Widsith is a fourteen foot cabin boat — she has been called the smallest three-ton cruiser ever. Her headquarters are at East Greenwich, where the Greenwich Yacht Club is situated between an iron works, a power station, and a barge mooring. The water there is oily black, and it is sometimes difficult to find room to sail amongst bigger boats which think their pressing business gives them prior claim. Thus at Whitsun we decided to take a holiday from dockland sailing, and to find cleaner waters out in the estuary.

Into Widsith’s five-foot-six cabin we packed sleeping bags, boxes of stores, two two-gallon water tanks and a can of paraffin for the Primus. There was a slight mishap with a very leaky dinghy while the loading was in progress which lost us a pair of rowlocks and sent Margaret home very wet. She was not daunted, however, and was there on Friday morning to catch the first of the ebb. As a good omen for the voyage we found a dinghy paddle lost in a shipwreck, washed up on the shore by the club house.

There was a westerly wind which veered during the day but which let us keep our course without tacking. We passed by the moored boats at Woolwich, down Gallions Reach, and into the wider channel of which the banks are dykes instead of wharves. There was plenty of wind and not too much traffic, so that we made good progress past Barking Power Station, Dagenham Dock, and the Ford motor works, and passed Erith Yacht Club at mid-morning. From there the river took us past Purfleet, Greenhithe and Thurrock, and down to Tilbury and Gravesend. The wind was gusty off Tilbury, and Margaret did not find it too easy to make hot soup for lunch. Beyond Tilbury, in lower Hope Reach, the river widened out and began to look more like an estuary. There was a good deal of shipping in this reach so that a nasty jobble on the water slowed our progress. One coaster going by made a wave several feet high which set our decks awash as we burst through its crest.

We then had to decide how far to go that day. The tide was slackening, and although we would sail against the incoming flood if the wind held, it might make our progress very slow. We decided to go into Hole Haven for the night, even though we would reach it early in the afternoon. We passed the oil refineries on the north bank at Shell Haven, and turned up the narrow channel to beat into the mouth of the Hole Haven Creek. There we dropped anchor astern of some bawley boats on the edge of the channel.

We had time to prepare a good supper and went to bed early. This was Margaret’s first experience of Widsith’s sleeping arrangements. The cabin is a nice fit for her owner, but Margaret is two inches taller — she squeezed in with some difficulty. All the stores have to be stowed in with some difficulty into the cockpit at night, under the canvas sail-cover. The tide was full at bedtime, and I let out a few extra yards of anchorage, remembering that this would mean getting up at 2.00 a.m. to shorten the warp again. At 2.00 a.m. of course, I was fast asleep, and was wakened by the shouts of some passing fishermen who saw us lying alongside one of the [??] which was still aground while we were afloat. No damage was done, and it was not a long job to take in a few yards of warp.

On Saturday morning we had eggs and coffee for breakfast, and filled the thermos flask with soup to be ready for an easy midday meal. We looked out the Thames Estuary chart for the channel into the Medway, and set off about 9.00 a.m. with a fair wind and tide. The shipping in the estuary passes close to the north shore so that we should cross the line of traffic soon after setting out from Hole Haven. This meant running down-river off course while two ships passed us, but after which we had the water ahead to ourselves. We made the East Blythe buoy, and were then in the Swatchway sailing between the Hole Sound and the edge of Grain Spit. As we approached the entrance of the Medway we saw other sails, from Leight perhaps, coming into the channel from the north. When the position of the Martello Tower on Grain Spit showed us that we were clear of the banks we gybed to run up river. The tide was now against us, but we made good progress past Sheerness and Grain and up the winding main channel, until we came to the naval station at Gillingham and saw the training ship Arethura ahead of us at Upnor.

Here we were hailed and brought alongside Bryn Weightman’s barge Nellie. We were entertained aboard — a cabin which we could stand in upright was a change! Bryn offered to tow us to Woolwich on Monday, as he had to take the barge up to the Albert Docks. This gave us a free day for exploring the Medway, and we gratefully accepted. We visited the Medway Yacht Club, and that night had a festive supper in Nellie’s cabin.

Next morning we sailed in light airs up to the Medway Yacht Club, and Margaret took some colour photographs. We met Michael and Chrys Parker, who had just arrived from London. After a picnic lunch ashore we set off in company with their boat Fiona, to sail to Queenborough.

Already Upnor with its wooded banks, its attractive village, and the variety of craft under sail in Cockhorn Reach, from dinghies to barges, made us want to find Widsith a permanent mooring there. Our day exploring the Medway channels on the way to Queenborough confirmed our opinion that it is an ideal base for dinghy cruising. Half-Acre Creek brought us by a short cut back into the Medway, and then up Stangate Creek. We anchored there for tea, and in the evening went on to Queenborough. The wind was so light by this time that we had to row — hadn’t I heard Margaret say she likes rowing? It was dusk when we reached Queenborough, where Nellie was already anchored. After a visit to the pub we went aboard Nellie for supper, and spent the night astern of her ready to be towed home next day.

On Whit Monday we had another view of London River from the wheelhouse of the barge, with Widsith making a bow-wave as she followed at the end of her anchor line. She left us at the head of Gallions Reach, as she went in to the Albert Docks to unload a cargo of fertilizer, and we tacked back to the moorings at Greenwich. The first trip of the year was over — and in spite of discomforts, Margaret still wants to come next time.