Tag: Cornish Crabber

Winter maintenance

When Molly came ashore for the winter, I wanted to protect the mast from the worst of the weather. Withe the mast lowered, I was able to make wooden cruitches to support the top end, either side of the spreaders; the lower end sat comfortably through the tabernacle. Meanwhile Niki made a waterproof fabric cover for the mast which will keep wind and rain off not just the varnish, but also accommodates the jib on its carbon fibre furler and also the running rigging.

The list of winter jobs is not too long, but one I have been avoiding is the holding tank pump. This has not worked since we bought the boat and, though I can hear the pump run, it has no effect. It’s been no hardship to not use the holding tank but I’m expecting to need it next season and, besides it bothers me that it doesn’t work.

So, I emptied the port locker and removed the partitions to the electrical equipment and then the leisure battery for access. After a modest amount of wrestling, the “poo pump” was removed and dismantled (the model is called “Gulper”; this seems a very inappropriate name, given what it ingests!

There was good news and bad news at this point. The good news was that the reason for its lack of function was pretty obvious – it has four “tricuspid” valves that ensure the flow is in one direction only, and one pair of them had been fitted the wrong way around. Either it had been assembled incorrectly at the factory or else when the pump was installed on Molly (evidently never been used). The bad news was that the valves in the service kit I’d bought were the wrong size.

After an extra trip to the chandlery, the pump wax reassembled and tested by part-filling the holding tank with water and pumping out. Success! I celebrated by cleaning the prop. I tried vinegar to remove the calcified deposits last year but that was not very successful. This year, I tried HG descaler which worked much better. This evidently had a component which reacted with the timescale and softened it, making it easy to remove. All the other limescale removers I looked at in the supermarket seemed be mostly detergent. It’s clear the prop anode had been doing its job and needs replacing after just one season.

Hibernation time

Having been afloat for eighteen months, it was time for Molly to be hauled out. To protect the mast from the elements and enable maintenance of the wood and rigging, I dropped the mast. This is quite a straightforward process and uses elements of the existing rigging.

Having removed the sails, boom and gaff, I attached the mainsheet between the end of the bowsprit and the jib halyard. I rigged the bowsprit just forward of vertical and led the tail of the main sheet back to a winch. This gives a lot of purchase, and little force is required to ease the mast to horizontal. I made a wooden A-frame to support the mast at the stern and the mast dropped easily onto this. The rigged mast is heavy though, and it took three of us to ease the mast forward, so that the foot is near the bow, which reduces the overhang at the stern.

The haul out at our club is a meticulously organised process and Molly was tucked in among the other boats – you can see from the photos why it is not possible to raise or lower the mast once she is parked!

Return to the Solent

Having escaped from Chatham marina and made it around the corner of Kent, to Ramsgate, I only had two days to get home to Gosport. This meant two more long days in quick succession for John and I

After a late arrival in Ramsgate (and a short but pleasant evening), we made an early departure the following morning for Eastbourne, again in company with Brian of Puffin Bach.

We had spring tides and wanted to use them to best effect, though the timing was not too convenient. The main tidal gate was Dungeness, but without a particularly early reveille we could not make that with a fair tide. Puffin and Molly managed to leave before 7am and carry the fair tide down the coast past Dover. I put the main sail up, but it was not doing much and we didn’t bother with a jib.

When I arrived at a point two miles from Dover harbour, I radioed VTS to ask for permission to cross, and was told to pass at least a mile outside the harbour. I could see at least five cross channel ferries visually and on the AIS. The latter was really useful for deciding whether I would cross their track safely (ie behind them) and I changed course to ensure this. Evidently my judgement was not accurate enough for VTS, as they called me up and warned me that I would not pass far enough away from harbour, so I duly diverted further around. I did notice a small motor boat pass across the harbour only a few hundred metres out without radio contact, causing VTS to warn every vessel passing in or out, which made me feel better about my misjudgement! My lesson learned was that there is no point in passing close to South Foreland, due to the offing needed for Dover.

As we continued westward, the fair tide decreased and then turned against us. My plan was to pass close inshore after Folkestone, to minimise the foul tide, round Dungeness as close to the beach as possible and then continue in Rye bay out of the flood. It was a hot sunny day and the sea breeze began to fill in, giving us a reach and with the benefit of all sail as well as the iron topsail, we passed about 20m from the anglers on the shore and in nearly 20m of water. I hope we made an impressive sight!

Traversing the low-lying shore off Pett Level, the sedimentary cliffs rose up, leading to Fairlight and then Hastings and Bexhill. My wish to view the sea fronts of those familiar places was fulfilled this time, having been thwarted by poor visibility and rain on the outbound journey.

We reached Eastbourne’s Sovereign harbour almost exactly 12 hours after our departure from Ramsgate, at low tide. The evening was almost completely windless, with three optimistic yachts drifting on the bay. Approaching from the East with the evening sun in our eyes, the safe water mark and isolated danger marks could easily be confused by the unwary. Fortunately, being able to see the boilers of the Barn Hill wreck breaking the surface, the hazard was clear.

After what felt like a very long lock cycle (perhaps a little over sensitive after our experience at Chatham), followed by a stop at the fuel berth, we were no sooner moored, than Brian turned up. Once he was safely tied up, we made straight for the eateries and enjoyed a very nice Thai meal together. This was to be the parting of the ways, as Brian was intending to have a late start, whereas I had opted for a very early start in order to reach Gosport and home the following day.

We took the 0500 lock out and found an easterly breeze already blowing. I had timed our departure to catch the last of the ebb past Beachy Head; we made excellent time round our penultimate headland and set a course to pass just inside the Rampion wind farm off Brighton, towards Selsey Bill. This track was very deep downwind and we were not able to fly the jib, especially with the roll of the gentle swell. Molly got most of the way across Rye bay under engine and main before the tide began to turn back in our favour, and we gave the motor a rest on our approach to our last headland of the journey, Selsey Bill.

Molly passed through the Looe channel under sail, with the wind behind her and the full ebb of a spring tide, at about 7kt and entered her home waters of the Solent again. Passing the familiar landmarks of Chichester and Langstone harbour entrances, I couldn’t resist bearing off and gybing the last few miles with full sail, after all that time dead downwind. Meanwhile, we heard that High Barbaree, after various travails, had left Brighton that afternoon and would arrive in Gosport not long after us.

Molly arrived back on her home berth in the warm evening sun, after 65nm, a little over twelve hours after our departure from Eastbourne, 180 miles from the end of the rally in Chatham and almost 500 miles after last leaving Gosport. So it was John and I enjoyed a celebratory meal at the light ship in Gosport with Liz and Tim before putting Molly to bed for a rest, awaiting hopefully one or two more outings before winter ashore.

Westbound again

Following the OGA60 party and the East Coast cruise, Molly found herself in Chatham Martime Marina, on its heritage pontoon and with almost 200 miles to travel home. I had allowed 6 days for this passage, but circumstances intervened.

We had a sense that all was not well when we locked in to Chatham. We were given conflicting instructions by lock control, the lock was not operated efficiently (ie not full and boats waiting) and on one cycle, both sets of doors were opened at once, allowing a torrent to flow out of the lagoon.

The lock gates broke down on Friday, but we only learned of this when we tried to leave on Saturday. A sorry series of events ensued, during which the marina staff did not cover themselves in glory or demonstrate any particular urgency. We ended up contacting MDL’s head office, which seemed to stimulate events a little and, to cut a long story short, after four days trapped in Chatham marina, the lock gates were fixed and the fleet was able to escape on Tuesday. Suffice it to say that I will avoid MDL marinas in future.

The train of depressions, which the jet stream has been bowling us, had come to an end and we left the Medway with very welcome hot, sunny weather and light winds (ie finally, we started having August weather!). The forecast was for declining winds and I only had three days to compete Molly’s passage home to Gosport. I had been joined for this section by John Frampton, a fellow Cornish Crabber owner (Shrimper 21 to be precise).

Before we could travel West, we needed first to travel East. As we left the Medway, we were treated to flat seas and a steady southwesterly. John and I opted, rather than hugging the shore, to enjoy a good sail and visit some of the landmarks in the estuary.

We had a fair tide to carry us East, so we made for the main Princes Channel, taking in our first point of interest, which was the Red Sand Forts. These are steel structures were observation posts on legs attached to sunken barges, dating from WWII. They are one of a number of “Maunsell forts” (after their designer) whose original purpose was to provide warning of incoming aircraft and deter mine laying in the important Thames estuary. They continued to operate post-war and since their decommissioning have been sometime pirate radio stations.

Nowadays they make a striking but rather eerie and forlorn sight and appear to be deteriorating rapidly. There are moves to preserve them and I hope it comes to pass, as they are a unusual historical feature. Evidently they are a tourist attraction, as we could see visiting motor boats (in addition to yachts sailing close by).

During our tacks down the Thames estuary, we saw another set of Maunsell forts on the intruigingly named Shivering Sands, as well as skimming the edge of yet another array of wind turbines at Kentish Flats.

We passed along the outside of Margate sands at low tide, and could see groups of basking seals, though we dared not approach too closely in these very shallow waters.

Nearing North Foreland, as we lost the shelter of the land, the wind strength increased and the sea grew more choppy. Having passed this iconic corner and we were westbound again and, as John pointed out, we had the whole sea area from North Foreland to Selsey Bill to cover.

The wind was right on the nose, so we motored on main only into Ramsgate. We were followed by Puffin Bach and all of us rapidly decamped into town for some lovely fresh fish and chips, followed by a pint in the very friendly bar of Royal Temple Yacht Club.

OGA East Coast Cruise Part 2

Molly rafted in Chatham to *Emmanuel*, between *VIC96* on one side and *Puffin Bach* and *Plum of Mylor* on the other

Continuing our cruise from the Orwell to the Medway, taking in the Essex coast…

Wednesday night found us in the Swale, at Queenborough, a day earlier than expected. For the final leg of the cruise we had an interesting passage up the Medway to Chatham. The river is very industrial at the mouth, with many working (and some apparently derelict) commercial berths, mostly loading bulk goods. The river has a series of meandering bends and after the first, the river becomes much more rural.

The wind was very light and fluky, but I was determined to sail as much as possible. It was a very peaceful sail and sailing solo, I certainly had plenty of practice of single handed tacking of the foresails!

Eventually, we drew into Chatham which is approached around a large oxbow. We passed first a double commercial lock, and once around the bend the second, newer single lock into the marina on the opposite side of the loop. There are three connecting basins between these two sets of locks, though they are no longer navigable. This creates an “island” which is now a modern housing estate. The yacht marina within the eastern side is large and, as now seems to customary, lined with residential developments.

Nestling at the back of the marina, is the “heritage pier”, which predates the marina and is home to our host, the Chatham Maritime Trust. During our stay here, we were given tours of their restored wartime steam tug VIC 96, which was originally a victualling craft and, having languished as a display exhibit in Cumbria, has been restored to full working order and returned to its home.

Molly was rafted alongside a lovely 1924 30’ gaff cutter, Emanuel, fully restored by owners Jan and Robert Holden. This boat, whose mooring I had passed on my outbound visit to Sandwich, has made several historic voyages including a single handed passage to the Faeroes and Newfoundland in the 1930s. Her current custodians are understandably proud of her, and Jan was delighted to show us the immaculate interior which has been restored faithfully to the condition for those famous voyages.

Robert telling us Emanuel’s story. Note the cinque ports crest on her stern

The coat of arms of King George III at the entrance to the historic dockyard at Chatham

3 Slip, “the Big Space”, an amazing wooden building designed to be large enough to cover a ship in construction

During our stay, there were also tours of a local gin distillery available, though a few of us chose to visit the fascinating Historic Dockyard. This has amazingly well preserved architecture, including the last intact example of a rope walk (a building a quarter of a mile long), still working.

That evening marked the conclusion of the official rally, spent on deck of VIC 96, with a fish and chip supper.

I had been joined for the final section of the trip by fellow Solent sailor, John, who owns a shrimper 21 and was keen to sail a Crabber 26.

The forecast was not ideal, but we dropped our warps promptly at 0730, for our passage to Ramsgate, but I was struck dumb when I radioed for a lock out and was told tbd lock was broken! It transpired that the lock had malfunctioned the previous day and the marina told us it was due to be fixed that day. However, we heard different stories at different times and it emerged that this was not the first breakdown.

I found it unbelievable that a large marina (part of the MDL chain) would be rendered inoperable on a summer weekend and a complete lack of urgency to the repairs! Frustrating though this was, the Chatham Maritime Trust were very happy to accommodate us for the duration of our enforced stay, for which we were most grateful. Many owners had to leave their boats and return the following weekend to get them home.

We made the best of the waiting time, visiting each others’ boats and also returning to see more of the historic dockyard (the ticket is valid for a year). John and I enjoyed dinner aboard Windbreker courtesy of Else and Edgar, who have lived aboard for all 25 years of their marriage.

OGA East Coast Cruise part 1

The first section of Molly’s meander home would be with the OGA East Coast cruise, which had been arranged in part for the benefit of us visitors from further south. The object was to cross the Thames estuary and visit the Medway, after which we were to part ways.

The first day of the cruise was a passage race to the Walton Backwaters. Niki helmed in the light but gusty wind, picking our way out of the Orwell, past Felixstowe docks and across the shallow bay, to the entrance of “Secret Waters”. There was plenty of room in the Walton Channel for the fleet to anchor and the crews gathered on the beach at Stone Point.

Looking back to Felixstowe docks as we leave the Orwell

In stark contrast to the weather of the last few days, it was a beautiful golden evening. We had brought barbecue packs prepared by the cafe at Suffolk Marina, as well as bottles of the celebratory “Old Gaffer” beer and we all had stories to share; I was particularly interested to chat to those who had participated in the Round Britain Challenge. Several of these were local and had in effect finished, whereas others still had some way until completion – the furthest being Helford River in Cornwall.

The shore at Stone Point is sandy and ideal for coming ashore, but progressively becomes mud up the channel. Brian noticed that Puffin Bach had been anchored ambitiously shallow and was now aground. He was concerned that if he didn’t make a dash for it, there might not be enough water to even get the tender to it, so he made a swift exit. I helped him carry his dinghy down to the water’s edge, but unfortunately we had not noticed that everyone carried their dinghy to the sandy point to launch and we were soon squelching in the mud. When Brian had been successfully launched, I realised that my feet were firmly held by the mud and I promptly fell over in the black sticky ooze, much to the amusement of the rest of the fleet! The evidence of that slip would take several days to remove from clothes and boat…

The following day was a passage race to West Mersea, down “The Wallet”. Conditions were brisk and we set out on first reef, making excellent progress. The wind continued to build and as we beat into the mouth of the Blackwater conditions became rather challenging, so in the end we abandoned racing and used the engine to maintain boat speed and enable us to point higher.

Daisy Belle with Gunfleet wind turbines behind

A number of the fleet found conditions too challenging, turning and running downwind to shelter. Those of us that made it to Mersea were given moorings at West Mersea Yacht Club and ferried ashore for a well-earned chilli ashore.

The next day had been planned as sailing in the Blackwater, returning to the moorings in the evening. However a decision was taken to grab a weather window of fair winds to cross the Thames estuary and enter the Medway. Unfortunately, Niki was not able to join me on this leg, so I made the journey solo.

I dropped Niki at the yacht club pontoon and took the opportunity to pack the tender up into the locker. Motor-sailing into the Blackwater, although the wind was pretty non-existent, the ebbing tide carried me out.

Molly’s rigging was covered in strands of spider silk the night we moored at West Mersea

Looking at a chart of the Thames Estuary, it is littered with obstructions and marks but the experience of being out on it is, of course just a wide expanse of water. I made my way some seven miles out, to take the Wallet Spitway between Buxey and Gunfleet sands.

By this time, the wind was beginning to fill in and I was at last able to switch off the engine. It was a peaceful sail in full sunshine – the sort of summer day which has been in short supply this year. As I progressed passed Foulness Sand, with explosions very much visible and audible from the MoD test centre, the wind continued to fill and it became a beautiful reach. By this time, I had caught up with the fleet (they had not used engine early on), which made a lovely sight spread across water.

Daisy Belle passing a Thames Barge, both in full sail

I turned towards our destination down Middle Deep and it was a leisurely beat, but the tide had begun to turn in my favour. The final hurdle was to cross the Thames’ main shipping channel. I was fortunate that there was little traffic as I crossed, bringing us to the Medway river entrance. The wide commercial harbour was devoid of traffic, so there was plenty of space to drop sails before entering our mooring at Queenborough.

Queenborough is on the river Swale, so this was my seventh river of the trip (and I hope to add at least one more before reaching home again). We all rafted onto just two large mooring buoys and made an impressive sight in the afternoon sun. There was time for leisurely drinks and nibbles aboard Daisy Belle and Windbreker; we then cooked our evening meal aboard, before ferrying ashore in tenders, to the pub.

Continues in part 2…

Look behind you! *Plum* was not so lucky with the traffic, crossing Princes channel

Molly approaching the Medway (thanks to Colin of Plum for the photo)

OGA diamond jubilee party

The party to mark 60 years of the OGA (association for gaff rigged sailing) took place in two halves. Celebrations kicked off right in the centre of Ipswich with all the cruising boats moored together at Ipswich Haven Marina. A series of organised events were available but Huw (who had sailed with me from Ramsgate), joined by his wife Maggie, and I enjoyed a sunny sail down the Orwell to the docks and back.

Rafted to Nancy Blackett, locking in to Ipswich marina

The two evening gatherings were lively affairs in a local deconsecrated church. Gaffers are an unruly lot and the briefing was very much a “herding cats” scenario. The main event of the second day was a parade of sail, in which all of the cruising boats were to process down the Orwell to Suffolk Yacht Harbour at Levington, joined by all the trailer sailers who would sail up from Suffolk Yacht Harbour to meet us for the second half of the party.

Ipswich lock was opened on free flow, after a large cargo vessel had turned about in the narrow commercial port, and we all made our way down to the Orwell road bridge. The fleet was divided up into a number of “squadrons” in order to help the boats, which varied enormously in size and type, to stay in some sort of formation.

Parade forming up under the Orwell Bridge

Molly on a mooring as the procession forms up

In the deluge! (you can see a torrent of water pouring off our reef)

Molly was among the early boats to leave harbour, with Niki and Alice aboard as well as Solent friends Grant and Amanda. We picked up a mooring below the bridge and watched the procession forming, before taking our own place. The day started as a lovely summer day with light winds and a few puffy clouds drifting by.

The weather changed though; as the procession got going, a bank of ominous cloud approached. We could clearly see a line of rain advancing towards us. However we were unprepared for the intensity of the deluge that arrived, complete with thunder and lightning, though fortunately no strong winds. The fleet continued undaunted and eventually the rain eased for the protracted process of getting all the boats squeezed into the Suffolk Yacht Harbour for the second half of the party.

Sadly, the next day was filled with heavy rain and very light winds, followed by strong winds the day after. Molly’s crew skipped the racing and we all had a pleasant day in Woodbridge. The evening entertainments were not dampened by the weather, with live music, an open mic and several interesting talks. By this time, the crews from boats small or large and from all regions were well-mixed, and swapping stories.

Replica Saxon longboat made, using measurements from the Sutton Hoo dig, as well as period correct (as far as known) techniques and materials

Sailing to the East coast 3: Crossing the Thames estuary

The wavy jet stream has been bowling low pressure systems at us one after another and we three boats from the Solent have been obsessively poring over weather forecasts, waiting for a gap to allow us to complete the final leg of our journey, from Ramsgate in Kent across the Thames estuary to Suffolk. My plan had been to spend some time on the Suffolk rivers, but these plans were now abandoned and I was just hoping for a suitable day to cross before our party in Ipswich.

The three boats in question were Huw and myself on Molly, Liz and Tim on High Barbaree (Cornish Crabbers Pilot Cutter 30) and Brian on Puffin Bach (Tamarisk 24). We decided our window had come after two very windy days in Ramsgate and set off determined to stay together in a gusty SW F5.

Puffin Bach and High Barbaree making for North Foreland under jib and engine

We initially had jib only with engine and ran north along the chalky coast past Broadstairs and the iconic North Foreland, into the wide mouth of the Thames. The main landmarks were the huge Thanet wind farm close by, with the London array visible in the distance. The latter was our target and pass through this grid of turbines to cross Foulgers Gat, a passage between one of many sand banks in the Thames estuary.

We had been promised a decreasing wind by the forecast, but that was not to be. Huw and I decided that raising the main would ease the uncomfortable motion of that confused water. What a difference it made! We cut much more easily through the chop between the turbines on double reefed main and jib. As we emerged into Black Deep, the main shipping channel, it was clear we were leaving behind Puffin Bach, sailed solo by Brian. On a broad reach at that point, we tacked back round to him then tacked once more onto to our original course.

Huw at the helm, as we sailed through London array wind farm

We switched from jib to staysail, in order to match pace with the smaller boat and continued north. However the gusty wind increased in strength and veered to NE, right on the nose. This forced us to drop our sails and motor right into it. Thus ensued a quite uncomfortable period with some very steep chop right on our beam.

The first sign of the Suffolk shore was the distinctive silhouette of the cranes at Felixstowe, long before we could make out the actual land. At long last we closed with the shore, crossed the Medusa shallows and entered the mouth of the Orwell. Conditions were still pretty lively so Huw and I dropped our plans to anchor for the night and chose the shelter of Shotley marina.

Locking in to the serenity of this harbour in the shadow of great container ships in Felixstowe, we enjoyed corned beef hash aboard High Barbaree for dinner, after which we returned aboard Molly and our heads barely touched the pillows before our eyes closed.

OGA60: prologue

I have explored the Stour in our previous boat Aurora, a Cape Cutter 19 and I wanted to repeat a passage I had made to the navigable limit at Manningtree. The crews of the three boat that sailed from the Solent congregated on Molly with an objective to visit Stour Sailing Club for a pint.

It was surprisingly rough at Harwich as we left the shelter of the marina and motored into the teeth of the wind. “It’s a shame we didn’t come in summer”, Brian commented ironically.

As we progressed up river, it gradually became less choppy. We were crossed by a yacht beating up river and also admired a number of sail boarders. We also passed a large barge on its way downstream shortly before we reached its departure point at Mistley, the point where the river shows all drying green on the chart.

Manningtree is the navigable limit of the river Stour

At this point it was necessary to weave more slowly, seeking out the channel of deeper waters. Guided by the line of moored boats and a few channel buoys we approached quay at Manningtree. At first there seemed no room, but the sailing dinghies and their rescue boats were moved aside for our benefit and we moored up behind another visiting yacht.

Hesitating outside the Stour SC clubhouse, the door opened and we were beckoned in by a member, clearly used to visitors “on the clock”. We had arrived at high tide, but our stay would be brief!

We quickly signed in and had a round of drinks, made very welcome guests in the club, before I had to usher the crew back to Molly. Not a moment too soon, we reversed our course and gingerly retraced our steps back to Mistley. I’m sure if we had stayed only 10 minutes more, we could have been trapped by the falling tide.

Once in the deeper water, we could dispense with the engine and ran back on jib only. After a much calmer trip back, we locked back into Shotley marina before another pleasant evening aboard High Barbaree.

Sailing to the East Coast 2: Dover, Sandwich and Ramsgate

Having reached Dover, and with a couple of days of bad weather approaching, I made for Sandwich. When I was planning this trip, I particularly wanted to visit because of the cruise up the creek. This particular river, the Stour, shares its name with my home town, Stourbridge, as well as a counterpart in Suffolk we were on our way to visit.

*Molly* and *Delphyn*, a Contessa leaving Dover

I left Dover with a Dutch Contessa yacht that I would meet again further down the line. We both followed port control instructions to leave via the busy eastern entrance to the harbour. With strong winds and a foul tide, I used engine and staysail to pass the famous white cliffs and along the shore of the low-lying land north of Deal.

The entrance to the river Stour was easy enough to find and the channel well buoyed. I had timed my arrival for an hour before high tide and this gave me plenty of time and depth to get into the river proper. The least depth I saw in the entrance was around 3m, though the main channel in the river was at least 4m.

I’m sure the channel buoy shouldn’t be like that!

I motored past argumentative terns with young, several large groups of seals and many species of wetland birds. The town of sandwich is about 2 miles inland, reached by nearly 5 miles of winding river. I passed two large boat yards and the huge Pfizer pharmaceutical complex, eventually arriving at the lovely town of Sandwich.

The town quay is lined with wooden posts, against which visitors lie, and gives easy access to the town. Sandwich is a very historic place with many buildings dating back to medieval, Norman or Saxon times. I enjoyed a lazy couple of wet and windy days here, exploring the narrow streets. I particularly enjoyed a visit the the small independent cinema, a family run enterprise.

Aptly named street name, given the weather!

The tides are odd here, with the water continuing to flow in for some time after high water, indicating Thanet is still an island, even though the river is much silted up. The friendly harbour master recommended leaving “when you can see the water has just stopped ebbing”. That’s only two and a half hours before high water. In the event, when I left, the water had started to flow in and to turn Molly around, I gently motored her bow into the reeds on the opposite bank and let the flow turn her. I was then able to motor away.

What sort of terns are these? Sandwich terns!

My next leg was a short hop down to Ramsgate to meet two other gaffers heading East from the Solent for the OGA party in Ipswich. The forecast was not looking good and we were waiting for a gap in the weather to make a break across the Thames estuary.

One of the boats, High Barbaree, I’d sailed aboard previously. She’s a Cornish Crabber Pilot Cutter 30, owned by Tim and Liz. The other was unfamiliar to me – a Tamarisk 24 called Puffin Bach. Skipper Brian appeared just at the right time as I entered harbour and took a line for me; I was also cordially greeted by Barbara from Delphyn, the Dutch Contessa that had left Dover at the same time as Molly and who were also waiting for a gap in the weather.

Meanwhile Huw arrived; he had come to sail the next leg with me,. The Solent Crew had a pleasant lunch aboard High Barbaree, during which I invited invited everyone for dinner aboard Molly.

Dinner (well, dessert at that stage) aboard *Molly*

A second very windy day was passed, followed by a very entertaining evening aboard Puffin Bach, with Brian at the Primus stove.