by Eric Coleman

An account of Aurora’s 1965 summer cruise. Aurora: 13’ 6” cabin dinghy gunter rig.

Saturday 14th August, midday, 1 hour before H.W., wind S.E. to E. light airs, tacked down Bradwell Creek. Aurora was well laden with stores and water to last almost a fortnight plus books and painting equipment should we have time for any artistic efforts. Once outside we tacked inshore to avoid the last of the flood and encountered a group of canoes of the Essex Schools Sailing Centre. One youth was paddling as hard as he could with his head down. It was obvious that we would be struck amidships so I put the helm down to take the impact head on. At my yell, the youth looked up, uttered a fearful shriek and became paralysed. With a crash the boats met, his metal bow scoring a slice of paint from Aurora’s bow and roughening the wood which, fortunately, at this point is tough wych elm. The instructor apologised for the incident but the canoeist said, “Why don’t you look where you are going?”

Slowly the coast slid by and with only half the journey completed the favourable tide eased and the engine was started in an attempt to reach Walton Backwaters. On approaching the sand banks the engine had to be stopped just as darkness closed down. Approaching the banks too near was uncomfortable as the breakers due to the onshore wind earlier threw the boat about. For a while we paddled with the boat then Maureen went on strike and disappeared into the cabin. I anchored and had a smoke then the moon came up but promptly disappeared again. Meanwhile the tide had risen so I got underway with the sculling oar steering northeast at first then north, northwest and finally southwest. If I found that the sculling oar was not touching the bottom I would steer a more westerly course until it did, so I literally felt my way round the sandbanks with the oar. Once inside Walton Backwaters I sculled to a nearby creeklet and Maureen then popped up and prepared hot soup for supper at 11.30 p.m.

Sunday — wind S.W. light so left at ½ flood and fought tide to arrive at the Ore about an hour after the ebb had started but had no difficulty entering as this is one of those rivers where the current flows long after high and low water. Just inside the entrance we anchored to the shingle bank for a walk ashore for this is our favourite spot on the East Coast. Nowadays it is spoiled by oil discharged at sea and washed up here.

Monday. Had to leave before H.W. to take advantage of tide up the coast so walked along the shingle pulling the boat as the current was too strong to either sail or motor out. The light S.E. wind made things difficult at entrance but pushed and sculled into deep water until we found a place where the anchor would hold on the shingle bed. Hoisted sail and reached Southwold at L.W. Entrance too shallow for yachts anchored off and current still ebbing so entered under power and went right to the top of the harbour to anchor chased by the harbour master. He wanted us to have a mooring but we said no thanks. Even so he managed to charge us 4d. by assuming our displacement was a ton!

Tuesday. Sailed to Great Yarmouth and anchored just inside entrance. Wind E. 2-3 (still anti-cyclonic).

Wednesday. Hot sunny day but wind had shifted to S.W. 4-5 and barometer dropping steadily. Went ashore to buy paper with weather map and to satisfy Maureen’s need to stretch her long legs. Watched lifeboat launched in the afternoon — returned with waterlogged dinghy.

Thursday 3.15 a.m. judged wind S.S.W. 3-4 from local flags. Left entrance heading north at 4 a.m. with fair tide and the sky showing the first signs of dawn. The various coastal features were reeled off at a satisfying rate and the tide turned against us off Cromer. However we could sail full and bye with the moderate breeze and reached the entrance of Blakeney at 2.30 p.m. Average speed 4 knots for the 42 mile passage with sheltered water all the way. A boat entered and gave an indication of the channel but the buoys are only small orange ones and seals’ heads kept appearing to be confused with the buoys. Just as we started to tack against the strong ebb from the harbour vicious squalls hit us and the rain teemed down blotting out visibility.

No time to reef so spilled wind and tacked hopefully. Went aground once but lifted plate half up and at least knew where the channel wasn’t! Entered the harbour as squalls cleared in time to see fishing people being taken off various boats and disappearing up a ditch. The water was only inches deep so lowered sail and sculled and pushed until we were some distance up the channel. The sand was pure, soft and delicious to walk on and the weather was fine once more. We were left in the middle of Blakeney harbour, a dot in the vast expanse of sand.

Friday. Went up to Blakeney for fish and chip lunch then took the ebb out of the harbour to sail west, wind W. f3. Passed Wells and reached Burnham Overy at 6 p.m. but the channel had dried out so landed to investigate and decided there would be no water until after dark. Weather forecast gave intense depression over Scotland with gales in our area. The sun had set up ominously apparent backstays and with the light wind and foul tide it would be dark before we returned to Wells so we motor-sailed back. The sands stretch a good two miles off shore at Wells and we started up the long channel at dusk. It was low water so progress was made by a mixture of engine, sculling, pushing, lifting and sometimes exploring for deeper water by paddling well away from the boat. Often the depth was less than the draft of the boat (8”) but she would still run on her keel over the sand rills. As we neared Wells in the dark our way was lit by a raucous fun fair on the quay. With the help of a rising tide we found a sheltered anchorage in a small creek using a torch to avoid other boats and the steep banks. Got to bed at 11.30 p.m. as light rain started to fall.

Saturday. Rained and blew hard most of the day so lazed in bed reading and eating. Cleared in the evening so went ashore for fish and chips.

Sunday. Wind moderate W. with cloudless sky so sailed back to Blakeney to explore the area more thoroughly. Blakeney has a vast fleet of assorted dinghies which remind one of a swarm of butterflies spreading their multicoloured sails to the wind darting in all directions. They appear out of Blakeney Channel like bees out of a hive when the tide reaches them, scatter in the harbour for the four hours or so around high water, then return like bees at dusk. Shortly after the last sail disappears up the channel two-legged humans appear, to walk over that area of lovely firm sand where shortly before the boats had sailed. They mostly make for the National Trust headland which protects the harbour from the sea. The headland is shingle covered by shrubs and coarse grass and is a protected ternery.

Monday. As we had anchored far up Cley channel for the night there was plenty of time to explore the surrounding marshes and go into Blakeney for water and supplies before the tide returned about 3 p.m. Dropped down the harbour in a fresh breeze and anchored in the deeper part of the harbour for the night.

Tuesday 5 a.m. wind W. 3-4. Insufficient light to see the channel buoys and breakers gave the entrance a confused appearance. Waves were breaking on the outer banks, inner banks and sometimes in the channel. Threaded our way gingerly out, missed the first buoy but spotted the second and were over the bar at 6 a.m. feeling a bit shaken. Made good speed through the water but the tide turned against us at Cromer to slow our progress. With the wind now S.W. and slowly strengthening we tore along at full speed in sheltered water past a seemingly endless coast. After Cromer where the cliffs are about 200ft high the shore tends to flatten and with a grey day and moderate visibility it seems featureless.

Approaching Great Yarmouth we had to make long and short tacks in an increasingly rough sea, spilling the wind from the mainsail as it was not worth while to reef. Lines of white surf marked the sand banks offshore and the roar they made was frightening. Entered Yarmouth at 5.30 p.m.

The drilling for oil in the North Sea has had its effect on Yarmouth. Ocean-going tugs fuss in and out and a new quay was being built next to our once quiet little mud bay. Arc lights lit the night scene as bright as day and intermittent gasps of compressed air mingled with other heavy construction noises made sleep disturbed. People scramble to pay 15 guineas a week for the pleasure of holidaying in the large caravan sites situated on shore separated from the group of oil storage tanks by a high wall!

Wednesday night blew a gale and woke to find south cone hoisted. As we watched the dredger working at the new quay it brought up a metal object — paused to consider it — then swung the other way and gently deposited it on the beach 50 yards from us. It looked remarkably like a torpedo. Dredging stopped and I swung into action double reefing the mains’l, bending the small foresail and bringing up short on the anchor warp. A group of workmen stared down at the object, and went away. Half an hour later a group headed by a man in uniform (probably the harbour master) came up and looked at the object. Shortly afterwards the dredger started working again but I remained unconvinced and preferred the gale to being such close neighbours with the unidentified object so in the afternoon with wind W. force 6 and south cone still up we scuttled the six miles to Lowestoft in relatively smooth water.

Thursday. Southerly gale forecast though in actual fact the wind was S.W. 4-5. However, Maureen was all set for a shopping spree in Lowestoft’s pleasant shopping centre and my only regret was that we left it too late to buy a cooked chicken. We slopped round the fish market and inspected a deep sea trawler. The three echo sounders on the bridge were impressive until it was explained two were experimental! Made a magnificent purchase of gland packing suitable for Aurora’s small prop. shaft from Pryces of Lowestoft. They really are ship chandlers and not purveyors of imitation glass balls and anchor brooches as so many of these yacht chandlers turn out to be. I had despaired of ever being able to obtain such a necessary item. For 5/- the facilities of the palatial Royal Norfolk Yacht Club were at our disposal. Being completely self sufficient and not disposed to excessive use of soap and water we did not enter its doors. We were grateful for the use of the tender though, as I am not made for climbing the slippery iron ladders round the harbour.

Friday. Wind f3 N.E. Left about 7 am, after watching a trawler come in with a disabled sister tied alongside. It took much shunting back and forth to negotiate the sharp bend into the fish dock. Had an easy run down to the R. Ore using spinnaker much of the way. Took the last of the flood up the River Butley where, after considerable discussion about where the oyster beds began and ended, we anchored for the night.

Saturday. Weather unsettled with strong S.W. winds, sailed up the Alde to Iken Cliff stopping half way to reef. On the way back down the river with the strong ebb against f5 S.W. wind quite a sea was kicked up and made an exciting sail to the mouth of the Ore where we anchored for the night.

Sunday. Wind S.W. 3-4. Left about 6 a.m. with sculling oar at high speed. We prefer this method of exit as the fierce current usually makes sailing haphazard. Mistook the meeting of currents for a gravel bank, changed course and left by the normal entrance which meant loss of ground as the tide was still setting north. The wind piped up with the rising sun and as Aurora thundered along full and by every little while a green wave would crash on the forehatch and as she hit the next wave she appeared to be tossing the remaining water, which hadn’t cascaded back, into the air and catching it again like a dog playing with a bone. An hour of this sailing and we were glad to reef in the lee of Walton Point before coming hard on the wind. Various yachts appeared out of Harwich and it was interesting to compare our progress. One sleek greyhound well reefed seemed to stride after us and it turned out to be an eight metre. When she came closer Aurora was travelling at almost the same speed but losing ground badly by leeway. However, we soon overhauled a Westerly 22 towing a small pram — she was really performing rather badly in a rough sea to windward. Then a Folkboat overtook us but well out in order to clear the Colne Bar so that we were able to slip round Colne Point and gain a little lead. With the calmer water of the Colne Maureen decided to take over and I stripped off my soaking clothes. Before I could dry myself and don dry gear the wind piped up until it was fairly thundering overhead. I sat the boat out below and enjoyed a smoke changing from one side of the cabin to the other as Maureen wrestled with the elements. We sailed close in under the weather shore of Geedon Creek to avoid the swell. After an hour or so the wind decreased and the ebb set in so we were able to shift our anchor to the middle of the creek from where we had a grandstand view of the Colne entrance.

Bank Holiday Monday provided a gentle fine day for returning to our mooring at Bradwell. Another successful cruise completed to add to our store of memories.