Rain. Lots of it. A brief, but dense shower woke us all & peppered us throughout breakfast. There was a fierce competition as to how many people could fit inside ‘Corsair’, under cover. Eventually we realised it was futile, broke camp & set off to Wroxham.
This week, it seemed every S.o.B & his wife was out on the river – it was mayhem. As we approached Wroxham bridge, we were VERY glad to have stopped & left ‘F’ on a mudweight on Salhouse Broad.
As a side-note, ‘Corsair’ has an ingenious folding bracket which holds the outboard motor. Sadly this also means that it folds itself when you go hard astern… so in confined manoeuvres we go VERY slowly & hope nothing pulls out in front of us.
Teaching the tourists some anglo-saxon – we made a swift stern mooring, and were safely tucked up outside the coffee shop (oh no, of all the spots to pick!)
Hot showers suitably revived us, and special attire (lord knows what that means – Ed.) was donned in advance of ‘PollyWog’ joining us.
One brief & quite shouty evasive manoeuvre later, both ‘Corsair’ & ‘PollyWog’ escaped un-scathed despite the best efforts of ‘Queen of the Broads’ (!)
On the way to Horning – ‘F’ was recovered, whilst ‘Corsair’ went on, and moored outside the sailing club again – to allow us to raise sail, before leisurely heading to Ranworth. Almost immediately the wind fell to a flat calm. (bugger).
30 mins of quanting later, we’re huffing/puffing past the Ferry Inn, when Billy (in search of baccy) discovers he’s left his jacket at Horning Sailing Club. (Groan!).
Ten minutes of full-chat outboard later, we’re back at the sailing club, thankfully someone has kept the jacket safe having spotted it. (phew!) We’d left ‘Polly’ & ‘F’ to complete their slow drift to Malthouse Broad. We, on the grounds of likely mutiny chose to motor…
As the evening drew in, with a choc-a-block staithe, we simply waited until the ferry stopped running before putting all 3 craft in the dayboat dyke. (simple!), before scarpering to the Maltsters.
Mostly uneventful, we went to bed, gratified by the sound of a tourist falling in…
Night.
A Broadsman 