Across the Channel in a pocket cruiser

Way back in 1962 I purchased Ellen, an 18 foot Dragonfly, a sturdy two berth cruiser. My version had an efficient Bermudan working rig of 164 sq ft — 185 with genoa — and bilge keels with a central ballast keel of cast iron. This gave a draft of only two feet, but a displacement of 0.9 tons. The Dragonfly was considerably more powerful than the average pocket cruiser, yet despite the large open cockpit she was very seaworthy because of her stiffness.

When I bought her, Ellen was moored on the open sands of the Thames Estuary near Leigh‑on-Sea. I would wade out over the sands as the rising tide reached her and sail off as soon as she floated. Her equipment was basic, a Seagull longshaft outboard, a heavy fisherman anchor with chain cable, an ex-RAF box compass, a plunger pump, a light camping stove, a hurricane lamp and of course the well-tried ‘bucket ‘n chuckit’ toilet system.

The sailing characteristics were in most respects more similar to a heavy dinghy than a miniature yacht. Although the boat would point well enough in smooth waters, getting to windward in boisterous sea could be a problem, and the outboard motor mounted on the quarter could not be relied upon in such conditions. As with a dinghy, navigation notes had to be made before starting out since taking bearings in rough seas was difficult, especially when single-handed.

I explored the estuary and east coast up to Brightlingsea, but as I needed to bring her closer to my home near Twickenham for the winter I decided to cruise the south Thames area before doing so. In the following notes the weather conditions are as condensed from the Met Office certified document 3363.

28th Sept ‘63 HW Sheerness 0903. Forecast NW 4-6 occ 7 decreasing.

1015. Reached mooring at Chalkwell-on-Sea just before it dried out so cast off at once under jib only. Sailed into the deeper water of Leigh Creek (Ray Gut), then into main Thames Estuary channel past Southend pier, making fair progress with the following breeze. I was singlehanded.

1255. Shivering Sand Tower abeam which is one of the Thames Estuary forts with a gun platform on great stilts. Having at last stowed the gear properly, I set the mainsail. I carried on in the main channel then cut across the Tongue and Margate sandbanks taking soundings with a boathook.

1715. Followed a motorboat into Margate harbour with rising tide, nevertheless bottoming twice on the sand bar though wind and sea were moderate at the time. Moored against harbour wall and was made very welcome by Margate Yacht Club members.

29th Sept ‘63 Forecast SW veering NW 6-7, perhaps 8 in east.

1100. Cast off fully reefed, tacking out of the narrow entrance channel heeled well over just clearing the harbour wall. The fishermen there hurriedly drew in their lines and stood well back, my tall mast sweeping by too close for comfort! Once clear I bore away and ran down to the North Foreland. From here it was very heavy going beating from the Foreland to Ramsgate in f5-6 from ahead, making slow progress.

1500. Entered Ramsgate harbour. The previous three hours were the hardest of the whole cruise.

30th Sept ‘63 Forecast NW 7 at first, moderating to 4, later SW 5-6.

1000. Left Ramsgate under one reef heading for Dover inshore of Goodwin Sands, but was prepared to turn back in the event of unfavourable forecast.

1200. Reached past Deal pier, winds light to moderate.

1245. Altered course for South Goodwin lightship.

1345. Passed lightship, Cap Gris-Nez in view. Altered course for Calais.

The wind freshened to f5 or perhaps 6 as I closed the French coast. Here the tidestream was running at 2.5 knots against the wind, pushing up rough seas. The little boat rode well, but to avoid the risk of broaching-to I headed close inshore for a slacker current and smoother seas. By this time I had been carried westwards to Wissant, so ran back along shore to the harbour. A large tanker appeared to be anchored ahead, but as I got nearer I found it to be newly wrecked and moored to the shore by long cables. I felt very thankful that it had not been dark, since I could have been dismasted by those cables!

1815. Entered Calais harbour, moored against harbour wall until the tide rose so I could lock into the Bassin Oest at 2030. Having had previous experience of French customs, I did not bother with them and they did not bother me. In fact I do not recall anyone taking any notice of me or my boat at all apart from the lock-keeper who collected 1.90 francs. The Bassin Oest yacht harbour was almost empty in those days.

Although Calais harbour was interesting and colourful, the town had little to recommend it. However in those days the coast to the east of the town was still unspoiled and provided me with good walking. It was almost deserted. Some miles along I passed a peasant hoeing his smallholding. I may well have been the only stranger to pass by all day, but he never even bothered to look up! Later on I disturbed a flock of tiny waders, not realising that two French ‘sportsmen’ were lying hidden with shotguns waiting to blast them out of existence. I was not popular! Nevertheless when I visited the cafe L’Amiral in the evenings the locals were friendly enough, but my almost complete lack of French was naturally a handicap. Heavy weather prevented return for the next day or two.

4th Oct ‘63.

I wanted to return to England, but sea conditions outside were too rough. A ten ton motor yacht left harbour several times to test conditions but each time returned.

2400. Motored through the locks to the tidal basin to be ready for better weather.

5th Oct ‘63. Forecast W 5-6 decreasing but then NW 6. HW Dover 1315 (BST)

0815. Sailed out of harbour to avoid risk of motor being swamped in rough conditions, short tacking out of narrow entrance against flood tide.

0900. Cleared harbour, rough conditions with spring tide running at 2.5 to 3 knots against wind force 5-6. Sailed as close as I could to windward. Checked progress at first buoy, and decided that strong tidal stream would compensate for severe leeway. Shipping heavy spray. Good visibility, Dover cliffs in view, decided to proceed having four hours favourable tide.

1400. Tide now against me. Waves quite large and very steep — it seemed to go dark in the trough of one big ‘un! Constant concentration to drive boat to windward.

1430. Passed South Goodwin lightship with tide running strongly eastwards, but managed to close inside Goodwin Sands. Water now relatively smooth under the shelter of the land, and wind moderated to force 3-4, so was able to maintain a northerly course with occasional short tacks to windward.

1600. Intended to enter Ramsgate but tacked too late; a strong tidal stream sweeps out of Sandwich Bay. At this point I unshipped the motor which had been deluged with spray, dried it and after several attempts started it, motor sailing to the North Foreland.

1800. Anchored by North Foreland buoy to wait for flood to help me up to Margate.

1900. Nasty cross sea so motor-sailed up to Margate. Motor failed several times due to spray.

2000. Arrived off Margate but could not enter because tide was out, so anchored outside for the night.

6th Oct ‘63.

Entered Margate harbour with the motor still giving trouble. Cleared customs, then left the boat to go home for a much needed rest.

I returned the next weekend with a crew and sailed to the Thames Estuary via the Swale, the creek separating the Isle of Sheppey from the mainland. This is an attractive alternative to the coastal passage and has many associations with the Thames barge trade. The Swale railway bridge was a little too low for our mast, so we had to wait for it to be opened until after a train had passed. The Swale joins the River Medway near Queenborough where we went ashore for a short break. The naval base of Sheerness nearby was still operational in those days and walking through ‘Bluetown’ was like going back into the nineteenth century.

Emerging from the Medway into the Thames estuary’s Sea Reach the ebb tide was strongly against us, so we tacked in over the southern mudbanks as far as we dared, going about each time we felt resistance under the keel or lost our nerve. Eventually we rounded into Lower Nore Reach and close-reached to pass Shorne Mead Battery, and on to the historic port of Gravesend.

Gravesend, still no. 1 in the world on Lloyds list, developed because its high ground provided a dry landing ‘one tide from London’. The waterfront still had great character, first small shipbuilders and then the entrance to the derelict Thames and Medway Canal and the promenade. This was still embanked with bags of cement being brought in by sailing barge from a distant relative’s cement works near Brightlingsea. Gravesend Fort, at the head of the promenade, once commanded the Thames Estuary with huge guns. My father as a young member of the local volunteer unit was trained to man these guns, but no doubt by then they were already made obsolescent by the rapid advance in military technology. Incidentally in my father’s youth they still dragged a burning boat through the Gravesend streets as part of the New Year celebrations, a custom presumably borrowed from their Viking neighbours on the Essex side. There was less of interest on the river bank until Greenwich. After Tower Bridge we lowered the mast and motored up to the half-tide lock at Richmond, and then to my mooring at Twickenham.

I had arrived at Twickenham in time to enter for my club’s last handicap race of the season. The club course was the narrow and tree-lines Twickenham Reach, but for once the breeze was against the current, thus enabling my bilgekeeler to hold her handicap against the much more weatherly National 12’s. Surprisingly the 12’s helmsmen seemed somewhat less than appreciative when blanketed by 185 sq ft of sail and with nearly a ton of boat just aft of their transoms!

Note: The sailing conditions encountered may seem heavy by today’s standards, but would not have been considered at all excessive for a small boat in the days of commercial sail.