Yesterday I set off from Wolverstone on the Orwell after having a chat and a coffee with a chap called Clive who rafted up along side Kudu. The destination was the river Deben, the entrance of which is only about 5 miles up the coast from the mouth of Harwich habour.
The forecast was predicting near gales to arrive in the afternoon, but I planned to arrive before they did since the notorious Deben bar, the sandbank at the entrance to the river, is not something to contend with in rough weather. I said goodbye to Clive and cast off from the buoy under engine, making a quick beeline across the channel to avoid an approaching ship. I kept the engine on until the ship had overtaken Kudu, and then unfurled the genoa and put the main up with two reefs.
The sail out of the Orwell was fantastic, and even though the air was filled with occasional surges of rain, I was wrapped up warm and waterproof, so I didn’t care. It was good to be heading back out to sea on Kudu again.
Sailing out of the harbour was uneventful, although I did have the engine ticking over in neutral, just incase I needed it quickly. Kudu isn’t like a larger boat where you can just reach for the key and start the engine. I have to lash the tiller or risk Sinbad’s fickle navigation, then climb over the pushpit (the rails on the back of the boat) to fiddle with the choke on the outboard before pulling on the chord a few times to start it. That’s all very well and good, but not if you’re trying to get out of something’s way quickly. Fortunately, the engine was never required so as soon as I cleared the harbour wall I switched it off, sailing close hauled towards the next port hand marker buoy.
A few buoys down the channel, to be careful that I avoided the perils of the unsuspecting corner cutter of the harbour entrance, I turned Kudu downwind, to cross the shipping channel at right angles under goose winged sails. Once across the channel and safe from any ships, I put sinbad the tiller pilot in charge while I went forward to rig up a gybe preventer. This is a make shift system of rope attached to the boom which, if the boat turns to far the wrong way whilst sailing down wind, can cause a gybe.
Because the mainsail and boom are sheeted out so far, this is not only violent, but dangerous for both the boat and me. I think Sinbad has fallen out with me, because as I was busy setting this up, a wave knocked us off course and Sinbad couldn’t (or wouldn’t I’m beginning to suspect!) keep the boat on course quickly enough, so, as I feared, we gybed and for a moment the boat was out of control. I was halfway through knotting things so it took me a moment to untangle myself from the ropes and dive for the tiller. The wind and sea where starting to really build up by this point so not willing to risk another crash gybe, I dropped the mainsail, and continued under genoa furled to jib size alone.
I got the camera out and did a bit of filming, but it was getting splashed and the boat was being quite a handful so I eventually put it away again. The sea by now was displaying some big waves, from the troughs they easily towered above Kudu’s wind turbine. I wasn’t worried though, with Sinbad aside and me on the helm, the boat was totally under control and I was enjoying myself.
A couple of miles further up the shore, things started getting nervy. There was a constant 26knots of wind on our back, often gusting to 28 or 29 knots, and Kudu was charging downwind at between 4 and 5 knots over ground. This puts the true wind speed over 30knots. The forecast winds had arrived slightly sooner than expected, and the sea was not impressed.
Galloping downwind, surfing down waves that appeared to be almost the height of the spreaders on Kudu’s mast (although I’m sure they weren’t) I started to get worried. The seas were breaking around me, and while the boat was perfectly under control, and it’s skipper calm and indeed having fun, I was all too aware that the sea was only going to get more aggressive as I got to the Deben bar, were the seabed shoals and the waves get taller and steeper. To get into the Deben I would have to take these seas beam on, that’s with the boat traveling sideways to the waves.
On a broad reach I got to the outer marker buoy, then clipped on to the pushpit and climbed out over the back of the boat to start the engine which had been constantly awash in sea water as breaking waves flooded over the back of the boat. After five pulls I had a moment of worry, but it fired up on the sixth, and I returned to the cockpit to direct Kudu, now motor sailing under reefed genoa and quarter revs on the Suzuki behind, towards the port hand marker buoy for the constantly changing channel that guards the entrance to the river.
29 knots across the beam, and with a breaking sea to match, I started to wonder if I might be getting a bit scared, but the sight of the waves crashing over the sandbank just meters away left little time to ponder about such things. Me and Kudu galloped towards the relative refuge of the river, with occasional waves throwing us upwards and sideways as they broke over us. I was soaked. On the way in there were about three big waves that threw Kudu right on her side. I was fighting on the tiller to keep us both on course in the narrow channel, and as best poised to take on the waves as best I could, but these big white waves made me wonder, just for a moment, if I could keep control of my little boat.
As I turned to starboard just after the green starboard channel buoy, and entered the shelter of Felixstowe ferry, I started shivering. Now, I will stick to my guns on this; it was because I was cold and wet, but some people might suggest that now I was safe, the fear of that little entrance could let itself out. :p
Maybe you should sail off the wind a little bit you nutter! I really want to book a sailing jolly this year in the Solent to do a 5 day competant crew course, but have no idea which company to go with, have you got any recommendations/heard of some good ones?
Yo Robbo,
Not had much experience of them daan on the south coast. I went out with moonfleet once and that was a jolly good experience. It was on a Bavaria, but I can’t complain as it handled St Albans head quite well. Depending on the tide, you’ll either go to IoW, or Weymouth. Don’t go with one of the massive companies since it’ll be hit and miss as to the quality of it I reckon. I’ll make some enquiries and let you know.
P.S. Just in a pub uploading part 7. You’re going to like this one! haha.