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St Katherine’s 2009 Rally
Once again I put keyboard to screen with another tale of the high seas. After months of no sailing due to taking the boat out of the water Easter could not come quick enough. Even though after the last trip to St Katherine’s I stated that I would only go every couple of years. The strain got too much and I relented to temptation and agreed to go. After spending Thursday night on the boat we were up and ready to leave on time, This was a promising start as last year getting ready to go anywhere usually took longer than the voyage it’s self.
As we motored out of the harbour we were followed by Kajan, BrochetII, Rashoon and True Spirit. We wasted no time and headed straight up the Thames, and in the beginning had the benefit of a favourable wind.
We inevitably ended up under power, but it was still a nice relaxing trip, that was until we noticed BrochetII falling behind. Kajan was motoring close by, and by the time I had turned around and got to them BrochetII was under tow from Kajan.
My first reaction was obviously concern for the girl’s safety, and wondering what was wrong with their engine. However it turned out that they had run out of fuel in one of their tanks and the second tank wouldn’t connect onto the engine. This meant they were under tow until they had corrected their fuel problem.
With camera in hand I grabbed the opportunity to take a picture and take some pleasure in the knowledge that it was the girl’s under tow and not me. I should have known better, but things were going so well, to well perhaps.
And about forty minutes later I paid the price for my smugness, as we approached the Thames barrier I lost drive and the pitch of the engine changed. “B*##*@ks” was the first words that I could think of that could possibly describe the feelings of total stomach churning anguish that was pulsating through my now weakened and broken body (metaphorically speaking).
Again Kajan was close to the stricken vessel, could not get us on the first attempt. Before a second try was made True Spirit had come up bow to bow and was taking a line.
Tied up next to True Spirit we were escorted to Greenwich yacht club and there pontoon. It turned out that plastic bad had got wrapped around the prop, and with a little forward and reversing we managed to get the bag released.
I lifted up the floor of the cockpit during the bag incident to examine the prop shaft. Shock shuddered through my body, as I could feel my sanity ebbing away for the water was slapping around the prop shaft.
“F*#k” (another word I sometimes use in an effort to let just about everyone in a two mile radius know how I’m feeling) “I’m sinking now”. I spent the next 10 minutes on the bilge pump asking the Supreme Being to pick on someone else for a while
After tying up and refreshing our selves in Greenwich yacht club bar we returned to the boats for something to eat. It was during this time we slowly realised that we were being thrown around almost constantly. This was due to those Thames clippers that run a kind of river bus service.
To make things worse we were told that the bar was not opening that night! “AAAAHHHH” this trip was now looking more like another trip the bowels of hell. As it turned out it was a good evening. We all brought some drink to True Spirit and with the arrival of Pete and Chrissie we all had a great evening.
Funny how fun things are the shortest lived. With the continuous hammering the boats were receiving from the wash of the Thames Clippers it is a wonder we all still afloat the following morning. Especially me, bearing in mind the strange leak I appear to have got. Strange is that during the night no water got into the boat.
The following day we didn’t delay in leaving Greenwich and heading toward St Katherine’s. One thing I will never tire of is looking at the contrast of the boats as they slowly cruise through the river surrounded by massive buildings. I get the feeling something should not be there, but I can’t make my mind up if it’s the boats or the buildings that appear wrong.
Soon we arrived at St Katherine’s and took up moorings outside of the lock. Though this turned a bit interesting for True Spirit ho appeared to be picked on by Kajan, with only the quick thinking and even quicker leg action of John to avert disaster, or at least a bow sprit up the stern.
Once inside St Katherine’s all your troubles seem to fall away, and without doubt it is a very pretty marina. John is now adamant that he will not go to St Katherine’s again because they have put the prices up and no longer give club discounts. I actually like St Katherine’s it’s just the grief of getting there I could do without.
Saturday night we had dinner at Weatherspoons just south of Tower Bridge, and after returned to the boats feeling tired enough to go to bed early.
Sunday morning John was busy straight away. He started on my boat trying to find the leak, and after clearing the pipes to the self draining cockpit he left me to dry the bilge. He then skipped over to Brochett II and wired up there remaining wiring problems.
All too soon it was time once again to leave the shelter of St Katherine’s and run the rapids back to Erith. Getting into the lock was not much of a problem, however the boats didn’t appear to stop coming and I was beginning to get concerned about these multimillion pound boats hitting me!
Once out the tide caught us and pushed us down river at quite a speed. I knew we would be stopping at Erith, and I knew from last time how strong the current is, but it still didn’t stop us both ending up with cut fingers as we made one very bad attempt of getting the mooring buoy from the cockpit.
Earlier in St Katherine’s
Helen and Sarah were explaining to John that it’s hard sometimes just two women
on a boat. John must have felt sorry for them because they were all smiles after
John gave them his
That night we spent the evening at Erith Yacht club, thanks to the members and especially the commodore who at the end of the night took us back to our boats in their trot boat. Pete had also turned up to Erith and it was good to see him, though both Ann and myself were feeling a bit sorry for our selves and a little hurt while mooring up.
Bright and early the following morning we were up and getting ready to go. John called over to us and asked if Sarah and Helen were ready to go yet, I rang them up only to discover they were both still asleep. Finally the phone was answered by a voice that proved there’s life after death. “Morning” I greeted in a voice that was now looking forward to getting home and straight to bed. “It’s time to go”. Within minutes they were up
and ready to take on the might Thames, though they were still in their pyjamas.
Even to the day before I wrote this Helen has been trying in vain to persuade me
that their pyjama boat ride was something that was pre-planned. (Please! All you
had to do was admit the excitement of getting John’s old
From Erith to home was a nice gentle motor all the way, and though John ran aground cutting Grain spit (he blames Malcolm) we all got back to Queenborough in more or less one piece. Sarah even managed to show off their boat to some of her work colleagues.
It’s funny that we can all go to the same place, at the same time but have totally different viewpoints. To recap my trip I got a plastic bag wrapped around my prop. We had a terrible night at Greenwich being slammed against the pontoon. Ann and I both ended up with cut fingers at Erith, and to top it all I had to man the bilge pumps every one and a half hours to stop us sinking. 9The drains to the self draining cockpit wasn’t the problem).
So once again I will say St Katherine’s uses a lot of fuel and the current is no fun at all. Though I will go there again I doubt I will go there for at least a year or two. Unlike other marinas I have visited, it’s not the voyage that the fun it’s being there. The actual trip can be hazardous and stopping overnight anywhere other than a marina uncomfortable.
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Last modified: September 13, 2009 St Katherines 09
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