cruisingcruising
There is plenty to do on a barge. Richard
has thought long and hard about the
usefulness of sailing. Much British sail
training, he reckons, is splendidly
well-intentioned but takes place on boats
with so little to do that trainees spend most
of a voyage waiting for their turn to steer.
The barge is different. Working from stern
to bow, there is the mizzen, sheeted to the
rudder; the mainsheet on its horse; the
vangs (pronounced ‘wangs’) that
determine the position of the sprit; the
running backstays for mainmast and (more
importantly) the tall, slender topmast that
supports the enormous topsail; the
leeboards, controlled by huge chains
running to the crab winches on either side
of the wheel which have warping drums for
vangs and mainsheet in a breeze; the
mast, with its dizzying festoons of brail tails
and topsail sheets and God knows what
other miscellanea; the foresail, whose
sheet, like the mainsheet, runs on a horse
athwart the deck; and the anchor windlass,
with its vast chain and a horizontal timber
drum as fat as a well-grown oak trunk.
Each of these elements demands
someone’s full attention, and many of them
bear loads measured in tons.
Quiet confidence
The teenagers stand by, quietly confident.
Hilary reminds one of them that it might not
be a great idea to be standing forward of the
foresail sheet horse when the sail bangs
over. Her voice is mild and sensible. There
is no shouting in Sea-Change, and very
few orders. Richard and Hilary make quiet
suggestions, and the crew act on them,
and learn sailing and life skills by example.
The Blackwater is opening out. The tide is
ebbing hard, and down we go, keeping the
big reds to starboard. Ahead, the North
Sea trawler that found a sort of fame as
Radio Caroline lies anchored off the twin
tombs of the Sizewell nuclear power
station. Combined with the line of beach
huts on Mersea Island, this is not an
obviously romantic panorama, but
Reminder makes it so, a great white beast
from a more spacious age. Down we run.
There is a gybe. Everyone takes his or her
position, no fuss. The mainsail and topsail
are both up, and the barge is surging down
the wind. Up with the mizzen topping lift,
because nobody needs a mizzen before
the wind. Stand by the running backstays.
Over goes the helm. Control the sprit with
the vang, a turn or two on the crab winchwarping drum. And away we go again.
On almost all barges, cargo space is
now dedicated to the accommodation of
charterers. This is not something that
pleases Richard. Sea-Change is in the
process of building its own barge, Blue
Mermaid, a replica of a Blue Mermaid
launched 85 years ago at Mistley and
blown up by a mine in the Second World
War. The hull was launched last year at
Toms of Polruan and was towed to
Maldon, where she is currently fitting out
under the hands of Jim Dines and his
team at the Downs Road Boatyard.
She is an enormous vessel even by the
standards of barges. The main difference
between her and her ancestor is that she is
welded from plates of laser-cut steel rather
than riveted. She is waiting for her rig – theCharter vessel Reminder- a fine example of a
Thames barge
Sam Llewellyn
earns his keep by
scurrying aloftBarges galore at Hythe Quay in Maldon