Norfolk – Page 3 – A Broadsman

Cruise 2008 – finale & postscript.

Day 8.

So – Monday 25th. The final day of our 1st cruise…

We started with minor hangovers (compared to yesterday!). Also, similarly to yesterday we were forced to make some further adjustments to the bobstay. We wanted chain, but also a rigging screw to tension said chain!

This was achieved by beaching ‘Corsair’ bows-on at the edge of Salhouse broad. The water came just over the skipper’s neatly folded trousers legs (!) But. The task was completed with far less shouting, splashing and conflicting ‘advice’ than at Gay’s Staithe the previous day.

It was almost like being sober improved our motor-skills. Weird.

We then motored to Black Horse Broad, and positioned ourselves alongside MH, to steel ourselves for a quick blast around the broad itself. Sailing on Black Horse would be a first for me, little did I know it was where ‘Corsair’ had her first sail under new ownership, back in 1961.

It was a fantastic sail! We’d reefed, and set the repaired jib. Theo managed to take some photographs of us as well;

One thing I had learnt, was that to get the best out of ‘Corsair’ was not to be shy of reefing. If you keep her rig balanced, she’ll sail in almost anything.

During our sail, we spotted RCC S/N 72 – ‘Brit’, a very beautiful clinker river cruiser. Her increased size, and beam meant she was handling the weather slightly better than us.

However, more importantly, by sailing on Black Horse, it had meant that on this cruise, bar Bridge Broad (Belaugh Broad), we had sailed on every navigable broad on the Northern Rivers!! Quite pleased with that.

However, the need to return to civil life forced us to motor back to Oby Dyke, and to put ‘Corsair’ away for a few days.

So yes. The first cruise of ‘Corsair’ was brilliant, if at times somewhat ‘full on’ – we stayed out late, we drank too much, we generally enjoyed ourselves.

Success!

And what does the cabin look like, after 4 blokes have lived onboard for over a week…

Theo provided one final illustration, and then we were back to the car. I’d given up on drawing the maps, because frankly they were crap compared to his efforts.

Black Horse broad – spot the jib repair & chain bobstay!

Postscript – 2008.

To write a summary of the cruise is always difficult. Mainly because lots of things happen, and once it’s all over, you are left with too much to choose from. Overall I am tinged with regret that the cruise is over, but once again really elated (exhausted) to have done it.

However. This year, if I were to point out my worst moment, I would say it was when the bobstay broke on Saturday afternoon, when we attempted to race ‘Corsair’ for the first time in my ownership. My disappointment came more to with how pleased I was, with everything. Then BANG. Rig failure.

The best moment however, well. Where do I start?

There is the thoroughly stormy sail across Hickling Broad where with a triple reefed main and storm jib I suspected I had reached the limits of ‘Corsair’. I was wrong.

I could choose the delightful light air sail we had Sunday evening, on Salhouse broad where we were relaxed and happy doing what every bunch of friends should be;

Simply messing about in boats.

Until 2009.

Joe

Cruise 2008 – Days 6 & 7

Day 6.

Well, having spent an enjoyable night in the White Horse, today we were forced to make a particularly early run from Upton to Ludham Bridge. I helmed, whilst cowering behind the awning as it pelted with rain. The engineer & first mate were quite sensible, they stayed in bed!! (Swines).

We had big plans for the lunchtime, as after motoring to Irstead we were due to start our illustrious racing career. Alas, it was definitely memorable (!), but for all the wrong reasons!!

First race, we rigged and got onto the Broad in perfect conditions. We ‘jockeyed’ around in the fleet, until we spied the red flag. No life-jackets onboard meant we were forced to abandon, before we’d even started! Heyho…

At this juncture, CD & JW appears on ‘MH’, and things did become slightly ‘hazy’…

There was an equally abortive evening race, which saw ‘Corsair’ start (quite well), and round some of the course when our bowsprit suffered a mischief. The bobstay (stainless steel wire) snapped cleanly at one end (and it was a flat calm, look at the photos!!). Although a temporary stay was rigged, we returned to Gay’s Staithe.

Rigging a new bowsprit was ‘interesting’ – we went for chain. It was rigged using a variety of the crew in various positions, all trying to bend the bowsprit into the right place, and get the chain to stretch! Eventually we used a nearby Tinker Tramp inflatable dinghy. After an hour and a half, it was fitted.

The evening race…
‘Engineering’
It fits!

One BBQ, one bottle of Jägermeister (!), one of vodka, one of gin, eight strongbow and twelve kronenburg later, we’d made friends with most people we saw, several trees and at least one puppy.

Finally, at the midnight hour, whilst roaring drunk, we motored out into Barton Broad, where we set-off the remains of our fireworks. These fitted nicely into the ensign staff of ‘Corsair’, whooshing up into the sky, only inches above the outboard and petrol tank. (!!!)

The effects were quite spectacular. At Barton regatta, all competitors mudweight on the broad, staying on their boats for 72 hours, in a series of large rafted up enclaves. Imagine. It’s midnight. Most are asleep, many of the boats have their families aboard.

BOOOOM! WHIZZZZZZZ! BOOM! BANG! KABOOM!

Judging by the plethora of lights that started coming on in boats, and the shouting that followed, our fellow sailors were just as impressed as us with the fireworks. Navigation lights doused, we fled.

(n.b; We were young, stupid, drunk and stupid. I would not EVER repeat this)

Eventually we retired at 2am, it had been a loud and enjoyable evening.

Goodnight.

Our route.
The bobstay breaks!

Day 7.

Today started reasonably slowly… mostly due to the industrial sized hangovers we suffered from.

A quick motor to Stalham however saw us re-stocked with food, and a general consensus was reached that racing was a very bad idea. Plus it was raining and ‘orrible.

So instead, we ate restorative bacon sandwiches and decided that we would head to Salhouse Broad. Motoring down the Ant, we avoided the melee, and stopped in Horning for the most civilised practice (after last nights behaviour!) for an ice cream.

Horning to Salhouse was covered by sail, as by then most of us had recovered from the night before. Most enjoyable it was too! We gently tacked up the Bure, and drifted onto Salhouse Broad for a quiet sail on the last of the zepher like breeze available to us.

All of us went to bed early. (I didn’t even have the energy to draw a map)

Goodnight.

Evening at Salhouse.

Cruise 2008 – Days 4 & 5

Day 4.

Ouch. Today was a painful start. An inadvisable quantity of beer at the ‘Fur & Feathers’ and the existing head injury made me jaded. I was not alone – the crew made similar noises… but we couldn’t remember the Morris Dancers, so win some, lose some!

As a priority, we quanted out of our mooring spot, to escape what was possibly the most noisy inboard engine in the world! (Curse those hire-boats, which run engines incessantly for hot showers in the morning).

We motored ‘briskly’ to Wroxham, and resorted to ‘hair of the dog’ on the way, as a restorative. (It was 9:30am!)

Evidently we’d not learnt our lesson, at Wroxham we victualled 24 Strongbow, 1 bottle of red & a bottle of Vodka. We had however nabbed a nifty mooring outside a little coffee shop, and basked in the sun a while…

After some Latte & Teacakes (also restorative) we did set sail in the direction of Ranworth.

This proved the most enjoyable sail of the week thus far. We soared across Wroxham Broad where we saw ‘Chatterbox’ – a gorgeous lugsail dinghy built in 1900, and reputed to be the prototype of the Norfolk ‘Dumpling’ class. We also saw wherries ‘Ardea’ & ‘Solace’. It was starting to feel like a holiday!

The record must also state that at this point, Petty Officer Jalil (and he is Petty!) suffered life-threatening injuries. It was ‘touch and go’ for abit until emergency ice cream was administered. (!)

A whistle-stop tour of Salhouse saw us admiring a Brooke motor launch, ‘Viking’. Very rakish.

As the afternoon progress, the wind dropped, even to the extent that a reef was shaken out, although when sailing through Horning Street the passing showers did force several crew members to retire to the cabin.

Approximately 5 1/2 hours after we left Wroxham, we quanted across Ranworth Broad and moored in pole position (for the Maltsters P.H.) Tomorrow I understand that an expedition to the top of the campanile is planned.

Goodnight.

Our route
Quanting – again!

Day 5.

Ah. Rain. Good, we’d only have 3 days of that so far. We sheltered under the awning waiting for the rain to ease. Presently it did, and we enjoyed a climb to the top of the church tower (St. Helens), admiring both the view and the mobile signal!

Upon our descent, the skipper exercised his judgement and delayed everyone until 11:02am, thus avoiding the deafening from the bells! (clever chap that Skipper).

St Helens
Up and up!
The bells
Spot ‘Corsair’
Spot the skipper

Tat from the gift shop duly purchased, we had a furry spider and a Fox finger puppet aboard, as we set-sail with full rig for the first time 5 days sailing! A gentle drift was interspersed with a quick spot of lumber-jacking with the gaff on unsuspecting trees, and a whistling competition on South Walsham Broad – to rustle up a breeze.

(It was whistle blowing, but that soon turned very nasty amongst the crew!)

Our day’s sailing finished with a Wagnarian scene, where we sailed through crackling lightening and rumbling thunder.

The highlight of the day was without question the surprise we had when we moored opposite Whelpton’s yard at Upton. Conversation with Tim Whelpton revealed that he could recognise ‘Corsair’, as in 1951 with careful supervision from Alfred Yaxley (Chumley & Hawke foreman) – Tim had BUILT HER. I was stood next to the man who’d built my boat.

He even asked me to retrieve a bunk drawer, before upturning it and showing his signature on it, from 1951!!!! It was a humbling experience, and I was stunned at our fortune. We hadn’t planned it, I didn’t know Tim had worked for C&H. Sometimes these things just happen. Wow.

Tim W – her builder
Clipper Vi

Now, after more Thunder and Lightening – we are sitting in the White Horse at Upton, having started the evening off with a Vodka (or 12) back at the boat (!). Theo has managed to rouse the Pub Piano into life, and is playing Scott Joplin. It lived in a lean-to, had not been tuned in a lifetime and a dozen mute keys. He’s good though.

As yet, there are no major panics about our planned racing tomorrow at a local regatta.

Goodnight.

Our route.
More rain…

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.