A Little Learning

20/09/2007 / Bill / 1 Comment

I woke up in the middle of the night in a hot sweat, convinced that we’d fouled the forward warp and Blue Mistress had swung with the tide, hard against the boat in front of us. Somehow every boat in the area had sprouted a deckload of people – all laughing at us. The fact that I was lying in my own bed, thirty miles from the boat made it no less real.

The problem for the following day was that there would be a particularly high spring tide and my single crewman – (my son), was going to arrive at about half ebb when the weight of tide against the stern would be at its strongest. We could wait for it to ease, but then we would lose precious sailing time. (This is the lot of the weekend sailor).

Blue Mistress is moored fore and aft, with doubled warps, on a line of trots. Mooring this way is secure and safe, but getting on and off it requires some concentration. Like the boats around us, we are moored facing downstream – into the flood tide, and the technique for leaving the mooring depends on whether the tide is ebbing or flowing.

Normally, we have little problem, but this time the speed of the tide was worrying me – and I like to get it right. Get it wrong, and we contact the boat in front and, maybe, others. At best, this would be untidy; at worst, expensive.

The plan was to let go both the aft warps before we start, replacing them with a longer, light, slippable warp; and to let go one of the forward warps, while holding the bow close to the forward buoy with the other, able to let it go at a moment’s notice.

By gently slipping the light stern warp, and easing the tiller to starboard, the stern should turn out into the main stream. Once well clear of our neighbour, a nudge astern on the throttle should pull us into the main fairway. As we move away, the bow warp is dropped and the stern warp slipped. When clear, we go ahead.

Sounds easy enough. However, too much stern throttle combined with too much rudder will bring the boat side onto the stream, causing it to slew round rapidly to face upstream. This is manageable when the stream is fairly slack, (I’ve done it before), but with a strong tidal stream, there would be a danger of being carried too close to the other boats in the few seconds between going astern and ahead. Hence my bad dream.

In the event, we were helped by a light but steady wind pushing us in the right direction. I put the engine slow astern to hold her in the current, we rearranged the warps, and I let the stern warp slowly bring the stern out. At this point, I was still worrying about slewing round because the current was obviously strong, leaving a marked ‘wash’ around the nearby buoys.

Then I noticed that something else was happening.

There was none of the expected tight pull on the stern warp. We were held in the current by the engine and the lightest of touches on the tiller was moving her gently sideways.

Pete let go of the forward warp and I slipped the stern warp, and, free now, still slipping slowly sideways – 20, 30, 40 seconds – still level with the mooring, Blue Mistress was steady and easily controllable.

Two men, on 25 foot or so of deck, with the ebb tide flowing past, could have been on dry land for the stability and strength they felt beneath their feet. Here was a fine hull shape, working as it was designed to do in wind and water, making the helmsman’s life easy.

Once clear of the other boats, the engine now firmly ahead, we shot down the line of boats towards the sea. And the moment had gone.

The young man said, “See, I told you you worry too much. It was easy.”

The older man (in that way older men have) said, “Yes, but you’ve got to do it right. Be prepared for things to go wrong and mostly they won’t but sometimes they will, but you’ve got it sorted.”

Inside he was thinking, “Yesss – this is why I like this boat. She may not be as light and fast as many of the newer racing-cruisers, but she rewards you with moments of sheer, seamanlike pleasure – and these are the moments I go to sea for.”

Crossing the Bar

15/05/200722/06/2007 / Bill / 1 Comment

My aunt has given me a sheaf of articles, and newspaper clippings about the ketch ‘Ceres’, which, as I have mentioned before, was in our family for 73 of her 125 years active service.

Many of these articles were copied over the years from issues of Sea Breezes, which started life in 1919 as the house magazine of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company. The subtitle changed later to “The Ship-Lovers’ Magazine’. It ceased publication in October 1939 only to restart in 1946.

I had thought I would stop posting blogs on ‘Ceres’ but I am finding that publishing them as individual pieces from different sources gives a colourful history and allows the reader a personal insight that is sometimes lost in a formally-presented, official ‘history’. This is partly because the ‘facts’ sometimes differ from article to article.

Talking of ‘colourful’, I hope you enjoy the following. I curled up with embarrassment when I first read it, then laughed out loud for the sheer joy of it.

Crossing the Bar

By C.L.Lilbourn, Newport, Mon.

Editor’s Note:- The June issue gave (on page 90) a wonderful picture of the ketch Ceres crossing the Bar at Bude, Cornwall; more of her history was promised and this is contained in the following article:-

The ketch Ceres, of Bude, Cornwall, has been crossing Bude Bar for over 200 years in practically all weathers. Owing to sunken rocks the channel is very narrow, and the Ceres has been kept close enough to the Chapel Rock, seen in the photo, to knock the shell fish off without damaging the rock or the Ceres. Some steering, I guess, but Captain Walter Petherick is at the helm and nothing is impossible to this 24-carat sailor, who has been master of the Ceres for 46 years. He is now nearly 80 years of age, as upright as a lifeguardsman, with a good head of hair as strong as rope yarns. He is one of the best known and most respected coasting captains living today. He has made thousands of passages up and down the Bristol Channel, and if all the lights in the lighthouses and lightships were extinguished, and their fog signals silenced, he could probably make a passage in the Ceres from Newport to Bude in a dense fog, by the use of the lead and the assistance of the different herds of cattle along the coast bellowing.

Call everything “he” except the tomcat.

For instance, if he heard a cow bellowing in a soprano voice he could say to his mate, “Ben, us be off Minehead; that is Farmer G’s cow a-bellowing: can’t you hear he (Cornish sailors call everything ‘he’ except the Tomcat, and they call ‘he’ ‘she’)? Drop the lead over the side and see what water us have got.” Ben would retort so many fathoms and hard sand. The captain would say, “Yes, I knew us was off Minehead.” Some hours later another cow would bellow in a contralto voice. The Captain would know it was Farmer T’s at the Foreland. Some hours later they would hear a bull roaring in a bass baritone voice, the Captain would know they were off Bull Point. The last cow would be heard at Hartland Point, where they would get their departure. When they arrived in Bude Bay they would have to wait for the fog to clear before they could cross the Bar.

I wonder what my great grandfather – (he of the ‘hair as strong as rope yarns’), thought of this!

This is the Boys Own writing of the time, of course, and maybe a little embellishment for the reader was considered worthy.

I must admit, the more I find out about him, the more fond I grow of Captain Walter Petherick; and I can’t help feeling he had earned the right to a short piece about him without the need for any superlatives.

I will post the remainder of the articles and clippings over the next few months.

This is one of a number of posts on the Ketch “Ceres”. They have been presented in a random order as and when I have found, or been given, new material. They represent steps in a personal quest to find out more about one branch of my family.

If you are interested in maritime history or would like to read more, please use the Search facility at the top right hand side of this page (‘Ceres’). If this is not available on your current screen, then click on ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’ – (or the title of this entry, then ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’), to be taken to the correct page.

“Ceres”

15/04/200722/06/2007 / Bill / 2 Comments

The “Ceres”: A Wonderful Record.

(An extract from an article in the journal ‘Sea Breezes’ – published in 1928)

“The following information concerning the 117 year old Ketch “Ceres” has been kindly given to us by Capt W.W.Petherick, her owner, and he has consented to our using this in writing her history in ‘Sea Breezes’.

There seems to be no doubt that the “Ceres” is the oldest sailing vessel still in active service and that, after 117 years of strenuous work, she is still in perfect condition, and good for many more years, speaks equally well for her builder and owner.

“Ceres” was built in Salcombe in 1811, where she belonged until 1830, and while owned there several times crossed the Bay of Biscay to Spain for cargoes of fruit, nuts etc, and in these days was considered to be the fastest vessel in the three Channels. She was then Smack-rigged and registered 34 tons, burthen 54 tons.

She first came to Bude where she is now owned in 1826 with a cargo of timber from Plymouth and was first owned in Bude by Captain Knowles, who, in 1830, brought in and discharged at Bude 20 cargoes of coal from Wales. In 1842, Captain W.Lewis purchased her and still traded to Bude.

In 1852, she was purchased by Captain Petherick’s father and has been owned by the family ever since. In 1866, Captain W.W.Petherick took over the command of the little vessel and found that she wanted dry docking for repairs. While in dry dock, Capt Petherick was persuaded to have her lengthened, which he did. Fifteen feet was put in her amidships. When completed she was Ketch-rigged, registered 52 tons and carried 85 tons.

Captain Petherick then took her in the General Coasting Trade. She carried many cargoes of barley for the whisky distilleries from Cornwall to the Western Islands of Scotland, Campbeltown, Ardrossan, Troon, Ayr and visited near every port in Ireland from Londonderry in the north to “south about” to Limerick in the west. From there it was generally oats to the English Channel ports, the Channel Islands, London, Maldon, Ipswich etc.

As to the seaworthiness on the latter vessel, I can do no better than quote Capt Petherick’s own words. He says “I have weathered out many storms and hurricanes in her and she was always all there. Everyone who went in her considered her to be one of the best sea boats afloat.”

In 1884, Capt Petherick left sea to take over his father’s business and he was succeeded in command of the “Ceres” by his brother, Capt R.W.Petherick, who is her skipper today, having been in her over 50 years.

On the 7th November 1900, she was caught in Bude Bay in a heavy north west gale. A larger Italian barque, the “Congiziona”, who was miles to windward of the “Ceres” in the evening, came ashore close to Bude in the night. “Ceres” worked out of the Bay and ran for Padstow. She entered the harbour safely but with an ebb tide and an eddy wind, she had to let go both anchors when under the dangerous Steppe Point. She struck the rocks but the crew managed to get ashore at low water. They were able to get onboard again, and that night she was towed to Padstow Harbour where she was repaired.

In 1912, a bold step was taken by her owner who had the vessel fitted with a semi-diesel engine of 30hp, and this has turned out a complete success.

During the war, when Bude Bay was a hotbed of German submarines. most of the coasters were penned in harbour. “Ceres” with the aid of the engine was able to make regular trips to Bristol and South Wales ports and bring back cargoes of grain, flour, groceries etc. Her shallow draft allowed her to keep near the rocks and sands where the submarines could not submerge and she was then able to successfully evade them.

That “Ceres” is standing the test of time is evident from the fact that, in the last five years, she has carried forty cargoes of basic slag and thirty of flour in all weather without damaging a plank.

She made the record number of passages for any ship between Bude, Cardiff, Port Talbot etc. during October 1927 as follows:

Saturday, October 8th, arrived Bude, discharged and sailed for Port Talbot;

Sunday, October 9th, arrived Port Talbot;

Monday, 10th October, loaded slag and sailed for Bude;

Tuesday 11th, arrived Bude, discharged and sailed for Port Talbot;

Wednesday 12th, arrived Port Talbot, loaded and sailed;

Thursday 13th arrived Bude, discharged and sailed for Cardiff;

Friday 14th, arrived Cardiff, loaded and sailed on Saturday;

Sunday October 16th, arrived at Bude from Cardiff in one tide.

Bude harbour is 14 miles south west of Hartland Point. There is water in Bude for three hours on spring tides and those who know the difficulty of a small coaster rounding Hartland Point with its strong race of tides on springs will appreciate the last mentioned passage from Cardiff dock to Bude in one passage.

I am sure all readers of Sea Breezes will join me in wishing “Ceres” a further long lease of active service.”

and it is signed: R.P.Hirst,Liverpool.

The above article was taken from my grandfather’s (Captain Alfred Petherick) notebook. His notes then go on to list passages made by “Ceres” over many years, although it does not cover every year of her active service.

As examples, the entries for 1870 note the following ports visited in order:

Bude, Newport, Plymouth, Penryn, Porthcawl, Truro, Newport, Truro, Newport, Bude, Newport, Waterford, Newport, Malpas, Newport, New Ross, Newport, Bude, Newport, New Ross, Wexford, Newport, Falmouth, Newport, The Yealm, Newport, Bude, Truro, Newport, Bude, Newport, Bude.

And in 1878:

Bude, Wexford, Dublin, Fishguard, Porthgain, Gloucester, Looe, Plymouth, Maldon, Ipswich, Bideford, Port Talbot, Bude, Saundersfoot, Waterford, Saundersfoot, The Yealm, Saundersfoot, Portland, London, Newry, Newport, Bude, Boscastle, Plymouth, Bude, Newport, Bude.

A random selection of cargoes include:

80 tons manure, 85 tons slate, 70 tons salt, 80 tons granite, 82 tons cement, 85 tons limestone, 377 barrels of resin, 84 tons china clay, 80 tons iron ore, 2000 fire bricks, general cargo, scrap iron, 83 tons potash, 40 tons pine wood, 82 tons pipe clay, 82 tons blue clay; 673 barrels oats, 404 quarters barley, 10 tons potatoes.

In 1868, there is a note:

“Ceres” lengthened by fifteen feet from Dec 7th 1868 to July 20th 1869.

At the end of these lists is a record of the skippers who sailed her:

1826: Captain G.Barrett

1842: Captain Lewis

1852: Captain W.W.Petherick

1884: Captain R.W.Petherick

1929: Captain Ben Stainton

1933: Captain A.Petherick

1935: Captain O.G.Jeffery

And the final entry reads:

“Foundered midnight Nov 24 1936. Bideford Bay, Crew saved by lifeboat.”

“Ceres” was 125 years old when she went down.

This is one of a number of posts on the Ketch “Ceres”. They have been presented in a random order as and when I have found, or been given, new material. They represent steps in a personal quest to find out more about one branch of my family.

If you are interested in maritime history or would like to read more, please use the Search facility at the top right hand side of this page (‘Ceres’). If this is not available on your current screen, then click on ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’ – (or the title of this entry, then ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’), to be taken to the correct page.

The Barque “Annie Braginton”

02/04/200708/11/2015 / Bill / 1 Comment

In May 1865, having signed off from the barquentine ‘Forest Prince’ in Liverpool, my great grandfather, W.W.Petherick, returned to Newport, Monmouthshire. Ready to go to sea again, he signed on the barque “Annie Breganton” for a voyage to Shanghai, Montreal and London, leaving on 1^st June.

This is his story, in his own words:

A few particulars of a Voyage from Newport, Mon. to Shanghai, thence to Montreal and back to London, by W.W.Petherick.

In 1865, I shipped as A.B. at Newport, Mon. in the Scotch Barque “Annie Bragenton” of Alloa, Firth of Forth, Capt. Alexander McDougall, Master of a crew of 12 all told, loaded with about 860 tons (of) coals for the English Government at Shanghai. I had the magnificent wage of £2.15.0 per month, signed for a voyage of three years if we remained abroad so long, or be paid off at the first English port we arrived at.

We towed away from Newport on June lst 1865 at 5 a.m. I might say here our owner was a great economist. He showed it in every trait. He went out of Newport with us and when just got passed the Flat Holmes, the tug came alongside and the owner and pilot left us instead of towing us to Lundy Island some fifty miles farther as was usually done on such voyages.

The Captain, over 70 years of age, had not been in the Bristol Channel before. The wind was up from the West against us, light. We set all sail and soon saw it was a poverty stricken outfit, but was in hopes it was the summer suit and that there was better in the sail locker, but found to our regret later there was not much improvement.

We got down off the Huntstone at low water, when the Captain should have anchored as the wind was so light, but he allowed her to drive near all the strong spring tide and about half an hour before high water he sighted a buoy which I knew was the buoy at the west end of the Culver Sands. He got rather excited and called to the mate to range the chain and let go the anchor. We ranged the chain, when I told the mate I was sorry it meant a lot of work for us and we should immediately have to heave it up again as the tide would soon turn, that there was no danger of the Culver Sands as we was 2 or 3 miles to the North of them. He went and told the Captain, when I was called aft and explained to the Captain that I had served 4 years at sea mostly in the Bristol Channel. When I was appointed pilot.

We worked down the north shore to the Nash when the wind went a little more to the north, and the next morning we was going between Lundy Island and Hartland Point. We had a fine time down passed the Scilly Islands.

The Captain was very pleased with my pilotage and thanked me very much. He hoped to repay me before we parted, which he did by lending me books and instruments and learning me navigation, that, within a fortnight of terminating the voyage, I went in at Plymouth and passed my first examination!

A few days after passing Scilly, it came on to blow fresh from the west. Out main topgallant sail soon went to tatters and the boom jib soon followed suit. It was then we soon found out what we had got in the sail locker. It was a sorry sight. There was 2 A.B.s then chosen as sail makers. I was one of them which I did not regret. We did very little else all the passage other than our ordinary duties of steering, bending and sending down and up sails when blowing away in bad weather etc.etc.

Then we found more economy in the quality of our food. Beef, pork, bread etc. etc. we thought was about the cheapest and worst that he could get. After three days at sea, we had not a potato nor any green vegetables for the whole of the passage, neither a taste of butter etc. etc.

We had a nice north wind that ran us through the Bay of Biscay and onwards. The next land we sighted was the Canary Islands, then we took the N.E.Trade Winds and crossed the Equator in Long. 24 W. We then took the S.E.Trade Winds and went away on a wind.

The next land we sighted was the islands or rocks of Trinidade off Pernambuco, South America. We then went away on the starboard tack, edging down for the Roaring Forties which we soon found. We had some very strong gales, with the usual amount of blowing sails to ribbons and unbending and bending fresh of which we had great experience, but the little ship was a great sea boat and ran well before before a gale.

The next land sighted was the Island of St Paul in the South Indian Ocean when we hauled up passed Australia about 70 miles off.

The next land sighted was the Island of Timor in the Indian Group when we drifted within shouting distance of a full rigged ship, the first we had spoken to since leaving England.We asked: “What ship? From where? Where bound? and How many days out?” “Ship ‘Mary’ from Cardiff bound to Shanghai, 119 days out.” We told him we was the Barque ‘Annie Bragenton’ from Newport for Shanghai, 130 days out.

We got up through the Indian Islands and crossed the Equator in 130 East and soon got in the China Sea, then our troubles commenced.

Heavy N.E. monsoons and were continually having near every sail blown away. We was for a day or two with nothing but our foretopmast staysail and 4 or 5 new tarpaulins lashed in the mizzen rigging and back stays. Our port bulwarks was near all gone from the fore to the main mast. Our crew were near all laid up with the scurvy, some very ill, and our ship, through the great heat when in the Indian Ocean, our top sides began to leak.

We had large iron fly wheel pumps that, when all the hands were there, we could strike them and throw a great volume of water, but now to be reduced to 4, and they not very strong. It was very bad. But it was, as the old nautical adage “pump or sink”, so we managed to keep her afloat.

Thankful when we sighted a Shanghai pilot boat, and when he came on board, he was rather amazed to see what straits we had got to. Only 4 hands on deck for over a fortnight. I took him to the cabin where the Captain was in bed. He asked if he should send his boat on shore and (run?) for a steam tug, which he did. He also asked if the Captain would like a few Irish potatoes. “Lend all you can spare.” He said he had only two or three bucketfuls, as they were 30/- per cwt. The Captain said he did not give a damn if they were £30. He sent us three buckets full. The mate gave us one which we ate raw like hungry ravenous pigs.

The next morning a tug came and soon got us up the river to Shanghai on December 12th after being 195 days at sea.

Annie Bragenton from Shanghai to Montreal to London.

Sailed from Shanghai on January 31st, 1866 bound to Montreal with a cargo of tea.

We had a beautiful run down the China Sea. Soon passed Hong Kong and Singapore and through the Bangka Straits where we had to anchor one night as very dark and the passage narrow. Then through the Straits of Sunda.

We had a bum boat come off from Sumatra when we purchased some monkeys, fancy Java sparrows, fowl, sugar, bananas, coconuts, pineapples, oranges etc. etc..

When we went out between Java and Sumatra and across the Indian Ocean and South Pacific for the Cape of Good Hope. We had one heavy breeze off the Cape. Had to heave to under a close reefed maintopsail, but at daylight in the morning when we set everything again, passed close to Cape Town. Could see the ships inside the breakwater.

Then steered for St Helena where we hove to. A boat came off. We made some purchases, sent some letters ashore and off again for Newfoundland.

The next land we made was Cape Ray, Newfoundland. Up to that time we had had a beautiful passage, only taking our main topgallant sail in once the whole passage, but we had a little puff in the Gulf of St Lawrence off Anticosti Island and blew away some more sails. We had no more canvas nor twine to repair them. We had to put stoppers on the leach ropes of the fore topsail, herring bone the cloths with marlin spikes and spun yarn etc, but we soon got a steam tug and towed to Montreal, arriving there on June 1st, 120 days out from Shanghai. Discharged our tea and loaded a cargo of maize and flour for London.

While at Montreal, the Captain kindly gave me leave to go to Toronto to see some relations, 300 miles distant. I remained with them 3 weeks visiting about, and had a good time.

We sailed from Montreal again in the first week of July and had a fine passage to London with one exception. One afternoon on the Banks, the weather came on very bad and that night it blew half a gale, rained heavy and thick fog. When daylight appeared, the weather cleared away and the sun came out and there was nine large ice bergs, and we cutting through one corner of them, 2 on our port side and 7 on our starboard. But fortunately escaped striking them and soon left them behind.

We then had light winds to London, arriving there in the middle of August, 35 days out, when that finished our voyage. The whole crew that sailed from Newport returned with one exception. One A.B. got in trouble in Shanghai and was left behind. Another one shipped.

W.W.Petherick

This is one of a number of posts on the Ketch “Ceres” – in this case her owner’s early years. They have been presented in a random order as and when I have found, or been given, new material. They represent steps in a personal quest to find out more about one branch of my family.

If you are interested in maritime history or would like to read more, please use the Search facility at the top right hand side of this page (‘Ceres’). If this is not available on your current screen, then click on ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’ – (or the title of this entry, then ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’), to be taken to the correct page.

The Brigantine “Forest Prince”

01/04/200722/06/2007 / Bill / 2 Comments

Thinking about the past being inhabited by the same people as us. Times and technology were different, but our reactions to them would have been similar.

Below is a brief account of a voyage made in 1865 by one of my great-grandfathers, W.W.Petherick.

As far as I can tell, these are his own words. In fact, I have taken it from his son’s notebook. I assume he copied it direct from the original. His text has very few punctuation marks and no paragraphs. Because that makes dense reading on a screen, I have added both. This will annoy the history purists, but, hey, it’s a good short story, hiding a lot between the lines – enjoy it.

Brigantine “Forest Prince” of Newport, Monmouthshire.

I shipped on the Brigantine “Forest Prince” of Newport, Mon. as Able Seaman at £2.17.6 per month, in the beginning of March 1868 on a voyage from Newport to Lisbon with a cargo of 325 tons of Coals, then Ballast for Villa Real in Spain near Gibraltar, then take a cargo of Copper Ore to Liverpool.

We sailed from Newport on March 7th with an easterly gale and very heavy snow. We ran down to Morte under a close reefed topsail and foresail. When passing that, we set the double reefed mainsail and, after passing Hartland Point about 10 pm the same night, the wind being just abeam, blowing heavy, we found what we was up against.

She was a new vessel, the first voyage, the owners having six vessels just the same size all running against each other, trying which should make the quickest and most passages. Our vessel appeared to be over-masted and over-sparred, top heavy. She got hove down on her broad side with the lee bulwarks all under, and full of water on deck from end to end. She looked very ugly. We got her away before it and took the foresail off.

The next morning it moderated a bit when we soon got and entered the Bay of Biscay, when the wind shifted around to the South West and blew very heavy and we had to heave to. We found her a miserable sea boat. She would not come up and take the seas end on, but merely fall off and allow the seas to roll over her in the trough of the sea. We smashed away a good deal of the lee bulwarks to try and relieve her. After two or three days the wind veered to the North West, still blowing very heavy, when we had to get her on the other tack and smash away more bulwarks.

After about a week the wind moderated, came from the East and we eventually got to Lisbon, a beautiful harbour and beautiful town, with plenty of fruit. And while there I went to a bull fight one Sunday afternoon, but never wish to go to another. After discharging we took in ballast and proceeded to Villa Real where we duly arrived having had a fine passage.

We then loaded a cargo of Copper Ore and sailed, having a fine passage as far as the Scilly Islands when the wind came from the North East and blew very heavy all the way to Liverpool, where we arrived in the middle of May, when we all left but the Captain, not wishing to go another voyage in such a wet Packet as that. WWP.

This is one of a number of posts on the Ketch “Ceres” – in this case her onwer’s early years. They have been presented in a random order as and when I have found, or been given, new material. They represent steps in a personal quest to find out more about one branch of my family.

If you are interested in maritime history or would like to read more, please use the Search facility at the top right hand side of this page (‘Ceres’). If this is not available on your current screen, then click on ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’ – (or the title of this entry, then ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’), to be taken to the correct page.

Inshore Craft 1

19/02/200720/02/2007 / Bill / 5 Comments

“We treat the past as a foreign country, when, in reality, it was occupied by the same people as us.”

I’ve forgotten who said that but I was reminded of it when I saw that Edgar March’s “Inshore Craft of Britain: In the Days of Sail and Oar” has just been republished.

It was first published in 1970, and covers small working boats of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries. Reading it, I was fascinated that an island as small Britain should have developed so many different shaped boats to perform more or less the same thing. Each locality had grown a different tradition. These working boats were, in effect, visual versions of regional accents. Thirty five years later, I am still fascinated.

Three reasons for liking this book:

1. For the boats themselves – as complex objects, with lines and detail, some more elegant than others, but all with a functional beauty that fitted their surroundings.

2. They were true examples of the the concept of ‘form following function’, made more substantial in that they were the livelihood of their owners and crew. Here were small boats constructed in local yards round the coastline of a small island. They varied in shape, in design and in size, not just from region to region but often from harbour to harbour, the only limitation being in the wood and materials used in their construction.

On the face of it, looking back from our mass-produced, communication-efficient world, it can be difficult to understand why this Falmouth Workboat, photographed off Polruan in Cornwall

should differ so much from this Coble, photographed at Seahouses in Northumberland.

After all, they were built for more or less the same purpose.

In fact, the answer isn’t so difficult. Take one island, facing north, south, east and west; take tides, currents, prevailing winds; take a long, varied coastline, some stretches steep and rugged, some shallow with sand and mud, some exposed to the weather, some with large safe deep harbours, some with just a rock or two for shelter. Add a function – fishing, trade, piloting, transport.

Even today, these factors would make a difference to shape and form, but think what centuries of experience of local conditions would do. Think about the materials that would be available in one part of the country that weren’t in another. Think about the traditions that would have grown up around a particular coastline. And to really understand what it was like, you need to take one other factor into account:

3. The owners and crew who sailed in them. They represented the way of life of countless small communities. This was a world where experience counted, where fathers passed their skills onto their sons and, less so in those days, their daughters. Here were local communities, not necessarily isolated from one another but certainly separated, who developed their own craft specifically for the coastal conditions in their area.

No different from us today – they faced the problems of the time and had to solve them. They laughed like us, they cried like us, they succeeded, they failed, they loved, they hated – just like us. They knew what hard work meant. Some did it well, some badly, a few brilliantly. Some were successful financially and went on to do more, some were less so. But their knowledge, skills and attitudes came from doing, from experiencing first-hand. It took longer to gain them, but the best results lasted as long, if not longer, than ours will today. Those hard-won abilities created individuals in a world that needed individuals.

There is one major difference between are ancestors and us today. We have access to more knowledge and more skills, and at a far younger age, than those who came before us could possibly imagine in their wildest dreams – (think Google, endless courses, books, journals and DVDs). But, despite this, our basic ability to absorb and use our new-found knowledge has not grown in line with our sources. In the end, we learn best by doing too – and it still takes time. All the rest of the stuff that comes our way is ‘on approval’ – and we are becoming increasingly swamped by it, struggling to be individuals in a sea of often irrelevant information.

So what’s your point, Bill?

I don’t have a romantic view of the past but I do have a respect for those who learn from experience – and I don’t care whether they were born in 2007 or 1007. (At this point, it would be easy to bang on about our not learning the lessons of the past, but that’s for others to do).

What I would like to do is to stay with boats and to use the concepts above – a) boats themselves, b) the fact of their form following their function, and c) the crews who sail in them, and, as I travel around the coasts not just of the UK but further afield, record, if I can, examples of craft that are being used today that represent this long line of experience. No doubt, some will exhibit a high quality of craftsmanship, some less so. But it isn’t the quality I want to pick out here. What interests me are the solutions to maritime problems that work in particular circumstances. Like this small fishing boat moored in Trikeri on the Pelion Peninsular, on the Aegean shores of Greece.

I do not pretend to be an expert. Inevitably, my efforts will be random observations and certainly not comprehensive. But, this is not an academic study, it is a record of small pleasures, pleasures I believe I share with many other people.

It is also a record of concern, a concern I also share with many others. Times are changing so fast that much hard-won, long-term experience is being sacrificed in the name of easily-found, short-term expediency. We badly need to hang on to some of that experience.

So, my entries to this blog over the next year or so will include an ‘Inshore Craft’ series of images. I hope they will be of interest to you. Please feel free to add your own if you wish.

The entrance to Bude Haven

14/01/200722/06/2007 / Bill / 2 Comments

This the Barrel Rock at the entrance to Bude Haven, North Cornwall at 1445 this afternoon.

High water was 1334, the wind is south west, force 6-7.

This coast stretches North-South. Due west is Newfoundland, Canada.

This is not a coast for a small boat on a day like today, but there was a time when the choices were different.

On warps and batteries

31/12/200631/12/2006 / Bill

At the marina yesterday, I found the No.1 battery (my engine starter) lowish, while the No.2 battery was almost fully charged.
I have no idea why there should be a difference as they were both fully charged when I last looked a week ago.
The engine started easily on the No.2 battery and the other one is now fully charged, but I shall keep a close eye on it.

The current high winds have worked the warps hard and there were early signs of chafe on the aft spring. I changed this to a heavier rope as this takes the full weigh of the boat most often.

Where Blue Mistress is moored, in the corner of the marina, most of the gales seem to deflect from the other side of the river and push her away from the finger. This is good because, as I’ve mentioned before, her deck is level with the pontoon/finger making it difficult to position the fenders. If they are raised to sit between the rubbing strake and the finger, they work themselves out. Placing them so that they are just below the rubbing strake keeps them in place and the hull off the finger in a calm, but with a swell there is a tendency to roll and the possibility of sliding under the edge of the finger. In the very heavy winds before Christmas, there was some slight damage.

As we are in a corner with plenty of room, I have been able to overcome this by running a warp to the far pontoon from midships. Together with the starboard bow warp to the pontoon, this holds her about two feet off and still allows room for a large motor vessel to moor opposite.

Just an Observation

08/12/200608/12/2006 / Bill

Just an observation:

Last Sunday, winds of over 100 mph caused havoc along the stretch of water that was the subject of my previous entry – (posted three hours before it happened).

A row of yachts, theoretically safely stored on shore for the winter, were blown over, breaking masts, deck equipment etc and causing millions of pounds worth of damage.

At least one boat still on the same moorings we had left at the beginning of the month sank, other yachts were torn from their moorings and blown ashore.

The marina where Blue Mistress is berthed is reasonably sheltered but two fingers were broken from the pontoons with yachts still moored to them.

Blue Mistress is ok where she is – stretched lines which needed readjusting.

There have been two further gales during the week.

Many thanks to Mike and David who have kindly had a look since and reworked the springs.

The long term forecast talks of more stormy weather and blizzards during February and March.

I don’t remember ‘blizzards’ occurring in long range forecasts in this country before.

Short Voyage – Continuing Story

03/12/2006 / Bill / 1 Comment

Blue Mistress is now snug in her winter berth, very different from the exposed swing mooring of the past three months. She looks small among the high-sided yachts around her, like a new student in a strange school.

For me the short trip from mooring to berth, from one river to another, the Tamar to the Plym, held more than an Autumn afternoon jaunt.

The gps reads 3.33 nautical miles, but that’s only distance. It took about an hour, but that’s only time. In terms of maritime history, distance and time, this stretch of water is endless.

It’s full of human stories – modern stories that has been going on for centuries. Stories of people setting out to explore their world using that most adventurous of ways to travel – on water.

Throughout the year, many thousands of holiday-makers, lorry drivers and business people cross the track I was taking. But long before the industrial age and ages of technology and information, people have left from here to explore the world, go to war, leave their home country for a life overseas, circumnavigate, trade and so on. They have lifted their faces to the same weather, smelt the same sea and felt that first lift of swell beneath them.

Many of the names have been with me since I was knee high. I don’t believe they were all paragons of virtue but they sure made an impact on the world.

In 1577, Francis Drake, started his circumnavigation in Golden Hind from Plymouth. Three years later, he moored off Drake’s Island (on the right of the picture) before heading up Channel for a triumphant return.

On 19th July 1588, now Sir Francis Drake, he and the English fleet slipped out of Plymouth to tail the Spanish Armada up the Channel to meet them in battle off Gravelines on 29th July.

On 16th September 1620, the Pilgrim Fathers set off from Plymouth in the Mayflower, Captain Standish, landing in Provincetown, Massachusetts on 11th November (66 days at sea)

In 1768, the Endeavour, under Captain James Cook, left from Plymouth on the first of his three voyages of discovery. In 1772, on his second voyage, he was accompanied by Captain Furneax, who charted the coast of Tasmania and in 1773 was the first Englishman to land there, and Captain William Bligh of the mutiny on the Bounty fame (April 1789), who later became governor of New South Wales from 1806-1809. In 1776, Cook again left from Plymouth on his ill-fated third voyage.

On 13th March 1787, following heavy gales, (this was before the Breakwater was built, remember), the transport ships ‘Charlotte’ and ‘Friendship carrying men and women convicts left for Australia. On 28th January 1788, they landed with nine other ships at Port Jackson, later to be Sydney, New South Wales

In 1831, Charles Darwin on board the Beagle was delayed in Plymouth by bad weather

On 12th May 1839, the Tory sets sail for New Zealand with settlers.

Between the 19th November 1840 and the 3rd September 1842, six ships left Plymouth with settlers bound for New Plymouth, New Zealand – the William Bryant, the Amelia Thompson, Oriental, Timandra, Blenheim and Essex.

A plaque near the Mayflower Steps remembers the thousands of Cornish men and women who sailed from Plymouth, miners and farmers to settling in South Australia. Not only Australia. In 1973, near Russell, in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, we came across a small cemetery with many graves of Cornish miners.

Between 1812 and 1841, Plymouth Breakwater was built to create one of the largest sheltered harbours in Europe. So , the Pilgrim Fathers, James Cook and the early transport ships would have set out into a bay into which a strong southerly swell could keep ships in port for days on end.

We passed Plymouth Hoe, with the prominent landmark of Smeaton’s Tower. This was the light on the Eddystone Rocks from 1756 to 1882 and would have been welcomed by the ships of the time, but the rocks were unlit in Drake and the Pilgrim Fathers’ time, a troubling navigational hazard some 14 miles off Plymouth.

1st May 1919, the American seaplane NC4 landed in Plymouth Sound after the hazardous first Transatlantic Flight

The Naval Dockyard at the beginning of our short voyage was started in 1651. Before this, it was based in Cattewater, which was where we were headed. During every war since, and the peacetimes between, including the First and Second World Wars, sailors, (and soldiers on the troop carriers), have journeyed through this water to unknown fates – many outstanding heroes among them, and many who were never to return. Only last week, in Iraq, we sadly lost a young marine who would have known this stretch intimately.

In the late sixties both Francis Chichester and then Alec Rose refitted on the Cremyll bank of the Tamar at Mashfords.

For some reason, Chichester’s feat shrank the world far more than air travel. For generations, the sea had been a route to adventure and the unknown. Sailors had gone to sea not knowing whether they would return. They had used the best of modern technology (bigger ships, better sails, different rigs) and that technology had evolved to meet the needs of exploration, trade and war. Now it was possible for men to race round the world solo in small boats. Setting sail for exploration, battle and trade had been joined by challenges of a more personal, leisurely kind.

This was hugely innovative and, as with all innovation, the next stage is organisation, and so OSTAR – the Observer Single-Handed Trans Atlantic Race, which had started in the Royal Western Yacht Club in 1960, developed and grew.

Single-handed sailing has come a long way since Hasler and Chichester’s initial race across the Atlantic. As I write, eight purpose-built yachts are competing in the Velux 5 Oceans race around the world and no less than 74 started in the Route du Rhum across the Atlantic. Phil Sharp, a Brit from Jersey has just won the Classe 40. These boats are filled with equipment that Chichester and Rose could only dream about.

And we can now garner news of these yachtsman more or less instantly. Video links put us in the yachts in the Southern Ocean – we live through their crises as they happen.

Near Mount Batten, we passed through a small fleet of youngsters dinghy racing (actually they shot round me). Perhaps the same youngsters were in the picture I took the following Sunday morning, looking for wind in the calm November sunshine. No time for romantic illusion here, they have the technology, winning is what counts and the wind is for the taking.

These are the inheritors of the legacy that the generations above have left – plus some. This is the generation that will face global warming head on.

Maybe its effects will not be as dramatic as some forecast, it certainly won’t be as miniscule as others hope. The reality will be somewhere in between, and the effect will be seen on the sea and in weather patterns before its effect on land.

As sea levels rise, it is not just the volume of water but the weight of water that we need to be concerned about. The tides will continue to rise and fall, but there will be more water flowing and if when the weather patterns dictate low pressure the water height will rise further and the weightand speed of tidal flow, combined with intermittent storm surges, will try our sea defenses.

We will need those who can read the sea and make best use of the weather. On this stretch of water, as on other stretches of water around the globe, this is where it starts, this is the training ground. These young people will be the heroes of the future, working with new technologies but dealing with the same elements with the same respect as those who went before them.

Every generation leaves unfinished business for those who follow. When the philosopher wrote, ‘whatever, you want, oh, discontented man, stand up, pay the price and take it!’ he meant us not only to have the courage to take up the challenge but also to take notice of the price to be paid for doing so.

Naturally, we have taken, but unfortunately (and perhaps inevitably) we have paid little heed to the price. Man has stepped out to reach as high as he can. Amazing feats have been accomplished, and wonderful innovations created. As the momentum of that taking has steadily increased, we have built a powerful head of steam. Now it is imperative we pay attention to the price and deal with it. That price is high.

Technology carries a large part of the answer but not all of it. Unfortunately, the very success of technology, (some would say it’s glamour), has blinkered us, causing us to rely on it and to think of progress as a headlong technological rush forward. Nowadays, we seem to discount even the recent past.

It’s as if the past has become a foreign country. We have forgotten that it was inhabited by exactly the same people as us – also facing the unknown, also having to find solutions to overwhelming problems. Yes, we have to face the challenges ahead ourselves, but we would do well to look back and learn from the experience of those previous generations.

Every problem carries it’s own solution, but, in this case, technology alone is not the answer. We need to look further.

Beyond Steeple Point

"Not all who wander are lost"

weather & tides