Havengore Creek

'Havengore' is an appropriate name indeed for this creek as its indent lays among many others that finger their way through and around the marshy banks that surround this 'haven'. To account for the rest of the name we can take a look at the Old English where 'gore' means mud. Like most places I explore there is no shortage of the stuff here either. I took a walk (literally, and not recomended unless you have a pair of magical floating wellies like mine) down the gut of Havengore Creek where I risked loosing another camera, even my person, in dodging the suction of quicksand to get an up close look at the gut of the creek and how the seabed is formed here. It truly is a wonderful place where if the mayor of London has his way the adjacent sands will be put to the slaughter of jet engines and thousands of acres of concrete, unless that is, we can find some rare bat species that nests in the four nearby wooden navigation spars! Or maybe we could bottle the unique Essex brown stuff, label it 'only found in these parts' and 'natural healing' and sell it worldwide at carnivals and village fetes and of course on Ebay. But then maybe people will flock here to lay naked all over and about the sands, yeah they may put a few quid in the local economy to but it just wouldn't look right would it.. Wouldn't  that be cruelty to seabirds...

Mud aside, whether you come through here in a 80' spritsail barge or a 16' dinghy such as my cruiser Shoal Waters you will find an average depth around  5 or 6 feet, a little more at springs.
For visual indication there are four tall spars that can be followed in from seaward. I won't bother with any bearings as it is best to check your own charts for these or they can be found on the appropriate sites, but the first three spars are in a straight line so can be transited and will bring you to the last one at the mouth of the creek which has numerous horizontal bars. At this point you are on the Broomway and are close enough to pick out the metal port and starboard withies. As you come to the first port withie there is quite a large raised shoal which will diminish your depth dramatically by a couple of feet so it would a good bet to keep near to these. At this high point what water is left is running back towards the Havengore bridge.
If I am going round to the Thames I cut across to the Inner Shoebury which can be seen from hereabouts. There are quite a few other marks and short stumps not visible near high water and there could be ordnance remains laying about at times to which you may strike but you would be very unlucky if this were to happen. There is without doubt a certain amount of risk in using this route and the skipper must make acurate tidal allowances but if your vessel can take the ground at most it will be an inconvenience to become grounded - more a delightful rest on the mystical sands.

Facing south-east toward the outer two spars

The inner of the three in-line spars. From here you can see the Broomway spar

Broomway spar facing south-east to the outer three spars

pronounced shoal facing Havengore Creek and the first port withie

At first port withie and able to make a fare judge of depth from this mark which was about nine foot

Beside the withie in the gut of the creek

There is also a wreck marked by a spar topped with two black balls. This is unlit to so if running in south of the three in line spars take care. I Had a close look at this wreck and it looks to be an MFV of wooden construction and still has a china sink in situ. If anybody knows the vessels name please let me know.

Wreck on the Maplin Sands

Another shot of the wreck. like all the other spars the triangular wire supports have perished

Wooden planking and frames and around three feet high in places

Vanishing Coast

The coastline as we know it today along the lowlands of Essex is thought to have extended much further east, out to the open sea. I see evidence of this in many areas such as the fort of Othona, half of which has been lost to the sea since the Romans built it in around 1st century AD. But there are more obvious signs of this progressive "land grab" inside the dozen or so East Coast rivers, and in particular the wider shallower estuaries such as the River Stour and Blackwater where the low water line we see today was in fact at one point in time the high water mark. To say exactly how long ago would be conjecture so one can only guess but more than two thousand years ago would be likely. In more recent times we have suffered damaging floods - the tragic floods of 1953, 60 years ago, were remembered just a few months ago. Our answer to this progressive erosion of our low coasts was the building of high seawalls by the Dutch which today flank the lowlands of Essex all the way up to Suffolk where we find the trees sit high and gently come down to the sea. For most people perhaps, the seawall is a minor detail but wherever I go I am intrigued if there is an absence of a seawall and whether it is due to being on higher ground or steep sloping ground and cliffs because for me the high seawall has played such a large part of my interaction with the sea. As a child for instance our caravan sat directly next to the sea, literally fifty feet away, but from the lounge we could not see it as like everyone else around we sat below sea level and were guarded over by the seawall. But jump across the borrowdyke where eels wriggled and adders hissed and scramble up the wall and the wide sea-vista hit you like a refreshingly salty slap in the face. What magic that was and how vividly I still remember that same feeling .  Even today I still get the same lift when approaching the sea each time your head pops up over the seawall and as my sailing club sits tantalisingly below it to I get it there as well - great!

So, although we have become accustomed to high seawalls in this corner of England they play an important role in providing respite from a serious threat that is still ever present. Another signal of erosion are the many ancient Saxon fish traps that I come across that have slowly dissolved further away from the shoreline, mainly saltmarsh, that once buffered the coast as a natural defence and has been completely washed away with just a few tell-tale fingers pointing up for air. This brings us back to the idea of the original high water level inside rivers which would have meant they were far narrower than they are now and also gives some weight to one old legend that is "from Mersea Island it was once possible to walk across to Sales Point, Bradwell at low tide". It also adds weight to the ghost tale that is the galloping horse charging across the mouth of the Blackwater from Mersea to gallop down the Dengie coast on the seawall.

This image was taken at low water. It shows an eroded coast quite graphically and how the River Blackwater was once a lot narrower than it is today

Little Sally

 Many thanks to small-boat sailor Tony G for this Guest Writer article in which he shares some of his earlier sailing experiences in Little Sally, a 15 foot bilge keel cruiser.

A First Foray Down The Blackwater Estuary by Tony G

  So there I was, standing on the beach just outside the Stone Sailing Club on the beautiful Blackwater estuary. I had just paid for her and was now the owner of Little Sally, a Sunspot 15 in slightly scruffy to average condition, in need of some paint, varnish and anti fouling. The sails were old, tired but in usable condition. A plough anchor and a 4hp Evinrude outboard engine completed the inventory.

   I joined the Stone Sailing Club and was very soon being offered lots of good advice and practical help from the very friendly and helpful members.  Within a few weeks Little Sally was spruced up, engine serviced by a local mechanic, provisioned for day sailing and ready to go.  I rowed out to Little Sally which was now on a swinging mooring in the tender, a 2.4m dory which although a bit large proved to be a very stable little craft. My sailing skills were pretty limited ( they still are) but I cast off from my mooring in a gentle breeze and sailed downriver with the outgoing tide on a beautiful sunny day. Everything was looking wonderful for my first adventure in Little Sally.  I had no passage plan (I didn’t know they existed) and while sailing downriver decided to visit Mersea Island. Amazingly I reached the public jetty at Mersea without mishap; even managing to gently bump against the jetty, hopefully looking quite accomplished, and tie up. All without even starting the engine. I've got the hang of this already I thought. 

  After a stroll around the very pleasant town of West Mersea, which has the air of still being in the 1950s and a fine lunch in a local café, I arrived back at the jetty. It was now slack tide and even a novice like me knew that I should cast off from the jetty pretty quickly as when the tide returned Little Sally would be pressed against the jetty by the force of the tide and I would find it very difficult to get off. As the Evinrude outboard engine was direct drive, (no neutral) I cast off, drifted with the wind away from the jetty and   attempted to start the engine. I pulled the starter cord, adjusted the choke, pulled again several times but it wouldn’t start. I tried and tried and tried, getting hotter and more annoyed. It still wouldn’t start so I gave up as I thought I had probably flooded the carburettor, although I didn’t smell any petrol.

 The start of the incoming tide was by now counteracting the wind and I was slowly returning to the jetty stern first, watched by an amused audience of holiday makers and children catching crabs off the jetty. To save myself from further embarrassment I unfurled the jib and began to pick up some speed. Soon I had I  raised the mainsail and after picking my way through the moorings had almost reached open water. The force of the tide had now increased but the wind stayed the same gentle breeze with the inevitable result that although we sailed at the same speed through the water Little Sally was not actually going anywhere. Correction, we were again sailing stern first. I tried everything I could think of to increase speed and used the full range of my sailing skills from A to B (well A anyway) but it was no use; I had to concede that I was slowly reversing into Packing Marsh Island. I now know that this a rare skill. It must be because I have never heard of anybody else managing it!

  As Little Sally and I sailed stern first I tried the engine again but it still wouldn't  start. I waited for the thump of GRP hitting land but we were in luck as we just slowly came to a halt stuck in the thick ooze of Essex mud. I lowered the sails and dropped the anchor to ensure that as the tide came in I would not be pushed by the tide further up the mud. Then I had a brainwave. Put the kettle on.

  Soon I was relaxing in the cockpit with my cup of tea, trying to look as if I had intended to stop at this spot. Between sips I pondered on the problem of the engine not starting and decided to give it another try. OK, let's check. Breather valve open, yes. Choke out, yes. Petrol on, no. That’s why it wouldn’t start. How stupid of me I thought, that’s a lesson I won't  forget. I did, of course.  I turned on the petrol and on the second pull the Evinrude started. Little Sally began to forge through the water. As we motored over the anchor I pulled it up, covered in thick mud, and lashed it to the deck, scrambled quickly back to the cockpit feeling pleased with myself for solving the engine problem (even though the problem was caused by me).

  When I was back in the main part of the estuary I raised the sails, stopped the engine and enjoyed the peace of sailing. About twenty minutes later I noticed a grey cone shaped object floating to port about 100 metres ahead and being curious I altered course to investigate. As I approached, the cone turned around and a pair of large dark eyes looked at me. I was surprisingly pleased to meet a seal on my first outing in Little Sally and as I approached, the seals long grey mottled, sleek body slid through the water and dived. I sailed on and the seal re-appeared astern, watching me.  The tide was now in full flood and combined with the steady afternoon breeze we were making what seemed to be a very good speed. I'm not sure how fast we were sailing as little Sally had no navigation instruments.  Eventually I was able to make out my mooring and dinghy opposite The Stone pub (a good landmark for finding the mooring) and made preparations for picking up the mooring buoy. The plan was to pass the buoy about two boat lengths away, turn just as I passed it and use the tide to stop Little Sally and calmly pick up the mooring, just as I had read about in Practical Boat Owner.

  OK I thought this is it, pass the buoy; yes. Turn, and on course for the mooring with the momentum slowing rapidly against the tide. Too rapidly, as about six feet from the buoy we came to a halt and began to fall back. I decided to start the engine. Pulled the cord a few times with no result. I checked that the fuel was on (it was) and continued to pull the cord until the engine was flooded with petrol and I was a bit tired.  I decided to give up on the engine and sail back to the mooring against the tide. However by the time I had manoeuvred through the other moored boats and got to the point where I could  sail back the mooring looked about a mile away. I sailed for about half an hour but did not seem to be getting much nearer. I edged closer to the shore, even scraping the bottom with the keels in an attempt to stay out of the full force of the tide. Painfully slowly Little Sally made progress towards the mooring, allowing me plenty of time to admire the very nice scenery and other boats.

  It took about an hour to get back to the mooring and tie up. Over a cup of tea I thought over what my first days sailing had taught me.

•                     Things don't always go to plan.

•                     Throw out the anchor before going aground.

•                     Running aground isn't necessarily a disaster. On a rising tide you have time to sort out problems and make some tea.

•                     Engines don't always work so improve the sailing skills.

•                     Sailing your own boat no matter how modest is just about the best way of spending a day.

England

 St Georges Day is a good excuse to take a moment and look around and see all that is good about our little land, its rivers and green hills, our wonderful coastline, the diversity of its people, their colours and accents. This little song by Ralph McTell says it all beautifully. England. Enough to want to get out and enjoy it - gone sailing...
 

Quanting

A year has past since this clip was taken but it seems only yesterday that I was quanting  down the River Stort in Shoal Waters. Happy Days.
 

Toolkit

Even the small pocket yacht and dinghy cruiser should be able to find space on board for this useful piece of kit. A tiny LED lamp that I'm using this year as a back up anchor light but can't see why it would not be ok for a main light for the occasional overnight. No car batteries or 12volt wires needed just a few small AAA size batteries and hey presto a bright little lamp. I've added the lanyard for lashing up high onto the forestay and some whipping will add a loop to secure it below by another lashing. My test runs have given one continuous seven hour stint which will cover most hours of darkness this summer but the same batteries gave a further nine hour stint and are still showing no sign of fading. The light is approximately five inches long by an inch round and weighs next to nothing. Something that I found last year when staying afloat and anchoring just out of the fairway was my paraffin lamp had blown out by the severity of rocking motion caused by a passing boat that would send the lamp thrashing wildly in the rigging. I overcame this buy lowering the lamp. and bought a £3.99 12v car inspection lamp from eBay, sealed likely water ingressable parts with sikaflex and keep that in reserve as well, it also makes a great deck light when moving about at dusk. But this little LED lamp (can also be used as a torch), as a stand alone light, is an asset for any little ship and at £5.00 each including batteries, from Homebase, an outright steal.

Archie White

I was able to get up the Orwell quite a bit last year and couldn't help but notice Archie White's old boat. I say old in the broadest terms for as you can see it looked in fantastic condition while swinging from a buoy just off the Butt at Pin Mill. The boat featured on the cover of Archie's east coast cruising companion Tideways and Byways in Essex and Suffolk which was first published in 1948.  I quite enjoy thumbing through my original copy every once in a while. It has a frayed and foxed jacket and a faint smell of cigarette smoke and when turning a page while lying down in bed reading it, it gives a pungent waft of strong beer. The cover has to be carefully removed before reading to otherwise I will completely ruin it. Being a non smoker I find the accumulated aromas that came with the book, which incidentally I picked up from a second hand book shop somewhere a few moons ago now, overload the senses and take one straight back to 1948.  I like to imagine it had sat on a smoke-filled pub shelf for many years, somewhere on the East Coast perhaps and has been thumbed through by hundreds of ale-sipping sailing types; beardy blokes in black wellies and fishing jumpers or garb aficionados in salmon trousers and Breton hats to obtain its unique patina. Inside, all is pristine and the illustrations he has drawn throughout are simply among the best that can be found in any book.   I'm quite sure not everyone who sails can truly appreciate what we have on the East Coast and perhaps that is a good thing and keeps many places relatively peaceful but Archie was "in the know", he knew alright and to quote a few lines from his book "Ditch crawling is good fun. At low tide the restricted water in the creeks is calm and still, unruffled by the wind soughing across the marshes above. It reflects the sky like a mirror. Peeping over the grass-tufted edge of the saltings cumulus clouds sweep across its surface upside down. All is quiet. Even the dinghy's wash is subdued- the little waves merge into, rather than lap, the limits of the tide. High banks of glistening mud rise on either side, blue and grey and sepia, or like a pearl." Wonderful stuff and how marvellous that 65 years after the book was first published his words have lightened the day in 2013.  Archie's work features in other 50 year plus old collectibles that I own, some of them with bent cardboard covers that look quite battered  with a charm only dampened by that musty book smell. I see them as treasure chests where the wonder awaits within. The story of this wonderful boat can be found here

In Shoal Waters A C Stock

  It’s been a long time in coming but worth the wait, yes it is Charlie’s second book titled “In Shoal Waters” A C Stock. I’m not going to review it as that is best left to the experts who like to do that type of thing but can tell you that I’ve read this book a few times now and each time I find something I may have missed and therefore glean more platinum that is Charlie’s wisdom and knowledge of his chosen subject matter written down in his informative and engaging style that for me as a writer, at times, has some hilarious nuggets to.
  Anyone who sails a small boat on the open sea where danger and vulnerability are all part and parcel, and indeed, at times, insanely out of your control may nod in unison when I say this book is mile after mile of dinghy cruising adventure on a biblical scale, particularly his trip in Zephyr down to the Solent and the Isle of Wight.  
   Reading Charlie’s work you will gain an insight into what his type of cruising is all about – sailing, shed loads of it to.
  Chas was the original creek sailor and hundred mile trips were common place, mostly finding himself at the head of a quiet creek at the end of a day’s cruising often just enough nap time to be straight off again to the next destination. With this his second book Charles has sealed the lid on what it is to be a dedicated small boat sailor and in my view this is a must have piece of historical nautical writing. I am only saddened that Charlie didn’t get to see the finished book as it really is a lovely looking and well produced book to.
  The photo on the back cover “The Jolly” says it all.   Purchase your copy here

Shipmate Senior Gaff Cutter Dimensions

A number of small boat enthusiasts that have read the Creeksailor book have asked about the sail plan and various dimensions of Huffler, the boat that I explored every nook and rill of the Blackwater in. Its taken ages to find this as it was on an old SD card somewhere but as promised here is the original rough draft of her rigging and sail plan. It is in Jpeg image form only but is easy to download and study at your leisure.  I will upload  a few detailed images of the bowsprit, sails and cockpit layout if needed as and when I find them but anything in particular just  or email me or leave a comment as others may be of help to.

'

To get you on the water to go creeksailing there is no need to spend more than a few thousand quid at most but if you happen to be considering a shipmate - the boat sits high on the list of no-nonsense, honestly affordable (2K  ish), low maintenance, bags of fun creek-crawlers that actually sail rather well to, a couple have even circumnavigated the UK, and they benefit from sitting upright in mud. The basic boat can also be readily adapted to suit your own needs at little expense. I had a great time with mine and heartily recommend them, particularly if you want to go "ankle deep".. Good sailing, Tony

Lets Go Nautical

   A nautical flavour from Youtube that can set the mood for the small-boat sailor who thinks big. The world is ours, go get it this coming season!

  Before you do, shut your eyes lay back and be taken way down your stretch of water, off to a distant coast - a sleepy creek, or just let your mind wonder to this selection which is a bit of pure nostalgic magic. If you never watched it on TV you may have still heard the soundtrack playing in the background of your own life at the time.

Bradwell

An observation in our increasingly changed environment.

  The soothing coastal views of the Dengie are about to be obliterated by the erection of ten wind generators. This is a favourite stretch of coast for the sheer fact it has nothing on it. I am yet to find out whether the solitude you can find here is spoilt completely when tucked up in Hoo Creek for example, at low tide, when the wind generators just may be obscured from view. My fingers are crossed. But lets make no mistake in saying that Bradwell and the Dengie Peninsular has been one of the last great escapes within an hours drive from London where minds can be unrestrained by solitude, peace and quiet, rejoicing in the simplicity of open and free space. What an experience indeed. And this fact applies to millions of people who can only be unaware of how this part of our "heritage in landscape" is being ruined. In my view you cant put a price on the value that escaping the fast moving confusion and restraining hold that working life has for people. To be in and around the natural environment such as green open space, in amongst the trees or peering over clear horizons across the glittering sea is a proven natural tablet to good health and as a species we need lots of these tablets to exist together harmoniously. Given the choice I would rather look at a space that is clear of futuristic man-made towers that crowd the mind and cast a claustrophobic shadow on ones shoulders when they are in view. There are times and moments to wonder at such structures but while trying to escape the above said is not one of them, but sure when I go into town I expect to see this type of thing and have to wondered why every building does not have its own smaller wind generator. The concept of self sufficiency from the national grid by free energy from wind and solar is one that everyman should be encouraged and helped (cost-wise) to achieve as we have to find other energy sources so I look forward to the day when the man of modest means can walk into their local DIY store and pick up a windgenrator system able to run his home that is as affordable as a video recorder or TV. Would this ever happen though, surely we have the technology now but what about all that cash that is raised from over inflated prices and share holders windfalls...Emm... By clicking on this link you can read a piece I wrote about about the Dengie coast as it was only yesterday.

The health and well being promoting Dengie coast. All to amazingly it seems free from clutter. They came and they saw, and like a parking space, said - put something on it!

Other links http://www.bradwell.info/

http://www.ybw.com/forums/showthread.php?351585-A-very-special-Notice-to-Mariners-for-all-Bradwell-Maldon-based-peeps

Bureaucracyhttp://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2017223/Keep-Grass-Raynes-Park-sign-erected-tiny-scrap-land.html

London Gateway

A staggering amount of lowland has been swallowed by the site but some of the sea has been reclaimed for the dock

Zhen Hua in position at London Gateway dock with "next generation" cranes onboard

 Our cruising area is constantly changing and we are in the midst of some rather historical moments with regard to shipping and riverside developments and the use of our waterways. What with the ground breaking London Olympics and the new lock and docking area that was built there, and the Wallasea Island Wild Coast project dock in the Crouch we also have a mega dock London Gateway which while cruising in the Thames last year I was able to view from a distance being built on the north shore of the river, just below Mucking Creek ( Mucking was mentionend in an earlier Inshore Coast article) Couldn't really make out much as I had to stick to the Starboard side due to shipping movements but the first batch of new cranes have just arrived. What a staggering site they are comming up the Thames balanced on the ship Zhen Hua 26. Take a look here Zhen Hua 26 coming up the Thames

19th Century Cruising

 This just could be an image from a classic boot rally where craft and their boots had begun gathering for an annual meet, but no it was around 0800 hrs on an ordinary October morning-after in a sleepy anchorage in the Blackwater. Two tall ships and two spritsail Thames barges lay at anchor. I find waking up to a scene like this while cruising is truly magical, (not the boots the boats) and I do feel privileged to be able to experience this type of scene quite regularly and feel if nothing else could woo other would be visitors to the area then these should. While sitting in this scene it was an absolutely still morning with the odd quack from a duck and the sound of one or two crew arising to a whistling kettle that whispered across the estuary, and it was also the moment that one can't help but feel as if he has been planted straight back into an earlier time of 19th century sail perhaps, where  scenes like this were a part of daily life.  But then hold on a minute.. they are daily life? As I just said, a scene like this in the 2010s is a common one in the River Blackwater. What makes the scene so special I wonder, it is surly the vessels but just as importantly, the absence any white composite material.

What’s In A Name?

    This is a taster to my Creek Sailor cartoon serial which I hope will become a regular feature of this site.

  Small boaters and in particular creek sailing have become synonymous. Period. I can now close this blog for my job is done. But no, I’ll carry on a while longer regardless, for there is still work to be done in the name of affordable cruising for every man and lady, whether born on the Quay spewing seaweed or in a block of flats in London sucking on car fumes and police sirens.  

There maybe a recession in other fields but creek sailors are now popping out of the woodwork like gunfire sprayed all over the place. You may have noticed how articles are appearing in mags and such like by so called experts of this somewhat “noble art of the humble man”. (Might just possibly be skint though with three kids wrapped round them and can’t afford a big boat). Maybe these folk have become disillusioned by being shouted to from the seawall “you are partaking in a sport” by someone who is short of breath, while sitting minding their own business in a small boat surrounded by mud doing a bit of dunlin watching. About as sporting as a game of I Spy with my  twelve year old - but a Judoka applying a rear naked strangle on a resisting opponent during full contact combat that ends only with the opponents submission. Now that is a sport, a real noble sport and art. 

  These creek sailors are real people though that just cant help but have a little creek in them. For instance there is Mike, or rather “Creekin Flood” as I know him. Never been known to sail on an ebb. He has the words “sailing on an ebb is for fools” tattooed on his winking eyebrow…

  Of course we also have "Creek Watcher Brian", also known as "Armchair Creek" as he will freely admit to doing more faffin and fiddling with his boat while down the creek than anyone in all England ever has, but promises to go sailing one day. When people steal  ideas from this site he does come out with some wise words though such as “success has many fathers and failure is an orphan” or “many people claim a good idea and no-one says I did it wrong”.

  And there’s "Creeky Dave" who’s as nimble and agile as a flying kite surfin over salt encrusted marshland, even though he forever pleads “me back legs are gone”.

And there’s "Creek Boat Fiend" Ian who has had fifty boats for each of his fifty years afloat. He will eye your boat up as soon as your back is turned, advise you of her value and go to any length to get his offer accepted even though she is not for sale. His plus points are he goes for a sail and importantly can tell you what was for sale in the back pages of any 1960s yachting mag.

 Need I mention the name "Creeksailor", one who’s antics of roaming up impossibly shoal creeks (creek sailing), wallowing in mud baths and plucking samphire for use as toothpicks while sunbathing on offshore sandbanks have been revered by boaters in all the globes corners.. .

I’ll introduce the rest in a later edition but if you consider yourself a creek sailor then leave me your  tag. Obviously it must have the word “creek” in it.