Flamingo’s Trip up the Thames (July 2015)

During the desperate, landlocked winter months I hatched this year’s cruising plan, we would sail to St Katharine’s Dock, right next to Tower Bridge in London. I could tell that the delivery crew of Nigel and Tony were enamoured with my plan by the way that they quietly contemplated what I had said and then asked ‘couldn’t we just go sailing’? As it turned out it wasn’t a problem for Tony who fell off Flamingo’s transom six weeks prior to our departure, badly breaking his heel and confining himself to crutches for 12 weeks. He was replaced by relative novice Mark who’s sailing experience was limited to one trip to the wind farm in 2013. He does however have an enormous beard which was sure to make up for any lack of experience.

Charts were purchased and corrected and a copy of the essential guide was printed and saved to the now ubiquitous I-pad.

Brancaster to Brightlingsea.

The trip to Brightlingsea went relatively smoothly with stops at Blakeney, Lowestoft and Levington along the way. The charted overfalls off Orford lighthouse were rather unpleasant in rising wind against tide, this exposed a loose catch on the forepeak hatch which filled the skipper’s bed with salt water (again). The Haven Ports Yacht Club at Levington provided a friendly welcome and an outstanding sirloin steak in their excellent clubhouse, formerly the Cromer light ship.

Brightlingsea to

Traversing the sand banks required careful planning and navigation but didn’t pose too many problems, but the sound of heavy artillery on the Shoeburyness firing range was rather unnerving. Now came our first big challenge which was to cross from the Maplin Sands to the mouth of the , this involved crossing the Yantlet and Medway shipping channels in quick succession through what seemed to be and endless stream of inbound and outbound traffic. The newly fitted AIS worked impeccably despite its very congested screen and we passed safely 0.17NM in front of the 161 metre RoRo ferry Celandine. We certainly wouldn’t have had the confidence to cross when we did without the AIS.

Queenborough is working hard to make itself the favoured port of departure for a Thames trip and does provide some useful facilities including three pubs, the best of which was The Old House at Home. Here we were treated to a free meal of chilli, rice and flatbreads because it was ‘Jam Night’ which featured a range of enjoyable local talent and some very friendly locals who were genuinely interested in our adventure.

Queenborough to St Katharines

The passage plan, taking full advantage of the flood tide had us planning to leave at 1000, arriving at Tower Bridge at 1800 with two hours to spare before the last lock. The first problem to be solved was to extract Flamingo from the pontoon with large Dutch cruisers moored less than a metre ahead and astern. Careful planning and the use of a bow spring allowed us to swing the stern out with some style gaining appreciative nods from both Dutch skippers (or were they just relieved at not sustaining any damage?). With the wind forecast westerly we made the most of the opportunity to sail out of the Medway as we expected to be motoring all of the way up to Tower Bridge. Once into the Thames proper the engine was started and the sails dropped as we started up towards London. Straight out of the Medway the Thames is almost four miles wide and rather rural, with fields running down to mudflats with seals and wading birds abounding, especially on the south bank. The recommended track for yachts keeps you on the Port side of the channel all the way up to Mucking Flats in order to keep small craft clear of the jetties around Canvey Island, a small yacht running

parallel to us discovered why as she was trapped between the new container port jetties and a freighter, it looked pretty frightening from where we were watching.

From the crossing point at Mucking Flats the Thames gradually narrows and becomes increasingly industrialised, especially around Tilbury docks where there was some concentration of larger commercial traffic, all easily avoided with a careful lookout and keeping to the edge of the channel. Looking down from the QE2 Bridge at Dartford the river looks daunting, approaching by boat dispelled this view as navigation continued to be relatively routine. From Dartford the experience gradually intensifies as the banks become more densely populated, now with residential as well as industrial buildings and the planes descending towards City Airport. As required we called London VTS from Creekmouth to seek permission to transit the Thames Barrier and were allocated span foxtrot. Before the barrier though comes the first real challenge of passing between the Woolwich Ferry terminals which protrude well out into the already narrowing river. The turbulence caused by the terminals and the docked ferries was enough to deflect our course significantly. The chances of making a mistake as you approach the Thames Barrier are small as the appropriate span is indicated by huge green arrows, with care we managed to squeeze Flamingo through the 61m wide span. From here on it all happens very quickly, the man-made embankments close in, reflecting the waves from the increasing number of trip boats and the tugs removing the Capital’s refuse. As the skyscrapers around Canary Wharf grow larger and the landmarks become more familiar we began to appreciate that we were now sailing in London. Past the O2 Dome and then Greenwich itself with the Cutty Sark and the Royal Naval College had us checking that the ensign was flying nicely and that the BSSC and PSSA burgees had pride of place. One of my biggest worries building up to the trip was navigating amongst the passenger trip boats, and especially the clipper fast catamarans but they were all piloted with utter professionalism, often giving us a toot to let us know that they were leaving a pontoon. Around the next bend Canary Wharf dominates the skyline and the banks are lined with converted wharves and new residential developments in the style of wharves or cruise ships.

As the river straightens at Wapping we got our first proper look at Tower Bridge with the Shard rising beyond it, and the Prospect of Whitby pub, our ultimate destination. The tension gradually ratcheted up as we arrived outside St Kat’s lock (at 1557, three minutes ahead of the passage plan) where the Clippers, trip boats and half a dozen RIBs all embark and disembark their passengers. There was severe interference of the VHF which made communication with the Harbour Master very difficult, but it was clear that we would have to wait some time for the lock to open. Waiting with us was a Moody from the Blackwater and Ardwina a traditional Thames barge. The Moody took one of the waiting buoys which banged alarmingly against her topsides while Ardwina motored serenely against the tide mid river. We motored around in circles for 40 minutes not willing to run the risk of damage against the waiting buoys, occasionally passing messages to the crew of the Moody who clearly had no contact with the HM. With hindsight it feels that it was a demanding but exciting experience, the look on my face in the many photographs however suggest otherwise.

By the time the lock opened the plan had become clear, Ardwina would go into the lock first on the ‘wall’ side and the yachts would go alongside her on the pontoon, this suited us fine, especially as it was our first ever time in a lock. Unfortunately the crew of the Moody had another plan and as the gates began to open they accelerated to ramming speed and steered straight at us amidships, we managed to avoid a collision, just. Locking in couldn’t have been more simple and there was even time to complete the formalities and paperwork in the ‘Captainerie’ as the water level in the lock rose.

By 1945 we were tied up in the ‘nice spot’ allocated to us, corks were popped and much to the annoyance of one member of the crew the celebratory squid was hoisted. Various family members had arrived to greet us and necessary crew showers in the luxury facilities were followed by a trip to a local (i.e. next to the Tower of London) restaurant where we ate a barbecued pig, and most of a cow. We woke in the morning in central London; we ate breakfast in Flamingo’s cockpit and reflected on our achievement. No single part of it had been desperately challenging but there was no doubt that the many hours of planning had smoothed our passage. The only difficulty that remained on this leg of the trip was keying my PIN into the Harbour office’s card reader six days later; I had thought that I was renting a space on the pontoon, not buying it. We did note though that many of the boats in London are rather larger than the ones in Norfolk and I imagine their bill dwarfed mine.

Was it worth it? Definitely. Would we do it again? Definitely, but not for a couple of years. For one week of our summer cruise Flamingo became a floating caravan and while it was great to spend time in London, we couldn’t help but feel that we were back in our, and Flamingo’s proper environment once we were anchored back in Stangate Creek, off the Medway.

A final note. I fell into conversation with a chap at Snape Maltings during the return trip. He was familiar with Parkers having sailed 505s for them in the 1970s and described the 275 as ‘the posh one’. We parted having swapped stories of boats and sailing, his final comment to me was “let me get this straight, you’ve got a Parker 275? You’ve got it sorted mate”. Agreed.