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.