dalex
New member
We've just returned from an excellent experience - most of you folk will probably have done al these things a thousand times, but for me, this was all new stuff.
Yes there were problems, but all mostly overcome as any boat trip has.
We left Ipswich too late for our planned passage down to Queenborough, and stayed overnight at Shotley where we took on fuel. With a forecast of near perfect conditions over England from the general weather forecast (I'd not checked the almanac for the time of the 05:20 shipping forecast thinking it was 05:35 - mistake no1) we slipped Shotley at 7am Saturday morning. On passing the end of Shotley approach posts, we were engulfed in fog. Instantly I felt overwhelmed at navigating without a pilotage in what to me is very familiar waters in good viz. I circled around and around whilst the on-board committee offered helpful advice such as "We shouldn't be out here at all if we don't know where we are". Probably right, but being dropped in it, as such, it was sort it or suffer the consequences. I heard a radio call from Harwich vts saying that although the south side was pea soup, the north side of the harbour was 1 mile viz. Eventually managed to orientate myself, and found Shotley spit. It looked as though a whole fleet had the same idea as us, as we were dropped in a line of 5 or 6 boats no further than 2 boatlengths apart. Note to self, radar isn't always as clear as you'd like it to be, especially as the heading was out 15 degrees...
Anyhow, sure enough, the north side was clear as a bell, and off we headed for medusa and the barrow bouys. I really enjoy fast planing, and despite having a dodgy trim indicator on the port leg, set the ride up to reduce slamming and hood a steady 23 knots trim tabs fully up.
From the medway bouy into Sheerness I got my first glimps of the montgomery surrounded by all the yellow markers. Impressive!
My assistant and guide talked me through the twists and curves to sun pier where we tied off for the ladies to grab a few provisions from the nearby supermarket. We were not at all popular with the kids on the pier who were fishing off of it and there was much muttering and gnashing of teeth. Still, they turned out not to be too much trouble, and when one young lady who initially had a fair command of the more colourful spectrum of the english language got a fish hook entangled in her hair, was quite grateful and giggly when assisted by my girly.
A few mins later and electing to make for Rochester, we slipped Sun pier and headed off.
A phone call to the mooring master got us a berth for the night. "Can you handle your boat ok because we're running a strong current through the moorings?" Perhaps I was a bit over-confident in my assistant and guide's ability here...
Handing over the helm, we slid gracefully between two lines of boats on the inside of the pontoon alley. Heading for several friendly looking shore helps, we handed our lines and made fast. We did have a couple of close calls on both sides of the stern as we swung in either too steeply or too shallow to pop the nose against the pontoon. "How many's he had?" questioned one chap on the pontoon....
How the hell are we going to back out of here? was the thought firmly on my mind! Still, that's tomorrows problem, so after a fish supper - off to bed.
We were all up at a much more respectable 9am the next day and after a much needed shower, took in the delights of Rochester. What a truly pleasent place that is? The castle isn't up to the spectacular size and complexity of the castles in my native North Wales, but I reassured my girly, these were only ever needed to keep out the undesireables of France etc, whereas the ones in north Wales had to keep out the Welsh so needed to be much better built!
When we returned to the boat, I was delighted to note that there were maybe 3 boatlengths of space behind my boat, so elected to rope-turn the boat so it was facing the right way out of the alley. With a control line on the stern in case it all went to worms with the wind and current, the boat was fully spun in the gap between the empty side of the pontoon and the moored boats on the inside of the opposite pontoon.
After a quick bite to eat, we slipped RCC and headed for Queenborough. Back through the twists and turns of the Medway and then a hard right at Queenborough spit, holding the shore as close as I dared, with a line to just miss the old pier works and dolphins we spotted a space on the concrete barge.
The mooring master came alongside and took our fees for the night - 8 quid,
Very pleased with my handling dropping the boat up against the barge. My first go at ferry-gliding!
A little later, we took the dinghy to the opposite shore and had a very tasty meal in the Flying Dutchman.
I now of course know that each person wanting to get back onto the visitors landing stage needs a token for the turnstile. I'd seen someone walk through the big gate and assumed that a person inside could somehow release this gate allowing the rest of the party through... No. So a begrudged £1.50 later and we all had our own tokens..
Of course, my assistant and guide forgot the complimentary ticket which sees you right for 4 free tokens.... Grrrr.
A dinghy ride back across the river in surreal darkness and quiet, with our simple torch shone against my reflective strips met the legal requirements. Carefully returning the crew back aboard, our boat was buzzed by a pratt on a jet-ski. No lights, through a quiet anchorage, 40mph easy with a screaming girl passenger. Do some people just not see the danger in what they do?
The return trip up the barrows to haven meant a bumpy and slopy ride with speed going between 11 and 16kts without any adjustment to the throttles saw us back at the haven with plenty of water for the notorious Deben bar. That I was ready for. What I didn't expect was to be cut up with nowhere to run on the mid knoll bouy by an oblivious solo dinghy sailer hell-bent on pushing me onto the bouy. I'd managed to get through a huge regatta without a hint of a close call, to be met by this joker at what I'd call my most vulnerable point of the trip.
We were just abeam the entrance towards my new berth and were hailed by a yacht who'd lost power. Due to the timings, I didnt have enough water to take him all the way up to woodbridge, but secured him alongside and maneuvered him onto a swinging mooring, assuring him I'd call him on 16 in a few minutes to sort out some better help.
By the time we'd secured and called him, he was already being towed up-river. So that was another 'first' for me also! AN alongside tow of a stricken yacht for a bit!
I'm totally happy with such a brilliant experience, and have done more real boating in 4 days than I've done in the whole time I've had the boat!
Please could someone let me know when the next summer is due?
Yes there were problems, but all mostly overcome as any boat trip has.
We left Ipswich too late for our planned passage down to Queenborough, and stayed overnight at Shotley where we took on fuel. With a forecast of near perfect conditions over England from the general weather forecast (I'd not checked the almanac for the time of the 05:20 shipping forecast thinking it was 05:35 - mistake no1) we slipped Shotley at 7am Saturday morning. On passing the end of Shotley approach posts, we were engulfed in fog. Instantly I felt overwhelmed at navigating without a pilotage in what to me is very familiar waters in good viz. I circled around and around whilst the on-board committee offered helpful advice such as "We shouldn't be out here at all if we don't know where we are". Probably right, but being dropped in it, as such, it was sort it or suffer the consequences. I heard a radio call from Harwich vts saying that although the south side was pea soup, the north side of the harbour was 1 mile viz. Eventually managed to orientate myself, and found Shotley spit. It looked as though a whole fleet had the same idea as us, as we were dropped in a line of 5 or 6 boats no further than 2 boatlengths apart. Note to self, radar isn't always as clear as you'd like it to be, especially as the heading was out 15 degrees...
Anyhow, sure enough, the north side was clear as a bell, and off we headed for medusa and the barrow bouys. I really enjoy fast planing, and despite having a dodgy trim indicator on the port leg, set the ride up to reduce slamming and hood a steady 23 knots trim tabs fully up.
From the medway bouy into Sheerness I got my first glimps of the montgomery surrounded by all the yellow markers. Impressive!
My assistant and guide talked me through the twists and curves to sun pier where we tied off for the ladies to grab a few provisions from the nearby supermarket. We were not at all popular with the kids on the pier who were fishing off of it and there was much muttering and gnashing of teeth. Still, they turned out not to be too much trouble, and when one young lady who initially had a fair command of the more colourful spectrum of the english language got a fish hook entangled in her hair, was quite grateful and giggly when assisted by my girly.
A few mins later and electing to make for Rochester, we slipped Sun pier and headed off.
A phone call to the mooring master got us a berth for the night. "Can you handle your boat ok because we're running a strong current through the moorings?" Perhaps I was a bit over-confident in my assistant and guide's ability here...
Handing over the helm, we slid gracefully between two lines of boats on the inside of the pontoon alley. Heading for several friendly looking shore helps, we handed our lines and made fast. We did have a couple of close calls on both sides of the stern as we swung in either too steeply or too shallow to pop the nose against the pontoon. "How many's he had?" questioned one chap on the pontoon....
How the hell are we going to back out of here? was the thought firmly on my mind! Still, that's tomorrows problem, so after a fish supper - off to bed.
We were all up at a much more respectable 9am the next day and after a much needed shower, took in the delights of Rochester. What a truly pleasent place that is? The castle isn't up to the spectacular size and complexity of the castles in my native North Wales, but I reassured my girly, these were only ever needed to keep out the undesireables of France etc, whereas the ones in north Wales had to keep out the Welsh so needed to be much better built!
When we returned to the boat, I was delighted to note that there were maybe 3 boatlengths of space behind my boat, so elected to rope-turn the boat so it was facing the right way out of the alley. With a control line on the stern in case it all went to worms with the wind and current, the boat was fully spun in the gap between the empty side of the pontoon and the moored boats on the inside of the opposite pontoon.
After a quick bite to eat, we slipped RCC and headed for Queenborough. Back through the twists and turns of the Medway and then a hard right at Queenborough spit, holding the shore as close as I dared, with a line to just miss the old pier works and dolphins we spotted a space on the concrete barge.
The mooring master came alongside and took our fees for the night - 8 quid,
Very pleased with my handling dropping the boat up against the barge. My first go at ferry-gliding!
A little later, we took the dinghy to the opposite shore and had a very tasty meal in the Flying Dutchman.
I now of course know that each person wanting to get back onto the visitors landing stage needs a token for the turnstile. I'd seen someone walk through the big gate and assumed that a person inside could somehow release this gate allowing the rest of the party through... No. So a begrudged £1.50 later and we all had our own tokens..
Of course, my assistant and guide forgot the complimentary ticket which sees you right for 4 free tokens.... Grrrr.
A dinghy ride back across the river in surreal darkness and quiet, with our simple torch shone against my reflective strips met the legal requirements. Carefully returning the crew back aboard, our boat was buzzed by a pratt on a jet-ski. No lights, through a quiet anchorage, 40mph easy with a screaming girl passenger. Do some people just not see the danger in what they do?
The return trip up the barrows to haven meant a bumpy and slopy ride with speed going between 11 and 16kts without any adjustment to the throttles saw us back at the haven with plenty of water for the notorious Deben bar. That I was ready for. What I didn't expect was to be cut up with nowhere to run on the mid knoll bouy by an oblivious solo dinghy sailer hell-bent on pushing me onto the bouy. I'd managed to get through a huge regatta without a hint of a close call, to be met by this joker at what I'd call my most vulnerable point of the trip.
We were just abeam the entrance towards my new berth and were hailed by a yacht who'd lost power. Due to the timings, I didnt have enough water to take him all the way up to woodbridge, but secured him alongside and maneuvered him onto a swinging mooring, assuring him I'd call him on 16 in a few minutes to sort out some better help.
By the time we'd secured and called him, he was already being towed up-river. So that was another 'first' for me also! AN alongside tow of a stricken yacht for a bit!
I'm totally happy with such a brilliant experience, and have done more real boating in 4 days than I've done in the whole time I've had the boat!
Please could someone let me know when the next summer is due?
