Here we were again, enjoying an exhilarating sail. Ten o’clock on a holiday Saturday morning off Waldringfield, goosewinging towards Felixstowe in bright sunshine. The water was sparkling in the sharp shafts of sunlight, that also pick out the translucent, dear green of the new leaves on trees bordering the wooded shores.

The dinghy had a reefed main but still travelled at hull speed in the heavy gusts which periodically raced across the water to speed her on her way. The river was deserted as few others would venture out when the forecast said cloudy, cold and wet, whilst additionally, the sporting news said that it was ‘yet another Cup Final’ day. The only other craft I saw on the journey was a distant tan-sailed gaffer towing its tender, in typical East Coast fashion.

At about eleven o’clock I picked up a mooring close inshore at Felixstowe Ferry and pottered about fixing the usual details requiring attention on early season sails. George Saffrey arrived to launch his Cruz, followed by Dave Jennings with his Highlander 14. It was Low water now and so I sailed out to the Bar buoy to look for Ted Jones and Charles Proudfoot corning from the Walton Backwaters. They would have been using the ebb to bring them up and so they should have been in the vicinity. I couldn’t see them, but I could see that the shingle had built up on the Bar to restrict the width of the entrance to a very narrow channel. I had to consider whether I would have sufficient room to beat back through it if I should go out in my 13' Torch. It was most unusual.

A problem

I made it back and we three dinghies decided to beat up to Waldringfield to test our abilities in the conditions and to assess the best place to find shelter for the overnight stop. No sooner had the other two set off than I noticed that my centreboard was not behaving as it should do. A small screw had come out of a metal retaining strap allowing the board to float off its pivot bolt. I extracted the board and removed the strap so as not to lose it. I needed assistance to effect a permanent cure but my helpers had disappeared up the river. I stuffed the board back into the box and set off on the lengthy dead beat. At each tack I had to catch the board and replace it in as effective a position as I could manage, as well as manipulating the sails. During the delay Ted in his magic ‘egg’ (Sunspot 15) and Charles in his new Eagle (having sold his beautiful but smaller, Roamer) arrived to join the thrash to windward. Eventually we all came together at The Rocks where the dinghy crews took my Torch onto the beach, stripped out most of the kit and rolled it onto its side to refit the strap. Restored to health we all returned to the rough beat, with water crashing everywhere, as far as Waldringfield. before deciding that Ramsholt would probably hold the best prospect for relief from the strong northerly which had made the majority of the day as forecast, dull, cloudy and cold.

A meeting

The three dinghies went onto Ramsholt’s sandy shore at High water, whilst the pocket cruisers took a mooring each. The sunshine returned briefly in the evening when a group of customers arrived at the pub on horseback to produce a timeless quality to the rural Suffolk scene. The ‘East Coast Chapter’ of the DCA convened in the Ramsholt Arms that evening to exchange views in the easy, welcoming warmth of the snug. It rained in flurries during the night and wind hardly abated. I was especially pleased with the solid parking place of my dinghy when I listened to the sound of the new flood going up against the wind in the early hours. The weather wasn’t going to change, so at 06.30 I departed to beat upstream to Woodbridge before the tide left it dry, leaving the others to make good use of the wind to carry them downstream to their destinations later in the morning.

Deben meetings have had good weather and bad in the past, but never quite so cold. The warmth comes from the characters who attend. Like me they will have stiff backs and sore hands from the real workout that the conditions provided this year and like me, they probably won’t mind having missed ‘yet another Cup Final’.