Brundall – A Broadsman

Storm surges & layup

Our 2013 ‘season’, if you can call it that came to a dramatic conclusion in that December.

On the evening of 5th December, with shades of the 1953 floods, the weather turned nasty. Strong winds, high tides, & a large volume of rain water in the rivers could mean only one thing. We were in for a trying time – and it’d be bloody damp.

If you’re interested – you can read here about the metrological conditions which caused the surge; https://www.metoffice.gov.uk/binaries/content/assets/metofficegovuk/pdf/weather/learn-about/uk-past-events/interesting/2013/winter-storms-december-2013-to-january-2014—met-office.pdf

To give you a clue of why this storm surge was significant, like many other river cruiser owners, my year is dictated by the various events/fixtures which we attend. Now, for reasons to numerous to mention – my sailing club runs a race in December, where you race for a Christmas Turkey. Something which is more fun than it sounds. (although as I write this, I’m less than a fortnight away from the Turkey Race, and it’s 3 degrees outside / pouring with rain… I do wonder about my choices sometime!)

Anyway, 2013. Through the week, with the weather looking so atrocious – with each updated forecast, the commitee of the club devised alternative plans. Ultimately though we agreed (reluctantly) that we’d be bringing at least 3 boats to race – no matter what the weather. (gulp).

So on the Friday afternoon, I’d packed a bag – and sat at my desk looking at the frozen rain thundering against the office window. Yet again I could see an ‘interesting’ time ahead. By 6pm – it was pitch black, and the river was already 2ft higher than it ought to be. Oh & it was blowing a genuine f8 by this time. Deepest joy.

Slowly, we crept down the road to our mooring – at times having an old Land Rover is a real bonus! The water sloshed around inside, meaning we were now wading in at least 3ft of water. In driving rain, we carefully found the edge of the jetty, untied our mooring lines & crept out into the main river.

The water was HIGH all over the river network.

River, what river? Thank goodness for a roof-mounted search light. We motored gingerly up the Yare, all our usual landmarks gone. You couldn’t see the edges, there was no real boundary between land & water – all we could do was follow our noses & try not to get frostbite. Sadly, as our searchlight featured a genuinely antique, battery-flattening bulb – all we could do was use it sparingly when we thought we’d hit something.

Eventually, ‘Corsair’ reached Surlingham Ferry – we had to find the edge of the moorings using the quant as a depth sounder (falling in would have been a bad idea!) – and again, we tied up on underwater mooring posts, stuck our quant in to stop her over-riding the bank, and waded to the pub.

It was closed!! Thankfully we managed to persuade S the landlady we were thirsty & hungry – and very kindly she openedup – providing us with warming food & beer. I’d never seen the river this high – it was upto the front door!

Typically, being in a warm pub helps change your perspective on any situation, I can’t say I’d forgotten the freezing rain or the savage gusts. Ultimately though the boat was safe, as was I… and we’d see what tomorrow would bring.

Elsewhere – the high water levels had played havoc with the yachts who’d wanted to attend. Bridges were un-navigable, as were large sections of road. We counted our blessings & went sailing for a short, but cold race.

Sadly – ‘Corsair’ suffered a gear failure whilst sailing – another sign of her increasing issues / lack of care I was able to show.

Being as objective as I can, every year I lay up the boat. Each season starts/finishes with the same rituals, it’s methodical. You de-rig, sails are folded, lofts are crammed with gear & eventually the vessel is tucked up under her cover & you get some respite for a few weekends at least…

In 2013 however, it all had a knell of finality about it. I’d gained a whalloping overdraft – ‘Corsair’ was sailed to her winter storage on a blowly, cold day (December 28th) – and I was genuinely sad. I didn’t see a way I could commission her for the following year. With that over-arching thought, once de-rigged & left ready for the crane, I slammed the L/R door & drove home.

It was 4 years before she sailed again.

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, the final day(s)

Strangely, (never repeated) – on this cruise, Mr B & myself left ‘Corsair’ in the hands of a 3rd party for the day, and galloped over to Cambridge to attend an engagement party of a dear friend. Later this turned into a commitment for a stag do… afloat on the Norfolk Broads…. But that’s another story.

The cruise itself finished with somewhat of a fizzle… both ‘F’ & ‘Polly’ left the day we were in Cambridge… The next day ‘Corsair’ was motored, non-stop from Ludham to Brundall, depositing Nina & Billy at Acle bridge, to retrieve their car, which took some doing, it was covered with ‘authorities aware’ stickers (rude!)

To knock some of that distance off, on our return ‘Corsair’ made a night-time run down the Ant, having spent all of the day partying in Cambridge, which proved VERY chilly. I thought this was summer!

The highlight of the week was the miraculous rescue of the ship’s radio – it had been knocked into Ranworth dyke & presumed M.I.A. A full hour later, Simon retrieved it having used a fisherman’s keep net as a grapple… and more amazingly he restored it to life!!

The low-light of course was our brush with ‘the law’… although I’m willing to confess that it wasn’t the first (or the last) that would come to ‘Corsair’ & me.

After a 7 hour full-chat blast to Brundall, we retired home for a well-earnt sleep.

Night.

2009 cruise – Day 5.

Ouch – Lots of Ouch. Port, its lovely, but ouch. My head!!

After the skipper had gathered himself – ‘Corsair’s crew enjoyed a sumptuous breakfast and we decided there was nothing for it, but to go sailing. Certain parties were reluctant – and the Skipper had to motivate the malingerers!

Once everyone had risen – we tacked back downriver, past Brundall gardens. Both s/n83 ‘Pollywog’ and parent-craft Zandamon were moored at church fen.

‘HB’ had left early from Surlingham (6am) – with ‘Seabird’ and ‘Dragonfly’ choosing Rockland St. Mary for the overnight stop.

‘Corsair’ and ‘Nulsec’ were heading back to Cantley, and for a change we tacked! In fact, there had been far too much tacking already this week, and we’d all gotten fed up!!

Robert was unceremoniously dumped ashore at Brundall railway station – Uni and a shower proved too much temptation (he’s weak willed).

Pushing on, I muttered the immortal “lunch at Buckenham”, and handed control to Chief Engineer Jalil.

THREE TACKS. THREE. having handed over the tiller, after 3 tacks – we ploughed an almighty furrow in the mud and stopped.

Engineer he may be… sailor he ain’t.

All the tricks were deployed – pushing on the quant, swearing, lowering the sails, swearing some more, then hanging crew (Jalil) out on the boom, swearing more…

During this lull, ‘Nulsec’ kindly ran aground nearby – to keep us company!!

We’d run aground on the outside of a bend – where the river was cut out to a 90 degree corner, for turning coasters. 40 years later, no coasters but quite a lot of mud.

We then broke the outboard.

2 hours, 2 HOURS after we ran aground – ‘Corsair’ made her way to Buckenham Sailing Club, where we ate chips. The skipper multi-tasked and planned Jalil’s death…

The fleet decreased again, with ‘Nulsec’ leaving us, ‘Corsair’ due to head through Yarmouth tomorrow – ‘HB’ would meet us later. So we tacked downriver to Cantley, joined by the GWYC fleet. There was a lot of close quarter tacking, and we scared some bystanders!

Much of our day was hungover – and on the mud. Beer… glorious beer!

Goodnight.

2009 Cruise – Day 4

Urgh. Well.

Typically there’s always one. in this case it was Chief Engineer Jalil… He’d fallen in love with a barmaid at Cantley. This lead to an evening of heavy drinking – the junk box played on (and on), and things became blurred…

It was a VERY late return (or early) for those who were staying on ‘T.O.G’. The skipper showed some restraint… (!)

The Only Girl – s/N137.

Two cabins, four berths and ample space for drunkard, love-sick crew members!!

Now, the next day its worth noting that some were alert and fit for duty… Some… well. Less so.

Once again our plan was changed to suit the scale of our hang-overs… We’d head upriver to Surlingham, which gave us plenty of time to bring ourselves into the world slowly… with caffeine. Lots of caffeine.

It was light airs, so we raised the sails on both ‘Corsair’ and ‘Nulsec’ and beat up the Yare. It was even sunny! Yes, this was the life! H.B motored upriver, sweeping past.

Javelin No. 1 – sporting a fraudulent mainsail!

We sailed past Nulsec’s birthplace, at Buckenham Ferry. Here – the 1st 550 (yes, really!) Javelin’s were built. Nulsec is unusual – not least because she is S/N 1, but that she is probably the only wooden decked Javelin still in existence – by S/N 5, the boats were all fibreglass.

More information r/e the Javelin class, which celebrated it’s 50th anniversary in 2018, is available here; https://www.javelinuk.org/

‘Corsair’ moored at Brundall for victualling, and petrol. Strangely there was demand for energy drinks and paracetamol!!

Determined to rescue his reputation our Engineer leapt into action, as we walked upto the shops. His Uncle’s boat ‘Strongbow’ (aptly named) had some mechanical issues (it had a BMC1500 diesel)… ‘nuf said!

Returning from the shops, we looked longingly at the railway station, thinking about civilisation, showers, hot water!! Eventually – we all walked back to the boats!

Jalil had managed to bring life to ancient iron – the subtle clattering and blue haze surrounding ‘Strongbow’ gave it away as we approached! ‘Strongbow’ also served as an excellent camera vessel for ‘Corsair’ as she tacked through Brundall.

Sadly – ‘S/B’ had to retire – oil pressure was scarily low. On ‘Corsair’ then amused ourselves by tacking onwards, aiming at lots of expensive boats, with a probing bowsprit!!!

‘Nulsec’ attempted the shortcut through Surlingham Broad, and ‘Corsair’ took the long way around via Brooms. We didn’t catch them – BUT we did enjoy ourselves, arriving at Surlingham last.

At Surlingham – it was the skipper’s turn. A thoroughly pleasant (for some) – and deeply amusing (for most) evening was spent attempting (and failing) to capture the attention of a barmaid…. (!)

Accepting failure, Chief Engineer Jalil & the skipper took a nightcap (or 4) aboard ‘Seabird’ – and set about getting wrecked commiserating eachother!

Goodnight!