Broads – A Broadsman

2012/2013 – downhill.

The remainder of the 2012 season passed without too many notable incidents, we manage a short cruise to Geldeston in the company of 2 other registered RCC yachts, but increasingly signs were apparent that ‘Corsair’ was showing her age, and I was showing my naivety / lack of funds to manage & maintain her properly.

What was fantastic though, was sailing in a fleet of 3 such different yachts. We represented the oldest, pre-war design – & were accompanied by 2 RCC’s which showed how the concept had been modernised. S/N 275 ‘Breeze’ was a Derby-built boat, with an incredibly impressive racing career to her name, she’s owned by the family of a lifelong friend, and as photographed below – she’s come a long way from the hirefleet.

Her mainsail is from an international star one-design, giving her a powerful performance. Upwind in heavy-weather especially, she just takes off, and points, and points… A far cry from our own performance, sadly.

Whilst enjoyable, the predominant memory of the 2012 cruise is that as we were tacking into Beccles in light airs, our 1951 boom decided to snap directly above the mainsheet blocks. This swiftly became a fairly stark lesson in how the mainsail on a Broads yacht can (and will) become uncontrollable – and how quickly a jib that’s sheeted in can push you into the bank, HARD.

Without the funds to do anything else, I recall the frustration & resignation of the hot/dusty walk upto Jewsons in Beccles, where some cheap laths, a fence post & some galvanised grip-fast nails were purchased. A fairly brutal repair then followed – with my hammering the fence post inside the two broken segments of boom, and then applying the laths/grip-fast nails to stop everything sliding apart again. Ugly, yes. Cheap, yes. Long-lasting, no. Satisfying? Definitely not!!

At the time, although I knew I wasn’t keeping ‘Corsair’ as I should have, I also knew how powerless I was to do anything else. I just had to pray we’d somehow keep going. Which, without sounding like a complete idiot, is extremely hard, and simultaneously incredibly stupid. Wooden boats require an extremely high standard of maintenance, you cannot just ‘hope’ – and in my heart of hearts, I knew I was failing her.

There followed a litany of events for the remainder of the season which followed in the same vein, that torrential downpour at Breydon regatta, highlighting all the deck leaks / windows needing to be rebuilt, and ultimately the collision at our mooring which further broke our awning spreaders, tore the awning beyond repair & snapped our boom crutches (late August). All in all, it was a pretty horrid experience, spread out against the back-drop of knowing I needed to do more, if I was to keep ‘Corsair’ safe.

Some bastard simply motored off from here, having caused the damage.

I may have only been 5 years into owning her, but already I found she was a significant part of my life, something which echoed the feedback from previously owners I’d spoken with, they all fondly remembered her & talked at length about how she was centre to many fond memories & friendships for them. However hard it may be, I was determined to keep hold of her, and in truth – I knew I needed her.

By December – we’d taken the unusual step of de-rigging ‘Corsair’ & having her ready to be craned out. Despite having endured a litany of criticism from the red-tape brigade last year, it appeared we’d be able to use the riverside pub as a winter storage / impromptu boatyard again. With that in mind, ‘Corsair’ suffered the ignominy of being towed upstream, derigged & deposited on the moorings the night before the Turkey Race.

‘Corsair’ – dumped on the moorings as I sail past in a borrowed boat.

The race itself proved to be worth of the pages of J.D. Sleightholme… Firstly I stayed aboard a strange boat, in December, with no knowledge of how to work the heating (mistake no. 1) – then, I realised I couldn’t work the cooker… (mistake no. 2) – which lead to me being sub par on the morning of the race itself! I was half bloody frozen to death, starving hungry & for some idiotic reason I’d volunteered to run the race, including laying the course.

Unfolding a sail-cover & awning is no fun in the winter, when its wet you get soaked. What’s even less fun, is karete chopping the folds in, because the bugger is complete frozen solid! Ooopf. My finger’s turned blue, then white & numb. In fact every rope was frozen solid. I’d been promised that rigging a bermudian yacht was mere child’s play, it’d only take seconds… Pah!

We set off to lay the course, and naturally the cock up fairy wasn’t done with us yet. Thundering upstream (well, 6mph with a diesel clattering away) there was a sudden BANG… And the engine stopped. Bollocks. Wuuuuhhh, wuh, whuh wuhhhhhh groaned the starter, nothing, nada, zilch.

BOLLOCKS. I’d only dropped the lower mark, and there was no club boat to help, no vhf & no mobile signal. BOLLOCKS. Return to basic principles… ALWAYS keep the mainsail ready to hoist, tied down in crutches is no bloody good, same goes for the jib. Have it ready to unfurl. Somehow we managed to not hit anything, and I cut (always have a knife) some sail ties, BUT we got the main up & kept some way on… Now. A breather.

Oh no, oh NO! Can’t have that, a gust came down & with a mocking thump/gurgle – the weight & chain for the racing mark (stowed on the foredeck) rattled down to the lee-side & overboard. Oh bollocking bollocks.

Now, I want to you imagine that you’re walking briskly, and without warning I grab your left hand, refusing to let go, whilst you keep walking… that’s the sort of inertia we had, expect it was a 3 ton 28ft ex-hire boat fandango. We lunged to port, we involuntarily gybed, luffed, everything shook/banged like hell, we payed off, we gybed…., we swore, we tangled the ‘effin buoy it’s tackle under the keel, into the jib sheets & generally everyfuckingwhere…

Eventually, some order restored, I threw that buoy into the river with a rage normally associated with a family game of Monopoly.

It really wasn’t our year no matter whose boat we were on! We did manage to extricate ourselves, and get back to start the race on time. Eventually we finished a full 90 minutes behind everyone else (the wind dropped, and with no engine to use, there wasn’t any point in retiring, so forced to sail the course) – and definitely had developed mild hyperthermia as a result of rescuing that bloody buoy.

Post fandango – making our slow, slow way home…

Heyho.

2011 Cruise – Days 7 & 8

So. Waking up & discussing our criminality, we decided the best option was to reef down & take a ‘brisk’ SW tack out of the Thurne.

In retrospect, catching ‘Polly’ in Kendal dyke wasn’t out best plan, so with much spilling of wind we waited until Simon kindly sailed into the reeds allowing us a ‘gap’ to get past. Much to their annoyance, we also then stormed past a hire boat, tailgated the local bin lorry (it’s a barge running up/down Potter) & scattered several canoeists like startled ducks before we moored at the bridge.

The usual drama then unfolded, as we were navigating the old bridge, a day boat & a motor launch caused us to execute a rapid slalom!

Leaving Potter with a double reefed mainsail proved a sensible decision, as before the arrival of yet another rain shower – some strong gusts forced us into rigging the backstays & praying… once at Cold Harbour however we eased onto a broad reach that lasted until Acle.

Thankfully, conditions changed, and we set full sail from Acle bridge for the gentle run upriver to South Walsham dyke. Once there, we located the elusive ‘Polly’ & moored. A curry & cider set the spell for the rest of the evening… Except I’d only bloody bought poppadum’s which required DEEP-FRYING.

If you want to learn fear, true fear. Fill a large frying pan with an inch of oil. Bring it to red-hot temperature on a roaring Primus & then try not to get burnt to hell & back whilst you cook poppadum’s on it… (oh & be inside a wooden boat for good measure)… Eff me.

Later, a world-record was set – with 7 people all getting into ‘Polly’ for a drink… we estimated the freeboard was 2inches.

Night.

Day 8

It rained…. A lot. Again. ‘E’ was forced to vacate her bunk in the middle of the night as a waterfall had appeared. Relations were ‘restrained’ later than morning over breakfast…

We identified full cloud cover, and with no obvious respite from the weather we swiftly decided to motor upriver to Ludham Bridge, seeking solace in the Dog Inn PH.

Having ‘forgotten’ my waterproofs, I retired into the cabin to sit things out. Once through Ludham Bridge, conditions had deteriorated into a bleak, gusty, viscious SE gale. Obviously we reefed, hoisted sail & ‘took off’… (!)

Take off seemed appropriate, never before has a faster passage been recorded for the Ant. Surging upstream like a water-borne helter-skelter, we surfed along, ‘Corsair’ giving her best death roll into the bargain. The main was eased until the knot was in my hand (on all points of sail!!), the crew sat on the weather deck & the boom lunged skywards threatening a chinese gybe at any moment.

Eff me. We overtook, we undertook, and sometimes we plain bullied out way past boats and tried not to think what’d happen if the mast broke. At How Hill we observed a ‘twister’ running down the marsh – which mercifully avoided us.

The single photo of our down-wind melee – this is a backstay tackle.

However, we practiced aplomb (or blind fear) – within the hour, we had moored at Stalham staithe.

Strangely, our arrival coincided with opening time at ‘The Swan’, allowing us to calm our nerves with a leisurely lunch. Sometime later, we slunk back to ‘Corsair’ where unfortunately ‘L’ had had to return to work. The remainder of us motored to Sutton Staithe in a brief spell of sunshine. (it wasn’t to last).

Within minutes of mooring, we dodged YET ANOTHER deluge of rain & fled into the Sutton Staithe hotel, which accomodated us for the most random game of darts… Alas it was only spoiled by the overly creative scoring that ‘Nina’ displayed (for her score only!)

Returning to the boats, we found a welcome late-visitor in the form of ‘Polly’ – Hooray! much, much alcohol was then consumed to celebrate this, and we fell into a stupor, under the steady monotone of rain on canvas…

Night.

2011 Cruise – Day 4

With sun pouring in through the cabin windows (expertly cleaned by Nina & Billy) at 4:30am, E & myself made a resolve to prepare some curtains before tomorrow…

Another stunning morning! Brilliant sunshine & a fair, but light breeze we slipped down the Broad, with ‘Corsair’ chuckling to herself as Nina helmed.

Several photographs later, we exited the Broad & headed up the upper Thurne toward Somerton to inspect Martham ferry, whilst ‘F’ caught us up.

Shortly after passing ‘Clipper 1’, we moored both craft upstream of the bridges before motoring through. Our entertainment for this bridge-transit was hearing the strident advice ‘C’ gave some tourists regarding their mooring technique…

Such amusements aside, once again we slipped off on a broad reach with Bill helming, whilst I busily prepared lunch (beef/mustard sandwiches).

At the confluence of the Bure & Thurne – ‘Corsair’ spent a minute or two before ‘F’ joined us. There followed an idyllic sail up river to Horning, following wind, sunshine, bliss!

Nina & Billy were both v.impressed with St Benet’s abbey, we delighted in all the ghost stories (some just for their benefit) as we passed.

Until Horning, things were peaceful, then the usual melee of day boats, tour boats, hire boats, swans, fisherman & miscellaneous craft provided a hair-raising sail for both boats!

(Scenes of ‘The art of coarse sailing’ – aiming for a point 4ft ahead of the stem of a tour boat raises the pulse!!!)

Once moored outside HSC – we returned to the mainland for a restorative ice-cream. Honestly, we looked like a bloody postcard scene! After some more posing, it was a short, if challenging sail downwind to Salhouse Broad. This section is pretty, but very tricky to sail with such heavily wooded banks.

Exhausted by our impressive mileage today, not one of us ventured upto the ‘Fur & Feathers’ in the evening (we’re all ‘kin knackered) Instead, the playground, woods & 3-hour walk to the toilets occupied us until our respective sleeping pits were found.

Night!

2011 Cruise – Day 3

We woke slowly (for some reason), with mist lazily rising from the water. I set to the duties of tea-making for the crew. Some of them were more ‘perky’ than others the Skipper notes… (!)

A brief quant later, both vessels were moving quite nicely onto the Thurne, with ‘F’ sporting her new, oversize Cornish ensign. Several infuriating windshifts later, we had tacked our way into Potter, and temporarily moored alongside a Richardson’s bathtub.

This gave us a brief refuge to catch our breath, before we all piled into ‘F’ through the bridges, Haiwaii 5-0 style!

Unfortunately, during this manuevre ‘Corsair’ was struck (hard) by an incredibly unpleasant, brain-dead knuckle dragging dickhead who piloted a hire cruiser with about as much aplomb as a wrecking ball. Fruitless discussion with them left negoiations in the hands of the hire yard & myself. Even now, as I write this I remember what a complete & utter person of questionable parentage he was…

However, ice creams, quiche & a quick cuppa soon removed such issues from our minds, and we set off on our voyage to Hickling. Unusually, with no sea breeze, light airs continued, allowing Nina to helm, with Mr B & Billy crewing.

Why let a glorious day with friends get in the way of a petty tacking duel though?! Once on Heigham Sounds we set about with a sweet-looking ‘F’, swapping tacks & exchanging insults as we progressed up past Deep-go-Dyke.

Once on the broad itself, the sea breeze did appear (finally!) & allowed us some decent long tacks with Mr B helping the jib over. Keeping pace with ‘Corsair’ though was a very sprightly dinghy – known as a bugle – it looked nippy!

We moored on the staithe (expertly helmed by Billy) – and all set about cleaning/smartening ‘Corsair’ in advance of ‘E’ arriving.

So, finishing early – I can only note that I am sat in the blazing sunshine, listening again to a live-band, feeling totally content.

Night.

2011 Cruise – Day 2

Urgh. It’s 06:30, a prompted by a lack of sleep I’ve left my bunk to immediately begin the urgent task of making coffee, much to the chagrin of Mr B – who was engaged in the vain pursuit of more sleep…

1st mystery of the day – did we imagine that bloody cat or was it real? Also – why do we have a giant plastic chess piece (A queen) in the cockpit? More to the point, what do we bloody do with it?!? After a brief, hungover spat, we agreed a lack of evidence is often the best defence. (It came with).

With a clear sky, & blazing sun we motored downriver whilst in an attempt at reconcilliation with a clearly tired Mr B, I made Bacon Rolls. We passed ‘Pandora III’ at Berney Arms & briefly conversed with them as to their week’s cruising .

Once through Yarmouth (tide nearly right – we had to push abit) I busied myself in cleaning the cabin. My ‘potion’ was to first scrub the cabin floor with meths/bleach (!) then to add a mix of meths/linseed oil to feed the lino. During this hive of activity – Mr B & the chess piece watched solemly.

Cleaning inside a Broads yacht is always an odd activity – there’s never enough room & I felt like I’d done 10 rounds wrestling! Thankfully we’d reached Acle Bridge – and could take some welcome respite.

We gathered our crew (Nina & Billy), then waited… and waited. One of our group was tacking downriver to meet us, although with the flood now well underway, it was slow-going. Eventually C arrived & after quick introductions we agreed our objective for the night should be ‘Womack Island’.

The light SW provided an easy reach up the Bure, past Oby Mill, with ‘Corsair’ occasionally sweeping round to stay in conversation-distance.

Late afternoon, we ghosted into Womack water, dropping our sails in the shadow of the tress, before briefly quanting onto a deserted island staithe. Idyllic bliss!

Idyllic bliss yes, but after sausage & mash (gravy made with no flour – grump!) en-masse, we approached some unsuspected tourists to rob them of their dinghy. Swiftly installed in said dinghy, we rowed round to the staithe & the King’s Arms…. (just for one!)

n.b; Alas it would appear that the K/A has surrendered itself to a clientele with very different manners / tastes to us, so after 2 (we needed to check the 1st one) – we departed back to ‘Corsair’ for a night-cap. For reference, we had a 12ft dinghy – into which we managed to fit 5 adults!

Having managed to quietly get back with the dinghy & thank the still, frankly bewildered tourists, we had a quick night-cap, considered the day a success & retired.

Night.

2011 Cruise – Day 1

Throughout 2011, I perfected the art of leaving ‘Corsair’ on a convenient mooring between sailing, rather than necessarily slogging back to Brundall each weekend.

Mostly – this worked well, I did occasionally take a ‘flexible’ view of the Broads Authority 24 hour moorings to facilitate this, but at this point of course I’m duty-bound to point out all fictitious references to that sort of thing should be treated as baseless rumour…

Anyway – the cruise for 2011 was to be a Northern rivers affair, especially as we’d covered a significant portion of the southern rivers in our ‘normal’ sailing having moved to Brundall.

Day 1

With news of the Reedham riverside beer festival ringing in my ears – ‘Corsair’ motored downstream in cool, calm conditions. Typically – we’d be gathering crew / boats today & tomorrow.

Meeting RCC S/N219 ‘Farthing’ moored up en-route – exchanging muted greetings across the river & above the engine noise (!). Maybe they were shouting? Who knows… Anyway. We moored just upstream of the BA hut on Reedham quay, to await the arrival of Binky on the 20:00 train.

Duly aboard – we agreed a quick dinner was the best approach, lets get at the beer!

There was however much consternation from Mr B – he’d not yet had the ‘pleasure’ of being upclose & personal with a primus stove… and I was still learning!

To be fair, the flames did die down… but he’s still twitchy from our last fire onboard. (another story!)

Before we could get ashore however, with shades of Michael Green… we’d found ourselves in possesion of a cat! Quite how the bloody thing got aboard is one mystery we’ll never resolve. The ‘shadow puppet’ theatre for the quay-side as the awning buckled/bulged/swayed to the tune of “bugger off! Come here, whose fucking cat is this anyway!?” Must have been popular.

Order restored, we swiftly walked to the Lord Nelson to calm our nerves…

The music festival – pre the Kazoo solo.

Much later, nerves calmed, we were ‘treated’ to some solo kazoo playing, from ‘The Harvs’ band. Wishing them great fortunes, we retired to the boat.

Early tide tomorrow.

Night.

60th birthday party

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.

2011 – 60th year

2011 saw us winter at Upton again, with further repairs being made in an attempt to keep the port sidedeck waterproof (largely unsuccessful – in the long run) – but we were tucked up at the Northern end of the yard, in good company.

For this period we were ashore adjacent to a Woodbrige-builtcraft, a Ranzo 4 ½ tonner designed by William Maxwell Blake – built by Robertson’s yard. She was (is) a beautiful yacht, very different to anything local to the Broads, and both us owners could enjoy chatting away – avoiding real work.

nb; she is for sale – here; https://www.topsail.co.uk/boat.php?refnum=2207

However, 2011 was an anniversary year for ‘Corsair’ – I thought I would do all I could to make her look good. Her cabin sides had been stained last year (the eagle eyed amongst you will have spotted no chrome trim last year).

In fact – that wasn’t entirely an aesthetic choice – I was finding the financial implications of owning a wooden boat really tough. This photo from late 2010 shows myself & a girlfriend heading out to St. Benet’s abbey for the day (November, some beautiful sailing can be had in Autumn) – and you’ll spot where I rain out of masking tape applying the boot top that year!

November sailing – 2010 excuse the lack of boot top!

So, for 2011 I was determined to do better – I’m not sure I necessarily succeeded, but ‘Corsair’ did make it into the water fully painted, with a cove-line, and some more varnish on the cabin sides. Our launch caused a certain amount of concern – as ‘Corsair’ did her best to take in as much water as possible in the shortest time…

The night before I brought both boats south – I stayed on ‘TOG’ in the basin at Upton. Whilst during the winter often this is an exposed spot – by spring the trees are in leaf & it becomes a snug little mooring which if I’m honest, gives you the best seat in the house to have your dinner.

It was chilly, but you can’t beat being afloat – or eating in the open air (IMHO). But yes, back to ‘Corsair’

The extra attention that winter wasn’t in vain – I had plans! ‘Corsair’ was moving south to a new mooring on the southern rivers in Brundall, and was to celebrate her 60th birthday in style, competing in the ‘Ray Perryman’ race over the late May B.H.

The journey south wasn’t without ‘incident’ – it has to be said, having completed the winter work on both ‘Corsair’ & ‘TOG’ – I was expressly forbidden to exit the dyke with both vessels at the same time, by the then yard owner. Well… what can I say??!

It was genuinely abit tight in a couple of places… we rubbed fenders twice with moored boats & then set off for our tidal window at Great Yarmouth.

Coming to the southern rivers, the ebb tends to run alot longer in the Bure than it will the Yare – so you can come down much later than you’d think & be guaranteed a good flood tide up Breydon. Today was no exception, as I turned at the yellow post, both craft found themselves whisked up the channel nicely, thank you very much…

Except. The exhaust note had changed from its usual tone, to one more redolent of a dirty phone call… ‘huffahuffahuffahuff’. Quick check over my shoulder. No water from the exhaust. Sod it! Shut down the engine pronto.

Leaping from boat to boat, whilst digging an outboard bracket out of the forepeak, putting it on, repeating that process twice for the engine & fueltank. Well I won’t bore you with the details, but needless to say I am confident I’ve set a world record. Both ‘TOG’ & ‘Corsair’ were gently pirouetting their way to the mudbanks – I had to move fast.

Some minutes later, with my 5hp outboard roaring its head off, we began the slog trek up Breydon. Phew. Wooden boats eh?

Next time, we celebrate ‘Corsair’s’ birthday.

Cruise 2010 – the final day

Phew. Well after a particularly long evening, the skipper can report his safe return to ‘Corsair’. Miss Jalil & I also managed to spend a pleasant night on relatively dry bunks!

I’m not sure of the details now, writing this 11 years later, but I can see that I’ve changed the crew names for today to “Binky, my faithful Binky, Wiggles & Pol-Pot” – no doubt they were testing my otherwise charming nature.

As it’s the last morning (or meal) – we dined on an ENORMOUS breakfast which for the others was on top of their own feast at the pub last night. But yes, last meal – usually ‘lob in’. Despite the sheltered nature of the staithe – we could tell it was bloody windy, another 3 reefs & storm jib job.

We quanted out, raised sail & blasted across Barton just once to feel the breeze. That dealt with we started on a passage which highlighted just how crap a sailing river the Ant can be! Initially we struggled with the tricks & schemes of the trees at Irstead.

Only then, we got clear of that bloody lot & found ourselves in a long tacking sessions whilst dodging a myriad of hire boats, and getting somewhat (ahem) frustrated in the process. Honestly I’ve never met so many retards.

Just downstream of How Hill, there followed 10 minutes of the most vicious, horrible sailing. We caught a ‘roger’ from the marshes, which ripped the mainsheet out of my hands. It took both hands & all my strength of the tiller to keep ‘Corsair’ from rounding up into the bank.

We spent then 10 long, scary minutes surfing down the Ant, huddled in the cockpit (it wasn’t safe to go forrad with the way the mast was bending) before luffing into a sheltered spot behind some trees.

n.b; trees are your friend on a day like this, I never say a bad word about them!

Sails lowered in record time, we put the outboard on & motored to Ludham Bridge. At which point… WHOOSH. Biblical rain! Everyone hid in the cabin, except me…

At this point, cold, fed up & being given the gift of feedback from Wiggles & Pol-Pot, we accepted the inevitable and motored back to Oby Dyke. To all our disbelief, the Land Rover started – so we drew our holiday to a close!

Next year – ‘Corsair’s’ 60th birthday cruise.

Night.

Cruise 2010 – Day 8; racing… !

Falling gently asleep to multiple sirens from the emergency services was abit bizarre – seems a motorcyclist decided to leave the Stalham bypass at over 100mph last night…

Truth was, we soon found ourselves in a frenzy of activity ‘HB’ was being returned to her owners – both Jalil & Jacob were returning (reluctantly) to ‘Corsair’ & we needed more provisions…

So a high-speed motor to Stalham saw us victualled at Tesco, before we motored straight back to the Punt Club on Barton Broad, to sign in for 2 races.

That done, there was a little matter of a reunion to attend to, & I honestly can’t say absolutely the last time that 3 Chumley & Hawke clippers were rafted up – but it wasn’t an opportunity to be missed! Chronologically, we managed to get Clipper’s 4, 5 & 6 posed – sadly though no time for a photo!

We flurried back to Barton Turf, picked up Clover (another Jalil) – deposited Jacob & headed for the start line…

It’s clear we’re not going to trouble the ‘big boys’ anytime soon! Highlights included not loosing the rig (topping lift on a Nav post) & cutting inside a competitor at the buoy. We came a definitive last, but we also had fun – I mean you can’t get too competitive can you?

Post – race – we deposited crew at Barton Turf (again) – and headed to Gay’s staithe for some lunch. We carried 1st reef & out big jib – so enjoyed another cracking sail across the Broad. We even managed some screams from the feminine contingent (both Jalils).

On-route, we managed to bowl a fresh onion to ‘HB’ to save their dinner plans (this is no mean feat at 6 knots & a good angle of heel!) Also – pictured above are some typical scenes from Barton regatta – it forms a water-borne city for the weekend, through which we threaded (at speed) searching for a motor boat to deliver an onion. Madness.

I’m proud (pissed?) to say that in time-honoured fashion, we then found ourselves in a pub, and is often the way with Broads sailing we subsequently missed out start at 4pm & ended up staggering back to the boat quite ‘merry’…

After a whistlestop lesson in how to operate the Tilley lamp, I left to maintain a dinner engagement leaving them all ‘to it’. Christ knows what I’ll come back to…

Night.