A rest before the Steward arrives.

A good friend had expressed an interest in spending some time on the good ship this year and I had arranged to pick him up in Newcastle by the bridges.  I had a pleasant few days in the sun doing a few chores: whipping some rope ends, running repairs and a bit of cleaning in the spare cabin.  Sounds posh doesn't it, 'spare cabin', what I really mean is the front of the boat that isn't taken up with sails, rope and the extraneous tut that one seems to find necessary when sailing.

Now, whilst I can pass my time at anchor for many days without the need for land, the same cannot be said for my imminent arrivee.  He would rather put foot on land every 24 hours and have a looksee, preferably in a comfortable marina.  Clearly a compromise had to be had.  I arranged for us to have a few stop offs on the way north to mitigate potential mutiny.

During my sojourn at anchor the entertainment was provided by the weather, a little rainbow sneaking into view out through the pier-heads.

And then of course the boys come out mob handed, but who are they going to play with?

Ah, that'll be him then, the Sapphire Ace, wonderful car carrier extraordinare.

They hook on and hog tie the behemoth.

 And as we head upriver for the rendezvous we find their lair.
 

A veritable den, snuggled up in the bight of the river.

At least one of the yards is working on something, looks like a production ship of some description, but look how far she from her marks!

We made it to the Millennium bridge again where there is a pontoon to which one can tie, so I did, and rather nicely too, even if I say so myself.  Then I noticed the notice suggesting that if I stayed for more than ten minutes I would be required to pay ten golden coins.  The rendezvous was not for another half hour so all the good work of coming alongside gracefully was undone and we donned a fender board and made for the wall.  At least it had a ladder. 

The Steward was piped aboard and his sea chest stowed and we took the ebb down river past the silent remains of the famous Tyne shipbuilding yards.  Heading out to sea we followed the ebb north and made for the Coquet river and arrived at low water.  Was this a good idea, the sea was from the south east and a playful chop had set?  Coquet island should provide a lee in theory but there is not a lot of water on the bar, believe me.  I showed nothing under the keel and any swell would have made a bump.  Anyway we snook in and the Steward, relived to have survived the motion of the good ship Tutak, stepped ashore for a rest and some serious food shopping.  The forecast wind was hideous, aftermath of hurricane Bertha or something so we hunkered down and ate, rather well, for what seemed like days.  The winds never really turned up, got a bit fearsome overnight once but it was offshore and Tutak would have coped well.  The wonders of hindsight......  I did have a rather surreal experience when a chap sidled up to me and said "are you the crane driver from Tollesbury".  Hello to Miriam and Peter and their ship "Sea Lark".  With all the nice winds blown away we set off north bound for Scotland and the port of Eyemouth.  Now whether this is pronounced Haymooth I am not altogether sure.  Needless to say my preferred and favourite berth was available but it was due to be the lowest tide of the year and we were warned, it being next to the outlet of the Eye water.  Got to be a pun there somewhere.

Here we have the Steward posing for the photo shoot at the bottom of the Knuckle.  We dropped lower and lower.  I had to reclaim the ladder steps from the weed, hacking it back as we fell forever downward.  Eventually even the ladder ran out.

Should the Eye water have been in spate the stream on the left would have been white water and very noisy.

Another few feet and I could have changed the masthead light.  As it was I was able to have a good look at the rigging and masthead to check for any worrying decay.  We had already lost the tri-colour in the blow.

I received a telephone call recalling me back home.  Death is never convenient, most times especially for the recipient.  Plans were laid  for leaving the ship and heading south but in the end we had time (possibly) to sail for home waters.  This was done with Tutak's plain sail down wind rig.  Twin foresails, 'a most gentlemanly sail' were the words of the Steward.

With the windward genoa poled out - it spills and fills the leeward genoa.  The slot in the middle allows the build up of air to escape and makes it more stable, well that's my theory anyway.

Many, many miles were dissipated under the keel and the Steward had to take to a book, occasionally thinking of the next meal he was going to cook and perhaps where he thought he was going to cook it.

Time for a few hours rest was had behind Flambourgh Head off Bridlington.  Having been before I was certain of some respite but Tutak had other ideas and started jigging about.  I played and played with the mizzen and could I settle her down?  In the end the Steward said "why don't you just let her have her way".  "It will never work, Tutak doesn't behave like that" I said.  Anyway I did what he said just to placate him and guess what, it worked!

Later, when the tide served we set off into the night and made the Humber in the morning light.  The Steward was perhaps astonished at the malevolence of the waters that drain a fair proportion of England.  Up to 1500 metric tons of water per second can pour out of this mouth and with the tide advancing can produce some interesting manifestations, particularly with 20 knots plus over the deck and on the nose.

We crossed the shipping channel and started the trudge inland.  The estuary is vast and it is easy to forget just how far one has to go.  We bashed for some time, often standing on the transom, before we made the levelled lock of the fish dock of Grimsby once more.  There we stayed until another weather system took its toll on the local yachts.  From the warmth and comfort of the clubhouse we watched as one dishevelled yacht after another limped back home.  The Humber lifeboat towed one in, one was towed into Wells next the Sea.  The journey from Lowestoft into the teeth of a fearsome wind had been daunting.  I think I would have turned back with my tail between my legs.  The later it got the worse it got and we stayed put for a while.

Monday came with the worst of it blown through but the forecast still suggested 6s and 7s with gales offshore.  To me it didn't seem like it so we ventured out and had a brisk sail with the 22 knots behind us.  I did almost reconsider when the only other boat out there was the Humber lifeboat again and the rescue helicopter having just lifted two off a 32ft yacht.  It was left abandoned as the lifeboat crew had said it was too dangerous to attempt to get a tow line aboard.  The Steward and I did have a passing thought of "Salvage" but the co-ordinates put it 100nm offshore in a gas field.

It was pretty uncomfortable in the estuary but the seas smoothed as we got away from the clutching tempestuous  torrents tumbling out of England.  I always find it difficult to take a decent vid of the sea, never seems to come out quite right.

 On and on we went, out of the mighty Humber, past the tidal havens of the North of Norfolk.  Past Great Yarmouth and Lowestoft and the tide was with us again so we slipped past the enticing entrance and headed on southwards for the Ness of Orford, keeping close to the beach to avoid the chop.  The wind had come round when we circumnavigated Norfolk's great corner.  We had the tide past pretty Thorpeness with 17 - 20 knots over the deck, Tutak was thundering along and spray was aflying. 

A bit further up the beach we passed Maggi Hambling's scallop rising from the gravel.

But by the time Orfordness arrived the tide was again foul and we crept round a few yards off the beach trying to pinch a bit.

  
By the time Harwich was made the tide was once again favourable and would be with us for the last few hours.  The Steward spotted a pig's tail off the back of this cloud.  Looks like there may have been more than one.  Must be a vortex there somewhere, they do say a big cloud weighs in at hundreds of tons.

We rounded the Naze and into the Wallet.  As ever there was the wind over tide Wallet chop and an unmarked drift net to contend with.  This had already disabled a catamaran so I was quite keen not to become its next victim.  I was getting a bit tired by now and thought I was starting to hallucinate when I saw this apparition.

Yes it is the "Ross Revenge" of Radio Caroline fame.  Now moored in the Blackwater, viewable with trips from the town of Maldon.  Now that's what you call a mast.

So we fetch up on a buoy in the Leavings of Tollesbury to await the tide and a comfy berth on the mud once more.

We managed Grimsby to Tollesbury, 168 of our nautical miles in 30 hours.  Good going for the Steward and me, not to mention Tutak.  I was fed with three cooked meals a day with copious snacks and delicacies in-between.  Served a variety of tasty treats and drinks and endowed with a few extra pounds for the privilege: Sparticus might say "Gratitude to the Steward" and leave it at that, I however, might say " Stuffed Mate, cheers"

Yes, for one reason or another this year's adventures were not long ones.  What with the birth of the Grandchild and the unfortunate demise of a loved one not to mention the promise to be back for early September anyway, it was doomed from the start.  But, get away we did and made it across the border once more and covered 760 odd miles in the process.  The worst thing was that the heater broke, new one for next year I reckon.

Bolt - as in Usain!

Right, we have five weeks, best make the most of it.  It looks like the west coast of bonny Scotland is out but at least we can have a bash at something.

The tide was stupid o'clock and we left the berth at ten to four with nautical twilight lighting the way.  The wind was rather light so although the sails were up the engine was providing most of our motive power.

Midday had us off Orfordness and the wind had filled in enough for us to get the nylon out.

 

So with the asymmetric and the mizzen staysail set we romped along rather nicely.

In the end we had 16 knots true wind, bit too much really but this is downwind sailing.  It is normal to drop the mizzen on a run so it doesn't cover the staysail, I drop it and use it as a watersail to give us a few extra square feet.  It was pretty quiet so I took the opportunity to shut eye for five minutes and then have a minute lookout.  This way one can have about three quarters of an hour rest for every hour, assuming the conditions allow.  This means it is easier for me to stay awake at night.  I had ideas that it might be good to press on being as things were going ok.  By 1600hrs it really was too much for the light stuff.  I unrolled the genoa and dropped the asymmetric behind it, it still went in the flipping water, grrrr.

Dusk had us off Happisburgh on the north Norfolk coast, setting a course for the Humber.  With the wind dropping and the tide against us the engine was started to give us a helping hand.

Dawn was showing us the West Sheringham light buoy and by midday we had made the Humber entrance.  We had cheated a mile or so as the Donna Nook range was not live early in the day.  The hook was dropped at 1425hrs off the Haile Sand Fort on the south side of the estuary with Grimsby not far to the west.  You can pick it out by the needle like hydraulic tower marking the entrance to the docks.
 

We clocked 163 nm in about 34 hours, cracking sail for a bit too.  A friendly face popped up to welcome us....

The following morning we took out tide out of the Humber and followed the ebb northwards past the gas carrier that I swear was here last year.

The wind was quite boisterous so the nylons were left below.  We had 4 to 5 from the south west so the waves were not bad.  The sunset did not bode well mind.

By 2200hrs even the wheelhouse was getting draughty and the heater has packed in too.  Bugger.  It looked like it was going to be a rough night with the wind going round to the WNW and now at 25 kts.  I headed for Runswick bay under reduced power as the waves were bothersome.  Fortunately the fishermen had left the fairway clear of pot markers as the cliffs made for a very black entrance.  I managed to get drenched on the deck as the bow smashed into the waves, that sea had really built up even though the wind was offshore.

The morning broke with the worst of the weather past leaving us with a 3 - 4 and fluffy clouds as we passed Staithes.   

As we neared the Tyne pier-heads a pod of dolphins took the opportunity to have a play with Tutak's bow wave.  A car carrier was leaving the port but it was well out of my way by the time we eventually said goodbye to the Flippers.  We anchored at 2040hrs in time for another rather pretty sunset, this time over North Shields. 

Next day was bright and fine as we looked north to the ruins on the hill.

I spied these leading light towers on the south side.  I am pretty sure they are not in use now as there are other lights on the inner and outer pierheads.  I discovered later that the leading lights are actually on the north bank, silly me.

Last year this was a building site and I think this is part of the creation.  The street lights are red,green,blue changers on the promenade, rather pretty I thought.

This thing was still here too, I had assumed it was some sort of crane for pumping concrete to the top of a large building.  How wrong can one be!

Silly people are strapped into seats at the end of the arm and then hoisted aloft........


Only to be dropped to a certain death.......

 As one pendulums back a forth about fourteen times......

 

Gradually coming to a halt.  The seating cradle is free to pivot on the end of the arm creating rather alarming angles of heel as it tries to carry on at the end of the swing.

 Fair put me off me lunch it did.

Harwich and the Festival of the Sea.

The next day was the Harwich sea festival and I wanted to see what it was all about.  So we checked out of the Dardenelles and headed back to Harwich and my beloved anchorage off HMS Ganges, as was.  There were vessels dressed overall on Ha'penny pier but what else was going on I couldn't see but I was waiting for the main event when the helicopter was going to play with the lifeboats.















 Wow  I don't know whether I would want one of those things hovering over me, perhaps if I was dying or something.....

We had a lovely sunset once more.




I found the Thalatta anchored nearby in the morning.
 

I had the call and it was a race back to Tollesbury to be ready for the birth of the child.  Best speed was made and due cooing was done.  Ahh, sweet.  More supplies were ordered ready for the off, proper like once we were happy that everthing was fine and dandy.

The Dardanelles.

I had marked the latest buoy positions on the plotter and approached midway between the Haven and the West Knoll and shaped a course for the starboard hand Knoll buoy.  It all went rather well and we took the flood past Felixstowe Ferry and up to the Rocks.  The rocks was a bit busy it being a nice day and everyone was wanting to get on the beach, so I happily dropped the hook off Prettyman's Point just a bit further down river.  There were a couple of barges anchored off, there seem to be quite a few doing the rounds these days.

This is a view from Prettyman's Point looking upstream towards the Rocks.

 I did take a splendid vid of the Depen bar on our departure the following day.  Sadly I tried a different format; one which is meant for emailing.  The quality is very poor unless viewed on a very small screen and then you loose the detail.  Never mind, next time.  I must say I have just had one of those one in ten year sails.  We left the anchorage under sail, sailed down river, out over the bar, down to Harwich, through the harbour and up the Stour without the engine going on.  What joy for old Tutak, and me come to that.  When I say I didn't use the engine, it's not quite true.  I was keeping a listening watch on channel 71 for Harwich VTS and nothing was coming in or out as I verified on the AIS so I carried on sailing towards the deep-water channel and started to cross, definitely not 90 degrees more like 15.  All of a sudden I hear this on the VHF - "Harwich VTS this is warship 'Trumpeter' permission to enter the deep-water channel and proceed inwards, over".  Now he's not exactly going to say "no" is he.  I looked over my shoulder and I could see a monster bow wave heading my way so I did flick the switch and get a hustle on out of his way.  Warships don't show up on the AIS.

The warship "Trumpeter".
 

Coming round the point I spied this pair on the redeveloped Felixstowe container terminal.  Little and large except the little is large and the large is ultra large.

This pic shows the true relative size of the vessels.  Ok the smaller of the two is actually a fairly standard size, there is one in-between but the big one is the massive "Beartrice". 

Far away from the bustle of the port we dropped the hook in the Stour, you can still see the cranes and hear the containers being loaded as the wind was from that direction.  But we could have been a million miles away as the sun went down off Stutton Ness.

 

Then it did a strange thing and came back up again, the next morning, fair enough.

Stutton Ness is a bit like the rocks only fewer folk come hear.  Nice beach and a rather pleasant place on a sunny day.

Downriver a bit on the other side is Wrabness Point.

It doesn't have beach huts on the beach it has beach front properties.  I suppose they have to have something, after all it is on the wrong side of the river as it faces north.

What a liveaboard, the tug "Fenland".

 I felt a bit ashamed as I had the engine on and the Thames Sailing Barge "Thallata" was tacking down river, albeit with the tide.  She used to have the rig off "Memory", now a hulk at Tollesbury.  I wonder if she still has?

 This old girl had just pulled out in front of me, off the Parkstone quay terminal.  I crossed behind it from left to right to get to the Bathside; the power of the engines was pushing the river back up against the tide as it accelerated to 8 knots.  Such was the turbulence I had to disengage the autopilot and hand steer!

Trinity House, the building on the left is where they monitor all the automated lighthouses, amongst other things. The main section is the pier with the lightship on it being fettled and the sheds where they refurbish the buoys.  The pier to the right of the gantry is the old train ferry pier, long since disused.  Would I be right in thinking that the gantry is used to support the adjustable track ramp for the trains?  It looks up to the job.

Halfpenny pier was busy, but isn't it always.  You used to be able to stay there during the day for free.

 And what do we have here, are these arriving from Finland or going, maybe they're not going to Finland at all.  Amazing what you find on the Navy yard.  Looks like they are strapped onto skids for loading, then some BIG forklift picks them up.

Once again we leave the hustle and bustle behind and head for the Backwaters of Walton with the Pye sand making itself known for all to see.  We crept in with barely 18" under the keel over the flats.

I stuffed the keel onto the mud opposite the anchorage off Stone point at the entrance to the Dardanelles to await sufficient tide to enter my secret anchorage.  When the tide goes out that's it, the gates are shut, no one in, no one out, perfect peace.