FAVERSHAM CREEK by Geof Finnis

Paglesham is a picturesque Essex village on the River Roach. However on Friday evening August 18th my holiday had just begun. I found myself in the Plough & Sail to have a drink and also to phone the War Department at Havengore to ask if I could sail my boat through early on Saturday morning. In replying the bridge superintendent asked for a few details, name of boat and colour and where bound. Having settled that business, my thoughts turned to Felicia. The ebbing tide was beginning to leave the mud flats dry so I had to hurry to stow everything on board as quickly as possible. As I weighed anchor I soon realized that there was a fresh S.W. wind blowing. The chill of the evening air was beginning to make itself known as I sailed Felicia down Havengore creek towards the Narrow Gut Creek, this I thought would be a sheltered spot for the night and it was too.

Saturday morning dawned with a grey look about the clouds, the time was 5.30 a.m. I quickly made a pot of tea on the primus stove. High water was 6 a.m. so I decided to sail for the bridge. After sailing around for a while I saw two men on the bridge gantry looking towards me. Very slowly part of the bridge began to lift up, creaking as if it hadn’t been in operation for years. As I sailed Felicia under the bridge, I noticed the wind had actually increased from the S.W. quarter; the prospect of sailing alone did not appeal to me at the moment so I anchored Felicia on the seaward side of the bridge and from here I managed to row ashore in my small dinghy. On my way to Great Wakering village I was questioned by a W.D. policeman — how long was I going to stay near the bridge and when would I be sailing again? However, after taking a few particulars I think he was satisfied that I wasn’t a Russian spy.

Sunday morning dawned with a fog but it cleared very quickly to give way to a moderate W.N.W. wind. High water was 6.30 a.m. I was late in getting away on the tide. However as I was about to weigh anchor, I noticed a Debutante under power and sail going in a seaward direction. As I sailed Felicia in the general direction towards Havengore Head I noticed a post on my port hand and also some withies on my starboard. I immediately altered course to starboard thinking it was the deep water channel, but I was too late. I was aground well and truly on the hard Maplin Sand. Looking aft I could see that I was not the only one aground. When the tide receded I walked over the sands to investigate who was sailing the Deb. It turned out to be a friend of Doug Lamb, the skipper’s name being Peter and his crew was a young boy on holiday from school. Peter and I discussed the prospect of sailing across the estuary on the Sunday evening tide.

During the afternoon I noticed the wind had backed from W.N.W. to S.W. moderate to fresh. I decided to put one reef in the main sail and carry the storm jib. Felicia was now snubbing on her anchor warp, it was high water 7.p.m. I had difficulty in getting under way owing to the fact that they were neap tides; also we were both on a lee shore. Peter was using his outboard motor in order to fight against the wind and get into deep water. I was now well under way sailing for the South Shoebury Buoy. Here I found it rather rough going with a threatening beam sea with strong south-wester blowing, however I continued sailing S by E until I reached the Spile Buoy and the Four Fathoms Channel. The evening light was beginning to fade over the estuary and in its place various buoy lights began to dominate the scenery. On approaching Warden Bay, on the Isle of Sheppey side, I could see various shore lights including Shellness. These shore lights were very confusing because the East Swale River is unlit. Fortunately I had Mother Nature’s help — moonlight shining through the gap in the clouds every two or three minutes which dimly showed up the muddy shore of the River Swale. Somewhere over on my port hand lay the treacherous Horse Sands. As I sailed further into the blackness of the night I could hear a wash on both sides of the river but I could not distinguish anything. Suddenly there was a grating sound, I upped helm instantly and bore away on the starboard tack, fortunately I did not run aground this time. On looking at the chart I knew that was Horse Sands. It was now 11 p.m. so I decided to anchor Felicia near the Isle of Harty side which would be fairly sheltered from the S.W. winds.

Monday morning’s weather was foul. Felicia was pulling hard on her anchor warp, I had to let more warp out so she would not drag her anchor. The S.W. wind was increasing to gale force — there were white horses in the River Swale as far as one could see. On looking through my binoculars over on the Whitstable Flats I could see one solitary boat which was getting rather a buffeting; looking at the boat again it was Peter, who now was trying to get under way to find a sheltered place in the river somewhere. Eventually Peter anchored his Deb. opposite Horse Sands on the Whitstable side of the river. Towards evening the wind began to moderate; with the incoming tide Peter and I sailed into Faversham Creek and both anchored our vessels at the Hollowshore Cruising Club.

The radio forecast for Tuesday morning was not good. Peter decided to sail up to Queenborough and go back home to Maldon because he had to be at work on Thursday. I did not sail myself owing to the unsettled weather. The Hollowshore Cruising Club were very helpful to me. They gave me a mooring which was free of charge.

To make a change from sailing I borrowed a cycle from Faversham and cycled off to Doddington Youth Hostel which is situated on the North Downs. For those who are members of the Y.H.A. this hostel is worth visiting. An old oast house, originally used for the drying of hops then converted into a private hospital — later on, during the last war, used as a boys’ home for lads from London’s East End — now, as a hostel waits to welcome you into its unique atmosphere.

Wednesday morning weather was not much better than Tuesday’s grey skies and high winds. However I enjoyed the cycle ride from Doddington through the Kent lanes to Faversham. In the evening I made myself comfortable in the bar lounge of the clubhouse. Before going on with this account I will give a few details about my boat. Length overall 16’, L.W.L. 14’, beam 5’3”, draft 1’6” with bilge keels and small cabin. Sail area 120 sq.ft. gunter rig.

On Thursday morning at 10.30 I decided to sail for home port Burnham-on-Crouch. The weather report was not encouraging so in order to be safe rather than sorry I reefed the mainsail and carried the storm jib which is about 30 sq.ft. I have found this is quite enough to handle when single handed. When I weighed anchor it started to rain, the wind had freshened from the S.W., visibility was fair as I sailed Felicia down the River Swale and into the Thames Estuary. I could see there were quite a few steamers, but these ocean giants did not discourage me in making the estuary crossing. After locating the position of the Spile Buoy I sailed compass course N by E until I reached the East Shoebury Buoy. The tide was now half ebb and looking ahead I could see the Black Tail Spit Buoy. I had to alter course when I reached the S.E. Maplin Buoy to N.E. by E to clear the shallow water at Maplin Edge. The weather had improved slightly, the rain had stopped and the sun was trying to show itself. So far I had enjoyed the sail immensely. On looking at the western sky I noticed a large ominous black cloud which was moving in a N.E. direction. Before I realised what was happening to the wind the sea around me changed from light blue to a grey green, the sky became dark, suddenly the wind came like a thousand demons howling through the rigging and sent the mainsail hard against the port stay. I had to act quickly in order put Felicia before the wind — she was now running like a scalded cat. Visibility was getting worse as the wind and rain increased in strength. I was not feeling at all happy at the prospect of being driven on towards the Swin Spitway. On looking ahead I could just see the South Whitaker Buoy in a mass of foaming water. I wanted to bear away to port so that I could fetch the Whitaker Channel. I decided to bring Felicia up into the wind. As I hauled in the mainsail I altered helm to starboard, a large wave caught Felicia amidships and I was thrown off balance over to the port side of the cockpit. This was not a very nice experience, for one awful moment I thought Felicia was in irons. In the next minute she was round on the port tack at last sailing in the right direction.

The wind rapidly decreased in strength as I sailed for the South Buxey Buoy. The flood tide was beginning to creep over the Foulness Sands, I had quite a good way to go before reaching Burnham so I decided to row in the absence of wind. As I rowed I could see other craft lowering their sails and starting their auxiliaries.

The evening was closing in, flashing buoy lights began to dominate the scene once again. I was making very slow progress towards the West Buxey, eventually I became tired of rowing so I anchored near the West Buxey. I had been sailing 10 hours without a break so I decided to make a nice cup of hot cocoa on the primus stove, but I experienced great difficulty in brewing up owing to the tide bouncing the boat about like a rocking horse. Fortunately, a light breeze sprang up from the N.E. which was in my favour for the sail into the River Crouch. It was quite dark now except for the flashing buoy lights. Weighing Felicia’s anchor proved yet another hazardous business. I was on the bow hauling in the anchor warp, each time I attempted to take in more warp I was thrown nearly off balance. For fear of going overboard I had to leap back and hold on to the mast. Eventually I sailed into the Crouch and anchored near Shore Ends. The time was 11 p.m.

On Friday I sailed into Burnham. My sailing holiday was nearly over. On Saturday morning I sailed to Stow Creek against a strong S.W. wind. Sunday morning I sailed up to Fenn Creek to visit the Eyott Sailing Club. Here is a sheltered anchorage for any sailing dinghy. My holiday was now at an end.