Tag: Thames

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.

Puffin Bach passin back up the Medway

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).

John at the helm

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.

Windbreker at the Red Sand Forts

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).

Shivering Sand forts

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.

Kentish Flats wind farm

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.

Margate sands complete with seals

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.

Puffin Bach entering Ramsgate
The arches on Ramsgate Harbour
Sailing to the East coast 3: Crossing the Thames estuary

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.

Passing Broadstairs
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.

High Barbaree and Puffin Bach

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.

Molly and High Barbaree in Shotley