Thinking back – I can’t quantify how lucky I was, in terms of the friendship & support I enjoyed through the sailing fraternity – and there’s no better example than ‘Corsair’s’ 60th birthday weekend. I’m truly lucky in that respect.
As you’re aware, sadly I had started the weekend by leaving ‘TOG’ on Reedham Quay, her impellor was knackered & sadly the parts just wouldn’t arrive in time for her to race. So ‘Corsair’ headed to Somerleyton, complete with her birthday present from Joe & Julia; 36 pints of gorgeous local beer complete with our personalised pump clip!
Conditions weren’t ideal, this race is always a passage race from Somerleyton to Beccles, and sadly this year both wind & tide were set to be ‘foul’, strong SW & a prolonged ebb tide. Undeterred, we set off having prepared a nourishing breakfast of strong cider (just the thing for a crack racing team, all the America’s Cup lads do the same y’know!)
Sadly although our entry to the R.P race itself was stylish – having started stormed upriver in a strong breeze which saw ‘Corsair’ surging along, we had to retire at Burgh St. Peter, due to an increasing amount of water in the bilge – and it became apparent that the bilge pump wasn’t doing its job. Until that point though, she looked fantastic, and was powering upwind;
(later it turned out the battery was a dud. Dull to mention it, but for me it meant another big outlay, I remember the £80 for a new one dug me a little deeper into my overdraft)
Falling on our sword, we instead defaulted to party-mode – by the time we’d reached Beccles we know longer knew or cared that much about the race. The celebratory keg of beer proved a big hit, as the party grew so the waterline dropped lower & lower, eventually spilling people out onto neighbouring boats.
Our party continued upstream to Geldeston, and then for another 24 hours. I’ll admit that the log-book is ‘light’ on detail (!). I do remember an absolute champagne sail downstream from Beccles – that BH Monday. The tide was fair (even if the wind wasn’t). A friend managed some fantastic photographs of us just downstream of Beccles heading toward Aldeby stumps.
By using the quant through the more tree-lined section, you can cover a reasonable amount of distance that way even with just 1 person. Co-incidentally it’s alot less work than lugging the engine onto its bracket for a couple of reaches.
Using the quant, and every last puff of air – progress is certainly not quicker than the outboard, but it’s far more satisfying, giving you time to focus. Not to mention its incredible rewarding!
By late afternoon, we’d convened at Somerlyton again, and I realised what a perfect weekend it’d been. I was just doing what you should, celebrating an old boat in the sunshine with good friends.
Coming back to earth with a bump, the weekend finished with Joe & myself reassembling ‘TOG’s’ engine on Reedham quay, celebrating of course… with more beer!
It looked like the move onto the southern rivers was going to be a great success – ‘Corsair’ certainly seemed at home. Our season stretched ahead of us with a full calendar of regattas to enjoy.
Day 3 started with rain. Lots of it. It drummed on the awning and slowly but persistently it revealed all of the deak-leaks. Annoyingly most are above our bunks!
It’s pointless staying in a damp bunk – so over breakfast various damp people from the fleet discussed our destination. No longer was it Geldeston, we’d motor down the Waveney and head for Cantley.
All of this was discussed over a nutritious meal of bacon rolls, and ‘hair of the dog’ Strongbow… design specifications had been exceeded last night. (!)
Following this decision, there was a flurry of activity as tents were folded, masts lowered and every inch of space used to stow gear. ‘Corsair’s’ forepeak was crammed, to the point we’d not get the mast back up ever again…
The outboard decided to break its fuel system at this point – thanks to Chief Engineer Jalil for sorting this (note promotion from Petty Officer!). As we left, we were definitely at the back of the fleet, and all of us soaked.
As ‘Corsair’ towed ‘Nulsec’ downriver a lucrative card-school was hosted in the cabin, the stakes were 2p a bet. All was well until some fool (James) lost his winnings.
Periodically these gambling, drinking swines would come to inquire as to the skippers well-being…
(It took years to find all the 2p coins in the bilges!!!)
As we motored downriver – those swines drank ALL the booze!
In the New Cut – bizarrely we realised that on our tail was ‘Herbie’ we weren’t last! Simon & Sarah were hustling along. Herbie was a 12ft Fibrocell dinghy, but was sporting an Evinrude 20hp on the back! There was nothing but a flurry of spray, a bow-wave and two soggy looking people!!
Fastest dinghy in the East… Or West…
‘Corsair’ and ‘Nulsec’ moored at Reedham Street (to replenish the booze!), and we kept an eye to see if ‘Nulsec’ would sink again. She didn’t, and we managed to get all the sails up, to head upriver for Cantley.
Even the repaired rudder behaved itself!! Both craft enjoyed some champagne sailing up the Yare, to the extent that ‘Corsair’ carried on up with the last of the flood to the Beauchamp Arms…
We moored to a fishing platform – tiptoed ashore as the water swelled the banks and had a well-earnt pint.
Our stolen pint.
Returning to Cantley kept us on our toes, but we’d drifted off (literally). Flush with success we poured ourselves some room temperature Gins and drifted back in the early evening sun.
Almost civilised!
The weather hadn’t finished with us, a ‘roger’ belted into us just upstream of Langley – shitshitshitSHIT, helm down, let go sheets, no good the booms in, HOLD ON!
Somehow – Robert in his role as official reporter coolly held his nerve (and his drink) and photographed how far we were over;
Damp bunks… Again.
Suitably chastened – with split Gins and frayed nerved we returne to Cantley
Quick phone call sorted extra beds. So 4 lucky souls will sleep aboard on ‘The Only Girl’ (S/N137) for the night.
In the meantime though, the morning’s hangovers we discarded, who cares! the pub, the pub!!
Sorry. As ever my ambitions to write regularly get thrown aside. However – a lot of the distraction has been sailing the boat, which is no bad thing.
‘Corsair’ had her topsail set recently. It’s the only sail remaining from the 1978 suit. To be honest I’ve never set a topsail on her before. In the true spirit of all ‘well thought’ out decisions, I dug the topsail out of my loft on the Thursday evening, rigging it Friday evening (on the quant pole in lieu of a proper spar) – and then raced with it on the Saturday morning.
It’s important to spend time on well founded (funded) development… (!)
The only down-side, was that the new mainsail doesn’t set quite ‘right’ with the old topsail. I’m considering narrowing the topsail by about 3 inches, which should allow the peak to sit better.
Also – using the quant as a topsail spar – it worked, kind of… Ultimately the sail needs its own spar, as the quant did bend. In fact I’m curious to see if a better spar will allow me to peak up the required amount.
Oh, and having put the boat in the reeds to get the rig up, you know what I needed to get out? The sodding quant…
In short – James had sunk, we’d got pissed, and then some dubious sailing had occurred. Situation normal really!
Day 2 – Cruise 2009.
There was a strange sense of de ja vu about the early morning at Somerleyton… The skipper shuffled through the cockpit, en-route to get the kettle going. A cursory glance astern. BOLLOCKS!
‘Nulsec’ had caught up on the quay, and as the tide fell, she had reached an unnatural angle of heel. The bugger would capsize any moment. A flurry of hungover people came busting out of various craft up and down the bank – and pyjama-clad, we proceeded to put ‘Nulsec’ back into the water.
Later, post breakfast and caffeine (plus some ‘feedback’ to James) us saily-types decided that we would sail from Somerleyton staithe, up the Waveney with the ultimate destination of Beccles. ‘Corsair’ and ‘Nulsec’ were first to depart, taking advantage of an early opening bridge to saunter in the direction of Beccles.
‘Corsair’ took a brief pit-spot at the Waveney River Centre, providing a glimpse at Sailing Barge GM. A vessel I had skippered on a delivery trip from London to the Waveney River Centre earlier in 2009. Anyway, ‘Dragonfly’ swept by majestically, being lead by ‘Seabird’, we needed to stop dawdling!
Dragonfly – S/N 6. Largest Broads yacht on the rivers.
Having set off again, ‘Corsair’ tacked her way up the Waveney. A very short interlude later, ‘Nulsec’ was sighted, firmly stuffed up the lee bank. ‘Corsair’ brought up on the weather bank, and after some encouragement – ‘Nulsec’ paddled across, enabling us to make a temporary repair to the rudder. (more of this later).
‘Nulsec’ then set off, and we took bets on how long before we’d see them again…
Inevitably – the rudder had suffered a terminal failure. Thankfully it was in eyesight! Wow. ‘Nulsec’ stormed across the river, the rudder and tiller parted ways. The adjacent hire boat stopped abruptly in an indignant cloud of diesel smoke.
They shouted. We cringed. James flinched and Alison screamed.
‘Nulsec’ however, she was still going! In a series of beautiful violent and uncontrolled gybes, twists, loops and spins she seemed reluctantly to go out quietly. (!) She did inevitably, cannon into the lee-shore with a final thumping gybe.
HB was despatched to act as salvage craft to tow ‘Nulsec’ to Beccles.
‘Corsair’ continued her gentle tack up the Waveney, now being in the tree-lined upper reaches. I manned the foredeck (read my book), or at least I tried. The skipper would like the record to state that Chris B tried to garotte me with the jib-sheets!
(I’ve never liked him).
Eventually Beccles was reached, with some weapons-grades Pimms, and a BBQ restoring everyone’s spirits. Simon was a sterling figure of ingenuity – he first fixed ‘Nulsec’s’ rudder – and then identified the cause of the leaks / sinking!
James had left the self-bailers open.
(insert descriptor here)
After berating him suitably, we sat about long after it’d got dark, everyone just chatting away (nobody could stand after the Pimms).
Sorry – the delay in writing has been for the best reasons. I have been out sailing, a very enjoyable 4 day cruise to the head of navigation at Dilham.
‘Corsair’ at Dilham.
I’m always struck by how different the landscape is on the Broads when I go to Dilham, you are in gently undulating North Norfolk country-side, in a genuine canal setting. Very different from the rest of the rivers.
If you are lucky enough to sail on the Broads, do take yourself to the extremities in the navigation. You’ll see tremendous scenery. Moor at Horsey, and you look on at the Dunes of the North Sea, the next day you can be in a canal basin, and the day after on a huge tidal lagoon (as was) faced with a Roman Fort looking down on you.
One day I hope the North Walsham & Dilham canal trust https://www.facebook.com/NWDCT/ achieve their goal of connecting the canal back to the system.
The canal itself, was authorised by parliament in 1812. Unfortunately it was finally abandoned in 1934. Don’t think the canal wasn’t useful though. In 1898 – 6,386 tons was received at wharves on the canal and shipped away. The wherries on the canal carried about 15-20 tons… So that’s nearly 319 wherry loads in a year!!
The last wherry to navigate it was the ‘Ella’. And in tribute, the canal trust have recently launched Ella II – a launch which will take you on the re-watered sections of the canal.
Wherry at Swaffield Bridge – NW & D canal
In its heyday, the canal boasted a small fleet of these very pretty, small wherries. About 2/3 the size of a typical trading wherry, sadly none have survived. If you visit the canal these days, well it’s very eery – dereliction has left pieces of it beautifully stagnant, like the lock chamber at Honing, just waiting.
Honing Lock
Anyway. I digress. But it’s worth going to look at the canal, if you ever get the chance. Running alongside it is the trackbed of the Midland & Great Northern Railway, the Stalham – North Walsham section of their network.
Such direct competition no doubt proved to be the undoing of the canal. But again, the old railway has been left in splendid isolation, and is full of hidden relics as you walk the trackbed.
Back in 2009, I was in the final throes of preparing ‘Corsair’ for launching. This would be my first run at it ‘solo’, I was nervous. Throughout the winter I’d done what I thought was best. I’d applied a liberal amount of Dulux gloss on the hull, and one whole tin of Screwfix ‘no nonsense’ yacht varnish on the toerails (! – horrible stuff). I was set!
Barton Turf – January 2009 – ‘Corsair’ is hidden behind S/N242 ‘Freedom’. Luxurious conditions!!
Or so I thought. ‘Corsair’ was launched on the allotted day, and surprisingly the ancient and defunct car battery worked adequately to keep the bilge pump humming and she floated (mostly) after a few hours. Eager to sail this year, I had aimed for an Easter weekend launch.
After work, there I was… Heave-ho, hauling away on the heel rope there was the usual strain as the mast rises the first few feet. Then a shroud snagged (cabin roof corner, the usual spot). I made fast, and then walked aft to un-snag.
CRUNCH.
Bollocks. As I had walked down the sidedeck, the mast had swayed about, not being fully in the tabernacle, it was free to pivot. The snagged shroud was snatching, arresting this oscillation. The crosstrees fell victim to this, and neatly folded themselves either side of the mast, snapped cleanly in half
Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks! I was filled with despair, then anger. I’d worked, I’d slaved! I’d gone hungry, through sodding winter. I’d dug a trench! All for this bloody boat, and now this!! Feeling very dejected, I lowered the mast, removed the detritus and left.
I’d planned a weekend away on the boat, what would I do? After a couple of hours, I realised that I wasn’t going to be bloody beaten by this bloody boat.
I eyed up an unsuspecting refectory-style Oak table…
Once again the conservatory was functioning as a workshop quite late into the night, and my housemate quietly despaired. It could have been noisy desperation in all honesty. I couldn’t hear above the noise of my jig-saw.
By midnight I had crosstrees again. They were rough – but they’d do! I was able to re-rig ‘Corsair’ the following day, and returned to Oby Dyke. Bizarrely, S/N 242 ‘Freedom’ who had acquired my old bowsprit, also picked up the second hand rig off ‘Clipper I’ – which suited her nicely. Whatever echelon of yachting I was in, it definitely was the ‘grass roots’ end of things!! We all loved wooden boats, just necessarily didn’t have the finance to keep them.
S/N242 – ‘Freedom’ at Oby, with Corsair’s bowsprit, and Clipper’s mainsail.
Remnants of the French-Polish stayed on those cross-trees for YEARS afterwards. They survive to this day, and somewhere the remains of that table lurk in the workshop.
Having overcome this difficulty, and starting to realise that wooden boats are tricky things I decided to venture south onto the Waveney in May 2009 – for my first Yare Sailing Club race, the Ray Perryman memorial passage race. This runs from Somerleyton to Beccles each year. It also would be my first navigation through Yarmouth with ‘Corsair’.
I survived Great Yarmouth, which is always tricky to get the tidal gate correct, and even arrived at Somerleyton in time for a few drinks at the Dukes Head before last orders.
The trouble with rushing to the pub of course is that when you come back to the boat, you’re too drunk to raise the cabin roof, or put the awning on. Something which you need to remember at 4am when you get up to pee… That cabin roof is solid, and low!!
The course of the Perryman race takes you upstream from Somerleyton, starting adjacent to the railway bridge. Smart thinking is to get course-side of the bridge before the thing shuts and traps you the wrong side!! Every year the fleet gets split pre-start, to the great amusement of those who are the correct side…
The fleet, divided!!
I did provide some amusement pre-start, as my flag of choice is, somewhat oversize!
Big flags. ‘That’ bridge in the background…
The race itself suits me, its a passage race, and presents as a mixed bag. You start in the open marshes with clear air, and a wide river. Soon after Burgh St. Peter and its unique church, you find yourself in a very pretty albeit tree-lined river. That’s when you use the tide, and every last puff of air to your advantage. The last section (2 miles ish) from Aldeby to Boaters Hill is very tricky, you need every bit of momentum to keep going!
‘Corsair’ didn’t set a world record, I believe she placed 7th out of 9th entries. We did start a mere 19 seconds after the gun, which I thought wasn’t too bad. These days if I’m much over 5 seconds off, I chastise myself!
However, we completed the course and nothing was broken. Success! We tussled throughout with a much larger, and heavier yacht S/N 149 ‘Stella Genesta’. I think we finished only 24 seconds apart after an 8 mile race. She is a beauty, and is credited with being sailed to Holland sometime in the pre-war years. A fine craft, but I’m not sure I’d take her across to Flushing!
Line honours that year went to S/N 123 ‘Puck’, an ex Fine Lady from Herbert Woods. Albeit with a much more adventurous rig than her days in hire!
We celebrated the next day by sailing in company to Geldeston – another part of the rivers where you are faced with derelict lock chambers…. I wonder if it’s a condition??
Anyway – I’ll finish with some photographs of that weekend. Halcyon days again, after a somewhat frustrating winter.
The next prominent sailing event of 2009 of course, would be our annual sailing holiday! We’d already done it once on ‘Corsair’, what could go wrong!?
A Broadsman 