Having tried and failed to get Sunday night off, Jane suggested we try heading down to the boat straight after work last Friday morning. So with a quick pit stop for coffee that's exactly what we did. It was fairly horrible on the way down - when it wasn't raining it was pouring - but as forecast it had brightened up a little by the time we parked in the yard at North Fambridge.
We could have done with being an hour or so earlier as the tide had already turned but the row down in the tender againt the flood tide wasn't too bad with the new decent oars. Instead of paddling furiously to modest effect each stroke now propels her along nicely. When I get around to fitting the new galvanised rowlocks it should be even better.
Once on board, we quickly sorted out to move up to the pontoon and, to my delight, the engine started first pull of the cord - first time I've managed that trick! Once along side we wasted no time in getting our heads down for a few hours. In fact, although I woked up and read for a while before dozing back off, we slept so well that it was well into the evening before we surfaced.
We had intended to eat up the pub but we'd now have had to really get our skated on to make it before last food orders so into the pan went a bag of rice and onto the stove went two tins of beef curry and with some bread to mop up with a feast fit for a king, well a king of very modest means at any rate, was soon on the plate.
After dinner, we settled down to watch "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" on DVD only to find that we'd got the original Swedish version not the (apparently) much better remake. After a while we decided it was rubbish and tried streaming the other version of the film. For once we'd got an effective signal on the 3 dongle and it streamed perfectly. Unfortunately, after another 45 minutes we were waiting for the film to live up to its billing. A thriller? I think not! We didn't fancy the best part of two more hours of boredom so we gave up and turned out the lights!
Next morning we arose, not it has to be said particularly early, and debated what to do for the day. As we'd been invited to dine with friends aboard their boat in Burnham I called up Burnham Yacht Harbour on the VHF and arranged a berth for the night.
Once we'd sorted ourselves out, we set off downriver. I made a hash of trying to sail off the pontoon under genoa - why I tried it I really don't know - but having had the good sense to start the engine in case it didn't work I was able to keep things from going totally pear shaped. Once clear of the moorings, I killed the engine altogether and hoisted the main for good measure.
Of course, although the forecast was for South Westerlys, we had a South Easterly with some extra Easterly in it. In other words, it was just about precisely coming from the wrong direction. Oh well, just got to love beating down river short tacking single handed. Yep, single handed 'cos madam was glued very firmly to the inside of her sleeping bag! It's not her sort of conditions when the boat starts standing on her ear periodically. Meanwhile I was having fun experimenting.
George the tiller pilot wasn't coping too well with the gusty conditions either - at times we were seriously over powered and the tiller pilot was too slow to respond and didn't have enough throw to keep us from rounding up. That didn't surprise me to be honest, I wasn't actually expecting it to cope, but it was worth finding out to what extent it could be used in such conditions. With less sail it would handle it I think and although we wouldn't be as fast on a long short handed beat to windward it might be preferable to being glued to the tiller for hours on end.
Once I'd given George the heave ho and taken control myself, we started making good progress. We were even gradually, if almost imperceptibly, overhauling a small gaff cutter that had left Fambridge ahead of us ... right up to the point where he put in one tack and disappeared around the next bend to our three. I'm still mystified as to how he managed to do it. At the same time, the somewhat larger bermudan sloop that had left some time after us finally overhauled us and completed my misery! One day we'll actually manage to overtake something!
Alright, lets be honest here. Short tacking into a stiff and gusty breeze against a foul tide single handed is savage amusement in a small bilge keeler with old slightly tired sails! Just making any appreciable progress agains the tide at all is quite an achievement. Never the less, I can't help feeling that I'm not getting the best out of her. I really need some time and space to play around with the sail trim and tuning and get a feel for things. Right now I'm just guessing!
Anyway, with Burnham in sight and the moorings approaching I decided I'd had enough fun for the time being and fired up the outboard before putting the sails away. Now George really came into his own as under motor I could simply point her where I wanted her to go and hit the "Auto" button. Very relaxing! As we approached the entrance to the yacht harbour, we realised we'd not dealt with a pressing problem which neccesitated continuing on down river until we were well clear of the moorings and the dinghy racing. Not to put too fine a point on it, what needed to be emtied over the side was not for faint hearts and you wouldn't want to swim in it.
That dealt with (and doing so reaffirmed my plans for a better solution to the toilet problem) we turned about and motored back up and into the yacht harbour. The approach to our allocated berth was tricky in the breeze to say the least and I struggled to get her turned in the tight space available. Finally I got her pointing in the right direction and jammed her into the space a bit too aggresively, Fortunately, a chap was passing by on the pontoon and helped us out by fending her off from the pontoon so it was somewhat less dramatic than it might have been.
I'm still scratching my head over how I could have done it better - small lightweight boats and breezy conditions don't make happy bed fellows at the best of times. If I could have contrived to get crew ashore or catch a pontoon cleat with a line maybe I could have made a tidier approach but I can't see how, in those circumstances, I could have achieved either of those. Another possibility might have been to have jammed the bow against the bank opposite the pontoon and got her turned without the problem of the wind stopping her coming around but then I don't know how much water there was over there and I might have got properly stuck!
Anyway, we were in! Jane headed up into Burnham to buy some towels and wine (an odd combination I know but that's what we needed!) whilst I booked in and then set to sorting out the boat. With a harbour stow on the sails, the decks scrubbed and the lines at the mast tidied up she looked like a proper little ship again. I had planned to sort out the NMEA wiring between the GPS and the tiller pilot but there was a problem - somehow I'd managed to leave the GPS at home. I could have sworn it was in its pocket of the navigation bag but it wasn't. Oh well, we were both feeling a bit dozey so we settled down for an afternoon snooze.
The snooze was a bit too long and we had to rush to shower and change before heading around to join our friends on Laurin for the evening. A lovely home made chinese was well washed down with the red wine from the Co-Op and accompained by much talk of boats and things as you do. This does, however, highlight one of the problems with Brigantia ... it's a real delight to be invited to join new friends aboard their boats and we have been overwhelmed by the generosity of our hosts on more than one occasion but how the hell do you reciprocate when there isn't even room to swing a Manx cat aboard your on boat? I suspect the answer is that we're not actually expected to but that isn't the point!
Back aboard, we weren't long awake before turning in for the night. Once again, I awoke in the early hours, this time due to the rain hammering on the cabin. After reading for a while I managed to doze off for a bit longer but soon enough it was time to make tracks. We'd missed Laurin heading out as she wasn't in her berth when we popped around to say goodbye so without further ado we paid our dues and fired up the trusty outboard to motor back up to Fambridge.
Of course, since we were now heading Westwards, guess what the wind had done? Yep, that's right. In our teeth yet again. I wasn't in the mood for mucking about this morning so the sails stayed firmly stowed away and we made the trip under motor. I fluked a first time pick up of the mooring buoy but of course nobody was watching. Jane had packed our gear away ready so all that remained was to shut down and switch off before calling for a boat ashore.
And so ended a very pleasant if somewhat brief weekend. We're not certain if it was worth while going down straight after work but other than that we were pleased to squeeze a bit of extra use out of the boat. Although an overnight mooring in BYH isn't cheap at over £18 it's worth it for a change of scenery and this being the second time Jane and I have popped in there for the night I very much dount if it'll be the last.
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