to the Firth of…

A single-handed cruise from northern England to Scotland and back by Ed and Len Wingfield, sailing in turn in a Dockrell 17. They met up en route with John Perry and Josephine Street in their fifteen footer.

The Dockrell 17 was described in detail in Bulletin 111. It is a 16’ 9” GRP Bermudan rigged open dayboat based on a traditional naval design. A displacement of 900 lbs includes 200 lb of iron ballast along the keel. Sail area is 115 sq ft. It has a small foredeck and a folding hood fitted forward of the mast. She carries a 5 HP Mercury l/s outboard, but sails surprisingly well and proved to be an excellent sea-boat.

My part of the cruise covered the Northumbrian Heritage Coast from Amble, and then on into the Firth of Forth as far as Cramond. These coast are exposed to a fetch of some 600 miles from north-east winds which can give rise to a fearful swell making most of the harbours difficult or impossible to enter. Fog is another hazard with easterly winds. Furthermore most of these harbours are tiny and dry out. After Amble only the Lindisfarne and Berwick harbours can be considered in bad conditions until Edinburgh is reached. Cruising along these coasts in open boats is only for hardy and highly experienced sailors, but there is some easy and very rewarding local sailing.

Amble is a pleasant little port with a range of shops and pubs and an all-tide public launching site a little way up the Coquet. There is a free car park and loo by the launching site. It is possible to sail a small boat up to Warkworth and beyond after half-tide — see Bulletin 154.

Tuesday 17th June HW Amble 1328 4.4 m

1645 I cast off from the Coquet YC pontoon under motor, mandatory under CYC rules, just before Goosander grounded. Once outside the harbour I picked up a F2-3 southerly after hoisting all sail. Alnmouth was soon to port but it is impossible to enter here except around HW (-2, +2.5) for dinghies. Initially the weather had been clear but mist was now making pilotage difficult. I needed an anchorage before dark and Boulmer Haven a few miles ahead was the best option. Low reefs extend out from Boulmer and the land was disappearing in the murk. I couldn’t find the southern entrance post, but at last saw the main one and the entrance with difficulty. With the beacons in line I motored in but I couldn’t make out the marks for a change of course but near low water the rocks were all visible. I grounded on a sandy patch by the coble moorings at 1915. After laying out the anchors I waded ashore, but there was only time to use the telephone box without being caught ashore by the rising tide with no tender.

It was now starting to rain. As Ed had warned me that the folding hood leaked I secured some old canvas over it and retired. Boulmer is not a good anchorage in south-easterly winds and the boat rocked uncomfortably when the reef was covered by the rising tide.

Wednesday 18th June HW Amble 1415 4.6 m

0745 Motored out in a flat calm. I found the breeze just beyond the reef and set sail. By the time the great ruined castle of Dunstanburgh was abeam I had lost the ebb but the fair wind was increasing. At 1000, threading between the rocks I sailed into Low Norton’s sheltered anchorage, taking up a mooring after missing it three times under sail. The Dockrell’s long straight keel made her handling so different from my Leader and besides I had no boathook! A large Dutch ketch was just leaving and two Alacritys were coming in. They were the only boats I saw sailing on the whole voyage.

1305 After a break I cast off under sail and at 1430 North Sunderland, Seahouses, was abeam. I then headed out for the sea area south of the Inner Farne Island, which is said to be the most likely place around Britain to see killer whales. There were rafts of puffins, diving under my boat and coming up astern with three or four sand eels in their beaks, which they hold with their specially adapted tongues.

Guillemots and eider ducks stayed just as close. Gannets were beginning to appear on foraging trips from their nest sites far to the north on Bass Rock — but no killer whales! I altered course for Staple Sound, with great rock pinnacles rising a sheer ninety feet and distant views of the Outer Farne, site of Grace Darling’s famous rescue. For once there were no seals in sight. Perhaps there were in fact killer whales around and they had scared the seals off.

I considered anchoring for the night in The Kettle, the anchorage between the Inner Farne, Wideopens and Knocks Reef, but decided it would be too exposed at high water during the small hours. The tide had dropped too low for me to enter Budle Bay so I carried on for the Holy Island of Lindisfarne.

Holy Island is isolated only after half-tide and at low water is accessible to vehicular traffic via a long causeway. Between Lindisfarne and the mainland stretches a vast area of sand and mud flats which, when draining, give rise to fast ebb currents in the entrance channel. The line in is marked by huge brick-built beacons on the mainland shore. One follows the line of these beacons until a mark on shore lines up with Lindisfarne church, then the new line is followed between shingle banks into Lindisfarne harbour. At 1740 I went ashore near the beacons for a short walk among the great dunes, then motored over to the harbour. I found a sheltered spot clear of moored and anchored boats, put out both anchors and had a meal while waiting for the boat to ground.

Thursday 19th June HW Amble 1459 Forecast S F3-4 then var.

0630 After a quiet night, to avoid grounding again I motored out in light rain with the folding hood still raised to get into deep water by Old Law — having a motor is a great convenience but I would have liked oars too. At 0900 I set sail in light airs and smooth water. I noted that the Triton and Ridge buoys were still in position; a number of buoys on this coast have been withdrawn as a cost cutting exercise. At 1115 the low-lying north end of Lindisfarne was abeam and I altered course inshore to get out of the worst of the foul tide and to avoid losing sight of the land in the heavy mist looming ahead. By 1230 I was off Berwick harbour with a fine view of Stevenson’s great railway viaduct over the river Tweed. The wind then fell off so I was obliged to motor, making slow progress against the tide in the light rain. The coast however was spectacular. Red cliffs formed into tortuous shapes by subterranean movements, rock stacks and large caves with a waterfall dropping sheer into the sea at one point. I was considering anchoring for a belated meal when I realised that the tiny village of Burnmouth was close ahead. I looked for the harbour’s leading marks on the cliffs but could not find them, so I motored in by compass course at 1505.

Burnmouth is a charming little village, but has no shop and the nearest pub is on the main road right up the high cliffs. I nevertheless appreciated a shelter built into the harbour wall where I was able to eat a meal out of the rain. I topped up with water and was off again at 1545.

At 1630 the breeze picked up and Eyemouth was abeam. This busy fishing harbour is not recommended for yachts, so I carried on to St Abbs, picking my way through the rocks to enter harbour. The berthing fees had gone up to £10 per night but he would use his discretion and only charged me a fiver. The tiny village of St Abbs is very attractive and unspoilt and has one small shop. Friday 20th June HW Amble 1543 Forecast SE F4-5

At 1500 I cast off and cleared harbour under motor but had difficulty raising the mainsail between the entrance rocks. This was no place to mess about so motored clear, and then sailed on the 60 sq ft foresail only. This gave me good speed through the water but the tide funnelling round St Abbs Head was against me. It took a long time to get past. Skateraw, and Bass Rock which had earlier been in view disappeared in the gathering murk. At 1700 Skateraw was again visible but still a long way off. At this point a village abeam gave a check on my position. Now I raised the reefed mainsail and furled the foresail. By 1910 Barnes Ness Light was abeam. Dunbar was unmistakably identified by the great conical hill behind it, and the new and intrusively styled leisure centre overlooking the harbour. As with St Abbs, entering was not easy, even under motor and I wondered how they coped in the age of sail and oars. I took a temporary berth at 2010. Harbour dues were £7.50 per night.

I took an evening stroll round the town which was more attractive than I remembered it. There were however many pubs. When a screaming drunk amused himself by kicking windows in I decided it was time to return to the boat. Finding the best berth for the night was a problem. There was plenty of room alongside the northern wall, but this has a projecting course at its base which will clear a keelboat, but might well damage a centreboard boat’s sides. A local yachtsman showed me a mooring which was vacant, the owner being away on a sailing honeymoon. There were high winds and rain all night, but there was only one leak — over my bunk!

In the afternoon I walked to the John Muir Nature Reserve, east of Dunbar. This lovely place is an area of sand dunes and marshy flats; something like the Newtown or north Norfolk harbours but quite unspoilt. The Scottish River Tyne, a medium sized stream, flows through it into Bellhaven Bay. I was planning to enter this natural harbour so made mental notes of its features.

John Perry and Josephine Street arrived in Dunbar in the late afternoon and launched from a slip in the inner harbour. I spent the night with my boat against the harbour wall, but J&J more sensibly laid out a kedge with a line to the ladder and had a quieter night.

Sunday 22nd June HW Leith 1647 Forecast NE 3-4, 5 imminent

After a swim and a coffee in the new leisure complex we agreed to try for the Tyne. The harbourmaster confirmed that its entrance was navigable by dinghy, and that we should enter close by the Bellhaven Sands rather than where the channel was shown on the OS map. Chart C27 understandably gives little detail and the pilot book gives none. I motor-sailed out of the harbour with reefed mainsail only, but even so had problems because of the huge breaking waves rolling in. The outboard had to be throttled down constantly to stop it racing as the stern lifted. Although the wind was no more than F4, heavy spray came aboard. This was worrying because the Dockrell is virtually an open boat, and the buoyancy is adequate only to keep the boat lying awash if flooded. Once clear of the rocks I settled down on a broad reach and looked astern to see how J&J were faring. They had no motor and the 15 footer was sailing under its heavy weather Bermudan rig. Despite being a highly experienced couple, wearing dry suits and in a very special boat — heavy lead drop keel, small self-draining cockpit etc — they were having a hard time getting out. Later they told me that they had been swamped at one point, and that no ordinary dinghy would have survived these conditions.

However another testing time was ahead at the Tyne entrance. Taking what seemed the best line I shot through over the bar. The heavy boat, although carrying only a reefed mainsail, surfed for a long, long time on one wave. Once through I anchored and waited for J&J. We had both touched rocks with our centreboards which surprised us as it was not far off high water.

We decided to explore upriver so I took J&J in tow, navigating the broad but shallow stretch of water within the entrance with only the OS map and look of the water as a guide to the deep channel. Rocks were showing here and there and I could not see where the little river entered but I carried on to where the map showed it to be and suddenly, there it was, about twenty yards wide. The scenery was wild and romantic with no sign of human life until Tyninghame House, in the French chateau style, appeared through the trees to starboard. Soon after we came to an elaborate wrought iron footbridge, too low to pass under without lowering masts. The land around the great house was obviously private as the locked gate on the bridge confirmed. The other side was pasture, but the map showed that access to a road might well be difficult. We decided to drop back with the falling tide and anchor in the wild, wide open part where public access was clearly allowed. Unfortunately I sailed up a slight runnel to a high area away from the shore, grounded and could not get off. I was worried I could be beneaped with no way off except by digging a little channel but we had no spade.

J&J joined me for a walk down to inspect the entrance at low tide. We found the channel indicated on both the chart and the map was littered with huge boulders and that the safest line was in the shallow water uncomfortably close to the sands. We all three agreed that we would never enter again except with light offshore breezes. The 1755 shipping forecast spoke of F7 so we made no plans to leave harbour on the morrow. I was still concerned that my son’s boat might be beneaped should the tide levels be lower than predicted.

Monday 23rd June HW Leith 0501,1731 5.6 m

I woke at dawn to feel the boat rocking and dashed out to see the tide was apparently already ebbing. I stripped off my lower clothes and jumped in but found that the water was not deep enough to float the boat over the bank into the creek. I could only push it down the runnel the way I had sailed in. In my befuddled state I cast off both anchor warps, intending to retrieve them later when the tide fell, and got the boat moving. Unfortunately at the edge of the creek a gust of wind took the boat out into deep water, with me dangling from it and without the strength to haul myself aboard — I am 73 and never was strong. I swallowed my pride and yelled for help. Fortunately Josephine a light sleeper, looked out from their tent cover and roused John. He appraised the situation in a flash, buoyed his own anchors, rowed still under his tent cover guided by Josephine, leapt on my boat and dragged me on board. I was then able to start my motor, and go after Josephine who was drifting off in their boat with the tent still up. John’s buoyed anchors were then retrieved, and he moored my boat astern of his. Josephine made a hot drink, and I got into dry clothes and then into my sleeping bag. Even so, I was not properly warm until breakfast time some four hours later.

By then we were aground in the creek but the mud was firm enough to walk on. I wandered into the woods and surprised a roe deer drinking at a pool. Looking inland one could see the great escarpment of Lothian Edges, but the dominating feature was the conical peak of Traprain Law. A number of such peaks can be seen on both sides of the Forth; ancient volcanoes no doubt. Walking the flats I saw that the rocks I had passed on entry were actually man-made rock piles marking what appeared to be a training wall of loose stones, which ran from Sandy Hirst over half a mile to the deep water channel. Another puzzling feature were massive poles in the sands and saltings, positioned apparently at random.

When the incoming tide floated us I motored with J&J in tow back up to the footbridge. Here my boat was left anchored and the fifteen footer’s mast was lowered for us to row upstream as far as the roadbridge. Mooring here, it was but a short walk to Tyninghame village.

Tuesday 24th June HW Leith 0545 5.5 m, 1818 5.5 m

We agreed to sail for Aberlady Bay but realised that getting out over the bar would not be easy. J&J got into their dry suits, hoisted their heavy weather rig and were away with the ebb. At 0650 I followed motor-sailing and took them in tow through the entrance. Here conditions were really bad with the motor racing as it came near the surface over each wave, and the waves threatening to break aboard. When I thought we had made it I yelled to J&J to slip the tow, and was too busy coping with the dangerous breakers to look round — I presumed that the Tyne ebb would get them out. Once clear I looked back and found that after a struggle they had turned back into the Tyne. I dared not face those breakers again, so there was nothing for it but to carry on.

Out at sea conditions were moderate, and I passed inside Bass Rock, one of the few nesting sites for gannets. On the shore cliffs Tantallon Castle, the massive stronghold of the Black Douglas came in view and by 0925 I was off Canty Bay, a listed anchorage, but now exposed to the north’easterly swell. We had planned to rendezvous at anchor off the rocky island of Fidra, but as now J&J would not be coming I decided to try for North Berwick, where I might replenish my supplies. This little port and resort is dominated by North Berwick Law, a steep conical hill of 185 metres rising out of a fairly flat land. By now the weather was fine and warm. The pilot book indicated an anchorage protected by rocks just outside the North Berwick harbour walls, so I sailed in not expecting any problems.

However the seas in the narrow entrance were very much rougher than I expected. I was pooped by one of the breakers, not much water got in the boat, but the last of my dry clothes were soaked. The anchorage shown in the pilot book is in fact now all moorings. Most of these were taken by yachts but I could see one or two free. As by then I was nearly on the beach I started the motor to get off the lee shore. At the crucial moment the motor came off the transom, but I managed to cope without hitting any of the yachts. Very glad that I had purchased a boathook in Dunbar, I grabbed a vacant mooring and settled down to sort things out. There was a little water up by the harbour wall, but I could not tell whether I would get in far enough to reach a ladder so I stayed where I was. The tide was still falling and the beach only a few yards away, when a chap in a dry suit came wading along looking for a mooring chain. He advised me that my mooring would be extremely uncomfortable when the tide rose again, but that conditions in the entrance which had worsened with the falling tide, would ease nearer half flood. North Berwick is a pretty little resort, and I would have liked to have walked round it, but not with the worry of getting back through those entrance breakers on my mind.

As soon as conditions eased I took a second reef in the mainsail and cast off the mooring at 1430. I kept the foresail furled, but with the tide now fair and with a following wind, the islands of Craigleith and Lamb were soon passed and Fidra light was due south at 1515. The Fife side of the firth was now clearly visible, with conspicuous twin peaks inland, but I could not identify them. The rocky Isle of May was still visible way out to sea. ‘June on the Isle of May’ had been the title of a popular song in my youth. I wondered how many of the untold thousands who had sung that song had even had the faintest idea where it was!

Off Eyebroughy Point it was time to gybe on to the other tack and then check the shoreline from the OS map. After Gullane Point came the sands of Aberlady Bay, which I carefully skirted, sailing just outside the breakers until, due west of Craigielaw Point, the entrance seemed clear. Constantly checking the depth in the clear water, and noting the course of the channel from the OS map, I motored in against the wind and dropped anchor in shallow water of Aberlady village. A Nature Reserve warden came up to order me out of the haven, saying that boats were not allowed within the reserve. I said that I would go on the morning tide when I had rested. A local man later claimed that boats were in fact allowed in, that Aberlady was once a port of considerable importance, and that the remains of the old quay would be visible at low tide. Not only legitimate trading went on, he said, on dark nights the smugglers would steal in to be met by carts with wheels bound in sacking to deaden the noise.

I later heard a call from the shore. It was J&J who had driven round by car to see how I had got on! Their boat was still within the Tyne but they hoped for easier conditions on the morrow. Failing that they would have to persuade the local farmer to tow their boat and trailer out. Someone had called out to them that they were the first boat in the Tyne for a hundred years. They called back “No it isn’t, there was another one in yesterday!” — mine. We obtained fish and chips in the village’s only shop, and then J&J had to return. The village is yet another very attractive one, some of the stone cottages were of massive construction and therefore of considerable age.