Ship’s Boy Mark Jacobson joins Nancy Blackett on an expedition to Secret Water.

On many occasions Nancy has met with Privateers. Not that this has been in any way a problem to her: although boarded by such, they always have an official ‘letter of marque’ authorising their activities, signed by no less a personage than our esteemed Sailing Secretary!

And so it was that I came on board, as Ship’s Boy, having joined the Skipper in the vast vaults of Liverpool Street station. Eventually a taxi decanted us at the Woolverstone Marina, to meet up with Mate, temporarily demoted from skipper himself, who was to demean his position by becoming our guide to East Coast mud. Actually, he had been already aboard the previous week as Skipper, and, having spread various additions around Nancy, felt that further use of his extra equipment could be made by accompanying us for this week’s sailing!

I had no idea that solid state technology required so many wires! Even in my youth I had managed to reduce a crystal set receiver to requiring merely an ‘earth’; our Mate had strewn wires everywhere, aerials and earths up and across at head catching heights.

The aerials reached out of the forward port holes to the shrouds while the earths invaded the bilges in the direction of the engine. Could this have any connection with the fact that, having set sail from Woolverstone, when needing to reef the mainsail, the halyard jammed solidly, requiring the mainsail to be scandalised (above right) to the mast so we could enter the Suffolk yacht marina at Levington for a ‘monkey up the mast’ (left); or that, when leaving the extremely narrow channel out from there, the engine cut out owing to an airlock?

Despite these setbacks, Nancy managed to take us southwards to the Walton Backwaters, where we stopped at the Titchmarsh Marina. Tides and winds being awkward, the next day became a walk: with low water around midday, the Mate, on crutches (don’t ask why!), Skipper and myself, walked the road to reach the lane leading to the ‘Wade’, which facilitates crossing ‘The Twizzle’. It was not really clear why it should be so named, only the Skipper bringing sea boots! Once feet are wet, they do not suffer from water; the ‘Wade’ may dry out – but many deep puddles are left by the farmer’s vehicles (above right). Meeting him in the middle, he called us “cowards” for declining to camp on the island!

Next morning we sailed around the northern side of Horsey Island, in Hamford Water, to find the landing from the water. We discovered that the spit extending from the point opposite, from Skipper’s Island, is growing, giving us just 2 m of water at high neaps; conceivably Kirby Creek may be unattainable for Nancy in the future.

A good sail the next day, after a night on a mooring in the Walton Channel, brought us back to the Stour. First we took a close look at Waverley (above left), moored by Harwich.We gradually made our way up river as far as Erwarton Ness before retracing to Shotley, where we entered the marina early, anticipating gales later that day. Of course these did not materialise, but that is how it goes! The next day’s sailing proved to be against wind and tide up the Orwell, so we motored, thinking how good it would be in the reverse direction. Having had an pleasant evening meal in Ipswich (right) with Lord Nelson and the Sailing Committee Chairman, plus visits to Excelsior, the morning’s wind had changed direction! The final sail was motoring again!

Nevertheless, our private trip had been very enjoyable and challenging.

PHOTO CREDITS: M Jacobson.