Escape from the river!

 A whole seventeen days on board! Luxury :)

Thanks to the family stepping up and stepping in to undertake Grandpa sitting duties (my elderly father cannot be left on his own these days, which is a bit limiting on what we can do but needs must) Jane and I headed down to North Fambridge on the afternoon of Friday the 26th of July.

We had no specific plans other than a determination to actually get out of the River Crouch for the first time since before covid. In fact, going back through the logs it was August of 2018 since we last went anywhere beyond Burnham-on-Crouch. Ouch! (Sorry, I couldn't resist a rhyme there).

I've blogged all the various reasons for that ongoing situation but it really has to stop sometime.

With malice aforethought, a burning desire to go sailing notwithstanding, we spent the first few days sorting out various tasks on board. None were particularly significant however we felt it needful to have a major clear out of the lockers and the aft cabin, offloading a lot of gear that simply isn't needed on board (accumulated detritis of the various repairs and upgrades plus stuff hanging around from when I was living aboard during the week), and organising the cockpit locker stowage better.

During this time, we were very good and stayed out on our mooring buoy! Even with having to run the suitcase generator every day, we were saving quite a lot of money by doing so and nothing we were doing really needed us to be alongside.

Whilst all that was going on, I ran into Dave the Rigger (DRS Rigging Ltd.) and arranged for him to come out the following Thursday morning to tune our standing rigging. In the meantime, whilst he was out looking at another boat moored just upstream from us he had a quick look at ours and recommended I put about three full turns on everything for now.

This was fairly crucial as the standing rigging had never been finally set up after it was replaced no less than four years ago :o - we'd had all the aforementioned issues and we'd never been able to coordinate a time when the boat was rigged and in the water and we were there and Dave could fit us in.

So I popped out and acquired a supply of new split pins and then set about cranking up the adjusters. It was much better for it, the genoa furling gear for example was now back working as it should (a slack forestay causes the furler to jam up).

The arrangement with Dave did mean we'd have to be back a few days early but the opportunity to get it sorted at last was not one we wanted to pass up.

Spot the boat. Pagan is in shot somwhere!

By Tuesday evening we were sorted out, fueled up and ready to go sailing. So on Wednesday we did! Albeit only as far as good old Burnham for the night but we had a very pleasant bimble downriver under genoa only with the engine off most of the way.

We'd planned to head on out on Thursday but the weather forecast put paid to that idea. We had a Met Office strong wind warning for the inshore waters between Gibraltar Point (North side of the Wash) and North Foreland (the top left hand corner of Kent) and my preferred weather app was suggesting F5 gusting F6 or occasionally F7. Nope, too spicey for us!

Our good friends Neal and Jos offered a trip out by car to Wibblers Brewery in Southminster. Well actually, to be honest, Neal suggested a pleasant eight mile there and back walk with lunch in the middle. Walk? WALK?? Not with my knees and hips!

Jesting apart, not so long ago I'd have been well up for it as, apart from being a bit too breezy, it was a lovely day but I'm not at all sure I could manage it now and even if I could it would be painful. So with good grace Neal offered to drive us all there instead. And it was fantastic! Good beer (I do like a drop of Wibblers and they had a summery pale ale on which was just the ticket), a good lunch and extremely good company.

Friday brought, potentially, the opposite problem. Not enough wind! The forecast was for F2 Westerly and in order to have sufficient tide to get into our intended destination, Bradwell Marina, we'd need to punch the tide all the way out to the Spitway and I suspected we'd not have enough wind to do it. I was right!

To make matters more interesting, when we hoisted the sails once clear of the moorings at Burnham, the mizzen boom fell off the mast! Team Pagan stepped up to the mark and between Jane and myself, we got the sail and boom off and safely stowed down below. I could immediately see that the pin that secures the boom to the gooseneck (the pivot between the mast and the boom) had gone awol.

Whilst not ideal, Pagan sails OK without the mizzen so we motor sailed, and to be honest it was more motor than sail until we could hang a left ...

Friday 3 Jul 2026 Burnham Yacht Harbour - Bradwell Marina 27.2NM ave. 4.6kts

I'd sort of hoped for a beam reach into the Blackwater however the first leg across from the Spitway was hard on the wind. Although a bit unbalanced and heavy on the helm without the mizzen sail, Pagan pointed up beautifully and with the rising tide under us I could hold that point of sail across the shoal waters of Eagle and the Colne Bar thus, I expected, reducing the number of tacks we'd have to put in to beat up to Bradwell.

For once, however, the weather gods were smiling on us. As we crossed the entrance to the River Colne and I started to peer more closely at the chart deciding how far I could push towards the Mersea Flats before tacking, we got a wind shift and were able to lay a course directly towards the old power station cooling water intake just of the entrance to Bradwell Creek.

We were sailing really well, hitting over seven and a half knots at times (albeit with probably a knot or so of tide under us) even though there wasn't a particularly strong breeze. So well were we going that we were overtaking everything else out there under sail! I kid you not, we were sailing past several other boats with ease.

All good things must come to an end though and as we were approaching the cooling intake the wind died away to virtually nothing. No point mucking about, down with the sails, on with the noise machine and into Bradwell we motored, negotiating a berth for a couple of nights over the VHF along the way.

We were alongside and blowing the froth off the first pint in the marina bar before 3pm!

We'd sailing (or motored) 27.2NM in 5h56 at an average speed of 4.57kts and, apart from the mizzen boom falling off, it had all gone well.

Better still, once back on board I found the awol pin under the cockpit gratings and refitted the boom before settling down for the night.

After a brief debate on venue, we'd booked a birthday meal for Jane's birthday (actually the Friday) for Saturday evening in the marina bar.

Saturday we went a viking to raid the supplies at the community shop in Bradwell on Sea. It's a bit of a hike (about a mile and a half each way) but the knee and hip stood up to it fairly well and essentials such as mile and biccies plus some, it turned out, rather good local butcher's sausages etc. were procured. Then it was off to the bar for the aforementioned meal.

Over our after dinner drinks (which followed the during dinner drinks which, in their turn, had followed the pre-dinner drinks!) we debated what to do next. And we concluded that there wasn't a lot of point in moving a couple of miles and that with the need to be back at base by Wednesday we weren't terribly inclined to head further afield. So we decided to stay put at Bradwell for a third night and then decide whether to head back to the Crouch on Monday or leave it until Tuesday depending on the weather.

Bradwell, to their credit, have not jumped on the crazy pricing bandwagon that's been rolling up the East Coast in recent years. Prices for moorings, both visitor and long term, are on the up and up and in many places are not far off the ridiculous pricing we know and know on the South Coast.

Bradwell are still charging East Coast prices and in fact their pricing is such that, depending on how things pan out over the next year or two, we're actually debating moving to a marina berth there.

So there we are in Bradwell on a Sunday lunchtime and what to do? Go to the Green Man of course! Better still, a table was available so we indulged ourselves in an excellent Sunday roast.

Once back aboard, a brief dose of enthusiasm saw the mizzen sail bent back on

Later that evening, it was time to get stuck in to some fairly complex passage planning. The forecast was for F4 Westerly and we'd need some rising tide to get out of Bradwell. Given that a long beat back into the Crouch from the Spitway with wind over tide is a prospect only a masochist or a complete moron would contemplate with any enthusiasm, cutting the corner and sneaking over the Ray Sand offered a much more pleasing prospect of a decent beam reach followed by a much shorter slog into and up the river.

Monday 6 Jul 2026 Bradwell Marina - Burnham Yacht Harbour 21NM ave.4.31kts

This is real East Coast sailing! Get it wrong and at best it is embarrassing, at worst it's a disaster. Running gently aground on a rising tide isn't a big issue. In fact, the Thames barges used to do it routinely, nosing into the creek they needed to get into and then touching and going as the tide rose, letting the boat find its own way. That, it is said (and it's credible) is where the expression "touch and go" comes from.

However, hit the sands of the Thames Estuary at speed and it's serious damage time. It is not forgiving at all. So I had a plan, to sail East out of the Blackwater, hang a right between the mid-river shoal called The Knoll and St. Peter's Flats sailing over the Bachelor Spit and thence down to the Ray Sand. I worked out my tide timings and included in my plan the earliest time I would have enough water to cross the shallows. 

Off we duly went on Monday leaving about 12:45. We made a bit of a hash of getting the sails up just outside of Bradwell if I'm honest but we got it sorted out even though it involved a bit of wandering back and forth getting her pointed into the wind to hoist the sails. It all took the best part of quarter of an hour but no matter. 

Downwind sailing is not my favourite activity but we got along well enough making between 3 and 4 knots despite a foul tide. As we cleared Sales Point and the tide went more cross track, our speed picked up to 5 or 6 knots and by quarter past two we were at the mark to turn South.

Now things started to get a bit leery. F4 my bottom, it was more like F5 rising and gusting 6. We were at times fairly screaming along at well over 6 knots over the ground and hitting over 7 knots at times. I rolled away a good chuck of the genoa and still she romped on. By now, I was thinking about whether to reef the main and the old saw is that if you think of reefing then reef or regret it. However, a bigger concern was looming - my timings were that we must not attempt to cross the drying Ray Sand before 2:30pm under any circumstances and that was predicated on relatively flat water and tickling across at low speed in case we touched. 

Despite my efforts to depower the sails, we kept getting faster! That could only mean one thing, the wind speed was rising. And more wind means more waves. Waves go up and down. Therefore boats sailing over waves go up and down. And down means less water between the keel and the hard stuff.

Crash tack and sails down!

As we started across the sands, we had way too much speed on, we were hanging on the edge of losing control and the final straw was the depth sounder clicking below the 1m under the keel mark. At that point I pulled the plug and crash tacked back to the North again. We rolled away the genoa completely and sort of hove to (ish) head reaching at less than a knot of speed with the depth sounder heading back into safe territory again.

After a minute or two to catch our breath, and with considerable care, I went on deck and got the mainsail down and roughly stowed (although to my annoyance later, the tie I put on to hold the head board down came adrift and we had to put up with the main flapping about rather more than I'd have liked). The mizzen we left up as lowering it would make little difference and unless it's stowed away properly it gets in the way (more of that anon).

With the engine on and another 20 minutes of tide rise, we made our way over the Ray Sand with ample water and no nasty surprises. The nasty surprise (which wasn't really a surprise, we know our home river!) was that we now had a rather nasty and rather slow slog into the Crouch with the dreaded wind over tide. 

That meant giving the engine a jolly good thrashing which, I'm happy to report, it handled with aplomb. In times past we'd have probably ducked into the Roach and anchored for the night in the Brankfleet. However, our lack of fitness and burgeoning chronic health issues do not lend themselves to recovering a heavy anchor and chain with an ancient manual windlass. Anchoring is off the agenda until we can afford to fit an electric windlass (and have the time to fit it). So two great minds thought alike, we looked at each other and, with one voice, said "Burnham"!

The anemometer isn't reading (fixing it is on the to do list but it isn't a high priority) but I reckon we had a solid 20 plus knots of wind on the nose with gusts above that. Not fun. We got into Burnham Yacht Harbour about twenty past five, just too late to get a pint in the bar!

We'd sailed and motored 21NM in 4h52m at an average speed of 4.3kts. Job done.

It had been a bit of a tester and we'd come through it OK. It has, however, up our minds made on a couple of things. Lazy jacks (light lines which hold the sail on top of the boom when the sail is lowered) will be going on asap. Not a particularly big or expensive job. And bringing the main control lines back to the cockpit, something I've previously up my mind not made about, is now definitely under serious consideration. There are some challenges as Pagan wasn't designed with it in mind but they can be overcome.

We stayed aboard for the evening and I cracked a can from the emergency beer stores.

Tuesday we bimbled back up to Fambridge under motor. The wind was still Westerly, i.e. due wrong. but much less enthusiastic than the previous day. With Dave coming out Thursday morning and a couple of trolley loads of "stuff" to offload into the skip or the container, the results of our tidying exercise, we went alongside the river pontoon for a couple of days.

Wednesday we did some shopping and then continued the boat sorting. By the end of the day, there was nothing left on board that shouldn't be on board. Dave came out and did his stuff with the rig on Thursday morning then I set about trying to get the autopilot working better. I'll probably come back to that topic in more detail later but as things stand it isn't working well.

We really ought to have moved back onto our mooring on Thursday but it didn't happen! It did happen on Friday. Saturday was more autopilot fiddling to no avail and then spent some thinking time about how to fit solar panels and other projects in the pipeline.

I decided it made sense to drop onto the pontoon for a couple of hours on Sunday to offload our gear and put some charge in the batteries which were down to 20%. The technical data on the batteries recommends storing them at around 13.4 to 13.6 volts which equates to about 80% of full charge. I was hoping that by the time we'd put the tender and outboard away, unloaded the boat and sorted out ready to leave they'd get up to nearly that and happily they made it to exactly 13.4v.

By now, it was blowing a bit of a hooley from the East 'Nor East and the tide was going out. Yep, wind over bloomin' tide again! It was blowing us off sufficiently hard to make rigging the moorings ready to slip a tricky proposition. Happily, a couple of fellow moorers were about and offered to let go our lines when we were ready which they duly did. I got a little caught out by the bow blowing across rather rapidly and bumped the stern on the pontoon but no harm done (the paintwork doesn't count).

Then we bounced our way back the hundred and fifty yards or so to our mooring and picked it up first go. It is much easier when you only let go three hours earlier and the strops haven't had time to get in a tangle! All that was left to do was to switch off the gas and electrics, close the seacocks, lock up and head for home via the trot boat, the M11 and the A14!

All in all, an unambitious but extremely good and enjoyable fortnight plus aboard. We're next down for 10 or 11 days in September. Weather permitting it would be nice to get even further from base!