Murv
Well-Known Member
I've just completed my coastal skipper practical, and on one of the trips out we had passed the red sands towers which I'd never seen before.
As the forecast and tides looked favorable, we decided to have a trip out there at the weekend.
Plodding down the Medway in light, but chilly winds
Before hitting the limit of the speed restriction and deciding to get rid of some of that pesky diesel weight :ambivalence:
Approaching the towers
Before dropping the hook. this got a little tense as the windlass decided to resort to its old trick of keep tripping the circuit breaker leaving us with a dangling chain and anchor. Quickly resolved after a brief but frantic rummage through the lockers to find the clutch release handle.
It was slack water, but the breeze meant we ended up a little bit closer to the towers then I would have liked, but the flood tide was due to sweep us further away as it gained and after 10 minutes of idling the engines and watching, we were confident the anchor was holding and there was no unpleasantness showing underneath on the downvision scanner.
The tide started flooding, the sun came out and the calm sea flattened off even more
well, it seemed rude no to...
After a relaxing couple of hours, we headed back in for an overnight (and first time for us) stop at Queenborough.
Having passed the ATL several times during the week, we were confident of getting a spot as it had been deserted all week.
Not so, it was packed! They were carrying out mooring maintenance so the ATL was absolutely full.
We berthed alongside the new floating pontoon a little further down, paid our fee and then settled down for the evening.
Until the lure of the pub proved too strong, anyway, and the dingy lowered.
Having not been run for months, the engine was a little reluctant and more than a bit spluttery. But, with newbies at the helm, in pitch darkness and in a strong tide, what could possibly go wrong?
Well, absolutely nothing. The oars were very much ready to go, but creeping through the moorings we got to the ATL safe and sound.
Another extremely good meal in the flying dutchman and once again, the little dingy proved its worth and ferried us safely back.
A very peaceful night followed, and a stunning sunrise greeted us (well, me, the wife doesn't tend to wake up much before full daylight)
A leisurely breakfast followed before a stiff wind suddenly materialised. The trot boat was running by this time so we wimped out of taking the dingy and caught a lift to the ATL and wandered up to the very handy local shop for lunch supplies.
Just a quick comment on the Queenborough harbour staff, all were extremely pleasant, helpful and polite. It's a not-for-profit trust and the guys are obviously very dedicated to the cause.
It's probably fair to say that Queenborough itself doesn't get the best rep, but it is an extremely enjoyable stop over point.
Anyway, onwards and upwards (upriver) to stangate creek for low water.
Plan was to nose right down to the bottom, drop the hook and then explore the shallows in the dingy.
This was actually great fun and we managed to get to most of the extremities with careful use of the outboard and oars.
After a couple of hours, it was time to pull anchor and head back to the moorings. This actually proved to be a bit of a back breaker as the anchor windlass breaker simply refused to reset and I ended up pulling it by hand.
Anyway, got it back in and an uneventful trip back to the moorings followed, albeit from the lower helm with eberspacher blasting.
Now, I must admit I was a little worried as we approached the moorings. As we had such an incredible run of bad luck with the old boat, and this trip had gone so perfectly well, I was fairly convinced that the final berthing would end in a fireball of splintered GRP.
And, with a gusty wind and flooding tide (it's on the stern on the flood) the scene did appear to be set for some difficulties.
Determined not to be defeated, and very keen not to suffer the humiliation of stopping on Rochester pier for the ebb, I motored in determined to get it right.
And, right it went. If I do say so myself, it was a perfect docking and, of course, to the admiring glances of absolutely no-one as the pontoons were completely empty of the usual crowds when things are going badly...
All in all A great weekend in unseasonable February weather
As the forecast and tides looked favorable, we decided to have a trip out there at the weekend.
Plodding down the Medway in light, but chilly winds
Before hitting the limit of the speed restriction and deciding to get rid of some of that pesky diesel weight :ambivalence:
Approaching the towers
Before dropping the hook. this got a little tense as the windlass decided to resort to its old trick of keep tripping the circuit breaker leaving us with a dangling chain and anchor. Quickly resolved after a brief but frantic rummage through the lockers to find the clutch release handle.
It was slack water, but the breeze meant we ended up a little bit closer to the towers then I would have liked, but the flood tide was due to sweep us further away as it gained and after 10 minutes of idling the engines and watching, we were confident the anchor was holding and there was no unpleasantness showing underneath on the downvision scanner.
The tide started flooding, the sun came out and the calm sea flattened off even more
well, it seemed rude no to...
After a relaxing couple of hours, we headed back in for an overnight (and first time for us) stop at Queenborough.
Having passed the ATL several times during the week, we were confident of getting a spot as it had been deserted all week.
Not so, it was packed! They were carrying out mooring maintenance so the ATL was absolutely full.
We berthed alongside the new floating pontoon a little further down, paid our fee and then settled down for the evening.
Until the lure of the pub proved too strong, anyway, and the dingy lowered.
Having not been run for months, the engine was a little reluctant and more than a bit spluttery. But, with newbies at the helm, in pitch darkness and in a strong tide, what could possibly go wrong?
Well, absolutely nothing. The oars were very much ready to go, but creeping through the moorings we got to the ATL safe and sound.
Another extremely good meal in the flying dutchman and once again, the little dingy proved its worth and ferried us safely back.
A very peaceful night followed, and a stunning sunrise greeted us (well, me, the wife doesn't tend to wake up much before full daylight)
A leisurely breakfast followed before a stiff wind suddenly materialised. The trot boat was running by this time so we wimped out of taking the dingy and caught a lift to the ATL and wandered up to the very handy local shop for lunch supplies.
Just a quick comment on the Queenborough harbour staff, all were extremely pleasant, helpful and polite. It's a not-for-profit trust and the guys are obviously very dedicated to the cause.
It's probably fair to say that Queenborough itself doesn't get the best rep, but it is an extremely enjoyable stop over point.
Anyway, onwards and upwards (upriver) to stangate creek for low water.
Plan was to nose right down to the bottom, drop the hook and then explore the shallows in the dingy.
This was actually great fun and we managed to get to most of the extremities with careful use of the outboard and oars.
After a couple of hours, it was time to pull anchor and head back to the moorings. This actually proved to be a bit of a back breaker as the anchor windlass breaker simply refused to reset and I ended up pulling it by hand.
Anyway, got it back in and an uneventful trip back to the moorings followed, albeit from the lower helm with eberspacher blasting.
Now, I must admit I was a little worried as we approached the moorings. As we had such an incredible run of bad luck with the old boat, and this trip had gone so perfectly well, I was fairly convinced that the final berthing would end in a fireball of splintered GRP.
And, with a gusty wind and flooding tide (it's on the stern on the flood) the scene did appear to be set for some difficulties.
Determined not to be defeated, and very keen not to suffer the humiliation of stopping on Rochester pier for the ebb, I motored in determined to get it right.
And, right it went. If I do say so myself, it was a perfect docking and, of course, to the admiring glances of absolutely no-one as the pontoons were completely empty of the usual crowds when things are going badly...
All in all A great weekend in unseasonable February weather
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