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Designed & Maintained By Carol Gingell
Boating Tales From The 1970s
By Arthur
Morning arrived and we once again set off up river. Back through Horning and under Wroxham Bridge. This time we were lucky enough to find a mooring at Coltishall. Evening was spent in the Rising Sun and after possibly disturbing neighbouring boats with the sound of our efforts on the bilge pump we settled down for our last night of freedom. The plan was to use the final day to make sure the boat was properly clean and tidy to hand back despite all the problems we had with it. I think that this is something I inherited from my parents. Whenever we stayed anywhere on holiday we always made sure the property was as clean if not cleaner than it was when we arrived. I have always made a point of handing any hire boat back with everything clean and tidy. In the afternoon we set out for the boatyard to spend the last night there so as to be able to get away early for the long train journey home. It was not that late in the afternoon when we arrived at the yard but there was nobody about to indicate what was to be done with the boat. So I found a suitable space and reversed her onto the berth. Next job was packing all but essential items ready for the departure in the morning. This was followed by settling down for an early night. This was after the regular use of the air freshener and the usual pumping out of the bilge water.
Next morning we were up early and ready and waiting for the yard to open. There was at least a foot of water in the bilge now and it was decided that this time we would leave it so as to point out the problem to the yard. Some time after the yard had opened no one had come to the boat so a trip was made to the office to try and get someone to deal with us. Eventually a member of the boatyard staff arrived. I informed him of the excessive amount of water getting into the bilge. He took a look and then said, “All boats seep a little” I gave up on this score. He was totally indifferent to the problems we had with the smell from the toilet as well. We then expected to be refuelled and given a figure of the amount to be refunded. This is what had happened at Astons. He checked the fuel level using a dipstick fetched from the shed. There had been no dipstick on the boat. Based on this reading a refund figure was written down. The next move I was staggered by. Another man joined the one already on the boat and they went through every item on the inventory. All the crockery was taken out and checked as was every single piece of cutlery. I was surprised they did not frisk us looking for any stolen knives and forks. Luckily nothing was damaged or missing. They did, however; charge us for the missing fender, the one that was missing when we took over the boat. Despite our protests they would not back down. Eventually we gave up arguing the point so as to be able to get away from the yard. We were already much later than we expected to be and faced a difficult journey home.
Did this put me off coming to the Broads? NO! It just made me determined that next time I would make sure of getting a good boat from a good yard. On arriving home I addressed a letter of complaint to the boatyard and also wrote a detailed account and a letter of complaint to Hoseasons. I was not after compensation or a refund but simply an apology. The main reason for writing to Hoseasons was to stop this happening to anyone else. No reply at all was received from the boatyard but a letter from a senior manager at Hoseasons arrived by return off post. This letter expressed much concern at the shortcomings we had experienced and assured me that the matter would be taken up with the yard concerned and a full investigation would take place.
A month or two later I decided to book another holiday on the Broads. Even though next summer was a long way away. This time the choice was a Calypso class from F B Wilds at Horning. At the time I think this was the most expensive 2 berth boat in the brochure. The booking was made and the deposit sent to Hoseasons. The invoice arrived by return. Also in the same post was a very pleasant letter from James Hoseason, thanking us for booking with them again and once again expressing regret over our previous holiday.
His letter included an invitation to visit the Hoseasons stand at the forthcoming boat show where he informed us that they would have a Calypso on display. January came and we made the trip to the London Boat Show. I had the chance to talk to both James Hoseason and the manager who had first dealt with the complaint. Mr Hoseason was extremely pleasant and introduced us to the lady who was explaining everything about the Calypso to potential hirers. From memory I think this was Frank Wilds daughter. We spent a long time having a really good look at the boat and asking all sorts of questions all of which were answered. On the whole a very good day out and an assurance that next years holiday was going to be a lot better. When the new brochure arrive it was rather interesting to see the boat we had all the problems with was no longer listed.
1976
It was now the summer of 1976 and once again we were off for a trip to Norfolk. After all the problems of the previous year we had splashed out a considerable amount this time. We hired a Calypso class from F.B. Wilds. At this time this was one of the most expensive, if not the most expensive 2 berth in Hoseasons brochure. This year we had also gone to the added expense of having a sailing dinghy and a television. (In those days TV was not available as of right but was an optional extra. From memory I think a black and white set was about £6 per week and a colour set around £10. All the sets available on boats appeared to be on rental from one firm). After hard saving over the year we were expecting a lot this time.
Anyway, once again we made the long train journey to Norfolk and eventually arrived at Wroxham station. It was still very early, so thinking about what had happened the previous year we decided to kill some time by stocking up for the week and then think about how we were going to get to Horning. Lumbered with luggage and a not inconsiderable amount of supplies we decided against the bus and took a taxi. The driver was really cheerful and when in general conversation on the way to the yard I commented on the fact we were a bit early. He immediately informed us that we were not the first and he had made a couple of trips to Wilds yard already. We arrived at the yard after a really pleasant journey. What a difference a cheerful taxi driver makes. He gave us his card and informed us that if we gave him a ring the night before he would pick us up from the yard after the holiday.
Next stop, reception. As soon as we walked in the lady behind the desk recognised us as the two who had asked so many questions at the boat show. She informed us that our boat was not yet ready but made us most welcome in the meanwhile. Despite the fact it was only around 1.30 and the official pick up time was 4.00pm we were able to board the boat within half an hour of arriving. What a difference from the previous year. The boat was absolutely spotless, inside and out. The whole boat, including the toilet smelled fresh and clean unlike last years boat. About 10 minutes later a man from the yard asked if we were ready and we were given instructions and a trial run. This time everything was explained clearly and all questions answered properly. Happy that we were going to bring the boat back in one piece he asked us to take him back to the yard where we could drop him off and pick up the dinghy.
Soon we were away. It was still only 2.30 so we had plenty of time before dark. We had a rather madcap plan to try and explore all of the navigable broads during the 2 weeks, so off we headed to the limit of navigation on the Bure. With such a low boat there was of course no problem getting under Wroxham Bridge. I must admit though that I prefer centre or aft cockpit boats where I can see for myself what the clearance is. On those front drive things you have to have faith in the bridge gauges and the air draft figure that the yard has stuck by the wheel.
Anyway, through the bridge with no problem. (No pilots at Wroxham in those days). I must admit that I don’t bother going above Wroxham now. (I just don’t want to have to spend so much money to go through a bridge I have navigated though myself many times). As it was still quite early on a turn round day we did not meet a lot of other boats until we reached the moorings near the Rising Sun. They were not full but there were already a number of boats there. Determined to go as far as possible up the Bure, we continued upstream until we could see the now sealed off lock. We were unable to proceed any nearer to the lock as there was a Bahama class stuck sideways on across the river. He had found the water too shallow and attempted to turn round. The result was that the cruiser was now scraping on the bottom at both ends and was stuck fast. We made an attempt to moor up and watch proceedings but also found problems with the depth of water and could not get nearer than about 4 ft from the bank. Nevertheless we temporally dropped the mud plug and watched as the poor folks on the cruiser after enduring numerous shouts of conflicting advise from people on the bank were eventually freed by a gentlemen with a small motor cruiser but a good deal of sense.
I would have liked to have been able to give them some assistance but our boat had already touched bottom a couple of times and I guess we could have ended up with two cruisers stuck instead of one. Those of you who remember the 1970’s will recall that in 1976 the UK was experiencing the worst drought for many years. In many areas of the country reservoirs were running dry and we were having to collect water from stand pipes or water tankers. As a result of the drought the water levels on the broads were at a record low and we found problems with shallow water several times during the 2 weeks.
Once all the excitement was over we lifted the weight again and headed back to moor near the Rising Sun. Even there we found difficulty getting close to the bank. We managed to get the lines ashore but the only way we were able to get on and off the boat was to position the dinghy in a suitable place and use it as a sort of stepping stone. After a quick meal followed by a brief visit to the pub it was time to try out the television. The program being broadcast at the time was a sort of documentary series about HMS Ark Royal. The series was called "Sailor" and the music being used to introduce this series was Rod Stewart’s “Sailing”. This seemed rather appropriate on our first night on the Broads.
Next morning we made an early start with the intention of stopping for lunch at Salhouse Broad. After a trip back down the Bure and look round Wroxham Broad we stopped at Salhouse. The normal way of mooring in this broad was to beach the bow on the shelving bank. The only problem with this was getting on and off the boat. However, we noticed that the people on the boat alongside us had a loop of rope hanging from the bow, obviously to assist in getting on and off. I tried the same idea and it actually worked very well. Time now to have a go at cooking a Sunday Roast. Unlike the previous year this task was completed easily. The cooker being excellent. Lunch over it was time to try out the dinghy. Everything on the dinghy had been neatly stowed by the boat yard so we set to with rigging the boat. It was a gaff rigged dinghy and seemed to have a fairly large sail area for its size. Anyway, sail now set and the centreboard lowered we set out onto the broad. For a hired dinghy this boat turned out to sail extremely well. There was a decent breeze that day and we enjoyed a really good afternoons sailing. On returning to the boat my friend went to organise a much needed cup of tea whilst I was about to commence to lower the sail and stow everything again.
I was suddenly called by a lady on the boat next to us. She said her son had been watching us sailing and could we possibly take him for a short sail on the broad. The lad was about 11 years old and told me he had been taught some sailing at school. Anyway, I agreed to take him for a quick trip and he seemed to be really enjoying it. The wind had freshened a bit and the dinghy was fair racing through the water. After a while he asked if he could have a go. The lad had learnt something at school as he certainly knew how to sail. When we returned to shore he brought the dinghy alongside under sail like an expert. After all this activity it was now getting a bit late to move on so we decided to pay the fee and stay the night. I think in those days it was about 40p.
Next morning first port of call was a quick trip back to F B Wilds yard to top up the water tanks. Everybody in the yard very friendly. We also took the opportunity to nip into Horning and purchase a few more food items. It’s surprising how much food two of you get through on a boat. Water tank full and plenty of supplies now on board we set off up the River Ant. There seemed at be an enormous number of yachts on the river and, all under sail despite the narrowness of the river in places. My normal practice when meeting a group of yachts heading toward me is to pull over to the bank and let them pass by. It is far easier and safer in the long run than trying to navigate among them.
Our Hamilton’s guide indicated that it was possible to navigate to Dilham via Dilham Dyke and also indicated that the North Walsham and Dilham Canal was navigable as far as Tonnage Bridge. Still trying to explore the whole of the broads we proceeded upstream passing across Barton and then heading for Wayford Bridge. Under the bridge and continuing upstream we took the dyke toward Dilham. No problems but there were no available moorings so we headed back and started up the canal. Hamilton’s Guide may have indicated Tonnage Bridge as the head of navigation but we ran into shallow water long before that and had to give up. Still, we had been as far as we could on the river Ant. Back down through Wayford Bridge we headed to Sutton Staithe for the night.
The Staithe at Sutton was very crowded but we were lucky to be able to moor on the very end. It was still early so we decided to pass some time by rowing back up the river in the dinghy. The mast and sail were placed on the roof of the boat. It was not easy to find anywhere else and they were in the way if we planned to use the oars. Rowing steadily across Sutton Broad we eventually reached the island where the channels for Stalham and Sutton divide. For some reason it seemed a good idea to row all the way round the island so we headed down the channel to the north of the island and then swung left along the western shore of the island. Half way along we could hear an extremely noisy cruiser approaching. Not only were they going far too fast but loud pop music was playing from a radio or some other source. If you have ever read Arthur Ransome’s Coot Club, then picture his description of the hullabaloos and the Margoletta and you will have a fair description of what was happening. The boat did not slow up at all as it passed us in the small dinghy and we found ourselves thrown amongst the overhanging low branches on the bank. A few choice words were aimed in their direction but I doubt if they even noticed us. At least the majority of visitors to the Broads were not like that. After extracting ourselves and the boat from the tangle of branches we continued with our circumnavigation of the island before rowing back to Sutton Staithe, feeling rather glad that the noisy cruiser had continued to head for Stalham and we would not have them near us that night.
Next day was another early start so as to get through the bridge at Potter Heigham as soon as possible. Nothing held us up and there were only a couple of boats ahead of us as we waited for the pilot. Once through the bridge it was time for another bite to eat so we headed up past Martham Ferry and stopped at West Somerton. The horse who had been taking an interest in all the boats the previous year was still there and still trying to make friends with all who moored. Hunger satisfied it was time to explore as much as we could of the upper broads. Back we headed and up Candle Dyke to Hickling and looked for the markers indicating the channel to Catfield Dyke. As we were trying to get round all of the broads we had to include the various dykes. I have not been up Catfield Dyke since this 1976 holiday but I can recall seeing the hulk of a derelict wherry hull either near the entrance to the dyke or part way along it. (This may be my memory playing tricks though) After exploring Hickling and Catfield Dyke we set out up Meadow Dyke and into Horsey Mere. I recall the number of boats that had decided to moor in the dyke made the channel very narrow and awkward as we met a fair number of craft coming the other way.
Venturing out onto the large expanse of Horsey Mere it was now time to try and find the markers for Waxham New Cut. It took a while but eventually they were sighted and our course set toward them.. So much for Waxham cut. We managed a couple of hundred yards as far as I recall and then grounded in the very weedy channel. It took us a while to get free again and the cut being rather narrow it was necessary to reverse all the way back to the mere. Having extracted ourselves from the cut they next stop was Horsey Staithe for the night. I’ve always liked this mooring but it does tend to get a little busy in mid summer. That evening the dinghy was rigged once again and we headed across the mere with the intention of sailing across the broad and rowing up toward Waxham. It seemed to take no time to sail across and after lowering sail, out with the oars and we headed once more up the cut. This time it was not the depth that put an end to our travels but the weed. It was just impossible as it kept tangling round the oars. It was surprising our propeller had not got fouled up earlier. Heading back it was not such a quick trip. The wind was not in our favour now and by the time we eventually reached the cruiser it was getting quite dark.
Next morning was spent sailing on the mere. Horsey seemed to be great for sailing and we were very lucky with a good breeze. After lunch it was time to head back South through Potter. It was now Wednesday and I had arranged for my parents to join us for the day on Saturday. As they were coming from the south of England we were going to meet them at Geldeston. A brief stop was made at Womack Staithe whilst a few more food items were purchased and then to Ranworth for the night. The Staithe was full and I am sure we moored at Ranworth Island. The main thing I remember about the mooring was the number of boats that tied up and then very soon departed on realising that there was no land access to the village. The result was a very quite night despite it being high summer.
Next day, after consulting the tide tables the plan now was to spend the night at Acle or Stokesby so as to be able to set out for Yarmouth to pass through around slack water. After another quick trip back to Wilds yard at Horning to top up the water again we headed toward Yarmouth. Acle was crowded and there seemed to be nowhere to moor. Approaching Stracey Arms it seemed there was still space to moor so rather than risk not being able to moor at Stokesby the night was spent by the windmill. It was now Friday and this was going to be a long day. Setting off for Yarmouth we passed through without incident and headed across Breydon. It was like being on a motorway as we headed across. There were just so many cruisers about many of them seemingly taking the opportunity to open up the throttle and race across at top speed. A brief stop was made at St Olaves and then we proceeded up river stopping at Burgh St Peter for lunch. Continuing on our journey a couple of hours later we at last saw the tower of Beccles church and soon were at the bridge. No problem getting under and soon Beccles was astern. At last we reached the dyke leading to Geldeston where the intention was to spend the night at the Rowan Craft Yard.
Shortly before the yard I noticed a low bridge; I think an old railway bridge. There was a large notice advising craft to use a new channel that had been dug to the left of this bridge. However as we followed this rather tight artificial cut it was just too shallow. The boat was scraping on the bottom. In the end I reversed back out and took the risk of going straight under the bridge. No problem at all and at last we were in the yard and suitably moored for the night.
Next morning as there was a few hours to kill before my parents arrived we decided on a short trip back down river. Oh dear! How I wished we had not done so. My friend was at the helm as I cast off, unfortunately I had not noticed that after using the dinghy the night before the oars were still in the rowlocks and protruding from the side. I looked in horror as the end of the oar caught under the piling. I was too late in running to the front of the boat to get my friends attention and with a sickening sound the oar was snapped in half. Having retrieved both halves of the broken oar we still went on a short trip before coming back into the yard to wait for my parents. Whilst we were waiting I decided to try and do something about the broken oar. It was split rather than a straight break so I had an idea that with a suitable length of rope I could use a bit of whipping to hold the two parts together. Asking at the yard if they would sell me a few feet of rope I was presented with a suitable length with their compliments and no charge. Soon I had finished my rope work on the oar and surprisingly the whipping held for the rest of the holiday and enabled us to row the dinghy much as normal.
My parents arrived with my younger brother. He is actually considerably younger than
me and at this time was about 7-
What happened next left us stunned.
A woman appeared on the deck of the said cruiser and hands on hips she proceeded to shout abuse at us accusing us of causing the damage by doing something with our dinghy. Explanations that it was the rescue boat just fell on deaf ears. If you could imagine Nora Batty on steroids I think you would have some idea of what we were subjected to. Eventually she stopped shouting and disappeared below, leaving us in stunned silence. As we prepared to cast off, the ferocious lady on the next boat once again appeared on deck. This time however she remained silent and as we set off across the broad she fixed us with a look that could kill. She was still standing there glowering as we took a last look astern before heading for Oulton Dyke.
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During the trip back to Geldeston the boat seemed to be lacking in power. Nothing appeared untoward and there was no indication of overheating or other problem. We stopped at Aston Boats in Beccles to top up the water tank and exchanged a few words with the harbour master who has just come across from the yacht station. Surprisingly he remembered us from the previous year when we had spent some time in conversation with him. Casting off again all seemed to be ok apart from the lack of power. We guessed that the problem might be an accumulation of weed on the prop so made up our minds that once we had dropped off my parents we would have a go with the boathook and try and clear it. Parents now departed the boathook was dug out and a bit of probing around the propeller soon indicated that there was nothing fouling it. Maybe it was just imagination that the power was lacking and it was the effect of the current now we had been heading upstream.