Jib-booms and bobstays! Secret Water galoots

The alarm went off at 4:30 as set. I wasn't as rested as I'd hoped. The water around us was much more crowded than when we had anchored - most of the boats who had gone to Stone Point had moved over to escape the difficult Walton Channel.

I got the anchor up and ended up with my hands covered in mud. Alison motored us round towards the outbound channel and offered me a bucket to wash my hands. She lifted the cockpit hatch to get the bucket out and the folding seat she had been using flew overboard.

It floated and she did a 360° turn to catch it. I said “you are miles away from it” and she said “the tide will take it down”, which of course, it didn’t as the tide was taking us down equally quickly. Something we should have taken more note of at the time.

Alison went round again and missed it again.

The third time, I gave explicit instructions and Alison followed them to the letter and we brought up with the seat by the cockpit and I lifted it in.

And we heard a clunk and a scratching sound.

The tide had taken us down onto Transcur’s bow, and we had both been so intent watching the seat that we hadn’t been looking to port at all. The sound we had heard was her bowsprit running gently along the cabin roof and the hatch.

The bobstay was fending us off her bow.

Pete was up in a moment, followed by Claire. Inanda was rafted on Transcur’s starboard beam and Pete got Claire to drop her back out of the way while he reefed the bowsprit, freeing us up and letting us drop round to where Inanda had been where we could motor off again.

It was all over in about 2 minutes and no real damage done to either boat, but we both felt really stupid. I was the day’s skipper and Alison was helm, so we shared the blame for not keeping lookout pretty equally. As Nancy would have said, galoots, both of us.

We headed out of the channel and I washed my hands in the bucket and we got the sails up. We turned the motor off as we passed the No 2 buoy and were officially racing.

You call this racing?

From the weather forecast I was expecting a re-run of the last time we started a race down the Stour from Wrabness. Then we had drifted across the start line and had to give up an hour later before we got to the Erwarton cardinal as the tide had turned. This time it was a little better. All the boats got moving OK but we missed our customary good start because Drum of Drake got to windward of us and acted like a skyscraper, leaving a huge wind hole. The boats like Reverie, with light wind sails, screamed off down river, leaving us to tussle with Otter, who matches our speed quite closely, despite being a much lighter, very early Cornish Crabber (no 44).

Reverie and her Mark Butler 'special' multi-purpose sail

 Then, near the buoy called Ramsay, the wind went lighter and we were only just stemming the tide. I put this frustrating picture on Facebook.

 It wasn't long before we decided to give up and put the motor on. When we got a little further down river we discovered that the wind had dropped there too, catching My Quest, Rely, Drum of Drake and many other little ships in the tide by Felixstowe. Then we saw Charm heading in to Suffollk Yacht Harbour and worked out she must have finished the course and be heading home, rather than to Walton. We found out later that Robert and Lorna are going to Lil Edwards funeral tomorrow. I'm glad someone from the gaffers is going, I will miss Lil and feel very sorry for Barry, having to manage without her.

We motored out past Harwich breakwater and then the wind filled in again and we had a nice sail into Hamford Water where we anchored again. Lots of crews went over to Stone Point for a drink on the beach but we cooked some dinner and had another quiet evening. We worked out that we needed to get up at 4:30 am to have any chance of getting to West Mersea for the packing shed lunch so we tried to get an early night.

Paradise, almost

I try to keep work and sailing separate, and this is the boat's log, not my blog, but I thought for once I would put in something a little more personal. The weather is perfect, the river is beautiful and today's cruise was idyllic. So why am I depressed and unsociable?

I was forwarded an email today from a friend who works in the department I applied for a job in. The manager announced on Friday that the other candidate would be joining in August. Apart from being about the 26th internal job I've failed to get, this is the second one recently where the hiring manager has not had the courtesy to tell me I was not successful before announcing the outcome in public.

I'm also not happy with the boat. The new sails are setting well and I seem to have reduced the problem with the gaff saddle to a managable level. I think we are sailing her competently. We are still the slowest boat by a large margin. The new larger sails do help. Instead of losing sight of the fleet, we drop slowly behind until we are at the back.

Part of the problem with the boat is the perfect weather. Stronger winds would help. They would also make me work harder and contemplate less.

Gentle Sailing

Drum of Drake

Today was a gentle sail from Ipswich to Wrabness. We beat down the Orwell in the company of the beautiful schooner Drum of Drake and the annoyingly fast My Quest.

It was well worth getting the sail up despite the light winds; much more restful than having an engine thumping away.

My Quest

At Wrabness we got the sail down and stooged around looking for a good place to anchor and eventually dropped the hook bang on low water, right by the drying spit with about 2' under the keel. We still put out over 15 fathoms of chain - we didn't want a repetition of our previous visit.

In the evening we went ashore for the briefing for the Pennyhole Bay race. There was some fine music making going on and a grand bonfire but we were both feeling the need for a little down time and we rowed back to Robinetta for a quiet evening. Our timing was excellent as we avoided getting wet during the overnight thunderstorm

Silly Games

The Classics' Ipswich Regatta was its normal zany self. The morning was dull and cool. A very welcome change from last year. The marina was really crowded. Many shortcuts were used from one pontoon to another across the rafts of boats.

One small innovation was that the Rubber Flubber Football was an 'international' match, between the Netherlands and the Rest of the World. Amazingly, the teams had orange and yellow armbands indicating which team they were on. Now all we need is for the team members to know which end they are defending and we might have a real competition.

The regatta was very much a dry run for doing the same thing at the big party in Cowes and so some rules were introduced as an experiment. I think we are a little worried the assembled gaffers might not quite 'get' this East Coast phenomenon.

The boat dog competition was also a bit more formal than usual. Luckily, the stalwart crew of Annabel J showed that newcomers could get into the spirit of the event with gusto.

The pontoon party was enlivened by one of the sponsors, Adnams. Free Beer!

Arrival at Ipswich

Rowed out to the boat from the Orwell Yacht Club and motored in to Ipswich. Arrived in the lock with a huge gin palace at the back of the lock and a sailing boat rafted to it and expecting to take our lines. In the front of the lock was Minstrel and the new Moonstone IX, David and Persephone’s grandchildren having outgrown the sleeping accommodation in Moonstone VIII. In between Moonstone and the gin palace? Two boat lengths of unused pontoon! We squeezed around the outside of the unnecessary raft and tied up to the pontoon.

We were given a great spot in the marina, in between Kajan and Moonstone. There was a bit of wind pushing us in towards the quay-side and we were glad of help on the pontoon to warp us in. Robinetta’s high sides are a weak point under these conditions.

I had another go at fixing the sea toilet and it seems good this time. Then I got the bunting on while Alison legged it back down to Fox’s where we had left the car.

At 4pm we assembled in the Customs House for the Mayoral reception. I dressed up a bit – white shirt, pale linen trousers and an old flannel charcoal suit jacket. The gaffers have never seen me so smart! Mary Blake, the deputy mayor was very honest about how little research she had done about the event, it could have gone badly wrong but she got away with it and we had a great time.

I had a good chat with Jay who runs the Maritime Ipswich events. He is very frustrated because ABP keep blocking his ideas for events on the water due to ‘health and safety’. As this included them preventing the Coast Guard from demonstrating a helicopter rescue, it seems yet another example of HSE inspired craziness. I told him about Mistley Quay where there is a serious dispute between the quay owners, the local residents and boaters and health and safety is being abused as an excuse for behaviour reminiscent of 17th century enclosures.

In the evening we had a fine barbecue at the Last Anchor with a great band and renewed old acquaintances and made new ones. It was great to see many boats I had first seen in Belfast and Loch Melfort arriving in Ipswich, having navigated the Caledonian Canal and the east coasts of Scotland and England, or in the case of Annabel J, having been all the way to Shetland via Orkney.

Thankyou Andy Murray

We made some time for a sail today. It is quite a long row from the Orwell Yacht Club to our temporary mooring but it was the perfect day for it. We raised sail on the mooring and sailed off it in very light airs. The wind kept filling in and then dying away. It seemed to veer and back a lot two but I think it was mostly just different in different parts of the river.

By the time we got to Woolverstone it was definately blowing up the river and we had to beat down to Pin Mill. A lovely experience. Alison fancied lunch at the Butt and Oyster so we picked up a mooring right next to Andy and Fiona busy painting Electron's topsides. We found out it is Gladys' mooring, so we made sure we didn't hang on it too long. Gladys is Gus Curtis' Leigh Bawley. Gus runs Harry King's boatyard.

The Butt and Oyster was doing good business but was unusually quiet for a Sunday lunchtime. Almost certainly because so many people were watching the Wimbledon final. It certainly made our lunch very pleasant and quick.

I had a 1/2 pint of Adnams Fat Sprat amber ale with my roasted cod, mash, broccoli and peas. Alison had a cider with her belly pork and sweet potato chips. All yummy.

We saw the Thomases go down to the hard and met Pete as we walked Worm back towards the rapidly receding tide. Pete was carrying my razor around just in case he saw us! (I'd left it at Robert and Lorna's place in Loch Melfort). Luckily Alison also remembered we hadn't paid for the Wrabness BBQ so exchanges were duly made and we rowed back to Robinetta. Must remember to wish Pete a happy birthday tomorrow.

We sailed back up to the mooring on jib and staysail. The wind had got quite strong and we didn't want to get there quickly, it was just too nice! The boat on the left is a new friend from the Orwell Yacht Club who helped us through the gate.

From the mooring to Pin mill is 21/2 miles. Not exactly the longest day sail. But with such light airs it was just right.

The Orwell is a beautiful river and it was a truly beautiful day.

We did a little maintenance and relaxed for a while on the mooring and got back to the Orwell Yacht Club around low water. There really is very little water in the creek and all the boats were aground. We picked our way back to the pontoon and popped Worm back where she lives, for the moment.