The Roach

Much of the sailing in the Roach is influenced by the notices forbidding landing on the various islands. Obviously this makes access difficult at these points. On the other hand, whenever my sail is seen by those in charge of the firing ranges, furious fusillades are loosed off. So far none of them has hit us, so they must either be bad shots or there is, coincidentally, a need for firing practice when we pass that way. Whatever the reason for the noise, it has the effect of making us heed the warnings not to land, but only where there are notices expressly forbidding it.

My favourite spot is at the head of Fleet Head Creek, possibly because of my first approach. We were ghosting along in a very light wind when, as we rounded a bend, we saw thousands of birds on the water, their feathers shining in the gold of the late afternoon sun. We scarcely dared to breath as we approached them, but eventually we saw some rows of swans, flying away to the east. Never since have I managed to surprise so many birds, but first impressions tend to last, and Fleet Head Creek remains my first choice for a picnic, and would be ideal for an overnight stay for those who, like me, enjoy drying out in the gutways overnight. With sails furled and silence imposed upon the crew, there would b a wealth of interest for anyone who wished to study the wild life when the water had gone.

Paglesham Reach is also a very pleasant place to stop, and there is good access to the land at Shuttlewood’s boat yard. This reach is rather crowded with moored boats, however, as it does not dry out.

A sail around Potton Island and Rushley Island is very interesting, but needs to be undertaken on a rising tide, as it does dry out. There are plenty of little gutways and inlets into which one can wriggle the boats for an occasional night on the mud. Sailing from Paglesham Reach round to Potton Island, you come to a swing bridge which was not marked on the chart I used, but which is quickly opened by the bridge attendant. However, as the bridge house is on the north side of the bridge, an approach from the other direction can result in some delay unless you have either an exceptionally strong voice or hooter. This trip also brings you in sight of the Haven Gore Bridge with its access — at the top of the tide and by prior arrangement — to the sea. It is a quick way round to the Thames, avoiding the Foulness Sands.

To explore the Roach you should have a chart, as the very attractive creeks form a bit of a maze, and although the current is usually a good guide as to which way to turn, it can be misleading, especially towards Haven Gore, where the water flows through Haven Gore Creek instead of towards the Crouch. So if you do go without a chart, be prepared to spend a night on the mud waiting for the water to come back.

Through the Crouch

The Crouch does not have the same sort of wide vistas as the Blackwater, but it has a charm of its own. I do not think much of the muddy banks of the main river, with old hulls and rotting piles concealed at high tide, but painfully obvious in the absence of water. However, the more distant views of the low hills, each with its own church on top, and the background of the wonderful cloud effects which seem to be peculiar to the Crouch, more than compensates for the drabness of the foreground; and if the foreground is lightened, as it so often is, by a few sails, then the picture is complete.

Up river from Fambridge, where it is possible to land and seek liquid refreshments, the river becomes even more attractive, and one of the most pleasant excursions is from Creeksea is to Hullbridge, where, at a reasonable state of the tide, boats can tie up in front of the Anchor Inn and on a sunny day the crews can sit on the lawn drinking beer and watching the girls go by. It is a most interesting and attractive spot indeed.

Slightly further up river, on the north side, is Fenn Creek, my favourite picnic spot if the wind is unfavourable for the Anchor Inn. On the chart I use, Stone Creek is very small, but in fact at high tide it is navigable for a considerable distance, and is certainly the place I would pick in this area for an overnight stop, although land accessibility is not good.

It is possible to get to Battlesbridge at high tide, and access to civilisation is excellent; it would be too noisy for me here, as the main Chelmsford to Southend road passes this way.

Between Burnham and Creeksea is Wallasea Marina, but as I always sail from Creeksea and don’t like marinas anyway, I can give no report on it beyond saying that it appears to provide a comprehensive service for yachts and motor boats.

To seaward from the mouth of the Roach, the river gradually widens and the banks flatten until they gradually disappear. We are not yet safe from grounding, however, as the Ray Sand lies to the north and Foulness Sand to the south of you. It is possible to pass through the Ray Sand channel to head northwards to the Blackwater and Brightlingsea, but careful attention to the course is recommended. East of the Ray Sand is the Buxey Sand, a shoal which has always attracted me. Some parts of it dry out to leave a beautiful golden sand which, incidentally, in the wrong conditions will smash your boat to pieces very quickly. But it is my pleasure on a fairly calm day to beach my boat and brew up a cup of tea on the sand. Take care not to let the boat drift away, though, especially if you are a non-swimmer, for the Buxey is quickly covered when the tide turns.

A pleasant round trip, on a fine day, is to sail up the Whittaker Channel through the spit way and back down the Ray Sand Channel. I once sailed through the Spitway, running free, with the primus hissing away brewing the tea, but conditions are rarely that smooth so far out. On that day, as we sailed, or rather drifted back south through the Ray Sand Channel, the Buxey Beacon seemed to hang motionless in the air, as the sea merged into the sky without any obvious boundary. Half an hour later we were crashing into some vicious waves whipped up by a sudden force five against the tide. By that time we had put the Primus away, and as we beat back into the Crouch we were happy that we had not been caught in the Spitway with it lit.