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| THAMES -sunrise across the Blackwater 50x50 cm oil on wooden panel |
The first journey had come round so quickly after the initial enquiry which came out of a chance result of google search for Thames sailing barges. I had always loved the Thames barges and their
brick
red sails. To me they are part of the mystery and legend of the Thames
estuary, the earthy coloured waters, mists and salt marshes. A land of
the hulks and Great Expectations.
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| The peaceful picturesque River Blackwater |
Waving
good bye to my wife and our cheeky dog Hector at Troon station I boarded the train to Glasgow to pick up my overnight bus to London, I was ready, if not a
little hesitant for the first adventure, but excited to get started. A journey that would take me
from my home of nearly seven years in the West Scotland to a small
picturesque corner of the East coast of England. It would take me to
early afternoon the following day to get to Maldon
the home of the Thistle, the only Thames barge built in Scotland some
120 years ago. A fine warm day greeted me, the Thistle moored within
a huddle of barges and small commercial boats.
The
barge is owned by local Maldon business Topsail Charters since 1987
and its to their credit that the Thistle doesn't feel or look her
120 years on the water.
These ships were designed to handled by
only two people. The crew for the journey to Ipswich were ex BBC
man and journalist Rob, the Thistle's skipper who now spends his
life sailing. Reassuringly calm and naturally at ease on the water. His mate, Lyndon 21 going on 40, a part-time freelance photographer and regular member of the Thistle crew who has sailed the local waters of the Thames
estuary since he was 11. I knew I was in good hands.
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| On board on the Thistle moored at Maldon |
After
a day of press photos, a hearty supper and a relaxed pint at the
Queens Head pub it was bed early to catch the 4.30 am tide.
Waking
at 4am Rob and Lyndon already hard at preparing for departure, going
on deck a cold , dark, heavy fog greeted me. A faint hazy light hung
on the horizon as we cast off and slowly chugged up the estuary. Rob
in the wheel house and Lyndon strategically positioned at the bow as look out
for the marker buoys that would safely leads us out of the estuary. A confident shout from Lyndon "Red Buoy starboard three barges length" we headed out on the sailing
channel almost on as much by “feel” and “instinct” as by the
marker buoys leading us out towards the sea.
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| An atmospheric morning in the fog |
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| Sunrise on the Thistle |
The
fog laying heavy around us it was decided that we would anchor up for
an hour and have breakfast and wait for the sun to come up. As the
sun rose in the sky the fog and slowly lifted to reveal an beautiful
clear sky.
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| Skipper Rob at the Wheel |
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| A fine day out at sea |
As we headed out to sea a number of boats and platforms
would reveal themselves from the haze including our relatively close
encounter with the Radio Caroline ship the Ross Revenge an enormous
trawler who found a new life as a pirate radio station in 1983.
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| The Ross Revenge ex Trawler and home to the pirate Radio station Caroline |
Leaving
the River Blackwater we motored up the coast past Clacton and
Frinton-on-Sea towards the port of Harwich. As we headed past
Walton-on-the-Naze pier I was asked to take the wheel as Rob headed
down to the gallery to make a cuppa. Feeling the weight of the
Thistle in my hands I steered, if not a little nervously along the
coast. With no point to steer to other than on the SatNav and more importantly I was told by looking ahead I realised
that “following the coast” is not as easy as it sounds. Keep a
straight line became a zigzag course which would have made a World
War 2 merchant ship avoiding U-boats proud.
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| Looking out to Frinton and Walton-on-the-Naze |
As we
started to see the cranes of Harwich port on the horizon, Rob felt
there was enough wind to raise the sail. Everything on a Thistle is a
sturdy and reassuring, which means "heavy" and maybe twice as heavy
when your not experienced and know the techniques to use your body
weight to its best advantage. One by one the individual sails took
the wind and the regular chug chug of the diesel engine was replaced
by the almost silent way we started to slip through the water.
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| Lyndon hard at work raising sail on the Thistle. |
As we reached
the mouth of the estuary at Harwich you couldn't notice to feel the change in
scale. Modern container shipping is on such a large scale that it
can't help but dwarf even a substantial vessel as the Victorian Thistle.
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| The giant cranes at Harwich port |
Slowly
but surely heading up the River Orwell towards Ipswich Port our
destination. The entrance to the port is by the Prince Philip lock
which was separates the marina from the open river.
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| Reaching Ipswich Port |
Reaching the key
side some 10 hours after we set up a little drained, but elated the
first sea journey was completed.
Bags
packed I left my companions who showed me so much kindness and headed
off into Ipswich to catch my bus back into London. Arriving back at
Victoria I was confronted by a chaotic 2 wheeled demonstration and
struggled across the road into the terminal to greeted by the noise
and crowds of a Friday night. With an hour to wait and with sea air
replaced with that of diesel fumes, DELAYED popped up on the screen. My
seated neighbour looked up smiled and said "don't worry it happens
every week."
A
restless uncomfortable night I awoke from my drowsiness to a wet and
dark M74 , within the next couple of hours I would be back on the
West coast and my own bed, drained, weary, but still buzzing from a great if only small adventure of the Shipping Forecast.
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| Early Saturday morning on the M74 back in Scotland |
REMEMBER you can give to Macmillan Cancer Support through my Just Giving Page for the Shipping Forecast Project at : https://www.justgiving.com/shipping-forecast
