Antares (Continued)

The foredeck plunged upand down while spindrift whipping past stung me in the face. It was reminiscent of the worst sandstorms endured in the western desert in the Second World War.

Back in the cockpit, I sat for a few moments in the lee of the coachroof, fascinated by the sheer fury of the storm and the antics of the dinghy. I began to wonder what would happen if Antares did part her mooring. If it happened soon, with the mudflats still uncovered, she would go aground beam on to the wind and eventually sink as the tide returned. If this happened, I would stay with her until the mudflats were covered and then take to the dinghy, and go ashore, or swim. In no circumstances would I walk over the mud and risk getting stuck, like an ant that had wandered into a tin of treacle.

The cockpit of a Stella is no place to linger at 0450 in mid-October with a hurricane force wind blowing. I was glad to creep back into the cabin, put back the washboards and close the hatch. Sleep seemed out of the question, so I lit the Tilley lamp and Taylor stove and made a cup of tea. Then, wedged into the corner of the cabin, I wrote up the log. I must have dozed off because it did not seem long before daylight arrived at around 0700.

The wind had dropped somewhat and veered to south-west Force 7-8. I climbed on to the cabin roof and counted ten boats aground on the north shore, three of them on Tucker Brown's hard. I cooked breakfast and started clearing up. At noon, with the wind now south-west Force 5-6, Tony at Tucker Brown's kindly took me ashore in their launch. By now the sun was shining and, as I walked along the river wall, I saw that the Wallasea Bay pontoon had parted its easterly mooring, and lay across the river with all its attached boats, closing the river to traffic completely. I lost count of the number of boats that had come ashore.

Rosemary Prior's Shula, the crack Stella of the Burnham fleet, was one of them, with a broken mast and her starboard bow stove in. The Dragon fleet, moored off the Royal Burnham Yacht Club, had, with one exception, filled and sunk, with just their masts showing - the sole survivor had a well-fitting cockpit cover. So much for the last mini cruise of the season.

Paul Savage started sailing at the age of 11. A retired surgeon, he is the original owner of Antares (Sail No 110), completed by Tucker Brown in 1972. In the days when his wife still sailed and his three sons were at school and university, Antares cruised as far afield as the Isles of Scilly, Alderney, Guernsey, St Malo, St Mawes and the Solent, and occasionally to Ostend and Calais. Now he sails single-handed in the Thames Estuary, from Rochester to Aldeburgh, covering some 1,400 miles a year, and racing in Burnham Week, if crew can be found.

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