Yay! It's official. It's the start of our sailing season
Except it wasn't, in the end
After picking up Jane from work, we drove down first thing Saturday morning with the car full of all the kit that we removed into dry storage at home over the winter. Lifejackets, foulies, boots and all manner of other odds and ends that disappear into various lockers never to be seen again until the late autumn when they'll get taken home for dry storage!
On arrival on board, Jane quickly made up the v-berth and got her head down while I went walkabout. First stop was a visit to Ironsides to confirm the plan to do something musical (exactly what is yet to be decided!) at the Fambridge River Festival in May. Suitably fortified with a cup of coffee I then headed round to Brandy Hole moorings
Brandy Hole Yacht Club is on the South bank of the river a couple of miles upstream of Fambridge. Getting there means a loop round Battlebridge because despite village names such as "Fambridge" and "Hullbridge" there isn't a bridge until Battlebridge!
There isn't a yacht club these days either, although it still goes by the name it's now operated as a bar and restaurant I believe. The moorings are an independent commercial operation and it was to the yard ashore that I was headed to measure up a job of fitting new rubbing strakes onto a Countess 28
That done I pootled off to Burnham Yacht Harbour for no better reason than to make a nuisance of myself getting in the way of friends working on their boat by standing around chatting! They weren't there though so I headed up to the Co-Op to grab a sandwich.
I'd just about finished that when my mate Tony rang to say they were at Fambridge! (Are you keeping up with this at the back?). They winged their way down to Burnham Yacht Harbour and we wandered around the yard looking at boats for sale. Not for me and Jane, can't see us selling Erbas any time soon, but for Tony and Shelagh who are looking to join in this yachting lark.
Lisa and Marc had appeared by this time working on Artemis so I spent a while chatting and generally getting in the way while Tony and Shelagh went for a look at gear in the chandlery.
Then it was back to Fambridge where Tony and Shelagh booked into their B&B room at the pub for the night and I nipped back to see if Jane was up. She was still sound so I walked round to the pub where Tony and I turfed some young lad off the telly and changed over from the cartoon he was watching to find we'd just missed the kickoff at Twickenham (I could have sworn it was 5:30 but it was 5:00)
Eighty minutes later we'd watched England butcher more try scoring chances in a single match than Scotland have had in the entire championship and what's more allow Scotland to play some rugby and score points. They may rue the relatively narrow margin of victory next weekend.
Shelagh and then Jane joined us and after another drink we moved to a table in the old restaurant for dinner. Then we moved back to the comforts of the sofas in the snug for further drinks. Then we walked back to the marina and went to bed! It's an exciting life, this sailing lark!
Sunday morning dawned grey, quite windy and above all cold. There was certainly little sign of spring being in the air and every sign of rain to come later. I'd had trouble getting to sleep due to indigestion (I knew chocolate sponge pudding and custard was a bad idea but I couldn't resist at the time!) but coffee and toast improved my outlook upon the world.
We set about sorting kit properly into its lockers and generally having a bit of a tidy up before receiving boarders. The boarders duly arrived in good time and the kettle went on.
We had planned and fully intended to go out for a day sail but I'd already warned our guests that this was unlikely now to happen. Apart from anything else, access to our winter berth is somewhat tidal as although we stay afloat at all states of the tide, we'd struggle to get in or out of the berth for a good couple of hours either side of low water.
With low water at lunchtime, this would have meant being out of the berth for at least six hours which would have been fine on a nice spring day. On a day when the temperature was refusing to rise above 5° with added wind chill from the brisk Easterly breeze and every sign of rain on the way heading out for a sail was simply going to be a chore which nobody would enjoy.
So instead we sat in the saloon drinking coffee and talking for several hours! Tony and I could actually keep that scenario up for several days (and have) stopping only briefly to sleep and I can only hope that the ladies weren't too bored by the time it was time to wave our guests off on their way back North!
It was a shame but we had indeed been heavily persisted upon several times during the day and I just can't see the point in stowing the cockpit tent, removing the sail covers and manoeuvring out of the berth in order to spend several hours getting extremely cold, wet and doubtless miserable just to prove that whilst we can sail "Erbas" in those conditions, we'd much prefer not to!
On our own for the evening, we decided to stay aboard and see what we could rustle up from last years galley stores for dinner. And lo, in the back of the locker we found the holy grail of boating grub ...
... yep, the ubiquitous and some would say iniquitous Fray Bentos pie!
There are those who swear by them and those who swear they would never touch them but despite all the tales I've heard about there being no filling in them and what they're made of, I've never actually had a bad Fray Bentos pie.
The challenge here was cooking it sans oven. Actually, the first challenge was getting the lid off! How many yotties does it take to open a Fray Bentos pie? Two, one to hold the tin opener in place, the other to turn the tin round and round. That's sort of how we did it in the end!
After a quick rinse and wipe, the inverted lid then formed a base to keep the tin off the bottom of the pan and onto the hob it went in the double skillet. Forty minutes later, accompanied by new pots and peas, a damn fine repast was served. I ought to have taken a photo of the cooked pie which looked most appetising but I was far too hungry to mess about at that stage!
We then settled down with the bottle of rum (yo ho ho) to watch the final episode of "Wolf Hall" on iPlayer. Jane was none the wiser about the storyline or the plot(s) by the end of six hours than she had been at the beginning and I have to say that even with my fairly extensive knowledge of Tudor history even I struggled to follow the story. Beautifully cast, filmed and produced though.
A hunt around what was available turned up the first episode of the remake of "Poldark" so we streamed that and found it much better viewing. After that it was time for bed.
Monday dawned little better than Sunday had. We broke our fast with coffee alone, neither of us feeling motivated to make breakfast, and then whilst Jane headed off for a shower I set about putting our bags in the car and having a bit of a tidy up below decks.
Then we were off homewards via Go Outdoors to look at footwear and coats. Jane wants something better than her tatty trainers for her feet and I want a decent but rather less bulky shore rig coat in place of my "Farmer Giles" job that has done me sterling service over many years but which takes up the entire hanging locker all by itself!
Neither need was satisfied but we did pick up some other odds and ends such as belt packs for our money and passports, new thermals for Jane and a couple of bits of climbing kit I wanted as part of my plans for getting up, and critically back down, the mast next month.
And then it was home. With a problem manifesting itself with the car in the form of a knocking noise every time we hit a bump or a pothole. As I must be back in Essex by next Tuesday at the latest that might prove expensive.
By the way, I've decided not to include in this blog the time I spend aboard "Erbas" whilst working on other boats. It's boring enough as it is!
