Cambridge
School of Navigation John Starkie, PhD, RNR
A day on the Orwell
A day out on the Orwell
22 August 2023
I hadn’t sailed with Adrian since his assessment for Mate, last year. He and Judy had sailed with me some time before that, when they first became members of the Trust.
So Tuesday was simply a day out on the estuary with friends and members.
And what a lovely day it was!
At 0900, as I was putting the kettle on and preparing the boat, the sun was warm and the wind was gentle. Adrian and Judy arrived before the kettle sang, and we were under way before 1000.
We struggled a bit with the mainsail because the reef points were still tied in, and Adrian had to run back and forth on the coachroof. Then we settled to the gentle S’Westerly and made slow progress against the flood.
Pin Mill gave us the expected downdraft and, by now, Adrian was beginning to change from racing mode to cruising.
There was an ambitious pilotage plan which involved rounding Shotley Spit SCM and cruising to Stone Point. There was also an alternative out into Pennyhole Bay or perhaps North past Felixstowe.
By midday it was clear that we might not reach Shotley Spit let alone Stone Point but, as happens so often, there was a good Westerly breeze out of the Stour and we able to make 2 short and one long board up to a mooring opposite Ganges. Adrian suggested mooring under sail, but I chickened out; A decent breeze against the middle of the flood didn’t appeal to me. Over lunch the wind piped up to a good F3.
Then, for the first time in my sailing life, the owner came to reclaim his mooring! He was very decent about it and we slipped as quickly as safety allowed.
Downwind toward Shotley Spit called for 2 reefs in the mainsail. Then, as we turned Nor’West we shook one out and heeled to a good wind helped along by the last of the flood.
With Adrian on the helm that backing S’Westerly carried us well into Butterman Bay before the turning tide forced a couple of short tacks.
The failing wind and the strengthening ebb overcame us at Pin Mill and we handed the sails.
We were aware of the ship coming down from Ipswich (We’d listened to VTS and he’d given someone a long blast at the bridge!) and as he came past Cathouse he sent us the same heartfelt message. But by then we were safely among the Pin Mill moorings, under engine and preparing the boat for Woolverstone. I hope my friendly wave cheered him up a little.
I can’t imagine what it’s like on the bridge of a biggish vessel, constrained by its draft, negotiating a narrow, twisting channel full of yotties. It must seem that we all want to cross the channel ahead of him, and he must worry that we haven’t seen him. What a relief it must be to find the deep water channel out of Felixstowe.
On a previous assessment sail in Nancy Blackett I had waited to cross the deep water channel while several container ships came and went. Then, as we began to cross, another had appeared from behind Landguard Point. To my astonishment, we heard, over the radio, VTS ask the ship to slow down while we crossed.
At the end of a lovely day and a wonderful sail Nancy Blackett slipped into her mooring. I dropped a line over the after cleat and Adrian took a turn ‘round the forward. We took our time snugging the boat down and locking up.
The A14 was not busy, Margaret had supper in the oven and her company and a glass of wine made a perfect end to a perfect day.
Ann and Mark
20 May 2024
Ann is a charming lady member who lives, and works, with her family in Switzerland.
She was on a visit to Suffolk (her first time in that lovely county) and decided to spend a day on Nancy Blackett.
Mark and I were privileged to be Mate and Skipper for her trip.
I had hoped to embark Ann in Ipswich Docks. I had thought that the lock, and the contrast between the industrialised upper reaches and the sylvan lower reaches of the estuary might be an interesting experience.
Sadly, Associated British Ports were unresponsive. They didn’t even reply to my emails and ‘phone calls.
In the event, Mark collected Ann from Ipswich station while I prepared the boat.
And it started to become a beautiful day. The sun shone. Fluffy white clouds (the beginnings of fair-weather cumulus?) drifted across a blue sky in the gentle N’Easterly.
As we motor out of the marina Mark always stands between the bows to warn of traffic in the river. It’s a kind of ritual: based on safety but no-one expects a problem. And today ukd Orca was coming up with the last of the flood.
Fenders in, sails up, engine off and we were at peace.
A close reach to No 6, a broad reach down to Pin Mill and then a long, closer reach toward Collimer Point. Now and then a stronger breath of wind would heel the boat, but not enough to think about easing sheets.
It was a playful wind. It lulled us into a dreamy reality of reaching in flat water; of quiet conversation about career opportunities in common; of being at peace with the water and the the world. And then it would skip ahead of us, like a naughty child, and flap the sails “I’m still here, old man, don’t ignore me!”.
Then, having caught our attention, it would wander away to play elsewhere, leaving us becalmed and drifting.
Below Pin Mill, at No 4, there was something big and yellow, stopped in the water. Mark’s binoculars revealed the familiarly difficult-to-find ball-diamond-ball, and it became clear that ukd Sealion was laying buoys at the edge of the channel.
I had thought (although I have no idea whence the thought arose) that the day was to be short, and that we needed to get back soon, but no-one else seemed to think the same thing.
We put the boat onto a buoy near Levington Creek and relaxed in the cockpit over lunch and quiet conversation.
Returning up the channel is often a small anti-climax; ‘we’ve been here, done that; let’s get back’; but today was better; easier; more relaxed. As we set off Mark spotted ukd Orca coming down under the bridge, and then the tops’l and brailed mains’l of a Thames barge passing Cathouse. We all three passed one another NE of Grog.
My approach onto the mooring was not good. I had allowed for the ebb and the wind was small, but my judgement (the first time for some months) was poor. We didn’t collide with anything; I just missed everything!
Ann was brilliant. She helped with every aspect of closing the boat down and then gave both of us a gift of Swiss chocolate.
Mark took her back to Ipswich station while I wrote up the logbook and locked the boat.
I have the strong feeling she’ll be back to Nancy Blackett with friends and family.
Sam and Stephen
23 May 2024
Stephen arrived just before 0620 and we were on the road by 0630.
After a brief muddle with villages we picked Sam up at about 0700.
After an hour’s delay within one mile of junction 56 on the A14 we arrived at Woolverstone and lit the kettle aboard Nancy Blackett.
It started a few weeks ago when Sam asked whether anyone gave formal courses on the use of electronic navigation. He sails an old crab boat out of Brancaster, and plans his pilotage by walking the drying channel at low water. His children, brought up with electronic aids, had said “It”s easy Dad; just follow the menu.”
The answer (about courses), of course, is “no”.
Let me confess (boast?) up front: I don’t wholly approve of electronic navigation.
I agree it can be a useful aid to planning. On the water I have seen it become a dangerous distraction.
My son Stephen (a family member of the Trust), on the other hand, is a computer wizard.
Actually, both sons are, but Stephen is a professional. Like his brother, he’s also a very competent sailor and, now, a Mate with the Trust.
We decided to go sailing so that Stephen could practice his magic and Sam could learn.
Sadly, Adrian, my Mate for the day, had to drop out to look after Judy, recovering from surgery. Stephen would take his place.
The day was cold and blustery. With Adrian aboard I would have opted for one, maybe two reefs in the mains’l. With Stephen and Sam focussed on their tablet screens I decide on no sails; we would motor all the way.
It was more enjoyable than any of us expected!
Under electronic pilotage from the other two I motored Nancy Blackett, buoy by buoy, down to Felixstowe.
We spent half an hour, jilling between the Shotley Spit SCM and the yellow Special, watching an MSC container approach from the deep water channel, turn with the help of her tugs and then moor alongside. By now the wind was quite strong and a spare tug stood by in case of need. A tiny launch (HM?) bustled about among them.
Sam and Stephen monitored my position on their screens and consulted the AIS about the container, the tugs and the yachts which pushed through. I monitored the boats which the AIS couldn’t see.
Mission completed to everyone’s satisfaction we turned back toward Woolverstone.
With the wind behind us and on our port quarter we flew just the jib. The stays’l was still in its bag! And the main was lashed down with the crutch in place! The return was peaceful but, against the ebb, it was slow.
Once into the mooring we put the kettle on and reviewed the day. We had learned a lot.
Stephen learned that he still loved boats, and computers and navigation. He prefers sailing to motoring, but understood why I hadn’t set sails.
Sam learned about electronic navigation and how to use Navionics on his iPad.
I learned that electronic navigation is a very useful planning tool and that, on the water, eyes outside the boat are better than screens inside the boat.
AIS is thought of as a powerful tool; which it is. It tells you where the transmitters are and what they are doing, and so much more. It does not tell you where the boats are which are not transmitting. They are the dangerous ones.
David, Charlotte & Teddy
This is not David, Charlotte or Teddy.
This is Robyn, cabin boy for the day.
A Blustery Day Out
15th June 2024
Perhaps I should have cancelled.
On Friday I sent out a passage plan with the most recent weather forecast. In my covering e-mail I said that stronger winds than expected were forecast. I misled David into thinking that I was planning to cancel.
Perhaps I should have cancelled.
On Friday morning I received an e-mail from the regional secretary of the Dinghy Cruising Association to say that gale force winds were forecast for the Orwell and Stour, and that he would not be launching. I checked my own forecasts again.
Perhaps I should have cancelled.
Stephen and Robyn arrived at 0630 in bright morning sunshine and a SW F2 to 3.
The drive from Cambridge to Woolverstone could hardly have been better. There was virtually no traffic on the A14. We had the visors down to protect our eyes from the sun in the East. With no delays we were on the boat by 0745. David ‘phoned at 0800 to ask whether the day was still on.
Perhaps I should have cancelled at that point, but I said “Yes! The kettle’s singing, the stays’l is hanked on, the biscuits are waiting.” David, Charlotte (Charlie to you) and Teddy arrived on time, at 0900. We fitted lifejackets, explained the heads, chatted about safety and then singled up.
Nancy Blackett behaved perfectly out of the mooring. There was no traffic in the estuary. I let Charlie take the helm to Cathouse and then N’West while Stephen and Robyn put two reefs in the main. Then I brought her to the wind while they set the sail.
We turned downwind; the first squall veered the wind 90 degrees and laid her over. Then it veered another 90 degrees and headed us.
The first squall was over, and the wind backed through nearly 180 degrees dead astern. Wary of the gybe I persevered to the No6 and turned to windward and Pin Mill.
We all know that flaw of wind that flows down the valley and either lays us over or accelerates the boat past Grog and I was ready for it. I was also fearful of a following wind; I hate accidental gybes, especially in unpredictable squalls.
Should I have cancelled?
Ever willing, even eager, Stephen and Robyn handed the main and set the stays’l and jib.
Oops!
The jib ha’lyard was so slack that the sail almost filled with water. David and I furled it again and Stephen and Robyn hauled the ha’lyard. To quote Stephen: “I could now play bass guitar on that ha’lyard!”. I took an extra pull on the running backstays, but I like stay tension almost as little as I like accidental gybes.
With both headsails drawing, the wind on the starboard quarter, I let Robyn take the helm. Between Pin Mill and Levington she learned how to use transits to guide the boat where she wanted to go (actually, to go where I wanted her to go!).
Below Pin Mill there was a lot of sail traffic. They all seemed to be going in different directions. Some were tacking through 180 degrees, some through 360 degrees. It was so chaotic that I thought they might be starting a race, but I heard no guns or hooters. To play the game I turned Nancy Blackett through 180 degrees, back up-channel, and decided to moor for lunch.
Ever eager, ever willing, ever playful, Robyn and Stephen found the boat hook and pointed to their preferred buoy. Somewhere off my starboard quarter! OK! I can play those games too! A little bit of tide, a touch of reverse and forward, a lot of wind and Nancy Blackett eased sideways and backward to lay the buoy under the starboard whisker stay. Stephen plucked the pennant out of the water and onto the bitts and I turned off the engine.
And then the real squall came. The wind screamed and the rain lashed. We were soaked before we could get below.
But Nancy Blackett has a cozy and welcoming cabin. When the kettle sings, luncheon is on the table and the friendly chatter begins I understand why Ransome liked the boat so much.
The squall ended but the wind stayed. When we let go the buoy and motored away the boat heeled under the pressure of wind on the spars alone.
Should I have cancelled?
I asked Charlotte (Charlie) to take the helm. For the next hour I have rarely seen a lady so happy! She helmed against the wind and rain all the way back to Cathouse, which was where she had started and where she learned about cats and smuggling and Revenue boats. Eight year old Teddy was happy, too, as Stephen spent the time teaching him useful knots. Like how to tie shoelaces! Like how to join two pieces of string to make a longer piece of string!
Motoring into the Marina, at the very beginning of the flood, I remembered how I had missed everything, including the pontoon, on my previous outing. This time was more accurate. Stephen stepped ashore with a bow line, I dropped a bight over the after cleat, and we snugged the boat down.
And the weather howled and rained again!
The erstwhile Loch & Quay restaurant was still closed so we looked into the RHYC, as visiting yachtspeople, for coffee. The sun blazed down on the lawn, the small breeze rippled the estuary, and our wet clothes steamed gently. We drank hot coffee and watched a couple of dinghies sailing serenely with the growing flood.
I’m glad I didn’t cancel. I think we’ll see David, Charlotte (call me Charlie) and Teddy again.
John Starkie
16 June 2024
Two days of Training and Assessment
31 July
This was to be a training and assessment day (or two). It had been requested by one member and we were joined by three new members. For this reason I expanded the safety briefing a little, emphasising the need for lifejackets and harness tethers and the difficulty of recovering a person overboard.
We sailed down with the tide and Diane piloted the boat out along the small craft track South of the deep water channel and North past Wadgate Ledge SHM. She quickly learned the value of a bearing compass.
The swell became very rolly and bouncy.
Heartless tyrant that I am, I turned off the engine and lay a’hull.
My word! How she rolled! Robert tightened the running backstays, just in case! And we all tethered ourselves to the boat.
One member of the crew (innominate, to preserve that person’s dignity) went below for a drink and emerged green and sweating, and leaning over the toerail.
I like the fact that Nancy Blackett has no guardrails; they give a false sense of security. Without them crew on the foredeck is always tethered and takes more care.
I also liked the fact that Stephen and Robyn (very new members and very confident sailors) stayed on the foredeck and used the foredeck hatch to access the heads.
Perhaps tyrannical, possibly cruel, but there was a purpose. We took compass bearings on the radar tower of Felixstowe to the East and on a Ferris wheel to the North; a practical application of theoretical position-fixing.
But I didn’t have the courage to send anyone below the plot the bearings on a chart!
At the same time we had the chance to follow the boat’s set with the tide by watching how the bearings to the radar tower and the Ferris wheel changed. If we’d had access to the chart we might also have measured the drift.
Sally piloted us back across the Deep Water Channel and along the yacht track into the harbour and (unplanned) onto Ha’p’ny Pier for lunch.
And on to the next exercise.
On the Northern side of the Stour, close to Shotley Point, is Shotley Marina. The entrance channel is marked by two posts, an East Cardinal on the PHS and a PHM on the other side.
Could our trainees cross the Stour (under engine) keeping one of the posts in transit with the peak of the shed’s gable?
I didn’t explain it well, and there was a little confusion until the Eureka! moment. Once they realised that a bearing is not a heading perfection reigned. There were complete trips across where I couldn’t detect any movement of the transit.
I was surprised to find that, on the last of the ebbing Stour there is a significant back eddy at Halfpenny Pier.
And the next; mooring to a buoy.
Transit lesson learned, everyone made this look easy.
With the tide and a following wind we cruised back to Woolverstone under headsails.
I’m a little ashamed to admit that, because Robert and Diane planned to spend the night aboard, we let them snug the boat down while we went home.
1 August
What a contrast! Yesterday had been bouncy and blustery; today was calm and tranquil.
All sails wafted us slowly upriver toward Ipswich and the lock waiting pontoon. If I’m honest, the tide was providing the wind, although both were half-hearted. The eddies around the Orwell bridge surprised our novice helmsman (must I really write ‘helmsperson’?), but the gybe, too, was half-hearted.
Past Fox’s and the Orwell Sailing Club, opposite 3 coasters resting alongside, both channels 16 and 71 were asleep and the wind gave up. The lock-keepers didn’t answer my call and, at the top of the flood, they had left the lock free-flowing.
But my crew, bless them, were wide awake. A couple of missed approaches (one of them being mine) and everyone moored alongside, both port-side to and starboard-side to.
Picking up a couple of old, discarded plastic bags was a useful exercise, and then we ghosted back to Woolverstone.
I enjoy the fact that Nancy Blackett offers so much pleasure to so many different people.
The winter workers wouldn’t do it if they didn’t enjoy painting, antifouling, helping with repairs and keeping the boat in such good repair. Everyone we meet comments on how well-kept she is.
The non-sailor members all seem to enjoy their days out, and often come back for more. The crews who day-sail the members enjoy the pleasure of a day sail and the giving of pleasure.
It’s wonderful that we are able to train new sailors, and new members, into Nancy Blackett’s quirky ways.
All this derives from the foresight of Peter Willis and the hard work of our committee members; I have to assume that they also enjoy what they do.
John Starkie
2 August 2024