Heading Home

The Hog Roast ended with nothing left but the bones by half six, and the Old Gaffers started to drift back to their boats. We wanted to be away as soon as we could since we were heading back to West Mersea, not Brightlingsea, but we had to wait for the boats outside to leave first.

Quintet had had some problems coming in, since she had not reversed when she should, and when Clive tried to motor off from outside us he discovered that something had gone wrong with the engine-gear box linkage. We waited until the whole raft ahead had left, then with a lot of help from people ashore and Steve Meakin in a rubber flubber with outboard Quintet was moored against the pontoon ahead.

We ran down the Colne in company with Black Rose a large gaff ketch and almost kept up on full main and staysail. We rigged a preventer in case of an accidental gybe, but never needed it, and once we were in sight of Bateman's Tower we flew the jib and picked up speed. We were managing four knots with the tide under us, but it would be against us once we turned up the Blackwater, so we thought we'd need the engine to get home at any reasonable time.

We passed Bateman's tower at 2025, and the ketch headed in to Brightlingsea, leaving us the only sailing boat we could see. The wind was quite light so we raised the top sail the instant we gybed onto the starboard tack, just before Colne no8, then had an absolutely wonderful sail up the Blackwater in very gentle swell. We were only making 2-3 knots over the ground, but it felt like we were making good progress so we put off putting on the engine as long as we could. The wind kept decreasing though, and when our speed dropped below 2 knots we had to give up, and turn the engine on.

It was already gone 2130 and the light was going, so I got all the sails down, and stowed while Julian helmed. We could just about pick out the Nass Beacon once we found its light, (quick flashing white three), and we were very glad of the clear sky and half moon as we picked our way between the moorings in Mersea Quarters and Thorn Fleet.

Once we got to the piles at the start of the Ray Channel Julian started to have problems seeing where he was going. The bright moon light caste reflections of the pilings on the surface of the water, but that surface was totally flat, and practically invisible, so the piles just looked incredibly tall. Nothing moved except us, our engine and some disturbed sea birds made the only sound....

Then I got the boat hook out and the head torch on, so we could find our mooring buoy. We were safely moored at 2250, and glad to be there. We packed up as fast as we could, got our belongings into Worm, and I rowed us ashore after a challenging and greatly enjoyable weekend's sailing.