Yachting Monthly’s founder Herbert Reiach wrote in the first issue in 1906:
‘We shall be glad to receive the best logs and cruising
stories offered to us from all parts of the world’
110 years later, nothing’s changed! We’re still publishing your cruising storiesPLEASE SEND
YOUR STORIES TO
[email protected]Yachting Monthly’s founder Herbert Reiach wrote in the first issue in 1906:
‘We shall be glad to receive the best logs and cruising
stories offered to us from all parts of the world’
110 years later, nothing’s changed! We’re still publishing your cruising storiesReaders’
CruisingStories68 http://www.yachtingmonthly.com APRIL 2016Sailing to Alresford Mill
A contemplative tour of the
Brightlingsea creeks and
channels with Nick ArdleyWe’d sailed from Lawling Creek
off the River Blackwater the
previous day with a thrusting
westerly wind behind us, after a
bottom scrub on Mundon Stone.
We reached into the Colne and
beat up Pyefl eet, tucked in behind
Mersea Island, and anchored close
to Pewit Island.
The Mate wanted a potter
up on the tide to Rowhedge, a
place she’d not visited awhile.
So, discussing our plans, I said,
‘Let’s sail up to Colchester Hythe,
then drop down and anchor near
Alresford Creek after.’
‘Why?’
‘Tide’s ok for Alresford Creek...’
My Mate smiled knowingly
and asked: ‘Then Brightlingsea?’
I nodded: it would be our
provisioning stop before heading
southwards to the Swale. Besides,
we love ‘Brittlesea’ too.
I’d been into Alresford Creek
two years before, whilst sailing
alone, intending to reach
Thorrington Mill, which operated
until around 1926. Creeping in
later than I should have on a neap
tide, I ended up sliding the boat’skeel onto a mud bank. Fortunately
it was still before high water, so
upon regaining my freedom, I
made my way out. I was due to
pick the Mate up on the far side of
the estuary at Bradwell the next
day. Being stuck deep behind
Brightlingsea wasn’t an option.
After breakfast the next
morning we ran out of Pyefl eet
with a lighter westerly wafting
us along. The tide was fl ooding
and we crept upriver in a blissful
haze. Passing through the tidal
barrier at Wivenhoe I stowed
the sails. The ferry pontoon at
Rowhedge was clear so we turnedand berthed. We enjoyed a walk
around the quiet streets shopping
for supper before adjourning to
The Anchor for a light lunch.Up the ‘Roman river’
We sailed off the pontoon with
the tide still fl ooding and a warm
westerly wafting off the land.
It’s surreal sailing to Colchester:
to the west, fi elds sit below you,
while the Clacton rail line runs
close beside you to the east. Then
you reach the lower wharves – a
sad sight – lined with empty,
disused warehouses. The port was
deregulated by the ‘city fathers’and, some years ago, trade
ceased. Passing by the assortment
of liveaboards and the nearby
visitors’ pontoon, I said: ‘We’ll turn
shortly and sail back.’
Clearing the ‘Roman river’,
which runs up to Fingringhoe Mill,
I saw the barrier close. Fortunately
it was just a brief test. Later, we
anchored for the night a little
above the entrance to Alresford
Creek, clear of the main channel
because Prior’s gravel barges pass
regularly to their ballast quay on
the Fingringhoe shore.
Waking after a quiet night
we sat in the cockpit, which
was deliciously full of sunshine,
enjoying our morning coffee and
serenaded by the chatter of sea
and land birds. ‘What time do we
go?’ the Mate eventually asked.
‘Oh, about 1030’ I said, looking at
the edge of the tide creeping in.
We breakfasted in a lazy
fashion. I left the Mate to clear
away and pottered off in the
tender. Returning after an hour
I found her ensconced upon
cushions, head buried in a book.
Looking up she asked, ‘Coffee
before leaving?’ I nodded.
The wind was still generally
westerly, soft and light. I heaved
the anchor, hauled the jib, leavingPHOTOS: COURTESY OF NICK ARDLEYWhimbrel on Mundon Stone
with a clean bottom after a
good scrub-offApproaching Colchester Hythe, the Mate prepares to hoist the mainsail An old smack yacht leans defi es the ‘No Mooring’ signs on the pier