Chumley & Hawke… the designs

Sorry – I haven’t written for a few days. Not least that I have made a break-through in my research. Think ‘source of the Nile’ moment… I am going to break my rule of writing chronologically – and give you an update. Then I will write fully about what I’ve found later.

But. Back to Chumley & Hawke. Their fleet differed from most hire-fleets, in so much that they were mostly designed properly. This sounds harsh, but its unrelenting honest I’m afraid. Most broads yachts were build ‘by eye’, from half models… And, AND! They were badly built!! It’s easy to look at a river cruiser today, and get misty eyed, but in the ‘heyday’ – these boats were built to do a job, and to be disposable.

Look at ‘Corsair’ – she lasted 10 years in hire, then was sold off as redundant. Now, admittedly her first private ownership was a lavish environment, with all the right elements for a wooden boat. Money, dedication, money, enthusiasm and money. Oh, and Rolls Royce chrome.

Chumley & Hawke was run pre-war by Roland Hawke, and Alfred Lloyd Braithwaite (A.I.N.A.). Braithwaite had bought into the yard in 1930, moving to Horning. His first few designs but the emphasis on sailing qualities, with accommodation coming second. Proof of this, washis ‘Clipper’ class which won the challenge cup for small yachts, Horning 1935.

Clipper – 1939, showing the fine sailing they were capable of.

Aside from ‘Khala Nag’ – the best example I can think of this is ‘Viking’, built circa 1937. She is now a beautifully restored member of the River Cruiser class, however originally built as a 26ft halfdecker, and described as;

“Dayboat, mahogany built and designed for those who appreciate a really fine sailing boat, which compares favourably with a half-decker and has the advantage of a low cabin shelter…”

Nowadays, ‘Viking’ is a stunning vessel, having been modified to a canoe stern. Perhaps this is the biggest compliment to a devotee of metacentric hull theory – Viking was ably transformed to a canoe-stern yacht without major disfiguration. Here’s a picture of that indecently pretty hull;

RCC 113 – ‘Viking’, post rebuild at Broadland Boatbuilders.

Now, I can hear you ask ‘what’s metacentric hull theory’? No? Well I’ll tell you anyway. It was popular in the 1930’s. Mind you, so were airships and facism. So we’ll tread carefully.

A.L. Braithwaite was a supporter of the ‘metacentric shelf formula’, which aims to achieve good balance and handling under sail.   Other notable followers include Harrison Butler.

The theory is based on the principle that as a yacht heels over under sail, the balance of the rig forces and the hydro-dynamics will be influenced by the changes in the immersed form of the hull.  

Succinctly, a different shape underwater is presented as she heels and sails. The shape of the hull is defined at each ‘section’, and those different sections exert difference amounts of buoyancy.  Aft sections may possibly being more buoyant than forward sections, interestingly the faster boats sit ‘bows down’ without the crew in the cockpit so are level fore/aft when sailing… 

Metacentric shelf analysis plots the shifts in the varying buoyancies at each cross section of a boat, and defines a net value to windward or leeward and serves as a guide to achieving equal buoyancy in the dissimilar ends of a design.  For a designer, the key is to draw and build a boat which has its greatest cross section area, within a close tolerance of the mid-point in the waterline.

The challenge then is to couple that principle with a hull drawing that decreases its cross sectional surface area in a union manner – both fore & aft of the mid-section.  Further refinements can be made by accommodating the weight within a yacht into these calculations during design & build to ensure that the forces of hull buoyancy, rig power & centre of gravity all complement each other. 

A.L Braithwaite designed boats which corresponded to this metacentric theory, both ‘Viking’ & ‘Privateer’ being good examples.  Theoretically, their hulls change uniformly both fore & aft of the mid-section (usually within a small tolerance +/- 7-10%).

The ultimate test of course, being that a truly 100% metacentric hull should look almost identify from either direction.  This has been demonstrated with ‘Viking’

Typically, the application of metacentric formula gives a sweet handling boat that is aesthetically pleasing, and has a good sailing performance without arm-breaking cases of ‘weather helm-shoulder syndrome’(™).

It should also be noted that nowadays, these calculations are done at the click of a mouse button, for Braithwaite to have applied this theory whilst it was relatively uncommon, in limited numbers whilst working in a Horning boatshed for a fleet of hire craft is quite extraordinary.

All Chumley & Hawke yachts have a distinct ‘look’ about them, with low slung cabins and sweet sheerlines. Don’t believe me? Here’s a family album;

Finally – the stem repair I made during that first winter.

Having rough-planed the bows quite blunt, I made sure everything was square (ish) before cutting and laminating a series of oak laminates in place. These were screwed and glued, and clamped into place with large baulks of timber helping me bend them right down the hull.

I had no way of knowing if it’d work. I remember cutting the excess off each side, to preserve the ‘scallops’ where the stem is faired into the planking. Judicous use of primer and sandpaper faired it all in nicely.

12 years later, it’s still there, and it’s been not de-laminated or ‘sprung’, so I think I got it right. Evidently my nervous approach was paying off, I hadn’t done anything massively stupid (yet).

During that winter, I also donated the original 1951 short bowsprit to S/N 242 ‘Freedom, who also gained a Clipper mainsail from another. Seemingly I was surrounded by people with old wooden boats, and a perchant to recycling! Or else we were all broke. I know I was.

That winter I often had to choose to walk/cycle to work during the week. I couldn’t afford the diesel to commute AND get to the boatyard at weekends.

Next time I write, I’ll give you an update on why I’ve been so quiet. I promise it’s exciting (to me at least).

1961 – demobbed & ‘yachted’

In 1961, there was a lot of upheaval at Chumley & Hawke. For reasons I didn’t know at the time I was in correspondence with Jamie Campbell and learning when ‘Clipper VI’ was sold off.

However I know now – and will write about in the future. I’m trying to explain my ownership, and how I learnt what I did.

Chumley and Hawke were selling off their hire fleet of yachts. Rangers, Clippers, Privateer, Wenonah I & II, The Elfs, and Viking all up for grabs. To be fair, by the 1960’s the fleet would have been predominantly pre-war. The only yacht built post-war was ‘Corsair’, although she was built as ‘Clipper VI’;

Clipper VI – the hire boat.

Several local boatyards moved decisively – Martham Boats snatched up the Rangers, the Clippers and the Wenonahs. Tim Whelpton (her builder) bought the Elfs and the Imps from Chumley & Hawke, to start his own hire fleet at Upton.

The clippers certainly had enjoyed a fine history of being an exhilarating yacht to hire – featuring as the ‘cover’ boat in the yachts section of Blakes catalogues for several years. Although to be fair – all of Chumley & Hawkes fleet had been described as boats where ‘good sailing was the principle concern’. Even in 1960, Clippers were described as;

“a distinguished class of craft giving first class performance with a high degree of comfort”

‘Corsair’ is actually built slightly differently to her sisters, with an extra plank in the hull. Certainly when she was in hire, this would have given her a ‘dumpy’ appearance when compared to her sister ships.

Anyway. Yes, in 1961 both ‘Clipper VI’ and ‘Privateer were sold privately. I can write about ‘Privateer’ another time, and will do I promise!

The Campbell family purchased ‘Clipper VI’, as they were warned off ‘Privateer’, which I understand was something they regretted, in terms of size. Meanwhile, ‘Corsair’ was whisked to Wroxham, where Leslie Landamore and Raymond Jeckells were tasked with making her ‘suitable for racing in private ownership’.

The budget was £500, which I understand those two nearly doubled! But, here she is, newly ‘yachted’ at Landamore’s shed in Wroxham;

‘Corsair’ the yacht.

At that time, her condition was mixed. Her original planking is Sapele, a poor substitute for Mahogany, and apparently even in the 1960’s there were problems with rot. Broken timbers also featured. Being in hire clearly came with lots of bumps and bashes! Chumley and Hawke had actually fitted some galvanised steel frames as sisters… (!) These hung around until 2018, where they were cut out by my irate boatbuilder – during the rebuild. (I’ll write about that later).

Her original round cabin ports had been cut and changed to ovals with hopper windows. This echos the arrangement on ‘Evening Flight’, a much larger river cruiser – which incidentally is now owned by Jamie Campbell.

The porthole surrounds were fabricated and chromed courtesy of a local Rolls Royce dealership!

67 years on, all the chrome still looks fantastic.

The conversion was obviously looked on favourably, as the Campbells were asked if she was glassfibre as they took her downriver for the first time. I have some photographs of their first sail, and some others.

‘Corsair’ then moved to the Norfolk Broads Yacht Club – where she lived for some years during the 1960’s. It’s clear that during this time, she was a family boat. Just look at her condition from the photo with the riverside picnic!

Although, I have heard a rumour that the bodywork apprentices at Mann Egerton (a large coachbuilders) where often tasked with the painting and varnishing of ‘Corsair’, so no surprises that she looked gleaming.

Jamie Campbell actually won the first cruiser race he ever sailed in ‘Corsair’ in 1962. Although he does claim that as a 12 year old he had ‘no clue what I was doing’ – and was instructed to steer a straight course!!

You’ll also see a nice Lapstrake dinghy astern of ‘Corsair’ in the family portrait, this is still Jamie’s today.

Her racing career with the Campbells was… chequered! In 1964, at Oulton week regatta they over-cooked it slightly, as Jamie recounted; “We moored at Leo Robinson’s yard for Oulton weeks, and I can remember seeing the mast ‘snowdropping’ – it was inevitable it was going to break for at least 100yards. Lowering the stump wasn’t easy against the lead counterweight!!”

In the end, the stump was cut short, and ‘Corsair’ was motored back to Wroxham with a venerable Seagull outboard. She got a new mast and a set of runners.

‘Corsair’ – 1964 with broken mast & Seagull outboard – Leo Robinson’s boatyard, Oulton Broad.

The Campbell family kept her for a comparatively short duration, compared to later owners. They swapped ‘Corsair’ for a nearly new ‘White Boat’ (Yare & Bure One Design) halfdecker with Peter Olorenshaw. Peter and his brother John were directors of the Norwich Motor Company, based on Prince of Wales road, so doubtless competitors of Mr Campbell at Mann Egerton (albeit friendly).

Sadly – Peter Olorenshaw died in 1990, and a conversation with his widow Elizabeth just elicited the information that they didn’t own the boat for very long at all. ‘Corsair’ was ignominiously placed on the bank at Brundall – in a boat auction.

So still a yacht – but as yet her future was uncertain.

I’ve written quite alot, so I’ll leave the stem repair for next time, when I’m able to introduce her next owner.

Early history & winter maintenance.

As you’ve read – that first season I relished all that’s good about wooden boat ownership. It was halcyon days, but my ignorance would soon come galloping to catch me up.

Artist’s impression of that 1st season.

First off – I know that this first winter I needed to address the rudder. It was extremely worrying, how little control I had under certain conditions. From talking with the previous owner – I learnt that it had already been modified/enlarged once!

Okay. So I studied boat design at University, this won’t be too tricky (oh ho ho ho!). Most Broads yachts have freestanding, rather than keel-hung rudders. But there are two main types. Teardrop shaped, and ‘spades’. ‘Corsair’ had a spade, with one corner lobbed off. The tricky bit, is to ensure that the blade and the shaft never part company.

n.b. in a scene worthy of Green’s ‘The Art of Coarse Sailing’, I have once attacked a Bungalow due to a rudder disintegrating… (different boat)

‘Corsair’ was lifted out at Coxes boatyard, at Barton Turf. I knew nothing about them at the time, just that their storage was cheap, their cranage cheap, and it was as close as Thurne had been.

Oh. Yes derigging. My halfdecker was simple. Sails could be folded, and most items placed in the boot of my ancient Volvo. Not so with a River Cruiser! The matresses, the cookers, the Tilley Lamp, the standing rigging, the cordage, the blocks, the sails (X3 jibs), the awning it was all… BIG! Plus it all needed storing.

These days, I’m quite good at folding everything, emptying the boat and storing it all. Not so in the early days.

My housemate at the time was quite shell-shocked. Our garden shed, attic and conservatory soon disappeared, the visual aesthetic was not dissimilar to an olde-world chandlery. The awning being natural canvas smelt lovely, if a little damp for the first few days.

Anyway, the rudder. This was drawn, in a scene reminiscent of the Somme. A rudder tube is about 31/2ft through the hull, and then there’s another 3ft through the blade. That’s a sodding great hole, which was dug with a pick and spade by me. UNDERNEATH the boat, by myself. I also learnt that boatyards are often made up of discarded rubble, which creates fine hard-standing. (oh my arms!).

The new rudder was based on the ‘barn-door’ principles of hydrodynamics. It’s about 40% bigger than the old rudder. It’s balanced, and achieved my desire. I can push it across in a tack, let go – tend the jib sheets/backstays and the tiller stays where I left it.

However, it wasn’t a piece of fine woodworking! I used whatever ply, softwood and cheap epoxy-esque glue I could get my hands on. 11 years later it has survived. Possibly I got lucky. I know that it cost less than £40 in materials, and has some ferrous screws hidden within it. (!)

The old rudder had been designed by a glider pilot. It worked beautifully at hull-speed. That’s about all I can say nicely. My ever-patient housemate watched with on aghast, as I built the new rudder in the conservatory after work, over a week. The use of an electric plane indoors created some excitement.

I was so bloody naïve, I even told people at the time ‘oh no, there’s nothing major this year. Just paint and varnish. Oh and this little job’. Yup. You’ve guessed it.

Rot.

The stem was rotten!!! There had been a deck leak, which had tracked down the stem, and now needed my attention. I was volubly upset. This wasn’t in the plan! How could I afford it. How could I repair it!

I am not a confident woodworker. Certainly not back then. I remember cutting off the offending rotten stem, having first removed the gammon iron, and the bobstay fitting. It was horrible! I cut back as far as I dared, and almost certainly into the apron. I was VERY close to some hood-ends, and had made the front of ‘Corsair’ very, very blunt.

Overall – I was quite dejected. I walked away from the boat with my head spinning. This has happened many times throughout my ownership. At the time, I didn’t realise it, but if you love old boats, owning them gets into your head and your heart much more than you’d believe.

At this time though, I had started the research project which I hope to write about from now on, (whilst re-counting other pitfalls and sailing holidays).

It all started with me being told that ‘Corsair’ had at one time, been the smartest little boat on the broads. She’d been owned by a Mr Campbell. The MD of Mann Egerton* – A large motor engineers in Norwich. Long-closed there are still some signs of its presence. Such as the ‘ghost sign’ still on Constitution Hill.

*there is a lot of interesting history on Mann Egerton – here; https://myntransportblog.com/tag/mann-egerton/

follow the tram lines!

I had written to his son, Jamie Campbell, who replied. It was the first of many ‘wow’ moments. His first communication confirmed that ‘Corsair’ had been owned by his family, and that they’d bought her out of hire in 1961.

Just think – in the early 1950’s, you could buy a lovely Broads Yacht, or you could go to Mann Egerton’s…

Jamie kindly proceeded to give me several photographs, and some personal memories of ‘Corsair’, which I’ll write about next time. Along with how I fixed the stem!!

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.

RCC ‘Brit’

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…

Christ…

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.

or

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.

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!

Pyrotechnics!

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.

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.

Racing in the rain – no thanks!

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

Theo plays.

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

Goodnight.

Cruise 2008 – part II

The inaugral cruise continued;

Day 3

Well, isn’t it odd how often you find yourself in a pub to reminisce about the days’ sailing. The only huge disadvantage at present is that this particular pub has bloody Morris Dancers in it!!

Anyway, I disgress. Today has been eventful to say the least. We had a moonlit evening on our personal island, and awoke to a surprise – sunshine!

We played about on Barton with full sail for a while before heading to Stalham for provision. In the end, we sailed around the Punt Club pontoons, with a camera man snapping away. Some fantastic photos of ‘Corsair’ were got, with an exciting moment getting Chris the photographer back onboard!! (he survived, see illustration)

It was here the day started to go awry… Whilst lowering the mainsail, the gaff capsized – striking me VERY hard on the head. After mooring in the basin at Stalham, with blood now flowing freely down my face, we sought medical attention.

Never have the volunteers at the Museum of the Broads been so startled, at the dishevelled, bloody faced lunatic who shuffled in. Thankfully Stalham Doctor’s surgery super-glued the cut closed, although I do have a large lump on my head.

Leaving Stalham in the company of steam launch ‘Falcon’ we motored/sailed and double quanted down the Ant. Using 2 quants to propel a vessel is a fantastic way of covering ground easily in the calm.

Double-quanting.

Eventually we motored through Ludham Bridge, and turned upstream toward Horning on the Bure.

It was here that ‘Zoe’ (hire yacht) collided with a moored motor boat who unfortunately had a VERY bad-tempered skipper (enjoy your holiday!). ‘Dorothy’ (S/N331), one of our neighbours from Oby Dyke was also seen.

This evening (Day 3) sees us tucked up in Salhouse Broad, we’ve selected an idyllic spot, nestled amongst a tree. Other local highlights include the tree-seat island, and how I managed to procure a mudweight (and rope) for £5!! It had been lost by a hire boat, recovered by an enterprising local and sold to another!

Very much in the spirit of Arthur Ransome, there is ‘Hustler 3’ tucked up onto the ‘beach’ at Salhouse tonight. All that remains is for us to drink a fair selection of Woodforde’s Ale.


Goodnight!

As a postscript, re-reading the log book (2019) is making me realise how much I was learning at the time. Being aboard ‘Corsair’ was very different, being able to accommodate 4 crew and their bags, which stayed dry when it rained! Luxury!

Also – the sailing was so different, having a full crew means you can pretty much dispense with the engine, everything takes so little time. Getting the boat ready for sail or putting the awning on would take less than 10 minutes! Very different to my singled-handed sailing.

Although, the lack of a proper cooker, and certain other domestic equipment did mean it was ‘rough and ready’ accommodation. (!) Plus there is a certain element of Editor’s discretion, some memories remain unpublished!!

Rigging & 1st sail

The first week afloat – it was odd to be honest. I drove multiple times to Oby, just to check on everything. Nervous and excited, I got to grips with ensuring that the bilges were pumped, and that ‘Corsair’ lay on her mooring well.

Oby was (is) a DIY affair, it’s a reed bank, with a selection of rickety platforms or moorings posts for you to choose from. My mooring had some posts – but no platform. It’s amazing how confident you could get, striding into the reeds before taking that final leap from the squidge onto the side-deck! Hesitation was futile, and often damp up to about the knee.

Another bonus, was its location meant I was in prime sailing territory, on the river Bure about 1 1/2 miles from the confluence with the Thurne. I could literally pick any of the four compass points, and sail in that direction.

But yes – rigging. Approximately 400ft of cordage, and steel wires, and blocks, all there for me to make sense of. Sticking to a principle installed by Don Street and his ‘Iolaire’, I kept things simple. Gear should be easy to use, straightforward to repair and reliable!

I know that ‘Corsair’ is a Broads Yacht, and it’s an almighty leap to compare her to ‘Iolaire’ an ocean-going cruiser. Bear with me. Any boat is only as good as her crew and her rig/gear. Keep it simple. You’ll have enough on your plate with everything else that goes wrong when sailing. I do occasionally sail properly (at sea), so I hope I’ve some good advice in my head.

One thing I am forever grateful for, is that the halyards are different colours. Being able to shout ‘Pull the blue one’, to the foredeck in times of crisis is not to be sniffed at…

‘Corsair’ had in fact two rigs. One dated from 1961, and was a snug Gunter rig. The other, was purchased by Joe in 1988 from a much larger River Cruiser – a class known as ‘Sabrina’s’. Crucial differences were about 5ft LOA, wider beam and draft (to the advantage of Sabrina). Of course, being 21 and invincible, the choice I made was inevitable!!

Rigged, with sails bent on – the first sail was to commence. Aboard were my Mother, and my girlfriend. What a learning curve! (in so many ways) – we sailed upto Womack Water, downhill on the way, but tacking home.

First impressions… Powerful, and responsive… But oh she heeled, she heeled! ‘Grace’ my previous boat was very firm bilged and stiff, so had very different stability characteristics. ‘Corsair’ will heel readily until the toe-rail kisses the water, it takes you being very stupid to go further… which I would in time!

Overall, it was a tremendous amount to absorb. ‘Corsair’ carries her way for about a fortnight, draws 3ft 8″ compared to 2ft 6″, and is much more likely to be tide-rode than blown sideways when mooring. VERY different from a 20ft halfdecker.

Most memorable about the first sail. Difficult to choose from, but I’d say being chased by the River Inspector – complete with blue light for non-payment of river toll. That’s the memory that’s stood the test of time!

It is bewitching to sail ‘Corsair’ – she sails like a little big boat. It’s an odd way of putting it, but it makes sense I promise. Makes me smile everytime.

The rudder however was odd, very odd. It just had a neutral sensation, and didn’t really feel like it gripped. Control felt ‘marginal’ at times. I made a note to address this that winter.

During those first few weeks sailing, I learnt a lot. Fast. Some good, some bad. I only had to be rescued from a reedbank once thankfully, but the rescue cost me precious funds (£20) which I didn’t have to spare.

However, you will learn fast when you mostly sail single-handed, and without an engine. For good reason. One, I believe if you can make a boat sail, and mooring, manoeuvring, etc without an engine – you’ll be in good stead when the engine won’t start.

Secondly, when carrying the Outboard my mooring was a chest bursting, face reddening, knee buckling 10 minute walk from the carpark (field) at Oby. Sod that!

Next time, we plan a good old-fashioned sailing holiday. What could possibly go wrong.

Getting started, a big learning curve…

So. 21 & a wooden boat owner. That was… interesting. Most of my friends were perplexed when I started dropping out of the usual Friday or Saturday night pub trips… instead I would mutter about ‘the yard’ or somesuch before disappearing off.

Work colleagues soon grew used to seeing my finger nails sporting either primer, varnish or remnants of gloss paint – almost all of them by this point were fed up listening to me talking about the boat!

The only photographs I had of ‘Corsair’ complete and in commission were from the 1990’s;

‘Corsair’ – 1990’s

My finances dictacted most of what I could do at this stage. Jobs were strictly completed on an absolutely essential basis. The gas stove remained unconnected, as did the cabin lights.

The bilge pump was wired in, using a defunct battery from my Father’s car, the sum total of my electrical systems until 2018.

I was lucky, very lucky in that J&J had spent the money on ‘Corsair’ throughout their ownership. I could see that she had been comprehensively looked after, which made my life easier in that first fit-out. They generously passed over everything associated with ‘Corsair’, warps, rigging, sails, covers, mattresses, cabin curtains. I think I only put aboard fenders and some crockery. Apart of course from a Tilley Lamp & Primus. No electricity or gas you see…

At this point in my ownership, I knew very little of her history – except that she had been owned by Jamie Campbell’s father. Who I wrote to, asking about the boat. His reply was fascinating.

I learnt that ‘Corsair’ was built by Chumley & Hawke in Horning, 1951. She was one of a class of 6, being named ‘Clipper VI’. He provided some early photographs which gave me an exceptional opportunity.

My favourites date from 1961, showing her freshly purchased and made ‘yachty’ for the Campbell family. I like to think that they were as thrilled with her as I, although I suspect they were more sensible.

Corsair – Wroxham, 1961; Landamore’s slip.

I think it was April, when she was ready for launch. Keeping this quite secret – I’d booked the day off, and headed upto Thurne. Apprehensively, I stood back and watched as the strops were placed, she was hoiked onto a trailer and began the 1/4 mile journey to the river.

You’ll note the unusual rudder. More of that later…

At this stage, I hadn’t yet fitted the canvas ‘bellows’ around the roof, so it couldn’t be raised. I spent the first night aboard, roof lowered, awning off, listening for the bilge pump. If you’re interested this is the most uncomfortable way you can stay on a Broads yacht. A fact affirmed to me by my girlfriend at the time. She adamantly stated that I needed to resolve the lack of canvas bellows. One green, antique Scout Tent duly butchered, we had bellows, which smelt gorgeous being actual canvas.

(n.b. I fitted this canvas myself, with ferrous grip-fast nails… into the MAHOGANY CABIN SIDES… I inwardly cringe now when I look back)

The next day, we motored slowly to my mooring at Oby Dyke. What little I did know, you had to wait for a wooden boat to ‘take up’ before sailing her. So the first sail would wait.

But yes! Here she was! My very own river cruiser, afloat!! Looking lovely. (Invoices mostly paid, or rather most invoices paid).

Next, we (I) learn to sail a River Cruiser, and I explore more of her early history.