Somerleyton – 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 season; – we go to the seaside

The remainder of 2011 passed without much incident, although ‘Corsair’ did over-winter somewhere quite unusual…. Inside a pub carpark! Yes, really. A group of us formed a collective where a good idea sadly failed to flourish. We experimented to see if you could use spare land to keep boats on, and subsequently boost the takings in the pub over the quiet months.

Sadly, as ever with good ideas – the red tape brigade came marching in VERY quickly, and after 1 winter, we learnt it wasn’t to be repeated, we were all very naughty & that whoever thought of keeping boats next to a river anyway. Tsk, tsk & go sit in corner…

Some things do stand out that winter – firstly the cold. Jeepers Creepers it was a hard winter – planks were cut, hollowed & fitted, often in sub-zero temperatures & at least one day saw me roving up in the snow! Not ideal, but it got us ashore & ready for the season ahead.

For 2012, we had definitely found our ‘rhythm’ – we partook in the YSC May Day cruise, which included a tricksy little tack up through the trees from Brundall Gardens to Bramerton Common… where upon we (as a fleet) occupied the pub moorings, must to the consternation of a few Gin Palaces – unable to stomach the short walk from the common itself. Poor darlings.

‘Corsair’ & her pals at Bramerton… prior to GP upset.

Strange what sticks in your mind, my only defining memory of that weekend is that tricky tacking, and hearing (upon reaching Bramerton) that I’d made “not too bad a job of that” from another skipper on a much lighter, faster boat. Praise indeed!

Equally, we completed the Ray Perryman without a hitch, in uncharacteristic sunshine. Obviously the atrocious weather from the early May BH had been shamed into a ‘U’ turn! I didn’t know it, but we were establishing a pattern for the events which suited us, and eventually became our ‘season’.

The RP memorial race is run with a ‘gate’ start (you can start between 10-10:45am for example & you are timed from the moment you cross the line, rather than when the gate / start signal is made). This adds a little twist to your tactics… you juggle the vagaries of when the swing bridge will let you through to the start line – and also make a judgement of how much favourable tide you’ll need. My personal preference is always to get through (less rude letters to B.R.) then get going to maximise the flood tide helping you to Beccles.

This year, the photographic gods were also kind to us, if you don’t know our eventual position (7th)… you’ll see us momentarily leading the fleet! I think also, to keep the excitement going, at the post-race curry I ended up accidently eating some peanuts, and mid-way through allergic reaction, I looked up to see a close-friend sharpening a knife/dismantling a biro (for the emergency tractotomy – thankfully not needed!).

For those Ransome fans – Beccles is always a delight to visit, with the new bridge it’s hard to imagine the scene in AR’s day, but the thought of a Thames barge weaving it’s way up the Waveney, through the same trees as us always makes me wonder, just how did they do it? I know in the pool of London, they’d employ ‘hufflers’ to move them along. I suspect ‘Come Along’ had a say in moving them.

But yes, sorry. Without question the highlight of the 2012 season was our foray to the seaside. To my knowledge ‘Corsair’ had never been salt-side of Mutford Lock ever, and it seemed too good an opportunity to miss. We left ‘Corsair’ safely tucked up at Geldeston for the week before, and ventured carefully down to Mutford Lock…

Succinctly – what a BRILLIANT weekend. Sadly unlikely to ever be repeated, with the building of the 3rd crossing in Lowestoft harbour – our racing area has been cut in half. Heyho. Going to the seaside though is something I highly recommend for any Broads yacht. Go, dress overall (the boat!), make sandcastles, play mini-golf & generally have a break from all that nasty yachting (!)

‘Corsair’ spent the 1st night in the basin, learning that a southerly inexplicably causes alot of ‘surging’ / banging & crashing for moored boats. Particularly when you’re the 4th boat inboard of a raft up of many…

Poor sleep aside, going out into the outer harbour and pitching/diving up around in the swell (rather than join the log jam in the bridge channel) proved excellent fun. Our borrowed 2hp outboard screamed like an egg-whisk, we dunked our bowsprit into waves, rocked/rolled, felt abit scared but generally very courageous. ‘Corsair’ might be little, but at times she’s got a great big heart. We got to the point where the RNSYC rescue boats discretely came to ask if we were okay (!).

The racing itself was definitely memorable, the wind got GUSTY, the rains came & those bloody grain silo things caused huge wind shadows… But it was brilliant fun. All those Broads yachts, terrorising the harbour. There were many broaches, our bilge pump rattled throughout each time we got laid onto our beam ends & the waterproofs proved themselves not waterproof (it’s always the way!)

As an aside, if you want to see true fear… Gather together a load of old Broads sailors, all of whom start on a 10, 5, GO system. Then casually announce you’re going to use 5, 4, 1, GO. The air became thick with panic & mutterings of ‘how do you reset this stopwatch?!”

Eventually, the rain/cold got to us, and we rigged the 2hp egg-whisk before then dipping the mast & scuttling back to the safety of the yacht basin. Despite it now being a f7, with torrential rain, we were hooked!

The rest of the weekend followed similar lines, lots of laughter, careening around in a small boat where maybe we shouldn’tve. All too soon, the weather cleared & we returned to the Broads, towing a friends yacht – who’d sadly been rushed to A&E. The only comparison it gave me was how rinky-dinky ‘Corsair’ is, when you compare her to even moderately larger Broads yachts…

So yes, ‘Corsair’ & the day we didn’t go to sea, but very nearly…

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.

Day 2 – 2009 cruise

Sorry. As ever my ambitions to write regularly get thrown aside. However – a lot of the distraction has been sailing the boat, which is no bad thing.

‘Corsair’ had her topsail set recently. It’s the only sail remaining from the 1978 suit. To be honest I’ve never set a topsail on her before. In the true spirit of all ‘well thought’ out decisions, I dug the topsail out of my loft on the Thursday evening, rigging it Friday evening (on the quant pole in lieu of a proper spar) – and then raced with it on the Saturday morning.

It’s important to spend time on well founded (funded) development… (!)

The only down-side, was that the new mainsail doesn’t set quite ‘right’ with the old topsail. I’m considering narrowing the topsail by about 3 inches, which should allow the peak to sit better.

Also – using the quant as a topsail spar – it worked, kind of… Ultimately the sail needs its own spar, as the quant did bend. In fact I’m curious to see if a better spar will allow me to peak up the required amount.

Oh, and having put the boat in the reeds to get the rig up, you know what I needed to get out? The sodding quant…

She didn’t look too bad though;

The regatta in question, is the Autumn Open at Cantley – some excellent photographs were captured by my friend Sue, here if you’re interested. https://www.flickr.com/photos/ladylouise2/albums/72157710884428228

And, Editor’s privilege, here’s a gratuitous photograph of us – powering to the finish line. 2nd to last place. Champions.

So. Yes. Back to Day 2 of the 2009 cruise. To recap what had happened, please see here; https://broadssailing.blog/2019/08/14/summer-storms-submarines/

In short – James had sunk, we’d got pissed, and then some dubious sailing had occurred. Situation normal really!

Day 2 – Cruise 2009.

There was a strange sense of de ja vu about the early morning at Somerleyton… The skipper shuffled through the cockpit, en-route to get the kettle going. A cursory glance astern. BOLLOCKS!

‘Nulsec’ had caught up on the quay, and as the tide fell, she had reached an unnatural angle of heel. The bugger would capsize any moment. A flurry of hungover people came busting out of various craft up and down the bank – and pyjama-clad, we proceeded to put ‘Nulsec’ back into the water.

Later, post breakfast and caffeine (plus some ‘feedback’ to James) us saily-types decided that we would sail from Somerleyton staithe, up the Waveney with the ultimate destination of Beccles. ‘Corsair’ and ‘Nulsec’ were first to depart, taking advantage of an early opening bridge to saunter in the direction of Beccles.

‘Corsair’ took a brief pit-spot at the Waveney River Centre, providing a glimpse at Sailing Barge GM. A vessel I had skippered on a delivery trip from London to the Waveney River Centre earlier in 2009. Anyway, ‘Dragonfly’ swept by majestically, being lead by ‘Seabird’, we needed to stop dawdling!

Dragonfly – S/N 6. Largest Broads yacht on the rivers.

Having set off again, ‘Corsair’ tacked her way up the Waveney. A very short interlude later, ‘Nulsec’ was sighted, firmly stuffed up the lee bank. ‘Corsair’ brought up on the weather bank, and after some encouragement – ‘Nulsec’ paddled across, enabling us to make a temporary repair to the rudder. (more of this later).

‘Nulsec’ then set off, and we took bets on how long before we’d see them again…

Inevitably – the rudder had suffered a terminal failure. Thankfully it was in eyesight! Wow. ‘Nulsec’ stormed across the river, the rudder and tiller parted ways. The adjacent hire boat stopped abruptly in an indignant cloud of diesel smoke.

They shouted. We cringed. James flinched and Alison screamed.

‘Nulsec’ however, she was still going! In a series of beautiful violent and uncontrolled gybes, twists, loops and spins she seemed reluctantly to go out quietly. (!) She did inevitably, cannon into the lee-shore with a final thumping gybe.

HB was despatched to act as salvage craft to tow ‘Nulsec’ to Beccles.

‘Corsair’ continued her gentle tack up the Waveney, now being in the tree-lined upper reaches. I manned the foredeck (read my book), or at least I tried. The skipper would like the record to state that Chris B tried to garotte me with the jib-sheets!

(I’ve never liked him).

Eventually Beccles was reached, with some weapons-grades Pimms, and a BBQ restoring everyone’s spirits. Simon was a sterling figure of ingenuity – he first fixed ‘Nulsec’s’ rudder – and then identified the cause of the leaks / sinking!

James had left the self-bailers open.

(insert descriptor here)

After berating him suitably, we sat about long after it’d got dark, everyone just chatting away (nobody could stand after the Pimms).

Goodnight.

Summer storms & submarines

Phew. Writing this now having had a forced absence from;

A.) writing and
B.) sailing.

Weather in Norfolk hasn’t been the kindest. Last Saturday instead of rowing across to ‘Corsair’, I was forced to walk a mile down the flood-bank on the opposite side of the river, and then wade through the rhond to get to her.

Mind you, I’m not complaining. You walk south from Cold Harbour and the view west is fantastic. The vista includes St. Helen’s church, whose tower juts above the tree line at Ranworth, meanwhile to the right, the remains of St. Benets squat on the marsh, with Horning Hall obscured behind.

The f7 SW had laid the reeds flat, and as we walked, we watched a determined yacht tacking up the Bure. Three reefs and a storm jib – good effort. Even from couple of miles away, you could tell she was striding along. Exhilarating conditions (for the right boat!)

All of this played out under a magnificent, leaden sky-scape. 8/8^th’s cloud cover, and all scuddying along ahead of this incessant near-gale. I tried to absorb it all, that sense of place in me taking over. I’m very lucky to live in this part of the world, my advice is to make sure you see Norfolk in different weathers and in different seasons.

It’s hard to describe, but you’ll capture the different ‘moods’ of the days and seasons if you do. You’ll see what’s a weather bank in a Northerly, or a westerly, where the trees will shelter you, how the wind bends along the reaches – all useful for when you’re sailing and need to find a decent mooring or take in a reef. I don’t pretend

Edward Seago managed to capture the atmosphere of St. Benets under a storm better than me;

Anyway. ‘Corsair’ was O.K. bilges were dry, covers still on. Duty done, we trudged back to the car. Odd isn’t it, boats are such a release in so many ways psychologically, and a constant responsibility physically. I dread to think how many miles I’ve driven to check on her in similar situations.

Back to 2009.

2009 Cruise – Day 2

Cold. Cramped. And hungover once again. Not an unusual set of circumstances for the cruise…. Bleary eyed – I staggered through the cockpit and opened the awning.

Bollocks.

Opening the awning had focused my attention somewhat. What a bloody nuisance! James’ boat – ‘Nulsec’ had capsize itself in the night, quite unnoticed. After confirming with someone less hungover than me that in fact yes, the boat had sunk itself – we set about righting her. After I’d had a good think about what to do…

What a hassle that was!! For a 17ft boat, there was a lot of water to be removed. Sterling bailing efforts by Rob, James & Chris removed most of the water, leaving ‘Nulsec’ mostly afloat.

However, a brief phone call to Julia – the wonderful Hon. Secretary of the Yare Sailing Club produced a large, petrol powers salvage pump, which quickly drained the boat, leaving us with our fleet mostly intact.

Having lost time, we then set about motoring down the New Cut. For those of you not familiar, the New Cut is the result of some fairly aggressive Victorian power-playing. Yarmouth was a successful port – Norwich was not. No matter – Samuel Morton Peto dug a cut – linking Oulton Broad with Norwich, so you wouldn’t have to go through Yarmouth…

Yes. Not quite successful, it does however provide a useful function connecting the Yare with the Waveney – where we were heading. Whilst we motored, a fry up was produced, with the skipper resorting to hair of the dog!!

More amusement was to come though, how do you lower the mast on a 17ft racing dinghy?? With a lot of ‘faff’, bad language and brute force! I was still hungover, and unable to assist.

During this, ‘Dragonfly’ (S/N 6) came swishing past heading for Somerleyton. No doubt amused by the antics – they sensible opted to finding decent moorings.

Moored against a convenient crane barge at Haddiscoe – we set about raising the big white crinkly bits (sails!!)

In the short interval that followed, James attacked a moored pontoon, ran into the reeds on a lee-shore, lured a hire craft into towing him illegally, and generally produced much material (very kindly) for me to record.

The fleet – now mostly assembled at Somerleyton consisted of ‘Seabird’, ‘Dragonfly’, ‘Corsair’ and ‘Nulsec’… Just HB & Herbie the wonder-dinghy and we’d be complete.

To pass the time, we inexplicably found ourselves in the pub – avoiding the rain, playing cards with a pint. Compared to yesterday’s excitement – this is more like it!!

Goodnight.

2009 – relaunch & my first YSC race.

Sorry – the delay in writing has been for the best reasons. I have been out sailing, a very enjoyable 4 day cruise to the head of navigation at Dilham.

I’m always struck by how different the landscape is on the Broads when I go to Dilham, you are in gently undulating North Norfolk country-side, in a genuine canal setting. Very different from the rest of the rivers.

If you are lucky enough to sail on the Broads, do take yourself to the extremities in the navigation. You’ll see tremendous scenery. Moor at Horsey, and you look on at the Dunes of the North Sea, the next day you can be in a canal basin, and the day after on a huge tidal lagoon (as was) faced with a Roman Fort looking down on you.

One day I hope the North Walsham & Dilham canal trust https://www.facebook.com/NWDCT/ achieve their goal of connecting the canal back to the system.

The canal itself, was authorised by parliament in 1812. Unfortunately it was finally abandoned in 1934. Don’t think the canal wasn’t useful though. In 1898 – 6,386 tons was received at wharves on the canal and shipped away. The wherries on the canal carried about 15-20 tons… So that’s nearly 319 wherry loads in a year!!

The last wherry to navigate it was the ‘Ella’. And in tribute, the canal trust have recently launched Ella II – a launch which will take you on the re-watered sections of the canal.

Wherry at Swaffield Bridge – NW & D canal

In its heyday, the canal boasted a small fleet of these very pretty, small wherries. About 2/3 the size of a typical trading wherry, sadly none have survived. If you visit the canal these days, well it’s very eery – dereliction has left pieces of it beautifully stagnant, like the lock chamber at Honing, just waiting.

Anyway. I digress. But it’s worth going to look at the canal, if you ever get the chance. Running alongside it is the trackbed of the Midland & Great Northern Railway, the Stalham – North Walsham section of their network.

Such direct competition no doubt proved to be the undoing of the canal. But again, the old railway has been left in splendid isolation, and is full of hidden relics as you walk the trackbed.

Back in 2009, I was in the final throes of preparing ‘Corsair’ for launching. This would be my first run at it ‘solo’, I was nervous. Throughout the winter I’d done what I thought was best. I’d applied a liberal amount of Dulux gloss on the hull, and one whole tin of Screwfix ‘no nonsense’ yacht varnish on the toerails (! – horrible stuff). I was set!

Barton Turf – January 2009 – ‘Corsair’ is hidden behind S/N242 ‘Freedom’. Luxurious conditions!!

Or so I thought. ‘Corsair’ was launched on the allotted day, and surprisingly the ancient and defunct car battery worked adequately to keep the bilge pump humming and she floated (mostly) after a few hours. Eager to sail this year, I had aimed for an Easter weekend launch.

After work, there I was… Heave-ho, hauling away on the heel rope there was the usual strain as the mast rises the first few feet. Then a shroud snagged (cabin roof corner, the usual spot). I made fast, and then walked aft to un-snag.

CRUNCH.

Bollocks. As I had walked down the sidedeck, the mast had swayed about, not being fully in the tabernacle, it was free to pivot. The snagged shroud was snatching, arresting this oscillation. The crosstrees fell victim to this, and neatly folded themselves either side of the mast, snapped cleanly in half

Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks! I was filled with despair, then anger. I’d worked, I’d slaved! I’d gone hungry, through sodding winter. I’d dug a trench! All for this bloody boat, and now this!! Feeling very dejected, I lowered the mast, removed the detritus and left.

I’d planned a weekend away on the boat, what would I do? After a couple of hours, I realised that I wasn’t going to be bloody beaten by this bloody boat.

I eyed up an unsuspecting refectory-style Oak table…

Once again the conservatory was functioning as a workshop quite late into the night, and my housemate quietly despaired. It could have been noisy desperation in all honesty. I couldn’t hear above the noise of my jig-saw.

By midnight I had crosstrees again. They were rough – but they’d do! I was able to re-rig ‘Corsair’ the following day, and returned to Oby Dyke. Bizarrely, S/N 242 ‘Freedom’ who had acquired my old bowsprit, also picked up the second hand rig off ‘Clipper I’ – which suited her nicely. Whatever echelon of yachting I was in, it definitely was the ‘grass roots’ end of things!! We all loved wooden boats, just necessarily didn’t have the finance to keep them.

S/N242 – ‘Freedom’ at Oby, with Corsair’s bowsprit, and Clipper’s mainsail.

Remnants of the French-Polish stayed on those cross-trees for YEARS afterwards. They survive to this day, and somewhere the remains of that table lurk in the workshop.

Having overcome this difficulty, and starting to realise that wooden boats are tricky things I decided to venture south onto the Waveney in May 2009 – for my first Yare Sailing Club race, the Ray Perryman memorial passage race. This runs from Somerleyton to Beccles each year. It also would be my first navigation through Yarmouth with ‘Corsair’.

I survived Great Yarmouth, which is always tricky to get the tidal gate correct, and even arrived at Somerleyton in time for a few drinks at the Dukes Head before last orders.

The trouble with rushing to the pub of course is that when you come back to the boat, you’re too drunk to raise the cabin roof, or put the awning on. Something which you need to remember at 4am when you get up to pee… That cabin roof is solid, and low!!

The course of the Perryman race takes you upstream from Somerleyton, starting adjacent to the railway bridge. Smart thinking is to get course-side of the bridge before the thing shuts and traps you the wrong side!! Every year the fleet gets split pre-start, to the great amusement of those who are the correct side…

I did provide some amusement pre-start, as my flag of choice is, somewhat oversize!

Big flags. ‘That’ bridge in the background…

The race itself suits me, its a passage race, and presents as a mixed bag. You start in the open marshes with clear air, and a wide river. Soon after Burgh St. Peter and its unique church, you find yourself in a very pretty albeit tree-lined river. That’s when you use the tide, and every last puff of air to your advantage. The last section (2 miles ish) from Aldeby to Boaters Hill is very tricky, you need every bit of momentum to keep going!

‘Corsair’ didn’t set a world record, I believe she placed 7th out of 9th entries. We did start a mere 19 seconds after the gun, which I thought wasn’t too bad. These days if I’m much over 5 seconds off, I chastise myself!

However, we completed the course and nothing was broken. Success! We tussled throughout with a much larger, and heavier yacht S/N 149 ‘Stella Genesta’. I think we finished only 24 seconds apart after an 8 mile race. She is a beauty, and is credited with being sailed to Holland sometime in the pre-war years. A fine craft, but I’m not sure I’d take her across to Flushing!

Line honours that year went to S/N 123 ‘Puck’, an ex Fine Lady from Herbert Woods. Albeit with a much more adventurous rig than her days in hire!

We celebrated the next day by sailing in company to Geldeston – another part of the rivers where you are faced with derelict lock chambers…. I wonder if it’s a condition??

Anyway – I’ll finish with some photographs of that weekend. Halcyon days again, after a somewhat frustrating winter.

The next prominent sailing event of 2009 of course, would be our annual sailing holiday! We’d already done it once on ‘Corsair’, what could go wrong!?