The blog records the voyages of PicoMicroYacht, a seaworthy small sailing dinghy converted for rowing long distances. This includes the 26th July 2012 crossing of the English Channel, as well as rowing along the south coast of England, down the river Thames, around London and across Ireland. PicoMicroYacht is a converted Laser Pico Sailing Dinghy, with a sliding seat, riggers and cleaver oars, fitted with a shortened main mast and a mizzen mast and can be set up as a reduced rig sailing boat.
The plan was to leave Shoreham by Sea and the row 13 miles down the English Channel to Littlehampton, the next port.
As I set off the coastwatch were looking at me through their binoculars.
Frustratingly, my VHF was flat because I left it on and I could not communicate with them. I had to consider whether to carry on. I still had my flares, a mobile phone in a waterproof pouch and my personal locator beacon. I waved and went on my way.
A motorboat was living it up it up as a I departed.
Down the coast there were two fishing boats to avoid as they came up the English Channel. One passed me quite close.
I passed Worthing, normally a grey blur from out at sea. Close up there were some good buildings to view.
Finally I was at Littlehampton. But the harbor was in full ebb and churning up the water outside. I went in for a closer look. It was a bit threatening if I am honest.
A yacht that had been tailing me turned to go in under motor and hit the strong tide, slowing to a crawl. A fishing boat turned in as well.
I realised that there was no way I would be able to get in. I was bouncing up and down already and it would get worse going nowhere very fast.
So I gave up and rowed another five miles down the coast to Felpham where there was a sandy beach and slipway.
Apparently, sitting too much is dangerous but not necessarily when rowing
PicoMicroYacht. The Port of London Authority were interested in my safety as I finished my voyage to Gravesend.
(Tim took a photo - a bit cheeky to include this without permission but Tim has twittered it, so I hope it is ok. He was tweeting to @girlaboutthames who was curious about PicoMicroYacht. Nice photography).
Tim from the Port of London Authority decided to quiz me from his launch. He was polite and pleasant, checking me out to determining whether I was at risk and warning me of the river dangers.
Tim's Port of London Authority catamaran launch -stylish boat in my view
However, it turns out that one of the most risky things I do is sitting at my computer desk at work.
According to the Guardian newspaper:
'Office workers should spend a minimum of two hours on their
feet at work – building up to an ideal four hours – in order to avoid the ill
effects of a sedentary lifestyle, according to a study co-commissioned byPublic
Health England.....Research has long linked excessive time spent
sitting to increased risk of morbidity or premature death.
More training for the next adventure, this time the South Coast and Brighton.
Brighton is a 50 minute train ride from the capital and considered as a place to go outside London if you want to stay in London but be by the sea.
The sea here is quite docile if you pick your moment.
Brighton doesn't have a port but is flanked by two very commercial ports, Newhaven to the East and Shoreham to the west, a 15 mile distance between the two.
Setting off from the marina in Newhaven, 'traffic' lights opposite the marina were signalling. Vessel movements are controlled by the Port Authority 'Newhaven Radio' on channel 12. A pilot boat was also on station to warn me that the ferry was about to enter. When the ferry arrived I realised why they take port control so seriously.
A sailing boat had made the mistake of entering after the ferry and too soon. A man appeared on a wharf and whistled loudly for it to stop and it was made to loiter even though the ferry had now docked.
Further down the coast was Peacehaven, originally developed for retiring World War I veterans to help them to escape and recover from the effects of the war. Development was piecemeal and not so attractive over the years.
I was then opposite Brighton, with the piers, one now a fun fair and another burnt down.
I drifted lazily on and listened to Channel 16. A 40 foot yacht had fouled its propeller and it was drifting. There seemed to be communication difficulties with the yacht and the coastguard was trying to coordinate a rescue using nearby ships.
I managed to confuse things by radioing my arrival off Brighton and got the following message "PicoMicroYacht this is Coast Guard. Thank you for your offer of assistance for (name of yacht); please report your position."
Soon I was in Shoreham, the distance gobbled up by a favorable tide and a following wind.
PicoMicroYacht has still to finish it's Thames adventure and so continued down the river.
The river was surprisingly rough as the west wind played against the last of the flood, with the Queen Elizabeth 2nd bridge in the distance.
Soon PicoMicroYacht was under the bridge and I was looking upwards, the tower blocks in the distance providing scale.
I had to look out for river traffic and keep my station. A ship was creeping upstream with two tugs huffing and puffing to keep it in the right position for docking.
A solitary yacht came past under genoa, keeping the speed down so as to arrive at Gravesend at a particular time.
Soon I was passing the wharves at Gravesend, as the river accelerated. I was now drifting down at six knots, with the greenish brown water in boiling turbulence around me.
.
I made my approach, readying PicoMicroYacht for the only slipway. A Port of London Authority launch made a beeline for me from across the river, wanting to quiz me about my intentions. After a brief chat, PicoMicroYacht was on it's way.
Gravesend Sailing Club kindly agreed to store my boat for a few hours. A chatty friendly group of sailors greeted me.
They conquer the mud in dinghies by going out at high tide and using the crane to launch.
Their friendly welcome made me almost want to join the club there and then, but PicoMicroYacht must continue onward.
In preparation for the next adventure PicoMicroYacht has been in Rio - well not actually PicoMicroYacht, but a substitute, a sculling boat was used. I was hosted by the Botafogo rowing club who kindly let me loose on Scorpius in the lagoon to be used for the Olympic rowing next year. The backdrop was the iconic Art Deco statue of Jesus Christ on the hill behind.
Scorpius reminded me why PicoMicroYacht is a better bet when rowing across the English Channel. You can stand on the side deck of PicoMicroYacht and it will not capsize. Scorpius has no side deck. If you catch a crab in PicoMicroYacht nothing happens; Scorpius might turn turtle, depositing you in the water and that's it.
The boat captain found out that I was last in a sculling boat shell aged 19 years - a race down the tideway from Barnes bridge to Putney, London. After 37 years would the old skills return? He gave me strict instructions and looked anxious.
I set off gingerly, rowing like a novice and willing myself not to fall in.
Two thousand metres later I didn't want to push my luck any further.
My friends the Laks family had been so kind introducing me to the Botafogo rowing club.
Jerson Laks a Flamengo supporter was surprisingly cheerful (sorry - an in joke - Flamengo are a rival team to Botafoga Football Club but lost 1 0 to Botafoga when I attended the Maracana stadium a few days before - Jerson and his wife were extra kind in taking me to the rowing club given his team had just lost - see Botafoga crest in photograph)
Sir Steve Redgrave visited the Botafogo club last year and had a go as well.
Post-note for the previous blog: It was up these reaches that the Fighting Temeraire had been towed to be scrapped at Rotherhithe, captured in the famous oil painting by Joseph Mallord William Turner, now in the London National Gallery.
As the tug strained, the sun was setting below a salmon red sky. Turner was there in his rowing boat just in time to witness the last voyage of the old ship, sketching frenetically in watercolors to capture the moment . The Literary Gazette wrote at the time of Mr Turner's subsequent oil painting"the sun of the glorious vessel... setting in a flood of light... typifying the departing glories of the old Temeraire."
In the film 'Mr Turner' there is a scene that recreates this event with historical accuracy using CGI.
Well not quite. Turner wasn't there. The voyage was up the Thames Estuary coming from the east and the sun would have been setting in the west. The masts and rigging had been removed before it had set off and it was towed by two tugs.
But in his mind's eye Mr Turner saw the scene that he depicted and that's good enough for me.
'As I rowed down the Thames, I turned my head and for a moment I am sure I saw that old ship making it's way upstream towards me, the paddle wheels of the tug clanking softly. I adjusted PicoMicroYacht's course to avoid it, making a mental note to keep looking round every so often until it was clear.'
This is what London would look like without the Thames Barrier, according to the disaster novel 'Flood' by Richard Doyle.
I set off without a nautical map - just an old ordinance survey one, from before the O2 was built. The next stage was through the Thames Barrier, past the Woolwich ferry and on until Erith Yacht Club.
The Greenwich Yacht Club was packed with sailing boats stored for the winter and Chris was there to help me launch and park my trailer, sending me off with a friendly wave. The club originated from the nautical interests of the Thames watermen and river workers and their families.
A cold calm day in December, dominated by the new buildings and with a winter blue sky.
Dinghies were trying to sail but there was no wind.
The Thames Barrier was now in view, the control tower on the right.
The protocol is that you have to call up the barrier officer on Channel 14 and let them know you are arriving. The reply was "PicoMicoYacht, your signal is breaking up, it's breaking up (yes ... they really do say as in the movies - 'you are breaking up'). Please call back when you are close to the barrier."
But I was right in front of the barrier, so I called again: "I am right in front of the barrier." "You are cleared to go through now" "Roger that, thank you and out." Calm voices throughout.
The extraordinary shapes of the barrier are best seen on a clear winter day.
Low down in a dinghy, each section is dramatic.
It competes with the best of 20th century art, but is there to save London.
As the tide pushed me down stream away from the barrier, the officer called me up again and warned of a tug boat towing barges coming down stream in my direction. I had clocked it already, as it labored along, slowly getting nearer, the lens of my camera foreshortening the perspective to include all the background buildings.
I had to maintain my concentration because the tug boat was keeping my attention whilst the danger could be behind me, further down stream.
I was now nearing the Woolwich ferry, which was just about to cross to my side. But the tug had caught up with me and provided a shield from the ferry. I passed through as the ferry held station and then I saw it nip round the back of the tug.
Soon I had reached the Crossness pumping station. This Victorian engineering wonder took the effluent from the City of London and pumped it in to the Thames at high tide, the idea that it would then flow out into the north sea. It worked. The problem was that my great great grandfather lived just a few miles downstream. After a campaign by his influential industrialist brother, whose workers were being made ill on his wharves and vessels, the government were persuaded to treat the sewage. This was made easier by the loss of the passenger ship Princess Alice, which collided and sunk near the sewer outfall, the passengers all drowning in the sewage - see http://vimeo.com/115142470
Further down the wharves, cranes and industry dominated.
I was now closing in on Erith and the low temperatures were now freezing my camera, so I had to give up the photography for the moment. In my last photograph I could see the yachts moored off Erith Yacht Club and the QE2 bridge in the distance.
In the twilight PicoMicroYacht was beached.
Mick and his wife from the club was generous with their time, waiting to close up the club until PicoMicroYacht was ready to leave and giving me a cup of tea as we chatted.
