Last night there was rain, not your average ‘oh dear it’ll do the garden good’ rain… but biblical, bouncing off the cabin roof deluge.
Still – could be worse!
Truthfully my first conscious memory of the day was to see Mr Jalil storming indignantly out of the cabin (whilst still in his sleeping bag) muttering something about “Mr Farrow & his so called waterproof boat” (!)
Needless to say, he slept the rest of the evening in the cockpit – a miserable experience. ‘Corsair’s’ benches are just under 6ft long, and work ideally as seats – but not beds!
Sated with a cooked breakfast (these engineers are so very tempremental) we decided to keep our cut-down rig and sedately proceeded upriver to Potter Heigham, where with ice cream & burgers we lunched with CD & co.
Having quanted through both bridges – we were treated at this juncture to the sight of several Hunter’s yachts scattering themselves across the river.
Evidently trying to ‘shoot’ the bridges, some had masts down, some halfway up, some just were a tangle of legs, string & quants… We noted all of them were ‘uptide’ of the new bridge (how brave!)
Eventually, we set sail upriver toward Hickling, sliding along as we tacked through the bungalows to Kendal Dyke.
Here we were treated to a bit of champagne sailing, the wind had filled in to a steady sea breeze and ‘Corsair’ stormed across Hickling, narrowly beating local YBOD ‘Monarch’
By now we felt truly ‘on holiday’ – Jalil managed to dry his bunk mattress in the evening sunshine, and as we were moored in the aforementioned sun, we sipped at Cab. Sauv. whilst writing this.
Afterwards in the wake of a spectacular sun-set we ventured ‘up the road’ to the Grayhound P.H. The skies were fantastic, purple even!
It’s a hard life…
Night.
A Broadsman 