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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Meandering Molly 