Day Six, Tuesday 14th June

Great Yarmouth 14/6

7am: 12c WD 245deg WS 9kt VIS 19km RAIN 0%

1pm: 14c WD 202deg WS 11kt VIS 10km RAIN 0%

By 04:30 we are up, and by 05:05,  Jon is in the dinghy and rowing up past the pub and towards Norwich.

It’s only 05:40 when Jon rings to say that he’s at the bridge and is heading back.  Limit number seven has been reached, even if not in the best style.  David and I get everything ready so that we can get away quickly on Jon’s return.  He is slower coming back, as the tide has yet to turn, but by 06:45, more or less on the turn of the tide, we are under way.

Progress is at first fairly slow, and once again as we cut through Surlingham Broad we have to resort to the quant as we go down the dyke.

Once on the broad, we drift slowly across, enjoying the early morning tranquillity and admiring a pair of herons in the trees on the southern bank.

The exit dyke can be managed under sail as the wind is almost behind us.

So it’s on down the Yare in the freshening wind, which is now south west. Once again we pass Rockland Broad, and the Beauchamp Arms. Again, with the brisk southerly breeze we have no problems passing the factory at Cantley, and by 10:00 we are at the mouth of the river Chet.

The Chet is a narrow river, but the first half mile or so wiggles around so that, with careful manoeuvring, we are able to tack round the bends. From here on the way is much straighter and heading south west, straight in to the wind. The river is too narrow to tack, so we drop the sails and the quant pole is brought out.  The fresh wind is such that progress with the quant is almost impossible. We are constantly blown back and off track into the bank. If we are going to reach Loddon, the only option is to tow.

Thus begin the longest and hardest few hours of the whole trip. Robin and Jon take turns at trudging down the bank pulling this 27 foot yacht by hand. Initially we follow the west bank, without too much difficulty other than the occasional need to resort to the quant to get past a tree which would snarl the tow rope. Dragging the boat into such a head wind is backbreaking work. After the first mile or so the bank is more obstructed and we cross to the east side. Here bank refurbishment works are in progress and there are no obstructions other than very small isolated trees. The problem is that the bank has just been rebuilt with large earth movers and is very soft. We often sink in knee deep.

We finally arrive in Loddon at 12:55. It has taken us almost exactly three hours to cover little more than three miles. We are relieved and exhausted. This, our eighth limit, has been by far the most difficult we have reached.  We moor up and walk in to the town.

After such superhuman effort, the first requirement is a pint. Fortunately the path to the village runs straight to the Kings Head. We hesitate for much less than a millisecond and dive in. The first pint hardly touches the sides and another follows. Thoughts now turn to food. Unfortunately there is no food on at the pub, so on the barmaid’s recommendation we head up the road to the butcher for meat pies. Our expectations, which have been raised by the enthusiastic recommendation, are exceeded, and we sit on the bench just outside the churchyard to enjoy the superb steak and kidney.

Wit the leisurely lunch it is almost three by the time we depart, but this is not a worry. We cannot pass through Yarmouth tonight, as there will not be enough daylight at slack water.  The plan is to go down as far as the Berney Arms, just before Breydon Water.  As we leave under sail, a motor cruiser comes up behind us. There is no room to pass and the crew are looking very frustrated. They needn’t because as soon as we round the bend and clear the trees, we pick up the breeze and leave them far behind. It takes less than an hour to cover what had needed three in the other direction and soon we are passing Reedham Ferry. Jon and I recall the fine meal we had at the pub there on our last trip, but today we head on.

As we round the last bend into Reedham itself we see that the bridge is closed, so we sail back and forth across the river up by the boatyard whilst we wait for it to open. We hope that the bridge operator realises that we are waiting. After three or four trips across, we pass close to a moored seagoing yacht with the owner aboard. He offers to call the bridge on his VHF radio and find out what is happening. We are relieved to learn that we have been seen, that there are two trains expected and the bridge should open in 15 minutes.  Sure enough, just after the second train, it begins to move. The wind by now is slightly east of south and still fresh.  We approach on a fine reach and despite the adverse tide, and the blanketing effect of the bridge structure, just squeeze through without the need to tack.

After Reedham the river is wide and the banks are reed. There are no trees to blanket the wind and we are set for a good brisk sail. Because we are stopping at Berney Arms and do not have to be timing everything for Yarmouth, we are not on the usual rapidly falling tide and the banks are not ominously growing expanses of mud.  It makes for wonderful sailing.

All too soon we are at Berney Arms and it’s time to moor up.

Berney Arms is a strange place. The Berney Arms pub sits by the river and normal access is by boat. There is no road, so if you don’t have a boat and don’t fancy a long walk, the only other option is the train. There is a railway station. Even then it’s not straightforward. The pub is a walk across two fields by an ill-defined cowpat strewn footpath. That’s all very well, but on the way back there are no lights to indicate the whereabouts of the station.  There are also no late night trains.

Before we head for the pub we have a walk up to admire the restored windmill, managed by English Heritage, and then cook and eat our meal:  superb steaks from the butcher in Loddon.  Whilst preparing our meal we enjoy much hilarity watching some lads in a motor cruiser who have moored up with very short warps and are now hanging from them in the falling tide. Eventually they have to resort to cutting them.  We also enjoy conversation with several of the other boat crews.  With hunger well satisfied, we adjourn to the pub and relax over a few pints. On leaving the pub, whilst the others go to bed I enjoy a walk along the banks of Breydon Water in the gathering gloom before I too turn in.