How not to do it

As you may have realised if you've read my previous blogs, the recurring theme has been running aground. This story happened towards the end of the 2009 season and features the most significant grounding under my current owner. He had planned to sail round to The Blackwater and pick up a couple of friends and spend the week visiting new spots then return to the Crouch. To get round the Spitway with the tide meant a very early start, to soften this he decided to anchor in the Roach entrance and set off at first light. The engine had been playing up a bit so we anchored under sail, no dramas. The night at anchor was wet but uneventful.

When it came to weighing anchor the weather was very overcast and still dark. The engine started OK but halfway through weighing anchor it stalled. He got the anchor up and lashed and the jib unfurled in record time. So off up the Roach to the Crouch in the dark. The engine started again but stalled after about 5 minutes. The very first light was coming up but it was still dark. For some reason the echo sounder was stuck on 7m. With a southerly wind the trip out of the Crouch should have been simple. It wasn't! My owner let me drift towards the North lee bank and with the tide in full flow out of the river it was neigh on impossible to tack me round to make ground up to wind. Rather than gybe all the way round he kept trying to head-up but continually lost ground down wind. It was obvious that he wasn't going to make it. Next thing we knew my steering was getting heavier and then the inevitable happened, we stopped.

It was getting lighter now, the situation was becoming clearer. The fool had let several situations conspire to create a serious grounding at half tide. The best we could hope for was 6 hours on a lee shore and that the wind wouldn't increase. We took the ground gently and he managed to get the boat to lie leaning towards the shore. As the water dropped and the waves reduced things settled down. It was a lovely morning

The sun rise was excellent and the clouds made a dramatic view towards the North Sea.

 
Looking back from where we'd come there was obvious signs of ploughing the mud.

As soon as things settled down he put up the anchor ball and then tried to swing the anchor out as far as possible towards the fast retreating water. So he was going to pretend that he'd anchored here, unbelievable. About an hour later the Foulness Range Safety vessel Anna Maria, I think she's called, came over for a look. Owner stayed below! As the tide started to come back in he got the outboard onto the bracket and then tried laying an anchor astern. The wind was still blowing us onto the bank and the flood tide was pushing us backwards but was we came upright the outboard helped pull the stern into wind and out into the river. The stern anchor was retrieved and then the main anchor was weighed as the chain became more vertical. Then it was back to Bridgemarsh as we'd missed the tide for getting to the Blackwater.

I was completely covered in mud, it took a couple of hours with a mop and hose to clear this off.

What was wrong with the engine? Almost definitely the fool had put too much oil in as when some oil was sucked out it ran without a problem. Just hope there was no long term damage. The echo sounder started reading properly again when the batteries were changed-over. Probably a case of low volts. This was finally proved when the the wiring to the echo sounder was replaced after several instances of intermittent behaviour. Why the problem with tacking, well everyone told him this but the fool wouldn't listen. Having a large 4 stroke outboard onboard upset the trim and made tacking difficult. This has since been resolved.

Lessons learnt but some were so obvious that they didn't need learning.

Blackwater and back

After the delivery trip from Woodbridge in April 2009 life settled down for a while. Living on the Crouch was OK to start with, the would be ship wright cum bodger spent time tinkering with various bits trying to make me easier to handle singlehanded. A couple of trips down the Crouch then the first big one. My Owner brought a friend of his over for a weekend away at the end of May 2009. We set off from Althorne a little late for the tide so getting up to the Spitway was tight but we went for it as the wind was from the South and ideal for the run round to Bradwell. The tide turned on the way into the Blackwater so getting into Bradwell was later than expected but all went well.

A couple of beers in the Green Man, not sure they'd ever seen an oriental gentleman from Persia before judging by the looks we got. Still, he chatted up the bar maids which wound the locals up nicely.

Plan for the way back was to get up early, catch the falling tide out of Bradwell and the Blackwater then an hour or two against it to the Spitway and through to The Crouch on the rising tide. What could go wrong. You've guessed it, something did go wrong. On the way out of Bradwell my muppet of an owner ran aground in Bradwell Creek on a falling tide. So change of plan, when we did leave he decided to go for the Ray Sand Channel. Now if any of you have heard of this channel you will know that it is a myth and legend. At some point in the past it probably was a navigable channel. Now it is just the bit of mud that joins Buxey Sand to Ray Sand and the Dengie Flats, for sand read mud. Anyway, off we set, four hours later than planned, deadline detirmined by my owner's friend who had a flight booked back home, so no pressure.

Nothing broke and I kept my side of the bargain. I went where I was pointed, my engine behaved and my sails went up and down when they wanted them to. I know the mud through Ray Sand Channel is soft but I didn't really want to sit in it for too long and the plan they concocted would indicate that this might be about 2 hours. I could tell that my owner was anxious, nervous and bascially scared. The depth was getting less and less and time was against us. Luckily there is little water flow in the Ray Sand Channel so we weren't pushed backwards. The reason there's no flow is because there water can't get through. I draw 1m, I know this after we hit the sill leaving the Tidemill Marina in Woodbridge. The echo sounder was showing 1m! Then it was showing 0.9m and I could feel the slime. We weren't even up to the shallowest part yet. For a very brief period, maybe a minute or so, the sounder showed 0.8m and it felt like motoring through warm treacle. Then it started to get deeper, phew. I was all set for a gentle rest in the mud but my owner seemed to loose several stone in nervous energy.

Then is was plain sailing back to Bridgemarsh. Kind of a typical trip really. Ran aground twice, missing the tide and almost my owner's friend's flight. There are photos but I won't put them up just yet to protect the innocent.