At last. After one of the coldest springs which had put back our sailing adventures, we had determined on a trip to Woodbridge. Having learned over previous sails what could go wrong, frequent checks of the weather and preparation on the boat were made to avoid too many exciting moments on this trip. (Main halliard ends were secured to cleats. On a previous trip taking down the mainsail in a blow, I experienced the wonder of seeing a beautifully coiled main halliard disappearing up the mast.)
After a fitful night on board, not helped by the lullaby of clanging halliards, I awoke early to get sorted. “M” arrived in good time bearing gifts of food, drink, her boundless enthusiasm, sense of fun and ‘up for it’ attitude. Our carefully rehearsed exit from the pontoon descended as usual, into an inelegant ballet of forward and reverse at full throttle and pushing away from all the very expensive boats unfortunate to be moored near us.
I had also forgotten to not drink three cups of coffee prior to departure. This gave me the added frisson of trying to cope with all that needed doing while desperately wanting a pee. However, we got through it without damage to craft or limb, to make our way up through the Twizzle. A lovely 12 knot SE wind allowed us to hoist sails immediately and make our way in the narrow Channel, sailing in peace and quiet, appreciating the wildlife and bird call. We had the ambre solaire on board in hope, but this was a morning to don rain gear.
As we came out of the Twizzle into the Hamford Chanel a wall of grey black clouds loomed on the horizon, and rain blew into our faces. The wind was spot on for a good reach up along the coastline working our way along buoyage markers to reach the Woodbridge Haven Buoy. Although our speed was good, the waves were coming at us broadside making the boat roll. For some reason “M” was fascinated by the rolling waves and became very quiet and uncommunicative. Checking on our novice sea dog, it was as if she was velcroed to the carpet with every one of her claws hooked in, the look on her face said it all.
A wall of grey black clouds loomed on the horizon, and rain blew into our faces.
We Arrived in Tide Mill Marina in predicted time, having had a fleeting kiss with one of the many sandbanks, and a slicker mooring, compared to our departure. Although I prefer to go on a swing mooring, there are many pleasures to be had going into a marina. Not least you can get on and off the boat without fear of having to wade through mud at low water. In addition to power, hot water, showers, toilets, Wifi, is the chance to indulge in a session of boat porn for me. The benefits for “M” include all of the above (except the boat porn) and the cultural delights of exploring new places.
I was really pleased that my route plan and timing to get to the marina in the tidal window to get over the sill had worked. Given what I’d seen on the chart regarding the Deben Estuary entrance, I was cautious but pleased to have sailed through it and all the way up to the Woodbridge mooring without engine power, which was both rewarding and beautiful. “M”, as always, was good company. Not only did she not whimper when seasick, but was a good shipmate despite limited experience. Thankfully, her love of IT and having Navionics on her phone constantly tracking our route, allowed me to look over her shoulder to check our location when helming made it difficult for me, an old Luddite, to check the charts in the cabin.
After a pub meal on Saturday night, a lovely Sunday was spent exploring beautiful Woodbridge. The train station situated very close to the marina allowed us to take a train to the next village of Melton and a walk to Sutton Hoo and the Anglo Saxon burial mounds. The gods were definitely on my side that day because checking the forecast the wind was predicted to swing to NW. Perfect for our return Journey the following morning.
An unfortunate and thoughtless act on my part meant that a sharp squall appeared that night in our relationship. A sensible and wise person would have recognised that the best course of action would be to listen, understand and make peace. Sadly, having been born with a “Y” Chromosome, I defaulted to “Well, I’ll show you”. I had been thinking of whether I could sail the yacht single handed and this seemed a good moment to try out my thoughts.
I set up the mooring lines with Highwaymans hitches with the ends leading to the cockpit. To get over the sill meant leaving at 4.30 am when tide and emerging daylight coincided. So, at the prescribed time with engine warmed up I tugged on the three lines which parted effortlessly from the pontoon and a seamlessly perfect manoeuvre was executed. Sadly, there was no one to see this poetry except “M” who with a knowing look that said “Ok, if that’s how you want to play it” retired to the cabin to let me get on.
With the tiller lashed, sails were raised and with wind and tide working with me, the boat glided effortlessly down the estuary in perfect silence with just the haunting piping of oystercatchers to add to the perfect scenario. Only the icy chill emanating from below to detract from the moment. The beauty of the place eventually had its effect on “M” who came back up to enjoy the scenery but with occasional glances to me that said, I wasn’t out of trouble yet.
The boat glided effortlessly down the estuary in perfect silence.
That old and very true saying “Pride cometh before a fall” was about to find me, but at that moment the Smug-ometer was reading very high. For two lovely hours we sailed down the estuary, “M” having retired back below for a nap. In the wide estuary at Felixstowe Ferry, I could see what I thought was a tide rip and thought that would be perfect to aid our exit to the mouth of the estuary. Heading towards it, I was surprised when we came to a slow halt. It soon became apparent we had hit a sandbank and with the wind pushing us onto the bank and a falling tide, we were stuck.
My efforts to extricate us did not go unnoticed below. “M” appeared, and I was forced to admit defeat and reveal our situation. At this point I would have preferred her to explode and tell me what a fool I was, so I could cover my folly in a good argument. However, it was worse. She made no recrimination. She looked at her Navionics and showed me the screen and the large sandbank in the middle of the estuary where we now lay fast. If I hadn’t been so dogmatic, “we” would have seen this. Flicking to “tides”, she calmly said, “there’s 1.7 metres at 12.30 so nothing for it but to wait”. With that she went back below and put on the kettle and got the pan out for a good fry up.
We had hit a sandbank and with the wind pushing us onto the bank and a falling tide, we were stuck.
Humbled, I was. The intervening hours were spent enjoying the views and patching the hole in our relationship. It turned out to be a lovely time just enjoying the moment. (I also learned that the heads won’t work when the sea water inlet is clear of water! It also gave us a chance to set up a kedge anchor with a warp to the Port winch.
At 11.30 with the tide rising, a combination of engine and winching pulled us off the bank and we sailed around into the correct channel. As we passed a fishing boat I waved and greeted the man on board. He looked at me silently with a completely stone face as only a “local” can. Then suddenly responded with one sentence - “I bet you won’t do that again!” With that withering salute, we headed on out of the estuary. The rest of our journey was thankfully, uneventful and we even managed a passable return to our pontoon.
It was a lovely sail and every trip brings with it learnings and the chance to deal with problems. I felt my planning had worked, new ways to depart a mooring, sailing single handedly if required, setting up a kedge anchor etc. Beyond the practical it also showed me:
- Planning is essential
- Take time to sort out problems.
- Don’t be a cheapskate only having large scale charts.
- Electronic navigation is actually a very good thing – I’m converted.
- No man is an Island.
- Appreciate and treasure a woman who will have your back.
With these learnings I’m now looking forward to planning our next trip. Possibly the Thames estuary and Rochester.
Will keep you posted.
Sail Well,
Teal
