”It dawned on me that, had we not won the award and delayed our departure, we would have been on the water during the hurricane.”
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We had a lovely evening at Cruising Association House in Docklands. Although we have been members for a year or so, it’s the first time we have been to an event in person. In fact, it may have been the first physical, non-Zoom event there since Covid-19 rules have been relaxed? It’s really wonderful to be able to meet real people in person once again, as opposed to via the ethereal IT cloud.
Because we live outside the M25 now – a vague region that an ex-City work-colleague defines as ‘Up North’, irrespective of the point of the compass – we always try to make a day of it on any trip up ‘to the smoke’. This time we stayed over in The Royal Foundation of St Katharine. This hotel-cum-reflection centre is an oasis of calm in east London. It is not far off Commercial Road, which we approached on the no.15 double-decker bus. Upstairs of course, as we were being touristy. We passed large protests by tenants raging against the ‘bad’ landlords of some Tower Hamlets housing association. The area felt deprived. We felt blessed that we were not in their predicament, especially with the deepening cost of living crisis.
St Katherine’s is one of the oldest religious charities in the country. It was founded by Queen Matilda (wife of King Stephen) as a hospital for the poor. It was originally just outside the walls of the Tower of London. It has survived many crises over 900 years, always with the queen’s or dowager’s patronage. Ann Boleyn was not a patron simply because Catherine of Aragon retained the post after her divorce from Henry VIII. Apart from the plague and the great fire, the foundation has survived: the reformation and the dissolution of the monasteries; puritanism; jealousy because of its royal-given freedoms; and the later anti-Catholic mobs of the Gordon Riots.
The foundation remained just outside the Tower until the construction of St. Katharine Docks in 1825. The dock company wanted to expand the basin, and it pushed an Act of Parliament to evict about 3,000 people from the area. There was a huge protest and the act was not passed. But, as is often the case, a further act the next year was passed. Most of the residents had to move out of the area, most of them uncompensated. The Foundation moved to a site at Regents Park, but after 123 years, Queen Mary (King Edward VIII’s mother) moved it back to East London in 1948. The location was the site of the bombed James Ratcliffe Church, annihilated by the Luftwaffe during the Second World War. The general public, such as ourselves, have been able to use the facilities since 2011.
We strolled in the early evening from the retreat eastwards towards Limehouse Basin and to CA House. The basin is another ex-naval dock, but is now simply a home for small pleasure yachts and narrow boats. All the old Thames docks have been superseded by the container port at Tilbury, which can cater for much larger ships. The area seems now quite gentrified. It is certainly different from the 16th century. This enclave of seafarers was described by John Stow as “a continual street, or filthy strait passage, with alleys of small tenements or cottages, built and inhabited by sailors’ victuallers, along the river Thames, almost to Radcliff, a good mile from the Tower”.
Now there are many smart looking apartments, and a Gordon Ramsay restaurant – The Narrow – beside lock out to the Thames. The massive outline of the original Thames lock is still visible, but has been infilled and severely reduced in size so as not to waste time and water for the smaller cruisers. The basin also has lock access onto the Regents canal.
The awards ceremony followed a fascinating talk by legendary yacht designer Rob Humphreys. Rob presented Alix with the Lacey Trophy for ‘The Adventures of Missy Bear’ - the best member’s blog or website covering cruising in the year 2021. The judge was sailing instructor and voice-over artist Duncan Wells, who does have an amazing voice. He commented, “Their adventures were well written, I really liked the photos, the detail and the historical information... Even more I liked the fact that it told me at the top of every piece how long it would take in terms of reading time”.
Perhaps the latter being a back-handed complement! The trophy was the smallest on offer – it could have held a duck’s egg. But it’s not the size that’s important, is it? [Alix: hmmm…] Although we couldn’t take the trophy home, we got a lovely, engraved crystal glass and another certificate to hang in the downstairs loo.
Rob has been designing yachts since the early 1970s. I got the impression he didn’t get on too well at school, but that he was gifted as a designer, armed with a pencil and paper. He gained his knowledge and expertise through years of hands-on experience and learning from mistakes. He started off designing small (‘half-ton’) race boats, but has worked for prestigious cruiser yards such as Elan and Oyster yachts. Although Rob admitted he was probably due to retire, he seems to continue to love his work with his son Tom, a partner and naval architect. It’s all computer-aided design (CAD) these days, with scale-model testing in wind tunnels and wave machines. But when I spoke to Rob briefly afterwards, he admitted that any new design commences with the good old pencil and paper. Which is nice.
The company has moved into designing power boats and large, complex and bespoke expedition boats. One of the most interesting projects is working with the large container shipping companies to see if the use of sail power can reduce their oil consumption – about 6% of greenhouse gas emissions comes from shipping. The companies are a bit slow to change, and are worried that their skeleton (and low paid?) crews are not up to dealing with sails. Any solution will have to be push-button automatic and fool-proof. I would have thought that, with so much fuel savings, the owners could have afforded to hire a few more trained staff?
Anyway, two days later saw us heading to Gatwick, with Sari and Thorne, to burn some more fossil fuel this time in an Easy Jet bound for Preveza. As we took-off we could see the city and Canary Wharf in the distance. The flight was uneventful, but I think either old age or Covid isolation has made me a less tolerant person: the child leaving his parents to come and sit in front of us and play videos without his headphone in; the man across the aisle with the huge nose constantly sniffling noisily; or to discover that the previous occupant of my seat had deposited their old chewing gum in the seat-back pocket.
We flew down the Adriatic coast and descended past a cloudy Cyprus, over ancient Nicopolis near the Ambracian Gulf, and glimpsed the snow-tipped mountains of the Pindus range. This part of Greece has experienced its coldest winter in 40 years and Kyriakos (who owns the apartments where are staying until we have re-rigged and prepared ‘Missy Bear’) has been skiing nearby most weekends!
As it was our first overwinter, Alix and I were both a bit anxious to see how the yacht had fared after four-months sat on props in a Greek field. We knew that there had been some very strong winds, and a hurricane (yes, Force 11 winds) had blown through Preveza only two-days prior to re-launch. Catamarans had broken free of their mooring and been blown into concrete quays or onto the wooden bow-sprint of a German yacht, causing much damage. It dawned on me that, had we not won the award and delayed our departure, we would have been on the water during the hurricane. Yikes!
In fact, it was still breezy and sloppy when the blue hoist lowered Missy Bear into the water at Cleopatra Marina. We clambered aboard and made sure the engine and bow thrusters worked. And that there was no water coming in! The three staff helped walk the boat down the leeward side of the quay, where I expected they would tie us up so that Alix and I could prepare for our short motor across the mouth of the bay to Preveza Marina. But, no. They all simultaneously cast the lines onto the boat, shouted “more power!” to me and waved us off into the chop.
As I write, we are now safely tied up in the marina and we have re-rigged the boat for the first time. All the ropes are in place and the sails are hoisted and furled. Thanks to Thorne for his help.
We are feeling quite satisfied and ready for our first trip of the season on Thursday. I just need to sort out paying the cruising tax, and to get Missy Bear officially out of bondage at the Customs Office by retrieving our Greek Transit Log.
This Greek sailing lark is not all rest and relaxation. [Alix: you can say that again!]
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