Broads – Page 3 – A Broadsman

On the trail of A.L. Braithwaite.

Broads boats rarely take you to the M25. Yet, here I am. My ancient Land Rover rattles and drones away as I’m buffeted by passing lorries.

I hate the M25. Neither me or the Land Rover are designed for the M25.

Put yourself in a skip. Fill it with some wasps, a strong smell of burning Oil and a diesel generator. That’s life in a Series on a motorway. Oh, and kick the skip off a cliff, whilst inside for authenticity.

The Land Rover – outside the church of St. Christopher – ‘Go your way and go in safety’

(you need divine intervention in an elderly Land Rover!!)

I’m heading to Hampshire, and I’m about 100 miles away. My destination will be a small village tucked away just outside the western end of the Solent. It’s here, at Milford on Sea that A.L. Braithwaite, designer at Chumley & Hawke spent his final years.

He came to Horning in 1930, and set up at C&H. His designs for the hire-fleet were mostly drawn in the 1930’s and included ‘Clippers’, The Brown Elf & Imp classes, Viking and Privateer. All corresponded with the metacentric shelf principle, and to my knowledge most survive. Certainly all 6 Clippers made it, which is unusual, I only know of one other hire boat class which has survived extant, the legendary ‘Sabrina’s’.

From tracing A.L Braithwaites ancestry – I had learnt that his grave is located at ‘All Saints’ in Milford. I also knew his probate had revealed his final estate, in Milford on Sea.

So – I arrive at Milford, it’s hot. I’m hot. It’s been loud, at a steady 50mph.

But. I’m here to collect a series of artifacts that belonged to A.L Braithwaite. Yes. Somehow two weeks ago, having arrived here, I found the grave, which I photographed. Then to be honest I just contemplated things.

A.L. Braithwaite & J.M Braithwaite – at rest.

I thanked him. I thanked him for having the insight to draw such pretty boats, and I hoped that he knew how much pleasure his boats had given people. Not just me, but the previous owners of ‘Corsair’ as well. She was, and is held very dear in the hearts of those lucky enough to own her.

But. Enough. Whilst mulling over everything I decided to head toward A.L. Braithwaites last known address, in Milford. I knew it had been derelict for some time, and I knew that I might, might just get a photograph.

Pulling up, I noticed a phone-number for delivery, so I took a chance and rung it. Within seconds I was speaking with Simon. Simon owns A.L. Braithwaites house now, and somewhat bemused invited me down to meet him.

About an hour later, having had the thorough tour of the house and the grounds – I’d explained myself, and why I was here. Simon was thrilled. I was thrilled. Somehow a collective interest had put us in the same place at the same time.

Over 200 miles from home, I’d genuinely thought that the grave side would be the finality of my research. Somewhat grounding really. Suddenly there’s the end, and I had felt very mixed.

But. Having spoken with Simon for about 1 ½ hours now. I commented on how it was such a shame that in 2009 Joan Braithwaite had moved out of the house, and if I had been quicker, I’dve met her.

Then came a ‘source of the Nile’ moment… Simon paused, and asked me if I wanted to see inside of the Old Mill. Which we opened up.

Almost immediately I began to sift through some of A.L. Braithwaites old reference books… Some of his paintings, and incredibly a photograph of Khala Nag! To my knowledge, this is the only photograph of her left in the world.

I also found some lines drawings, and the most breath-taking of all. I found his design notebook! Including notes of his response to an R.I.N.A paper on metacentric hull theory, and some of his calculations for at least two designs. ‘Khala Nag’ and ‘Redwings’.

Here was something real, something that definitively linked me with the thought processes that lead to my boat.

There was so much! It was dumb-founding. Here I was, holding belongings of the designer of my boat. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t to be honest.

Now, I will write fully about this. I promise. I can’t not, not really. But I’m going to finish by saying I give my heartfelt thanks to Simon and Amy Davies, without whom none of this would be possible.

It’s not often I use this word. But what I’ve found is irreplaceable. Especially given that in amongst the wreckage (literally) was the remnants of a Blakes Model.

For those of you not familiar with this. Blakes the hire boat agency used to use large scale models as advertising material in the 1930’s and 1940’s. You could report to their offices, and see a miniature version of whatever boat you’d hire.

Now, call me a lucky S.O.B. – I certainly have. The wreckage I found, which Amy had miraculously saved… It’s the Blakes model, or Builders model of a ‘Clipper’. ‘Corsair’ was built as ‘Clipper Vi’.

I now own her builders model.

Clipper – the Chumley & Hawke Blakes model.

The cruise – 2008

I have always written about my sailing holidays. At the time, I think I didn’t know why I was doing it. However, now when I look back at the various log-books, I am so glad that I did. As teenagers, we would assemble a motley fleet of dinghies, and my halfdecker before disappearing on the rivers for a fortnight. It was bliss… and it was cheap! Plus of course there was fire, sailing, and illicit drinking…

But. It has taken me 2 hours just to locate this particular log-book, as I appear to suffer from Captain Flint’s trunk syndrome…

The trunk.
The logbook.

So, I can’t put the entire week into one entry. I will transcribe exactly what I find.

Day 1
Well, today was the first day of what would (I except) to prove to be a difficult/interesting trip. Firstly, we have different craft entirely this year as we are using my broads yacht ‘Corsair’.

And, as most of the usual crew are either in India, or working hard, the numbers have also shrunk noticeably. Anyways this year we have James, Theo, Chris and myself.

Anyway, today! We set off in characteristic rain, and drove to Oby through relentless rain. By some fluke it did in fact ease off (what’s going on?) And at last though we did motor from Oby Dyke, and hoist a double reefed main & small jib. This proved very sensible as we stormed upriver to Potter Heigham. There we actually executed a smart mooring, and then quanted through the Arch.

After the boring procedure of mast lowering/raising was… well in truth this time is was not boring, the mast stuck in the hatch carling, and was forceably ‘persuaded’ to move, and nearly killed Chris (next time).

After Potter Heigham we roared upriver to Meadow Dyke and reached onto Horsey, that moment when you reach it, winding down Meadow Dyke is still one of the most dramatic moments of Broads sailing.

One very good thrash later we came to rest before motoring back up Meadow Dyke. During that time, we picked up a Martham halfdecker helmed by an exceedingly grumpy man. (n.b. they were paddling head to wind, we towed them out the dyke, much to the relief of their crew).

Once we’d left them, we chuffed upto Hickling where much to my surprise we saw ‘Mandi’ (commissioned by a lesbian school teacher and named to spell “M and I”) and also helped a ‘Japonica’ to move, re-moor and then sensibly decide to stay for the night.

Goodnight.

p.s. During this period, my good friend Theo was kind enough to illustrate the logbook, with my fountain pen. For this I am very grateful.

Our route.
Theo’s first illustration- Horsey Mere

Day 2

Well, this morning proved quite challenging. It was tremendously windy (F6-7) conversation between us and the ‘Japonica’ moored opposite was entirely based on how many reefs we would require!

In the ended, we opted for three & the storm jib and blasted across Hickling. Even with our stem-set jib and tiny mainsail we have the cabin-sides under!!!

Potter Heigham proved as ever quite forgettable, although some basic victualling in Lathams did occur. We sensibly motored from Potter, for two reasons;

A.) the wind had increased once more.

B.) in our furious sail across Hickling, I had shredded the storm jib and now had copious amounts of sewing to attend to.

On our way to Ludham Bridge we did an excellent piece of salvage, which results in a new acquired boathook. All credit to Chris for going wrist-deep in water to recover it.

After Ludham bridge we sailed with the freshly repaired storm jib setting wonderfully, it almost became civilised and briefly was sunny! Some nifty quanting past Irstead saw us out onto Barton.

Quant, sail & motor saw us into Stalham where an agreeable pint in the ‘Harnser’ left us brave… Hence via Tesco strode back to ‘Corsair’ and making a night passage to NBPC HQ on Barton, we’ve pitched camp inside a shed (no really!) set some fireworks and now are musing on inhabiting an island.

Goodnight.

Hickling Broad – Artists impression!
Our route – Day 2

Days 1 & 2 – the photographic record.

Theo – just left Oby.
Horsey
Horsey
Day 2 – breakfast, X2 Primus Stoves.
Storm jib repairs
Barton – night Day 2

The beginning – purchase & realisation.

Approximately a week after I had spoken with Joe & Julia at Somerleyton, I was on my way to meet at their house. A telephone conversation, and some email traffic had resulted in my knowing certain particulars about the boat.

One, she was a wooden Broads River Cruiser, sail number 64.

Two, Joe & Julia had owned her about 20 years, but had purchased another larger River Cruiser, hence the sale.

Three. I had been expressly forbidden by my parents, and close friends to buy a larger, wooden boat.

So. One grey morning, I duly arrived at J&J’s house. ‘Come in, Come in’ was bellowed from the end of a tiled corridor. Duly, as I went in – I was passed by Julia who waved and disappeared to the Co-Op. This was my first meeting of Joe (referred to as Old Joe, to avoid confusion). Briefly we discussed the situation, my lack of money and dry cabin… Before setting out to a nearby boatyard.

Above is one of the first photographs I have of ‘Corsair’. I remember now, how surreal the day felt. Old Joe’s deft driving, chain smoking and friendly chatter meant we arrived at the boatyard before the situation had sunk in.

I was stood, looking at a beautiful, large wooden boat. And I was talking as if I could buy it. What was I doing? How could I pay?! All these thoughts were absent as I stood there, peering under her tarpaulin.

Struck by how spell-bound I was, I must admit I took a cursory look, before saying to Joe ‘she’s perfect’. At which point it was agreed we’d talk business.

Days later, having agreed the terms. I found myself sneaking back – to have a look more thoroughly. I had a River Cruiser. She was PERFECT! A sweet shear, a cabin, two bunks. A cabin. Reasonable size, pretty chrome trim, a gaff rig, a cabin (have I mentioned this).

In all honesty – I never thought I would own a yacht like this. She was (is) a beauty. Twice I just appeared, and stood there on deck or next to her. Just absorbing everything.

Bewitched by thoughts of nights afloat, sailing adventures and the like – I broke the news to friends and family. Some were more enthusiastic than others. Unfortunately a staunch friendship was tremendously damaged by the purchase of ‘Corsair’ – something which took many years to rectify.

Meanwhile, I was then faced with the prospect of making this yacht work, she had to be commissioned. My half-decker ‘Grace’ had to be sold. Many things overlooked suddenly came to light.

But. I had a river cruiser. A thought which occupied my mind as a smile played on my lips.

After about 4 months, ‘Grace’ moved onto new owners – I was incredibly sad at her departure. However, it was very apparent that Joe, Julia & myself were to become staunch friends. We started sailing on their boat, whilst I rummaged through sheds to find awnings, covers, sails, ropes, shackles, outboard motors… I was hooked.

My abiding memory of this time was the first attempts to make ‘Corsair’ take up. I rigged up a series of hosepipes to the yard standpipe, and got busy. Down in the forepeak. 3 years ashore hadn’t been kind, and every seam gaped.

I knew nothing, I know that now – but ignorance is bliss. I just watched as the water poured STRAIGHT out from underneath the hull, as I pottered about screwing things into the cabin, or deciding which locker would hold the ropes, etc. In truth, it was so bad that I kept a 1/2 oil drum underneath the boat. About every 20 minutes, I could pick this up and empty the collected water back into the boat!!

Still – I had done the most important thing I could think of…

Introduction

Hello. I wanted to write. Anonymously if possible. Odd being a private person, and wanting to write publicly at the same time.

I am a Broadsman. I own an old wooden sailing boat, which I adore. I wanted to share with the you my experience of owning her, some history, and recount some anecdotes.

C&H 1951. — Clipper VI – how she originally appeared in 1951.

My sailing is typically shared with my wife and two dogs aboard, together we navigate the rivers of Norfolk & Suffolk. In terms of influences, think Ransome, Griffiths, and Stock. ‘Sailing just for fun’ about sums it up.

In terms of myself, I am the owner/skipper. Most of the work on ‘Corsair’ is done by me, and most of it not to a high standard. Cheque book sailing may at some point feature in my life, but for now I am the one who ‘enjoys’ make do & mend, repairs and often having to turn my hand at all sorts of tasks to keep her in good order.

2007 – the beginning.

I was 21. I owned a sensible, easily handled gaff halfdecker called ‘Grace’, who had been one of the staunchest friends I had ever known.

Cutting my teeth sailing solo, camping holidays afloat, getting into trouble, getting myself out of trouble, all happened on this boat. I can honestly say that during my 6 year ownership of ‘Grace’ I never once doubted her.

So. Why change? Well. I’ll start writing the story of how I came to own ‘Corsair’ – and I’ll publish it very soon I promise.