Brightlingsea my first
experience
Fish and chips on the beach as the
sun was setting on Friday night a good way to start the weekend. We left the frazzle of London behind us as
the train pulled out of Liverpool Street and the cranes over Stratford made
way for fields and hedgerows of Essex.
Then a short taxi ride from Wivenhoe brought us to the Old Custom
House in Brightlingsea.
Breakfast at 8 sharp, cooked by
Brian and Mary, was followed by a safety briefing, organisation of gear and
preparation of sandwiches for lunch.
With winds up to Force 6 and rain predicted, we needed to be prepared
for our day's adventure.
The fleet of Wayfarers in the back
yard was prepared, with discussions as to number of reefs and size of sails
required. From the Old Custom House
to the water's edge was a short trundle down the road with the trailers. No wet feet during the launching process
thanks to the dynamic Stewart and Paul, SI and RIB driver, who were clad in
dry suits and helpfully moved the boats to the jetty to allow us to hop
aboard dry.
With the sails up, the fleet was
off just as a storm blew through and we battled for a short time with
horizontal rain. But by the time we
had sailed past the beach huts, the rain had cleared and we were off towards
Mersea.
Soon the tiller was thrust into my
hand. This was the moment of
truth. I had signed up for the weekend,
aware that my dinghy experience had been limited. I was however reassured when after a few minutes of my helming,
we had not yet capsized (thankfully no one capsized all weekend (!)) and it
became obvious that the Wayfarer is in fact a stable boat.
We sailed into Mersea Island,
picked up a buoy and were ferried ashore by the ever-obliging Stewart and
Paul. Having arrived at the West
Mersea Dabchicks Sailing Club dripping wet, we stripped off our outside layer
and gladly went up to the bar for cups of tea and our sandwiches.
Warm and dry, it was difficult to
return to our dinghies, but an exciting sail back to Brightlingsea awaited
us. The wind had picked up towards
the forecast force 5 to 6 and we zoomed back, surfing the waves as the boat
hummed to the excitement of all aboard!
Back at the Old Custom House, tea and cake were eagerly
consumed. The sun had emerged and
weary
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but happy crews sat outside debriefing on the adventures of
the day. For some the debriefing
continued with a pre-dinner pint and, for others, a quick pre-dinner nap.
Mary, the quartermaster, cooked up dinner for 14, a
veritable feast, washed down with good wine and finished up with apple
crumble. Planning for the next day
continued over the washing up and a short stroll down to the pub.
We awoke on Sunday to a glorious day, perfect for the
planned sail up to Wivenhoe to watch the gaff rigger regatta. There was another delicious cooked
breakfast to set us up for the day before we were allocated to our new
boats.
In order to coincide with the gaffers, we had a spare hour
on the water before heading up the river.
This was a perfect opportunity for some tacking and gybing practice
for the less experienced and some more complicated manoeuvring practice for
those who wanted. Towards the end of
my practice session, I had just about figured out how to tack and gybe
without getting my hand and legs in a knot basic co-ordination has never
been a strong point of mine, but under Brian's patience and expertise, I did
conquer some of my fears!
We moored up alongside a pub at Wivenhoe. The sun was out and the grass was green
perfect picnic weather on the lawn next to the river bank. The tide was going down, and the wind had
dropped by the time we were back in the boats heading down the river. Stewart and Paul did have to come to the
rescue at one point when the wind dropped completely, towing all the boats
down-stream. Then the wind filled in
for a beat back towards Brightlingsea perfect for my tacking practice
Back at the Old Custom House, we all had tea and cake in the
sunshine whilst packing the boats up and scrubbing up living quarters. Then it was back to London.
I knew I'd had a good weekend when walking into work on
Monday I was practising my tacking and gybing as I walked down the pavement.
Ed
thanks to Fiona for sharing her experience with us
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