, covers were soon stripped off. The genoa bag was heaved through the fore hatch by Christobel before she got our bacon under the grill. It wasn’t long before both bacon and boat were readied.

Boat and breakfast ready…

The tide seemed to take an age to rise. During neaps there is an advantage: the tide takes equally as long to ebb. In the event we had three hours out sailing by the time we returned.

Eventually, with an audible sigh from the centre plate case, Whimbrel rose and was afloat in its gloopy mud hole. A burst astern and she glided into the run of the tide. Whilst the Mate helmed I soon had the mainsail set and we motor-sailed out of the creek. Passing a motor boat, an ex Northern Lights tender, we were hailed and saluted by the boats kindly owner.

I noticed something unusual. It was unusually quiet around the saltings and tide edges. Brent were conspicuous by their absence and the normal cries that generally emanated from the purslane and cord grass were missing. Perhaps it was too early!

Headsail set, Christobel comes aft…

Clearing the inner creek the Mate set the genoa and I began to tack lazily eastwards, drinking the last of my coffee.

After a little while, astern of us, another boat was seen to motor out. She set a head sail and motor-sailed close by – for a short natter – before stowing sail and motoring away to the east towards Southend Pier. Beyond the pier, the sky was perceptibly lightening up.

Tacking eastwards…

Out on the Thames highway there was a steady stream of shipping heading inbound and outbound. There were two motor boats about and a lone paddle boarder, other than those we were essentially alone.

A happy skipper…

Closing the shore east of Chalkwell Station the whines and yaps of dogs could be heard: they have the run of the beaches during the seasons either side of summer… There were an unusual number of people treading the familiar ‘cinder’ path along the front between Leigh and Chalkwell (It isn’t made of cinders any more but the name has stuck…).

Awaking from a reverie, we turned westwards to ‘salute’ the ‘Essex’ and ‘Leigh’ clubs. All appeared quiet…

Christobel having a trick at the helm, calling, ‘don’t take my picture…’.

On the way back out towards the Ray Channel, the thin cloud was finally pieced by the sun. It streaked across the water and its warmth was immediately apparent. The Mate had got chilled … silly girl! Earlier, whilst running a bit of film I’d caught her humming and singing quietly whilst jigging about. ‘It was because I was cold,’ she said, grimacing a little.

The sun pierced the cloud…

The sky all of a sudden became blue above and the line crept rapidly westwards so that we were sailing towards a blued sky. The mate opened her arms and soaked the sunshine … more in hope than the warmth it had, yet it could be felt. I must admit, even I had begun to feel the chilliness…

Astern a blue sky opened up and enveloped us…

The tide was on the ebb and had been for a little while. It was time to organise fenders and stow the mainsail. This activity enlivened my slightly numbed toes. With the sun, the breeze seemed to ebb too, and we crept slowly into the creek.

Astern, all was blue and the sun lit the tan genoa…

Approaching Smallgains Creek’s entrance I spotted a fellow boat owner standing in the well of his ‘fishing sloop’ taking pictures. he saluted us. We returned in a ‘silly’ manner, feeling exceedingly happy. Along the saltings edges there were a few Brent about, but the saltings themselves had a quietness that was strange.

Whimbrel creeping into Smallgains… Picture: Simon Lawrence.

The Mate had gone forward in readiness to drop the genoa. I called, softly, ‘Leave it … we’ll sail in…’ I did start the engine, just in case!

Gliding across tide we slid gently alongside our mooring finger and came to as stop. Grand.

Bagging and covering sails I wondered quietly whether or not there weren’t a just a few other local sailors who’d wished they’d grabbed the opportunity too.

We were glad of it…

The 2018 Essex Book Festival brochure is now out on the streets.

I have been booked for an event at Canvey Island Library for Tuesday 20th March at 1930.

See details on link: https://essexbookfestival.org.uk/event/nick-ardley/

Love to see some of my ‘readers’ at the event…

The New Year is already passing by, but unlike last January when there were more quiet days, we’ve enjoyed a ‘bit of a blow’ across the country. Very heavy further north, but into the 60 mph zone along the Thames. To say the least, any thoughts of a sail on any tide this last week has been out of the question.

Looking back to January 2nd 2017 I find there are some lovely pictures of a quiet sail. It was late afternoon and the sun was setting as I cleared away and made for home…

Here are two from that sail:

Coming back down Hadleigh Ray with marshes along the island’s northern shore to starboard…

A tranquil sunset a year ago…

The weather will return to some normality, surely, but until then memories must suffice!

Happy New Year to all.

Season’s greetings to all…

A friend up the road in Daws Heath sent me a young fir tree to haul aloft. Chap, John, used to grow trees but has long since ceased, but his land is ‘loaded’ with various trees and saplings. He likes the idea of a tree going afloat.

Whimbrel taken by a fellow Finesse 24 owner, Rob Hardy. Thanks Rob!

And, here is the young tree from the cockpit – many thanks John.

Whimbrel’s festive cheer.

Whatever your interests, may we wish you all a gloriously happy Christmas and a peaceful and prosperous New Year. God Bless.

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.

A little packet dropped through my letter box yesterday, during a day trip up to Greenwich to see the special exhibition about Franklin’s North-west Passage debacle 170 years ago… Anyway, it was a nice gesture of the BBC.

Good picture eh!

The Mate and I have watched the programme through again – rather good overall. I was a little ‘narked’ about one little thing – a lack of credit. I thought this was to be placed at end. Hey ho – must insist next time!

The programme can still be found on iplayer. When I next see my ‘foreign’ family and friends, Graham A & Paul M, I’ll lend or screen as desired…

I do not have any sailing exploits to report on for the weather has essentially been base. I am hopeful of a couple of tide sails this coming week – I’m beginning to twitch!

Bye for now.

For some while now the May Flower’s bob stick has been hanging on an old boot lace lashed to a central heating pipe in the corner of my study (cum put-me-up), gathering dust… It occurred to me that it could have a better use.

May Flower’s bob stick, with topmast ring and acorn…

So, to release my good Mate Christobel from needless dusting (Her duty: I’ hoover’…) I dropped the Sea-change Sailing Trust a line and offered them these relics, which in all probability were the fittings on the May Flower’s  topmast when she was crossing tacks with the Blue Mermaid near the West Hook Middle (Before buoy was moved recently) on 9th July 1941. The Blue Mermaid being a steel barge set off a magnetic mine. Apparently the vessel was lifted clear of the water and when she came down, there was nothing to see… The May Flower sailed back over to the spot to find only flotsam. Her crew perished.

The upshot is that the SCST now have these bits and Jim Dines is certain that the ring and acorn will adorn the new barge’s topmast…

While delivering the item, I met the Economic Development Officer for Maldon Town Council, Heidi Turnbull, who was enjoying a talk with Richard Titchener about the trust’s work and how the new vessel would be integrated into their core work.

Outside was the barge’s bowsprit and windlass which has been retrieved from the sailing barge Ena at her last berth within the Hoo barge graveyard.

Windlass carcass being de-rusted in preparation for a fresh use…

Close by was the bowsprit heel pivot assembly…

I then went aboard the Blue Mermaid which is sitting in Heritage Marine’s floating dock where all sorts of works are ongoing.

Heidi Turnbull with Richard in the cargo hold…

Mizzen sprit and mainsail setting boom…

View looking aft – new leeboard crab winches offered into place.

Windlass bitts in place…

Main mast case ready for finishing…

It was a pleasing visit to this very worthwhile cause: when the barge is completed the charity will be able to continue working all year round, afloat…

Check out the trust at: http://www.seachangesailingtrust.org.uk

Christobel is currently knitting a further batch of wooly hats for people on trips who forget theirs!

My Mate Christobel knitting hats – anyone can help…

Essex Book Festival 2018

Some while ago I was asked by the chair of the Essex Book Festival to participate in the 2018 programme – silly to say no!

Nick Ardley is honoured to be participating in the 2018 Essex Book Festival.

This event is probably the most prestigious of any in the eastern part of England, attracting quality, serious writers.

I will be talking about Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View, read some extracts and answer questions.

Venue: Canvey Island Library

Tuesday 20^th March 2018 @ 1930

Price: currently unknown (c. £5 to £10)

Tickets: Mercury Theatre, Colchester, Tel: 01206 573948

www.mercurytheatre.co.uk

Canvey Island Library from January 4^th 2018 

What the publisher said:

• A book for lovers of sailing amongst salt, marsh and mud.
• A passage not made within the pages of a book since the 1920s.
• Beautifully illustrated with modern images from the water interspersed with old prints.
• Rochester to Richmond is of love and enthusiasm for an unknown side of the River Thames.

Blurb:

People say that Nick Ardley is an eccentric, an anachronism from a simpler age, for the way he sails his clinker sloop around the Thames estuary, wending amongst the tide-riddled marshes to drop anchor where the fancy takes him. In Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View, Ardley has a clear plan: a reflective journey between Rochester and London, a path once of commerce, but now pleasure. Rochester was of immense importance to Britain’s past trading richness too. The belching chimneys pouring acrid fumes and cement dust have evaporated. Oil refineries have slipped away, but wharves lining the banks remain alive. As a distraction, he wanders a little above Rochester and then again, a little above the Pool of London towards Richmond. Between, he lands amongst the marsh and mud, finding graves and farmsteads enveloped in purslane and lavender. Many towns sailed past were part of this heritage, supplying building materials and food carried by the tan-sailed barge to London. Ardley dips and dabbles into these communities and explores how they have transformed.

Books will be available at the event.

https://essexbookfestival.org.uk/booking-details/

www.nickardley.com

For information I shall be at the Salty Dogs Gallery in Maldon on the evening of Thursday 30th November to message and sign copies of my latest book, Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View.

Salty Dogs Christmas Show (Gallery) is located at No. 11 Market Hill, Maldon, Essex. CM9 4PZ.

It would be great to see you…

Yes, I know, the weather people say autumn starts on the 1st September, but I’m a die-heart and take absolutely no notice of that. The seasonal change is officially the equinox on 21 September, but we’ve been enjoying such gorgeous weather that I think autumn clearly began yesterday, 1st November! I had two nights away on the Medway last week – it was fabulous. My Mate decided not to come, but regretted her decision…

Anyway, today I had a ‘sail alone’ on a splendid morning tide…

I needed to be down the creek early so I cancelled our morning perambulations through our local woodland (exercise – but we went later) and beetled down to my creek. It was just after 2 1/2 hours before high-water, yet the boat was nearly afloat. It was early. Zipping round I soon had the girl set for the off. Sail was set off the mooring. A light W-NW was blowing, although ‘blowing’ is hardly the right word for it was a light breeze.

Goose winging out of Smallgains Creek.

Creeping past two sleeping Finesse 24s, Calluna and Gypsy…

Leaving the creek I began working in long and short tacks of a lazy nature westwards. The breeze eventually threatened to die so upon reaching the old Salvation Army wharf I turned, giving up on a ‘visit’ to the island’s other yacht club.

I spotted a grebe, but as yet I haven’t seen any autumn little grebes locally. They’ll be about surely. Coming home last Friday I saw, sailing up the Ray Channel, a single tern. The thing should have been far away by now – strange. It was a touch misty when I departed, but by this point I saw the light was accentuating the fluffy cotton tops of the sea aster seed heads in a white haze above the saltings. This was heightened by a group of little egrets stalking the marsh edge intently watching the water’s surface.

The colours changed. To the west mist clung to the downs where they’re closer to the creek. Far away to the east, it had receded too. I was sailing in bubble of blue tranquillity. Apart from a chilly feeling, I felt as if it were summer again…

Above, a swirl of waders, dunlin and or knot, swooped over the mast…

I passed a boat which for a number of years has been flying plastic bags from its rigging and lines. Last springs bags are all but completely shredded now. I just do not understand why this owner (and others) continue to carry out this practice. There has been much media attention on serious programmes such as R4 and BBC1 News about the problem of ‘sea plastic’ and where it is going: surely, in time it will end up in us as it climbs through the food chain.

It was quiet. Yet across the water I the sound of the  passing of every train permeated as they ran on the lines tucked down in the Hadleigh ‘basin’ under the downs. The sound of sirens from emergency vehicles came too mixed with the gentle ‘quark’ of Brent and the cries of a myriad of waders.

Then I saw this…

This boat’s spring hanging of plastic carrier bags and such has disintegrated and is now polluting your sea…

I believe it is time for the authorities to take action. A fine, big enough to hurt needs to be instituted, even the confiscation of the vessel. Something has to be done. It is a pity that the owner’s club hasn’t done anything about: surely (I will not name them) they must hold some of the guilt too…

Turning away in utter disgust, my heart was gladdened by the sight of a gaff sail moving swiftly away from Smallgain – it could only have been one of two boats. I used to see a ‘gaffer’ regularly, but her owner has sold the boat and now I haven’t seen her sailing since the spring, sadly. She’s remained local, of the same class as Whimbrel, but her owner isn’t interested in the class group, which I find exceedingly sad about. There are five of these craft ‘up the creek’ yet none appear to have owners with the will to use the blessed things, although one is ‘laid-up’ above the bridge and unlikely to come out… Chill, Skippy, Chill!

Anyway, the direction of the ‘sail’ was moving me which boat it was likely to be. Betty II a sweet little cutter built in Leigh in 1922. She’s now owned by Dick Durham, lately of Yachting Monthly’s News Editorial, but now retired but doing YM projects on a roving basis. Dick recently posted a film of his boat returning home to Leigh-on-Sea from the South Coast … but she hadn’t for her moorings are at the Island YC on Canvey Island. Clearly Dick was doing the deed…

I ghosted round the edge of the Two Tree Island saltings towards the Leigh-on-Sea shore. And yes, it was Betty II.

Yes, Betty II with Dick Durham and a crew aboard … calling in at The Billet…

I worked past Betty II as she manoeuvred to a mooring buoy. Dick and crew were clearly going to the pub! As I was where I was, ‘The Belton Way…’ I thought. So I luffed my way onwards in the narrow channel which had barely a metre along its edges and turned off the club’s foreshore mooring trots, spinning Whimbrel on a sixpence…

Off the Belton Way Boat Club…

It was time to head homewards: the tide had turned and I was on the Leigh shore! Passing close by Betty II I chatted to Betty II’s skipper briefly. He’s staying the night and coming ‘home’ tomorrow! Whimbrel was saluted as we sailed onwards…

A salute from Betty II … Ooooo, I felt proud!

After a series of long and short tacks I fetched up under the island’s eastern saltings where a gurgling hum of feeding Brent filled the air. With sails stowed, I puttered home after nearly 3 1/2 hours out… Wonderful!

News!

Book event aboard the Edith May in Lower Halstow Dock, Lower Halstow, Kent.

Event is on Saturday 11th November, 1030 to 1600. Parking available.

The dock is off Lapwing Drive just after triangle or past pub.

Tea/coffee and cake, and also soup and crusty bread will be available.

If anyone is definitely coming along and would like to reserve a copy of book, this would help me with number to order.

Hope to see lots of you…

Well before the ‘sailing season’ my good Mate, Christobel, saw a piece tin the Times about an upcoming exhibition about Nelson at the Castle Museum in Norwich. ‘Let’s go…’ I immediately chirped, adding, ‘…we can stay overnight.’ So we did.

Earlier this week we set off up the A12 and took the long route to Norwich passing through all the coastal port villages on the way, stopping short of Hunstanton  before dropping down into Norwich via Nelson’s father’s church at Burnham Thorpe…

Blakeney was our first stop. Beautiful, but we got fleeced for a short period of parking…

Walking along the John Wallace causeway at Blakney…

A Norfolk Mussel Boat

Chatting to the owner of a little motorised launch with a tasty fore and aft shape I learnt that she was a copy of a local Mussel Boat. There were several others on moorings, but rigged for sailing. The owner was also a skiff rower and had done the ‘Round Canvey Island’ jaunt during August. He complimented the Island YC in particular for its welcome and care…

Sailing version of ‘new’ boat.

Then we stopped by at Wells-Next-The-Sea (or Far-From-The-Sea) after passing through Stiffkey where a boat rehabilitation trust is based. It is interesting to see how far the tide has receded at Stiffkey – its very name indicating a corruption of a maritime past. The tide though is gradually coming back in…

Wells is a true tourist rip off place, especially with regards to parking – we beat a retreat fairly quickly

In Wells, I spotted a boat that looked like the original of the little mussel boats seen a little earlier at Blakeney. Moored on the same pontoon were two old RNLI Lifeboats which have been restored. A board tacked to the side of a Fishermen’s shed gave some details…

The Lucy Lavers and the Ernest Tom Neathercoat.

The board!

Driving onwards the next little port was Burnham Ovary Staithe. We had been to this little port before on another, but longer, jaunt into Norfolk.

A sweet little varnished clinker ketch…

I love it for its still in use half-tide quay or Hythe. The creek is quiet and essentially a potterer’s paradise. At the top of the staithe is an old barge’s crab winch once used to winch boats up the shore – it had the look of a lost use and would surely one day end as scrap!

Loved this!

But my good Mate was waiting…

Our next stop was Brancaster Staithe. Here we both enjoyed some local crab sitting on a wall overlooking the little fishing dock. The dock has a flushing pool, but the outer edge has not been maintained and was clearly crumbling under the ‘weight’ of tidal forces.

Brancaster Staithe with Christobel waiting patiently…

After wandering off, I found a delightful yet workmanlike little skiff. She was clearly in a sort of abandoned state, but intact.

The little boat which clearly had a mast with a lug sail, perhaps…

I was looking her over and in the act of looking closely at her construction – flat planked bottom with clinker sides – when a sharp voice called out, ‘What do you think you’re doing … what do you want.’

I was a little taken aback by the bark, from a stern looking lady. ‘Just looking,’ I said nonchalantly.

‘You’re not taking anything are you?’ she barked.

‘Why would I’, I asked, smiling, for it was clear I’d come across the angry local… I was right. I was then laid into about trippers, thieves and vagabonds from afar.

I said it was a shame the boat has been abandoned with a clear lack of attention over a long period. As the lady began to lecture me about ‘mantenance’ I stopped her in her tracks and said, as a wooden boat owner, I didn’t need a lecture, and, that I was in fact someone brought upon the water who had a deep love for the coast etc…

Two other views…

It transpired, after the lady had piped down, that the little thing is a Mussel Boat. She said the boats were grounded on the banks as the tide receded and loaded to return as the tide came back in. I told her about the way cockles used to be loaded in the same way in the Thames Estuary, but she wasn’t interested…

Before we parted I asked the lady if she’d heard of the new BBC2 maritime programme coming soon – she hadn’t. She shook her head…

I said, ‘Watch it for you’ll see me in it…’ My subtext being: perhaps you’ll understand!

I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone quite so rude on a waterfront. However, we both had had a lovely day and we chuckled over my lady as we swept inland…

Some while ago I did some filming with the BBC for a programme to be titled, a Floating History of Britain. This has materialised upon completion and immanent screening into ‘Britain Afloat’.

The programme brief was to describe the history in brief of various vessels and look at the way they had survived with new purposes after working lives had finished. Essentially, all have now become ‘play things’ but in respect to the spritsail barge, it became something more for many decades – floating/sailing homes too.

It was the floating home aspect the BBC were interested in when talking to me for the filming, plus a simplified history.

Mary Ann Ochota and me aboard Ardwina.

I was asked about many aspects of my childhood afloat with my siblings, what we got up to and what we had to do. There were ‘history’ questions and finally what the area meant to me which led me onto waterfront change – the theme in Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View. The book link is: http://fonthillmedia.com/9781781556207

Eventually during the early afternoon the Ardwina departed with the TV crew aboard for Greenwich where a charter party was to embark – I was then involved in what seemed a frenetic number of takes about the river…

Talking specifically about the childhood ‘we’ (my siblings and I) had aboard the May Flower over the course of three decades.

Ardwina on the Thames bound for Greenwich.

The programme begins on Saturday 30th September 2017. BBC2 2000 – 2030. There are some regional differences. See these links:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/corporate2/mediacentre/proginfo/2017/40/britain-afloat

http://www.yachtingmonthly.com/news/alert-boats-box-63046

Enjoy!

Dick Durham who is a member of the prestigious Island Yacht Club based on the eastern end of Canvey Island tells me that he is buying a boat for ‘ditch-crawling’ – she’s a vessel built in 1921 at Leigh-on-Sea. This means his beloved Wendy May has to go.

Wendy May showing her flowing lines after a coat of paint in the spring of 2017…

The boat is a ‘punt’ type and has been carefully maintained over the years.

She is from a Maurice Griffiths design and I feel she is very similar to MG’s Seaway design which were built from 25′ up to 30′ – described in ’60 Years a Yacht designer’ …

She is rigged as a gaff cutter with a retractable bow sprit.

Length between perpendiculars is 25’6″.

Length including bowsprit set is 32′.

Length WL is 23′.

Beam is 8’6″.

Draught is 4’3″.

She is planked in pitch pine on oak frames – copper fastened.

Wendy May was built by Williams & Parkinson at Deganwy, N. Wales in 1936.

What a handsome transom she has…

Wendy May is now available to interested people at £13, 500.00 and I’m told Dick is open to offers.

The boat is on a mud mooring at the Island YC and can be viewed by appointment with Dick.

Wendy May is a boat best suited to sailing grounds where depth is less of a problem than the Thames Estuary – although Dick’s not known to take the ground absentmindedly!

Dick can be contacted on dick.durham@btinternet.com

Tel: 01702 713613.

Go on, you know you’ll love her…

We had this in the diary before we’d even left the festival last year, and it will again be entered, hovering over a weekend in September 2018.

The weather for Friday looked a little ‘iffy’ with rain showers expected (we got some!), but not too windy – but with sunshine forecasted for Thursday, I sped across the Thames on a beam reach all the way into the West Swale, making it from mooring to mooring in two hours  I was going to go into Stangate, but had a free berth…

Christobel, the Mate, was busy with a couple of pre-arranged appointments so came over on Friday by car bring books, table and herself… Only the Cambria was ‘in’ other than Whimbrel. The harbour Office were taking a run of absences as the afternoon progressed – disappointing!

Friday dawned dry, but showers were expected. My Mate arrived while I was up at the Queen Phillipa enjoying a coffee and pressed the managers assistant to open a decent coffee shop down near the harbour…

The Leigh Bawley Doris arriving…

The steam tug Barking arriving with a blast from her whistle.

With fresh stores, I was able to dish up a tasty chicken tikka marsala for our supper before repairing ashore by the liberty boat for a jar at the local micro pub and yacht club (They’re mad in there!) but an old friend reserved himself a copy of Rochester to Richmond… Thanks Big Al!

Saturday dawned bright. Immediately after munching a bacon roll I was away in the dinghy for a spin round the harbour while Christobel cleared away.

Whimbrel and Cambria in the morning glare…

For once I was organised and flew a banner…

A Maurice Griffiths design with gaff rig.

What a splendid sight.

Because the boats that were supposed to be on the pontoon hadn’t come, I was given a berth alongside Doris, berthing later in the day. By early afternoon the footfall really got heavy and people began to purchase books too. Christobel had to hightail it back aboard Whimbrel for a steady stream of people wanted to have a look and get ‘the tour’…!

People streaming aboard Whimbrel.

Cambria’s transom from my stall… The barge proved to be quite a ‘pull’.

A tap on the shoulder while I was talking to a book fan brought me into conversation with a reporter from the Sheerness Guardian. He’d been asked to find me and take a picture of a happy customer with the new book. Grand!

It was so pleasing to meet so many people that have so enjoyed my writing. Humbling in fact. After a recent ‘berating’ from a single person, I have felt extremely fragile and have currently dismissed thoughts of further writings. One chap said, ‘…from my first reading Salt, Marsh & Mud, I felt I’ve know you both and feel I’m sailing along aboard Whimbrel…’ and another lady said how much she’s enjoying all the books… I must admit a little tear developed when I told the Mate. Ah!

With Denis and his sister Terry aboard Doris…

Sunday dawned and it was time to high-tail it back across the Thames: wind was expected. And now moored awaiting tide, it has arrived.

I waved the Mate goodbye…

Mate Christobel’s customary two armed wave…

Approaching Queenborough Spit I spotted a boat which had tacked soon after rounding and apparently west bound – strange I thought. As I passed the spit buoy the boat came round again. A lone chap called out, ‘Hi Nick…’ then, ‘how old are you?’ (!) I answered and a conversation ensued. It turned out the man is Peter Parsons (known as The Vicar! from his days working on the rebuild of the Mirosa). He met me when I was eleven at Twinney Dock on a visit to the May Flower. A blast from the past. He then went on to say that he’d been looking out for me: he wanted to pass his thanks for all the books he’s enjoyed – now this has happened around ten times this summer. Very touching and as per I’ve said before and I humbly thanked him.

As we parted Peter called out, ‘hope to meet for some tea soon … I’m at the Medway Yacht Club…’

I snapped Peter’s boat, Grey Lad, as we went away in opposite directions. Sadly, he’d said, his Mate no longer sails … she’s suffering from Alzheimer’s disease… His wife had been his sailing partner in the manner of my Christobel…

Thank you Peter, should you read this.

It was a great sail across with an hours ebb on way to Grain Flats and dead water most f way across channel…

Shooting past the Mid Nore Swatch…

6.7 knots heading into the Ray Channel…

And, the seals were basking on the sands to watch me past…

A Great Weekend. Thank you Queenborough Harbour Trust. And, you are always so helpful…

As I have been away from home I haven’t been able to see a copy of Rochester to Richmond in the ‘flesh’, however, now I have: my good mate, wife Christobel, has purchased her own copy…

She was in floods of tears as she showed it to me!

Silly ‘old’ thing!

Rochester to Richmond: A Thames Estuary Sailor’s View.

One of the joys of cruising the east coast is the way one often meets with old friends. These may be people or craft in my mind. Here though I shall specifically refer to various craft met before.

One of the places I really enjoy is Woodbridge. Not for the town alone: along the shore of the upper river sit old friends. Some will be on the move at some stage soon for in one case Cachalot, a cutter built in a wood yard outside Folkestone, Kent, during the Boer War is nearing a decade long rebuild. I first met this vessel some four or five years ago and wrote a little about her.

Cachalot … shortly after being launched at Woodbridge.

Her old name board in a pile for disposal…

Cachalot is broad in the beam displaying very much an air of work rather than pleasure for the period when built…

Whilst in Woodbridge, I rounded up a fellow Finesse owner (of Faith) to assist in moving Cachalot’s mast into a covered area. We were rewarded with a lovely fresh coffee and choc biscuits! The owners are hoping to have her rigged out before the end of the year – she can be seen at the Tide Mill Marina.

Up on the same piece of hard standing I came across another boat which has lain abandoned for around a decade… She is unlikely to go anywhere now. She’s a ply version of a well known west country inspired gaffer.

She doesn’t look too bad from this angle, but look closely…

Within her cockpit are several saplings growing quite happily, feeding on rain water and ‘nutrients’ from rotting wood!

A little further upriver from the marina my good Mate and I went to look at a Finesse 24 we knew has been sitting out of the water for a number of years. She looked sad, but some marks indicated something was possibly happening – paint had been scraped away to expose planking… I went in search of the yard manager who I’ve chatted to on various occasions.

Mackerel Sky…

The boat, Mackerel Sky has been recently purchased by a new owner who has instructed the yard to provide a schedule of work that requires to be done. Good news indeed. This boat was for many years moored close to home, at the Benfleet YC before going up to Norfolk…

After a little while we pitched up in the Walton backwaters. On a visit to Titchmarsh marina to clear three loads of laundry from our ‘bilges’ and, being weather bound too, I wandered across the marina’s yard to look for Halda, a Finesse 24 dating to around 1972. She was a ‘gaffer’ and has lain abandoned for around fifteen years, mouldering and rotting. There are many useful parts still fixed in place.

Two views of Halda…

The boat’s name came from a corruption of the names of the original owners.

Talking to the yard office, I discovered that this is likely to be my last acquaintance: she is imminently due to be cut up and burnt. Christobel, Whimbrel’s good Mate, asked to have a look. I watched, surreptitiously, as she stroked the boat and mouthed some unheard words.

Goodbye old girl, ‘fond’ memories…

In the past couple of weeks we have been subjected to a few cases of poor etiquette, so it has occurred to me that perhaps this is an area of sea going lore that is on the wain, or sadly, has died.

Currently we are sailing on the River Deben. We had sailed up to the road bridge by Wilford Quay and pottered back to clear Woodbridge under mainsail and a little engine … clearing the town we were soon sailing properly, munching on cheese sandwiches. The Deben was looking glorious with a good sprinkling of craft proceeding up and down.

On the way up to Wilford Bridge…

After passing through Stoners Cut and heading down into the Rocks with wind on starboard I was forced to let fly jib sheet to luff up round a channel buoy as a twin masted yacht sailed on, regardless, on port tack with bags of space to his starboard (he was cutting buoy…). He waved apparently as he passed. I scowled. My Mate said, ‘You weren’t happy about that…’ An understatement!

I could have tacked earlier, but why should one have to guess a persons stupidity…

Sailing through Stoner’s Cut…

Anyway, the sail down to Felixstowe Ferry was without further incident…

The next gripe happened at Brightlingsea.

We’d berthed earlier and were having a pre-dinner glass when a commotion outside caught my attention. A motor cruiser was coming in down-wind with a young lass on the down-ward sloping deck trying to get ashore, opposite and astern of Whimbrel.

It all went wrong and the ‘river’ went ‘full’ ahead to try and turn. It was all far too late. His bow struck the pontoon and his stern wacked our stern mounted ladder, bounced and came down on the edge of the aft plank lands…

Ladder is now slightly off-set. The damage to transom, a dented plank end and cracked paint line has been repaired. Dent will always now be there.

I had to instruct the crew as to how to get themselves out of the mess whilst fending there craft from Whimbrel. He went to operate his engine. I stopped him: his out-drive was under our bilge…

They sorted themselves out. We waited for a visit. We waited a little longer. Eventually around 30 minutes after they had got safely moored we went round for a chat … to cut a long story short, I left the owner under no illusions as to what he should have done (in the nicest possible way) – pop round to other boat and apologise and ask if all is well.

He said, ‘I was going to come round…’ Yes, well, I don’t think so…

The last, which has hurt a little, was spotted on the noticeboard of the Colne Yacht Club. An advert with a picture of Whimbrel was advertising ‘her’ for sale. The picture wasn’t credited, but it at least said ‘like’ in a description of a vessel for sale.

I phoned the chap up and invited him to come along to the Finesse Rally evening at the CYC the coming Saturday – he said he would.

When we met he did apologise for using the picture … what he didn’t tell me was that the advert is posted at other yacht clubs, or, to me what s more unsavory, is on the web based Apolloduck sales site… The picture is in colour and clearly Whimbrel. There is nothing to say that the pictured boat is not the vessel for sale.

See: https://www.apolloduck.com/boat.phtml?id=529810

Never mind copyright rules … I’m close to being incensed.