Ever Wonder Why We Do It? by Mike Peyton

Author:Mike Peyton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
ISBN: 9781472901248
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2019-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

‘John, would you go to Channel 72? I want to ask you something.’

There are many misnomers in sailing. Safe at anchor is one of them. Richard and myself had anchored Touchstone in the Upper Gull in the River Ore. We had foregone the delights of Aldeburgh, beer, and fish and chips, for the more aesthetic appeal of the fluting of the seabirds at the south end of the Gull. We had gone there for comfort and a more sheltered anchorage, with a forecast of Force 5–6s from the south-west.

We were as close as we dared to Havergate Island and, having done our sums to leave 1m of water under us at low water, we let go the anchor. Though windy, it was a warm July night, and sitting in the cockpit as dusk fell we were in a world that was pure Maurice Griffiths, except that our drinks were neither Oxo nor cocoa. A darkening world of wind and water. As befits such a world, the only other boat in the anchorage was a Thames sailing barge, wind rode against the ebb.

To the north-east we could see the regular flash of the Orfordness light and the no-man’s land of mudbanks, between the dark tide and the saltings, literally covered with Canada geese. We seemed to be along way from anywhere.

We finished our drinks, put up the riding light and turned in, East Coast yotties content with their lot.

My wife has often told a slightly derogatory story about me and how, when the house was struck by lightning and the television set went up in flames, I slept through it all, yet – this is the punch line: `Strike a match on the boat and he’s up like a jack-in-the-box.’

I never say anything when this story is trotted out for, as many other yachtsmen can vouch, it’s true that a skipper seems to get hyper-sensitive on board – although, in my case at least, only on my own boat. Unfortunately, the bell does not ring every time.

I awoke for what reason I know not. From the clock I could see it was 0400, about high water. I could see the glow of the riding light through the forehatch. It was quiet, except for the wind, which was still blowing, and all seemed well, but from past experience I knew I had to get up. As I went through the hatch I knew immediately what had happened. The wind had gone round and we were no longer laid off the shore, but lying stern in with the boat out at an angle. I tried the rudder. No movement. I switched on the echo sounder. The transducer is just forward of the mast and it gave 3m.

I was wide awake now. I pressed the starter button and `Perkins’ sprang into life. Within seconds Richard was coming through the hatch. He took the situation in at a glance and without a word went forward and started hauling – winching was too slow – to take the slack on the anchor chain.

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