You should know where this is... A cycle ride to the boat on the 'Gaffer' takes one through a scented tunnel of thorn bushes before the narrow path brings you out onto the seawall to reveal 'Gods little acre'. When the May blossom is in bloom it is a particularly pretty time, one to be savoured. This is just a small clip to quench the thirst of this coming year, but I have hours of this kind of stuff which was filmed a few years ago.
We have Britain's great train journeys etc but here is one for admirer of our coast from two wheels. At 350 miles long the Essex coast is glittered with many of these magic, unspoilt little acres. Thankfully during the summer season a small sailing cruiser can get to visit most of them.
Friday, 9 March 2012
Thursday, 1 March 2012
Osea Causeway
I have been able to take a close look at the Osea Causeway.
The sudden arrival of this material has given many small-boat sailors cause for concern. I to am concerned for my own safety and that of other small-boaters who cruise in this area of the estuary often. At a first glance, in the least it may seem a little inconsiderate for river users, wildlife and the very nature of this site being an historic monument, but it appears a genuine case of trying to buffer / strengthen the road.
This has been done in areas in previous years, mainly nearer the north shore (when I have no idea). In these areas sea-weed has taken hold which softens the glare of site rubble somewhat.
The immediate concern for boaters is the heights have increased in stretches towards the centre of The Stumble. However previously the height did vary with one or two places near the centre also having extremely large boulders jutting up above the general line of height.
To summarise, shoal draft boats passing over the Osea Causeway need to be cautious as always has been the case, but will need to be aware across a wider area. Of course, high tide would be the safest time to make a crossing and extreme caution (IE minimal boat speed) should be the first precaution taken. Crossing nearer to the centre but to one side still looks to be the best option as has also previously been the case.
This series of pictures was taken yesterday in order to help small boat sailors make a decision about crossing over the Causeway when cruising the north side of the island.
The beginning of the Causeway
Walking the Causeway at seabed level
Pieces of metal poke up in places
More pieces of metal. They look menacing enough but crossing nearer the centre you would be well out of harms way.
The well worn stumps show the line of height the road defences have historically taken
Once the sea-weed has taken hold this should soften the unsightliness.
Looking at the centre of the causeway. This picture is taken three hours before high tide. Larger boulders are still visible mid way across. These hazards are not new, having been there in previous years.
The sudden arrival of this material has given many small-boat sailors cause for concern. I to am concerned for my own safety and that of other small-boaters who cruise in this area of the estuary often. At a first glance, in the least it may seem a little inconsiderate for river users, wildlife and the very nature of this site being an historic monument, but it appears a genuine case of trying to buffer / strengthen the road.
This has been done in areas in previous years, mainly nearer the north shore (when I have no idea). In these areas sea-weed has taken hold which softens the glare of site rubble somewhat.
The immediate concern for boaters is the heights have increased in stretches towards the centre of The Stumble. However previously the height did vary with one or two places near the centre also having extremely large boulders jutting up above the general line of height.
To summarise, shoal draft boats passing over the Osea Causeway need to be cautious as always has been the case, but will need to be aware across a wider area. Of course, high tide would be the safest time to make a crossing and extreme caution (IE minimal boat speed) should be the first precaution taken. Crossing nearer to the centre but to one side still looks to be the best option as has also previously been the case.
This series of pictures was taken yesterday in order to help small boat sailors make a decision about crossing over the Causeway when cruising the north side of the island.
The beginning of the Causeway
Walking the Causeway at seabed level
Pieces of metal poke up in places
More pieces of metal. They look menacing enough but crossing nearer the centre you would be well out of harms way.
The well worn stumps show the line of height the road defences have historically taken
Once the sea-weed has taken hold this should soften the unsightliness.
Looking at the centre of the causeway. This picture is taken three hours before high tide. Larger boulders are still visible mid way across. These hazards are not new, having been there in previous years.
Monday, 27 February 2012
Ship-Shape
No Doubt many of us who were unable to get some sailing in over the weekend, were getting a little further in preparation for the coming season.
A little glimpse at the other side of those majestic sea miles around the estuary and one's ambling along the glorious creeks, also something to chew over regarding the joys of wooden boat ownership.
An apple picked from a tree immediately begins to fade and go off. Place a piece of wood outside and immediately it begins to perish. Nothing new, a billion pound coatings industry has spun from this fact. But whether you are Dulux, Johnstones, Blakes or International eventually the stuff cracks and peels. Even though we may know all this, still we cast our wooden craft to swinging salty buoys and leave them to the blister of long hot summers and cooler wet autumns. Knowing this who in their right mind would do such a thing with their lovingly cherished wooden boat.
Sunlight is good, we all love it, it warms us, invigorates and soothes us, makes us cheery. It dries timber too; expanding, shrinking, twisting. Generally movement that is not wanted on a sealed watertight hull you are going to put to sea in.
While the "woodster" is admiring the grain pattern on his coamings, awing and cooing, suddenly and abruptly he is interrupted by a blistered intrusion to the pure naturalness of the handiwork before him. The GRP built boat owner however could well be polishing and buffing, to finish the same morning with a light rub and oil of the gunwhales. Straight to the pub he goes to be seen sucking on chilled lagers while singing the praises of modern techno. I do envy this owner, I was him! Once... Meanwhile the woodiest is scraping, filling, flaring and sanding. Over many months, or at the least, weeks. His local has gone out of business...
Always the optimist - thankfully the moderate temperature and February sunshine has resulted in the little gaff cutter Shoal Waters gleaming from a fresh coat of paint. Her spars are shining in readiness for the coming months.
I find it hard to beat the warm qualities that natural wood gives you but like everything else there is as always a trade off. Just like the moment you put the varnish brush away to hammer the bent lid back on, only to spot another hairline crack on the boat somewhere you had previously not seen... Scrapers back out! sanding, poking, filling, drying off with the electric fan heater before prizing that bent lid back off again.
Nights can be restless knowing water via condensation, yes often from the inside out, is draining into your lovely wooden boat. This has as to be dealt with or sleep is hard to come by in knowledge water will seep, and seep it does, swelling, blistering, and generally being a damn right nuisance. I own a mere 16 footer but friends revel in the sanded delights of wooden craft up to 84 feet in length. Just a snippet of the ongoing battle the wooden boat owner has in keeping his ship "ship-shape"
Taking the time to prep Shoal Waters for 2012, her 49th year cruising the Thames Estuary. A wooden boat very quickly becomes one of the family. Demanding care and attention throughout the year.
A little glimpse at the other side of those majestic sea miles around the estuary and one's ambling along the glorious creeks, also something to chew over regarding the joys of wooden boat ownership.
An apple picked from a tree immediately begins to fade and go off. Place a piece of wood outside and immediately it begins to perish. Nothing new, a billion pound coatings industry has spun from this fact. But whether you are Dulux, Johnstones, Blakes or International eventually the stuff cracks and peels. Even though we may know all this, still we cast our wooden craft to swinging salty buoys and leave them to the blister of long hot summers and cooler wet autumns. Knowing this who in their right mind would do such a thing with their lovingly cherished wooden boat.
Sunlight is good, we all love it, it warms us, invigorates and soothes us, makes us cheery. It dries timber too; expanding, shrinking, twisting. Generally movement that is not wanted on a sealed watertight hull you are going to put to sea in.
While the "woodster" is admiring the grain pattern on his coamings, awing and cooing, suddenly and abruptly he is interrupted by a blistered intrusion to the pure naturalness of the handiwork before him. The GRP built boat owner however could well be polishing and buffing, to finish the same morning with a light rub and oil of the gunwhales. Straight to the pub he goes to be seen sucking on chilled lagers while singing the praises of modern techno. I do envy this owner, I was him! Once... Meanwhile the woodiest is scraping, filling, flaring and sanding. Over many months, or at the least, weeks. His local has gone out of business...
Always the optimist - thankfully the moderate temperature and February sunshine has resulted in the little gaff cutter Shoal Waters gleaming from a fresh coat of paint. Her spars are shining in readiness for the coming months.
I find it hard to beat the warm qualities that natural wood gives you but like everything else there is as always a trade off. Just like the moment you put the varnish brush away to hammer the bent lid back on, only to spot another hairline crack on the boat somewhere you had previously not seen... Scrapers back out! sanding, poking, filling, drying off with the electric fan heater before prizing that bent lid back off again.
Nights can be restless knowing water via condensation, yes often from the inside out, is draining into your lovely wooden boat. This has as to be dealt with or sleep is hard to come by in knowledge water will seep, and seep it does, swelling, blistering, and generally being a damn right nuisance. I own a mere 16 footer but friends revel in the sanded delights of wooden craft up to 84 feet in length. Just a snippet of the ongoing battle the wooden boat owner has in keeping his ship "ship-shape"
Taking the time to prep Shoal Waters for 2012, her 49th year cruising the Thames Estuary. A wooden boat very quickly becomes one of the family. Demanding care and attention throughout the year.
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Heybridge Hulk Cycle
Well the hulk walk turned into a Goldhanger S C cruiser section's icycle bonanza of a day out. An ice-cycle atop the slippery seawall. The day started with a detour into Maldon, opposite the Hythe, to check out some boaty bits at The Little Ship Club's boat jumble. Here mingling alongside the enticing sausage sandwiches, small boat sailors jostled for table space where even more Goldhanger S C folk were found thumbing fettelishly through fabled old books and an assortment of useful sail ironmongery. Alas, silver crossed palms in an impressive display of hand wizardry only ever seen once before on the card players table. Layden, it was to Heybridge we went.
As dunlin worked the tidelines SBS members scour the frozen fringes of the Blackwater to survey the Charles Burley
The Thames barge hulk - a study
A true "mud bath" Lady Helen
Just about ready to move in?
Very hard to spot this hulk but once you catch the shape of her rudder her game of hide and seek in the marsh is up
This was the 3rd hulk we explored, a barge hulk I had been waiting information. I have asked a few people in the past but none knew of a hulk in this site or she had simply been long forgotten, so thanks to the Society for Sailing Barge Research who list her as being in all probability 'Betsy' . How lovely is that name - a name of personal significance to as I have always named my trucks Betsy. Such a hardworking reliable and endeering name. Her last recognisable days being spent as a house barge here.
As dunlin worked the tidelines SBS members scour the frozen fringes of the Blackwater to survey the Charles Burley
The Thames barge hulk - a study
A true "mud bath" Lady Helen
Just about ready to move in?
Very hard to spot this hulk but once you catch the shape of her rudder her game of hide and seek in the marsh is up
This was the 3rd hulk we explored, a barge hulk I had been waiting information. I have asked a few people in the past but none knew of a hulk in this site or she had simply been long forgotten, so thanks to the Society for Sailing Barge Research who list her as being in all probability 'Betsy' . How lovely is that name - a name of personal significance to as I have always named my trucks Betsy. Such a hardworking reliable and endeering name. Her last recognisable days being spent as a house barge here.
Saturday, 4 February 2012
Barge Hulk Walk
The sailormans final birth
Hidden deep in the mire of mud and marsh sits an historic old girl. Her rotting hulk lays burst at its seems with silt oozing from her once cargo laden hold. To get right up close on foot, actually in the depths of the creek, to smell these wet timbers gives one an overwhelming sense of carnage that took place in seconds rather than many decades it actually has taken to become in a way a scene that has similarities to old WW1 images of blown out trenches. To then hear the call of the waders is haunting indeed.
Attempting sailing into this tiny little creek needs a certain level of water, even for the shoalest of keels as in both Huffler, which I once owned and more recently Shoal Waters. Even so I managed to get in on both boats to take a glimpse at a former marvel of our tideways the Saltcote Belle. She was built by John Howard at Maldon to work from Saltcote Maltings and was launched in 1895. She was once described as being one of the prettiest barges Howard's built. She won many races back in the 20s and was on occasion chartered as a yacht for up to two weeks at a time to holidaying parties, when the hold was filled with camp beds and cooking stoves. Her skipper at the time relished this change in duties which must have been a refreshing rest-bite from the everyday toiling up to the bustling wharves of London.
Her steering gear is still in place and is one of the first things you will notice when entering this long forgotten place. The need for water to gain access means that most of her will be covered so to get these pictures one needs to dry out. Many other bits of ironwork and rigging can also be made out.
When I first made this post I had asked for information on the torpedo boat that is sitting next to Saltcote Belle; Many thanks to Colin Swindale for letting me know she was a D" type Fairmile called Catherine. Colin also tells me she came to Tollesbury to be a houseboat in the mid 1960's" before being laid to rest in the creek. He was also fortunate enough to have skippered Saltcote Belle on a few occasions when she was a yacht, and remembers her sailing gear was put into the Felix. How good is that!
What is also interesting in this picture is what to me looks very much like a flat bottomed wooden lighter. Seen top left in the image. These were used pre 1950s to store sprats and similar when unloading from a smack. They could be moved about on the hards or towed up the creeks to sit beside a farm wall. A floating cart when the tide came up and would sit nicely flat when it retreated.
Contact me if you would like to come along on one of our walks. Probably last a couple of hours and finish with a cuppa somewhere warm. Bring your sea boots. Some of us use cycles so bring yours if you wish.
Hidden deep in the mire of mud and marsh sits an historic old girl. Her rotting hulk lays burst at its seems with silt oozing from her once cargo laden hold. To get right up close on foot, actually in the depths of the creek, to smell these wet timbers gives one an overwhelming sense of carnage that took place in seconds rather than many decades it actually has taken to become in a way a scene that has similarities to old WW1 images of blown out trenches. To then hear the call of the waders is haunting indeed.
Attempting sailing into this tiny little creek needs a certain level of water, even for the shoalest of keels as in both Huffler, which I once owned and more recently Shoal Waters. Even so I managed to get in on both boats to take a glimpse at a former marvel of our tideways the Saltcote Belle. She was built by John Howard at Maldon to work from Saltcote Maltings and was launched in 1895. She was once described as being one of the prettiest barges Howard's built. She won many races back in the 20s and was on occasion chartered as a yacht for up to two weeks at a time to holidaying parties, when the hold was filled with camp beds and cooking stoves. Her skipper at the time relished this change in duties which must have been a refreshing rest-bite from the everyday toiling up to the bustling wharves of London.
Her steering gear is still in place and is one of the first things you will notice when entering this long forgotten place. The need for water to gain access means that most of her will be covered so to get these pictures one needs to dry out. Many other bits of ironwork and rigging can also be made out.
When I first made this post I had asked for information on the torpedo boat that is sitting next to Saltcote Belle; Many thanks to Colin Swindale for letting me know she was a D" type Fairmile called Catherine. Colin also tells me she came to Tollesbury to be a houseboat in the mid 1960's" before being laid to rest in the creek. He was also fortunate enough to have skippered Saltcote Belle on a few occasions when she was a yacht, and remembers her sailing gear was put into the Felix. How good is that!
What is also interesting in this picture is what to me looks very much like a flat bottomed wooden lighter. Seen top left in the image. These were used pre 1950s to store sprats and similar when unloading from a smack. They could be moved about on the hards or towed up the creeks to sit beside a farm wall. A floating cart when the tide came up and would sit nicely flat when it retreated.
Contact me if you would like to come along on one of our walks. Probably last a couple of hours and finish with a cuppa somewhere warm. Bring your sea boots. Some of us use cycles so bring yours if you wish.
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
Extreme Rill & Ditch Crawling - Douglas Went Punt Photo
Rill Punting Video Clip Added Below
A marvelous days punting, topped by a sighting of a hen harrier, literally 20 feet away. The owl like bird took to flight as we edged along the ditch - what a glorious sight. Many other ducks were resident, in large flocks not seen in these numbers for some time. All were observed from the punt.
The punt is two inches under 16 feet long which makes the tiny ditches great fun poling through the tighter extremes of the bends.
With their small cruisers tucked up on trailers, two Blackwater small boat sailors take to extreme 'rill' crawling in the duck punt. The River Blackwater is full of places like this, where you can get real close to nature. The punt has come into its own this winter, being well used to its advantages. Does not get any better than this for a winter ditch crawl.
Creeksailor takes his punting seriously. A vintage flavour to duck punting.
Practising waterman skills in the duck punt. We eventually reached the foot of Linnets little cottage garden. These photos are quite historic in themselves being the first time in many decades that a punt has been photographed on these marshes.
On the saltings. As part of our homage to Walter Linnet it was only right that we produced a Creeksailor 2012 take on the classic 1939 Douglas Went photograph.
My punt is named Marsh Duck and she is pretty typical in appearance of many Blackwater punts that were built at waterside locations such as Maldon, Heybridge, Tollesbury and Mersea, being an open punt.
I love animals and wildlife so use her for shooting photographs and ditch crawling but they would have been used back in another world, now long gone when the weekly food shop would have had to be pulled in off the marshes. Some punters or 'sea-gunners' preferred decking with coamings, which gives them a little more protection from shipping water.
However If you know what to look for they can still be found. They peep pointed ends from behind wooden sheds. They lay in saltings waiting for a tide, or covered by tarps on edge against walls. Their painted battleship greys give clues to a common trait, stealthness. A few of them crowd front gardens or lay abondoned-like in corners of compounds lashed to trollies until the alarm call of high water sees them off down the lanes to the hards of Blackwater creeks where spritsails are often set for small-boat cruisng adventure.
Other East Coast rivers produced punts and to compare a friend has a fully decked, almost kyak like punt 22 feet in length which is absolutely huge in comparison to Marsh Duck, that was built in the fifties by a well known punt builder on the River Stour.
Punts were also used prolifically on the Norfolk Broads where today they appear perhaps a slightly lower profile and fuller beam and are now sailed like dinghies. South of the Thames I would have thought Kent had its punters to, being as there is an abundance of saltmarsh around but to date I have not read anything about Punting in the county or of a particular punt. Although it may be because I have not looked for any either.
For the traditionalist and practical man who is useful with hand tools such as a carpenters saw or the smoothing plane and sharp chisels, punts are a very realistic and to an extent economical way to self produce a local boat with a history that dates back generations. I built Marsh Duck to the exact specification of her plans which were drawn up by retired Blackwater shipwright and boatbuilder John Milgate for his own use, a lovely man who's connection to the magical creeks of the Blackwater could well date as far back as those Roman oyster fishers who tended these creeks 2000 years ago, and who helped me over many frosty but sunbathed days, a couple of winters ago, with her construction. This was invaluable as to the layman the boat may look simple enough but in fact there are many little subtleties that make it what it is a Milgate/Wyatt type gun punt. For this type of punt plans may now be obtainable at duckpunt.org If you are thinking of going to the trouble of obtaining plans, to ignore them, well you would be ignoring the whole meaning for owning one of these punts, you may as well go and buy a canoe as this is a hell of a lot easier and less costly even. Build your punt to spec and you will have a sturdy craft to last you many years. One that not only can take an 8 or 9 foot gun (if that is your thing) but can be sailed, rowed, paddled and poled, all without falling to pieces.
Considering building one of these gun punts? Just a few things worth thinking about.
The basic material costs can be around £130.00 but choose marine grade ply other oak strips etc and this nearly doubles. Potentially £300.00.
Ok so you have made a start what comes next:
Paint/epoxy/ primer etc can well cost more than the basic building materials IE up to £180. Its your choice but having spent 60 odd hours lovingly building your boat, do you want to lash it over with cheap inferior paint that will peel, on or even before launch day. For not being a 'tightwad' a few pounds more and you may be able to get the right stuff?
Genuine duck punts are quite heavy - they are built to take a gun! you will need a trolley? They will roof rack and I manage this single handed but a trolley is needed for maneuvering any distance. Cost anything up to £150.00?
Oars £?
Rowlocks?
Other trim such as fore and aft brass keelband?
Punts can be sailed:
If you have resisted the urge of 'I know better syndrome' and not discarded the plans thus far. You just may fall here as now there may be an urge to slap ponced knackered sails up the mast? A viable quick fix that is sure to get you across the water, the Internet and Youtube within minutes. But hold on...
Remember all those hours of lovingly building and painting your punt - well done so far. You have gone a long way in maintaining the integrity of this type of punt. This decision depends on whether you intend doing much sailing in her or punting about under 'oar and tide'. Milgate type punts can use the oppie rig. Tatty old sails are perfectly alright but new sails will set you back another £200.00 and do your sailing gun punt the justice it so rightly deserves. Ok you may have to use tat and of course do not have to use an oppie rig. You may want to set a cotton lugsail as the punters of old would have done, to pull you up the creeks.
Leaving your punt outside in the compound? you may need a cover? professionally made cost up to £200?
As you can see to build a genuine punt that you can be proud of its lineage, its tradition, does involve a little more of an investment in time and money. But you can be sure it is worth it as now the fun begins!
I hope this answers some of your enquiries regarding this type of punt. I have a full archive of Marsh Duck's build photos taken at various stages while at John's boatshed, that point out some of the detailing particular to this punt. I will display here at some point in the near future but they should also be found on the duckpunt.org website.
If you would like to use any of these photos, or any from my large archive do drop me a line.
A marvelous days punting, topped by a sighting of a hen harrier, literally 20 feet away. The owl like bird took to flight as we edged along the ditch - what a glorious sight. Many other ducks were resident, in large flocks not seen in these numbers for some time. All were observed from the punt.
The punt is two inches under 16 feet long which makes the tiny ditches great fun poling through the tighter extremes of the bends.
With their small cruisers tucked up on trailers, two Blackwater small boat sailors take to extreme 'rill' crawling in the duck punt. The River Blackwater is full of places like this, where you can get real close to nature. The punt has come into its own this winter, being well used to its advantages. Does not get any better than this for a winter ditch crawl.
Creeksailor takes his punting seriously. A vintage flavour to duck punting.
Practising waterman skills in the duck punt. We eventually reached the foot of Linnets little cottage garden. These photos are quite historic in themselves being the first time in many decades that a punt has been photographed on these marshes.
On the saltings. As part of our homage to Walter Linnet it was only right that we produced a Creeksailor 2012 take on the classic 1939 Douglas Went photograph.
My punt is named Marsh Duck and she is pretty typical in appearance of many Blackwater punts that were built at waterside locations such as Maldon, Heybridge, Tollesbury and Mersea, being an open punt.
I love animals and wildlife so use her for shooting photographs and ditch crawling but they would have been used back in another world, now long gone when the weekly food shop would have had to be pulled in off the marshes. Some punters or 'sea-gunners' preferred decking with coamings, which gives them a little more protection from shipping water.
However If you know what to look for they can still be found. They peep pointed ends from behind wooden sheds. They lay in saltings waiting for a tide, or covered by tarps on edge against walls. Their painted battleship greys give clues to a common trait, stealthness. A few of them crowd front gardens or lay abondoned-like in corners of compounds lashed to trollies until the alarm call of high water sees them off down the lanes to the hards of Blackwater creeks where spritsails are often set for small-boat cruisng adventure.
Other East Coast rivers produced punts and to compare a friend has a fully decked, almost kyak like punt 22 feet in length which is absolutely huge in comparison to Marsh Duck, that was built in the fifties by a well known punt builder on the River Stour.
Punts were also used prolifically on the Norfolk Broads where today they appear perhaps a slightly lower profile and fuller beam and are now sailed like dinghies. South of the Thames I would have thought Kent had its punters to, being as there is an abundance of saltmarsh around but to date I have not read anything about Punting in the county or of a particular punt. Although it may be because I have not looked for any either.
For the traditionalist and practical man who is useful with hand tools such as a carpenters saw or the smoothing plane and sharp chisels, punts are a very realistic and to an extent economical way to self produce a local boat with a history that dates back generations. I built Marsh Duck to the exact specification of her plans which were drawn up by retired Blackwater shipwright and boatbuilder John Milgate for his own use, a lovely man who's connection to the magical creeks of the Blackwater could well date as far back as those Roman oyster fishers who tended these creeks 2000 years ago, and who helped me over many frosty but sunbathed days, a couple of winters ago, with her construction. This was invaluable as to the layman the boat may look simple enough but in fact there are many little subtleties that make it what it is a Milgate/Wyatt type gun punt. For this type of punt plans may now be obtainable at duckpunt.org If you are thinking of going to the trouble of obtaining plans, to ignore them, well you would be ignoring the whole meaning for owning one of these punts, you may as well go and buy a canoe as this is a hell of a lot easier and less costly even. Build your punt to spec and you will have a sturdy craft to last you many years. One that not only can take an 8 or 9 foot gun (if that is your thing) but can be sailed, rowed, paddled and poled, all without falling to pieces.
Considering building one of these gun punts? Just a few things worth thinking about.
The basic material costs can be around £130.00 but choose marine grade ply other oak strips etc and this nearly doubles. Potentially £300.00.
Ok so you have made a start what comes next:
Paint/epoxy/ primer etc can well cost more than the basic building materials IE up to £180. Its your choice but having spent 60 odd hours lovingly building your boat, do you want to lash it over with cheap inferior paint that will peel, on or even before launch day. For not being a 'tightwad' a few pounds more and you may be able to get the right stuff?
Genuine duck punts are quite heavy - they are built to take a gun! you will need a trolley? They will roof rack and I manage this single handed but a trolley is needed for maneuvering any distance. Cost anything up to £150.00?
Oars £?
Rowlocks?
Other trim such as fore and aft brass keelband?
Punts can be sailed:
If you have resisted the urge of 'I know better syndrome' and not discarded the plans thus far. You just may fall here as now there may be an urge to slap ponced knackered sails up the mast? A viable quick fix that is sure to get you across the water, the Internet and Youtube within minutes. But hold on...
Remember all those hours of lovingly building and painting your punt - well done so far. You have gone a long way in maintaining the integrity of this type of punt. This decision depends on whether you intend doing much sailing in her or punting about under 'oar and tide'. Milgate type punts can use the oppie rig. Tatty old sails are perfectly alright but new sails will set you back another £200.00 and do your sailing gun punt the justice it so rightly deserves. Ok you may have to use tat and of course do not have to use an oppie rig. You may want to set a cotton lugsail as the punters of old would have done, to pull you up the creeks.
Leaving your punt outside in the compound? you may need a cover? professionally made cost up to £200?
As you can see to build a genuine punt that you can be proud of its lineage, its tradition, does involve a little more of an investment in time and money. But you can be sure it is worth it as now the fun begins!
I hope this answers some of your enquiries regarding this type of punt. I have a full archive of Marsh Duck's build photos taken at various stages while at John's boatshed, that point out some of the detailing particular to this punt. I will display here at some point in the near future but they should also be found on the duckpunt.org website.
If you would like to use any of these photos, or any from my large archive do drop me a line.
Friday, 20 January 2012
Small Boat Sailors Boat Stickers
The Small Boat Sailors boat stickers are now available. These exclusive boat stickers are 75mm in diameter, vinyl and are a colourful, light hearted way to show your support and membership of the group. The stickers perpetuate the memory of A C Stock (as does the group) and are a symbol of the spirit of fun and adventure to be had cruising in small boats. They have also been seen and given the nod of approval by the man himself Charles Stock.
This specially commissioned design is available in limited numbers and for this season only.
Stickers are available from me in person for £1.5o
By Mail:
Cost: 1 sticker £2.50 including postage. 2 stickers £4.50 including postage
All UK only.
Payment to be made via PayPal to smallerboat at hotmail dot co dot uk
Give your full address and post code,
boat class and length overall, boat name and your cruising area.
These are a must have for all creek crawlers, ditch sliders, shoal water or deep sea specialists so come on all you small boaters, lets see these stickers on display along every strip of waterway in the land.
For a bit of fun a signed copy of 'Ceeksailor Ready About On The River Blackwater' is up for grabs later in the year, to the person who sends me the most interesting picture that includes one of our stickers. It does not have to be on the boat either as these stickers can be placed on mooring buoys, boatsheds, Scooters, cars, vans, lorrys, aeroplanes..., doors, windows you name it? etc.
Best wishes
Tony, SBS
Friday, 13 January 2012
Alone on a Windswept Sea-Marsh
A poem from the Essex marshes by Tony Smith
Marram grass laid horizontal, ironed flat by relentless winds and browned by days of hot suns. Thick spume skims across creeks that interweave softened ground, searching, creeping and inevitably finding ways into vast inland spaces, quiet places, long abandoned but home to the yellow horned poppy that sit hidden but from the glance of a casual coast wanderer. Once again a sea, arriving from far, far away, trickles its brown salt waters to become smooth shining silver, dazzling one’s eyes before slicing through fine cuts and filling small rills, the numbers of which too numerous to count and from where brent geese sit gathered, huddled tight. They watch its swishing, hurrying and winding, gaining pace to glint as it bathes sea purselane, glasswort and seablite passed on its journey before finally it topples the rooted green blades that decorate the shadows afoot of that mighty barrier of the sea-marsh, the seawall.
Bleached driftwood sits limp, cast high to muddy sides, still just out of reach. Beyond the seawall, farmland, spread by yeoman craftsmanship, billiard board flat to span unending misty acres until interrupted, a solemnness broken by a brick shell, defiant but baring scars from a generation of unrelenting storms, gone unseen in this remoteness, its rusting roof panels bizarrely torn, awkwardly pointing upwards and seaward.
Veins now beat with the excitement of nature, of life; nostrils tingle to smells of sea fauna and crustation, of tended earth. Suddenly salt waters ebb, flowing, swooshing. Brimming creeks ripple evocatively to the power of wind and the suck and pull. One now hears the roar of fleeing salt spray spilt back whence it came, crashing, escaping, carving its exit. Voles scurry into holes, Geese squawk and cronk, shuffle and shift as the hen harrier hides among hedgerows that line the ditches, now reddened by fading sun light that fights, battling with dense stark clouds and the richness of a deep blue sky streaked white haphazardly to the round ends of earth.
Salt now burns dry, scalded and crystallised. White painted mud cracks and splits to the last of the tide. Godwits bend and peck, arrow grass wavers while cord grass stands bolt upright. Across the seawall stonechats move from bushes and just then the tide has gone. Seaweed remains strewn and tangled with shells - the wild birds feast on cloying mud. A strike of a match and the oil lamp is lit, hauled gently forward and cleated. The warm flame flickers as one climbs into the cabin to zip up into the snug and fluff of the sleeping bag to lay gaze fixed at its glowing, alone on a windswept sea-marsh.
Sunday, 1 January 2012
Shoal Water Sailing
Much of Englands East Coast, in particular a stretch from North Foreland, that piece of Kentish land that points towards the Dover Straits and marks the southernmost limit of the Thames Estuary, and northwards to round the tip of East Anglia, unlike our islands deeper blue water southern shores are in the main a murky soup of mud, sand, gravel and shipwrecks. To seaward, amongst this brown broth, huge sandbanks appear on falling tides creating a mirage of illusions on warm dreamy days. But often localised clear patches of water can be found where the water has an aquarium like quality offering the viewer scenes of the seabed that are the norm to our southern county neighbours. Set in the middle of this coast is the county of Essex which just happens to have one of the longest coastlines in Britain at roughly 300 miles long. Not a continuous straight line of coast but a fascinating maze of inland winding rivers that twist, sometimes busily with shipping , but in the main they are quiet like the hundreds of smaller creeks that branch off peacefully to become calm backwaters that are havens to estuary dwelling inter tidal wildlife. Fond memories of childhood play here are of paddling a dinghy or fishing for eels along the borrowdykes below the seawalls, or jumping the ditches that interweave the miles and miles of saltmarsh and on getting a wellyful meant blistered feet during the walk home. Climbing the wrecks and getting splinters, or crabbing off the sluice gates beside the creek with stringy bits of bacon set on rusty hooks. Running as fast as you can around the foot of a Martello tower to see who gets to the doorway first. Counting the squares of rag walling before falling into the sea to be nipped by crabs or stung by jelly fish. Happy days! 47 years on and having travelled the world I am still playing in the same places although now in the comfort of a small wooden sailing cruiser. Some things may never change though as I still get the odd welly blister.
Today the hundreds if not thousands of us boaters that are based on this shallow coast enjoy the myriad of tiny creeks. This is the realm of the 3 ft depth waterman, perhaps the ultimate domain of the self-respecting ditch-sliders, shallow sailors, thin water sailors and ditch-crawlers. Some call it mud hopping, the Americans like to call it gunkholing, whatever term you wish to describe it we are all the ubiquitous creek-sailor. We amble along them on the whims of the wind wondering at the whys and hows of a shoreline that can blend so beautifully into the surrounding marsh meadows and farmlands. Seeking adventure where to some they have become a sanctuary where faith is restored in an often twisted world. A common sight is to see a skipper of a small cruiser stabbing ferociously into the depths a garden cane in search of more water, the stick is waved almost as a magic wand to produce even murkier, pasty swirl, to take him even further into his idyll.
This Shoal Water sailor carries an armoury of hand tools to help him in his never ending quest for that thinner piece of water, ‘thirsty water’ near dry sailing, giving entrance to the thickest of muds or the most sheltered of sandbanks where no other boat has ventured for decades, if at all! The auxiliary, if of any help thus far, has been long clipped in its up position and forgotten. If one has well fitted bulk head compasses they are now next to useless, but a snatched bearing taken quickly by hand is often fruitful.
No 12volt cabling sending haywire signals is of any use to this skipper, having tried an audible sounder I found I only used the cane so choose to cruise without an echo sounder for spending 90% of cruising time in ankle deep water 3ft or less it is of no use. In deeper than 'stick water' sink the lead, for now, here, the skipper is in all seriousness, at the very pinnacle of his chosen art, hands on, close quarter working, with bean stick sounding cane bought in bulk from garden centres as he can get through many in a season, thrashing to his favoured side, not clumsily but well-practised setting the stick at precise moments to read accurately, either from the knuckle in the cane or from the white painted markers set at foot intervals, he alternates this with powerful long strokes with the short oar in full command of his little vessel. Every now and then a short pause is made as the mud below grips his keel. Mainsails are now lowered or taken in with sail ties clove hitched, the jib can come in a little to, or stay set just in case. Suddenly a comprehensive array of tea making facility’s take over the main focus for a short while, and soon enough the little boat wobbles back to life. If not already worn water-boots or thigh waders are now donned in case there is an urgent need to hop overboard to free the boat. Frantic Jabbing movements are made with the 15ft long quant pole either from the side decks or cockpit often now to no avail as things overwhelmingly have become 'real dirty', and only those of a certain pallet, and they are few, endeavour on for they sense the rewards for thier effort is near. The rudder is now tied in her up position, the centre board is fully up cleated tight. A stiff jerking pull from side to side with the tiller in what remains of the ‘water due’ and the rudder throws thick ooze sloshing along the raised bank.
The boat now almost lying in resemblance to a stranded sea bass or mullet with dorsal fin rudder now hanging hopeless and next to useless. But all is not lost as this was your intention, you have achieved you aim, you are at the limit, the extremes of your salt water habit and surrounded by the glory of man and woman that is sea-country. Immediately the greeting call of the reed warbler rings out and shank scurry along wading the muds. The ever ready skipper cleans the tools that have become extension to the creek sailor’s arms as scents of mud aromas drift across creek and marshland. Can you ever leave this seaweed filled saltmarsh fringed murky coast? My answer is no. Elsewhere seas are bluer with whiter waves and warmer waters but it can never equal this brown shoal studded, mud lined creek haven, where one can run aground at will and put the kettle on for a brew. Good creek-sailing to all in the new year.
Part of my collection of close quarter creek-sailing tools which include a variety of paddles and oars. Note the boat hook also marked up to double as a sounder. Over the years I have got through many sticks through them falling overboard when healing in rough weather or through the heat of the moment carelessness. Often time is spent searching over covered ground in search of a favoured stick that has served so well. Its always a feeling of elation, or scoring a goal, if you do happen to find them again. I have played about with sticking pieces of lead or taping a thick piece of cork to them to stop them sinking through the really soft stuff. I have also tried with bits of line as a handle to hook onto a part of the boat. but its not necessary.
With an unbroken bond to the sticky Essex muds I am truly fortunate to have been taught pea stick sounding skills first hand by the grand master of the shoal water art Charlie Stock, who's last sounding cane used I now have proudly in my possession
Classic East Coast mud. This patch of mud is still as pure as nature intended. Learn to love this stuff. The sounding cane gives reliable readings when prodding and the technique is to sense the bottom with 'feel'. Surprisingly enough a thin bean stick stops an inch or so in when under its own inertia. Trying to weigh up its texture and depth before attempting to cross it on foot is a good practice. Wading through deep mud is never an exact science, but sweet and 'smelly' in its most endearing sense it is. I guessed correctly (this time) that this would go at least knee deep and be a patch of welly stealer, a Dick Turpin of the low tide sea-ways. Here is a substrate where maintaining movement and agility is everything, a pair of wooden splatchers would slow down the sink effect considerably to. Then again play safe and find a harder patch nearby.
A minimal draft of 12 inches allows one to dwell in the habitats only accessible by waders. These turnstone are not in the least concerned by our presence. Even in the punt I am not able to get this close. I put it down to the bowsprit and rig, as I could get just as close in Huffler. Maybe to these lovely little creatures the boat must have a motherbird like look about it. Its probably more a case of they are so used to seeing Shoal Waters about the margins here in a foot of water that the boat no longer poses a threat to them.
Today the hundreds if not thousands of us boaters that are based on this shallow coast enjoy the myriad of tiny creeks. This is the realm of the 3 ft depth waterman, perhaps the ultimate domain of the self-respecting ditch-sliders, shallow sailors, thin water sailors and ditch-crawlers. Some call it mud hopping, the Americans like to call it gunkholing, whatever term you wish to describe it we are all the ubiquitous creek-sailor. We amble along them on the whims of the wind wondering at the whys and hows of a shoreline that can blend so beautifully into the surrounding marsh meadows and farmlands. Seeking adventure where to some they have become a sanctuary where faith is restored in an often twisted world. A common sight is to see a skipper of a small cruiser stabbing ferociously into the depths a garden cane in search of more water, the stick is waved almost as a magic wand to produce even murkier, pasty swirl, to take him even further into his idyll.
This Shoal Water sailor carries an armoury of hand tools to help him in his never ending quest for that thinner piece of water, ‘thirsty water’ near dry sailing, giving entrance to the thickest of muds or the most sheltered of sandbanks where no other boat has ventured for decades, if at all! The auxiliary, if of any help thus far, has been long clipped in its up position and forgotten. If one has well fitted bulk head compasses they are now next to useless, but a snatched bearing taken quickly by hand is often fruitful.
No 12volt cabling sending haywire signals is of any use to this skipper, having tried an audible sounder I found I only used the cane so choose to cruise without an echo sounder for spending 90% of cruising time in ankle deep water 3ft or less it is of no use. In deeper than 'stick water' sink the lead, for now, here, the skipper is in all seriousness, at the very pinnacle of his chosen art, hands on, close quarter working, with bean stick sounding cane bought in bulk from garden centres as he can get through many in a season, thrashing to his favoured side, not clumsily but well-practised setting the stick at precise moments to read accurately, either from the knuckle in the cane or from the white painted markers set at foot intervals, he alternates this with powerful long strokes with the short oar in full command of his little vessel. Every now and then a short pause is made as the mud below grips his keel. Mainsails are now lowered or taken in with sail ties clove hitched, the jib can come in a little to, or stay set just in case. Suddenly a comprehensive array of tea making facility’s take over the main focus for a short while, and soon enough the little boat wobbles back to life. If not already worn water-boots or thigh waders are now donned in case there is an urgent need to hop overboard to free the boat. Frantic Jabbing movements are made with the 15ft long quant pole either from the side decks or cockpit often now to no avail as things overwhelmingly have become 'real dirty', and only those of a certain pallet, and they are few, endeavour on for they sense the rewards for thier effort is near. The rudder is now tied in her up position, the centre board is fully up cleated tight. A stiff jerking pull from side to side with the tiller in what remains of the ‘water due’ and the rudder throws thick ooze sloshing along the raised bank.
The boat now almost lying in resemblance to a stranded sea bass or mullet with dorsal fin rudder now hanging hopeless and next to useless. But all is not lost as this was your intention, you have achieved you aim, you are at the limit, the extremes of your salt water habit and surrounded by the glory of man and woman that is sea-country. Immediately the greeting call of the reed warbler rings out and shank scurry along wading the muds. The ever ready skipper cleans the tools that have become extension to the creek sailor’s arms as scents of mud aromas drift across creek and marshland. Can you ever leave this seaweed filled saltmarsh fringed murky coast? My answer is no. Elsewhere seas are bluer with whiter waves and warmer waters but it can never equal this brown shoal studded, mud lined creek haven, where one can run aground at will and put the kettle on for a brew. Good creek-sailing to all in the new year.
Part of my collection of close quarter creek-sailing tools which include a variety of paddles and oars. Note the boat hook also marked up to double as a sounder. Over the years I have got through many sticks through them falling overboard when healing in rough weather or through the heat of the moment carelessness. Often time is spent searching over covered ground in search of a favoured stick that has served so well. Its always a feeling of elation, or scoring a goal, if you do happen to find them again. I have played about with sticking pieces of lead or taping a thick piece of cork to them to stop them sinking through the really soft stuff. I have also tried with bits of line as a handle to hook onto a part of the boat. but its not necessary.
With an unbroken bond to the sticky Essex muds I am truly fortunate to have been taught pea stick sounding skills first hand by the grand master of the shoal water art Charlie Stock, who's last sounding cane used I now have proudly in my possession
Classic East Coast mud. This patch of mud is still as pure as nature intended. Learn to love this stuff. The sounding cane gives reliable readings when prodding and the technique is to sense the bottom with 'feel'. Surprisingly enough a thin bean stick stops an inch or so in when under its own inertia. Trying to weigh up its texture and depth before attempting to cross it on foot is a good practice. Wading through deep mud is never an exact science, but sweet and 'smelly' in its most endearing sense it is. I guessed correctly (this time) that this would go at least knee deep and be a patch of welly stealer, a Dick Turpin of the low tide sea-ways. Here is a substrate where maintaining movement and agility is everything, a pair of wooden splatchers would slow down the sink effect considerably to. Then again play safe and find a harder patch nearby.
A minimal draft of 12 inches allows one to dwell in the habitats only accessible by waders. These turnstone are not in the least concerned by our presence. Even in the punt I am not able to get this close. I put it down to the bowsprit and rig, as I could get just as close in Huffler. Maybe to these lovely little creatures the boat must have a motherbird like look about it. Its probably more a case of they are so used to seeing Shoal Waters about the margins here in a foot of water that the boat no longer poses a threat to them.
Wednesday, 28 December 2011
Health N Safety
I have some very interesting pictures I wanted to put up but I couldn't resist just a little rambling spun-yarn.
It seems that even along the quiet backwaters of the Blackwater, in time forgotten creeks, where seawalls are seldom trodden but by the true ditch-crawlers and marshmen, deep admirers of this wild place, a place lost in time but held as sacred. Ghastly iron works are appearing overnight as if by some kind of crop circle like sorcery.
I first noticed the new additional furnishing to the creek last year, over on the east seawall. I remember a few of us spoke about it in bewilderment at the time but it appears they are being placed at every outfall/sluice along the river and in some instances on both sides of the seawall. I cant fathom why but it seems that an operative will now be able to traverse the wall without the indignity of a crease in the ironed pant-line.
All joking aside I can only view this as Health 'N' Safety gone bonkers. Trying to convince otherwise - maybe they are a good landing point; a modern day dock for the workaday leisure cruiser who likes to load hay and the like. And as we have a rich history of smuggling inside the river maybe they have been put there to aid the modern day smuggler, no longer content to roll up the odd barrel of rum but who now wants quick exit for boat loads of people to scramble up even? And as for that staple kit of the creek-crawler, a pair of sea-boots, the unthinkable..., now no longer needed? Now this is getting serious...
At the end of the day we shall get on with our boating, continue to cruise the creeks sample the delights of the ditches and ignore as much as possible the glaring statues of modern bureaucracy, but you cant help but wonder apathetically are these structures really necessary in such a fragile, naturally beautiful environment?
Be warned these monstrous structures are appearing overnight in all areas of the Blackwater and quite possibly in a creek near you soon. This most recent has been placed roughly 10 yards from a slipway which is to the right in this image and roughly 15 yards from a seawall stairway which is to the left in this image
This little area is so special not only to me but to many others who know of it. Surely there must be another more needing cause to spend all the hard gathered tax payers cash on. I cant help a little sarcasm as I have been hopping down this little wall for years but now an operative will need to undo the chain and pass through the posts holding tightly to one side. But what if the operative slips and hurts themselves on the hard metal, metal which now has to be maintained and is now open to vandalism...
It seems that even along the quiet backwaters of the Blackwater, in time forgotten creeks, where seawalls are seldom trodden but by the true ditch-crawlers and marshmen, deep admirers of this wild place, a place lost in time but held as sacred. Ghastly iron works are appearing overnight as if by some kind of crop circle like sorcery.
I first noticed the new additional furnishing to the creek last year, over on the east seawall. I remember a few of us spoke about it in bewilderment at the time but it appears they are being placed at every outfall/sluice along the river and in some instances on both sides of the seawall. I cant fathom why but it seems that an operative will now be able to traverse the wall without the indignity of a crease in the ironed pant-line.
All joking aside I can only view this as Health 'N' Safety gone bonkers. Trying to convince otherwise - maybe they are a good landing point; a modern day dock for the workaday leisure cruiser who likes to load hay and the like. And as we have a rich history of smuggling inside the river maybe they have been put there to aid the modern day smuggler, no longer content to roll up the odd barrel of rum but who now wants quick exit for boat loads of people to scramble up even? And as for that staple kit of the creek-crawler, a pair of sea-boots, the unthinkable..., now no longer needed? Now this is getting serious...
At the end of the day we shall get on with our boating, continue to cruise the creeks sample the delights of the ditches and ignore as much as possible the glaring statues of modern bureaucracy, but you cant help but wonder apathetically are these structures really necessary in such a fragile, naturally beautiful environment?
Be warned these monstrous structures are appearing overnight in all areas of the Blackwater and quite possibly in a creek near you soon. This most recent has been placed roughly 10 yards from a slipway which is to the right in this image and roughly 15 yards from a seawall stairway which is to the left in this image
This little area is so special not only to me but to many others who know of it. Surely there must be another more needing cause to spend all the hard gathered tax payers cash on. I cant help a little sarcasm as I have been hopping down this little wall for years but now an operative will need to undo the chain and pass through the posts holding tightly to one side. But what if the operative slips and hurts themselves on the hard metal, metal which now has to be maintained and is now open to vandalism...
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