A "Moth" In The Moonlight.

The phone rang on Sunday morning.
"Would you like a trip on White Moth?" asked the person at the other end.

"Would the cat like another goldfish?" I thought to myself.
Too right it would.

"White Moth" was moored at the Cantley "Reedcutters"  She had just completed a weeks charter and was on the way home.  The volunteers, who had put in some really hard work over the  last twelve months, were being offered the trip from Cantley to Acle in appreciation of their efforts.

Slack water at the Vauxhall bridge in Great Yarmouth was expected at about four thirty in the afternoon this determined that the days sailing would end at Acle bridge.
During my unspectacular career afloat I have only crossed Breydon on three previous occasions.    This trip would be my first time under sail and I was really looking forward to it.

I joined "White Moth" on her mooring just before midday on August 20th.  Gently rising and falling in the wake of passing cruisers she looked a picture of Edwardian elegance. I stowed my cameras and equipment below in one of the cabins.  The whole interior of the Wherry yacht consists of varnished wood panelling and brass fittings.  Forward in the main saloon stood a five octave piano.  The piano would have provided the evening entertainment in the 1920's and cost an extra few shillings per week  as an optional extra.

"White Moth" may be coming up to her 100th birthday but she is still, most definitely, a working boat.

Just after midday we cast off, a stiff breeze carried us swiftly past the sugar factory toward Reedham. We glided past the "Ferry Inn" and through the open swing bridge toward Breydon.

Through Reedham Swing Bridge

A freshening wind on a beautiful summers day.  Sailing through a never ending carpet of rural views stretching out in every direction and coloured in shades of green, gold and blue.  The silence only broken by the sound of water rippling along the hull and an occasional flapping sail.
Absolutely priceless!

 

A Beautiful Summers Day

Past Polkeys mill and the Berney Arms, as we reached Breydon the wind dropped dramatically, hardly enough strength to fill "White Moth's" sail.  The people on board who knew what they were talking about assured us we would pick up the sea breeze once we were out on Breydon.

The Wind Dropped Dramatically.

There was barely a breath of wind on Breydon, we kept station with two of  Hunters "Hustler" class sailing boats who like us were hardly making any headway.
Conditions were so still we were able to hold a conversation with them.  Then as predicted the wind began to freshen and fill the sails. gradually the little "Hustlers" pulled away.

The "Hustlers" Pulled Away.

In the strengthening wind the "Hustlers" decided to enjoy themselves and turned about to make the most of the conditions.  They sped past us creating a substantial bow wave.  "White Moth" continued on her way between the mud banks with feeding Lapwings and Avocets on either side.

Enjoying The Conditions.

With the sail and the mast lowered we passed under the Breydon Road bridge, and turned into the Bure.  The tide was running very fast under the Vauxhall bridge, it was quite clear we would have to wait for slack water.  "White Moth" was skillfully moored against the quay. The gas was lit under the kettle there would be more than enough time for a brew while we waited. 

It was early evening by the time the flow of water slowed to a trickle and we set off again.
"White Moth" was fairly gliding along the Bure on a stiff breeze.  It was now much cooler after the heat of the day, with very little sound save the rippling water, a flapping canvas and a dog barking somewhere in the distance.

Gliding Along The Bure.

The sun was getting ever lower in the evening sky.  Swallows swooped and dived in and out of the reeds, an unseen fish made rings in the calm water ahead of "White Moth's" bow wave.  Bemused cattle watched from the bank as we silently passed by.

The Setting Sun.

A warm glow lit the Western sky and detailed shapes stood stark against the setting sun.   "White Moth" sailed past lines of cruisers moored for the night.  In the gathering gloom nature's night shift was clocking on.  An owl skimmed over the marsh while the last of the swallows made best use of the fading light.

Shapes Stood Stark Against The Setting Sun.

A full moon was rising astern of us, casting a silver light on the water that rippled in our wake.  The reed beds were now black silhouettes lining the margins of the river.  The lights of the Ferry Inn at Stokesby lit up the darkness as it drifted by on our starboard.  Then gradually the old wherrymans pub receded  into the darkness as "White Moth" continued on her way.

The "Moth" In The Moonlight

The night air was turning cold  
It was quite dark when we arrived at Acle bridge, "White Moth" turned through 180 degrees and gently drew alongside the quay.  I had been on board this wonderful old vessel for ten hours and I was sorry we had reached our journeys end.   I shall always remember the "Moth" in the moonlight.

To see "Albion" making a similar journey click the links below.

http://bigskyproductions-jonno.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/albions-home-run.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btc7zyIpSOc

"Albion's" Home Run.

On Saturday, December 8th, I joined a volunteer crew from the Norfolk Wherry Trust to bring "Albion" home from Oulton Broad.  Albion had been at Excelsior's yard on Lake Lothing for winter maintenance. She became stranded at Oulton Broad due to bridge repairs on the Waveney and the Bure.

At 8am, seven volunteers and their equipment were dropped off at Oulton Broad yacht station and the cars departed leaving the crew to make "Albion" ready for her return to base.
The plan was to cross Breydon and reach Great Yarmouth at slack water, and be back at Ludham before dark.

Early morning at Oulton Broad

Every member of the crew knew exactly what was needed and set about their tasks.  Most of them had made this trip several times before.   The frosty morning had covered "Albion's" plank-ways and hatches with a  veneer of ice, making movement around the vessel quite treacherous.
Everyone of the crew were either Skippers or Mates - I was the only "Greenhorn" on board.
My job was to record the journey.  For my part in the proceedings conditions could not have been better.   No wind, crystal clear light and winter sun - absolutely perfect.

"Albion's" mast had been removed for overhaul some weeks earlier, so "Badger", a motor cruiser, was tied alongside to power the wherry on the return journey.

Making ready.

 "Badger" and "Albion" had an overall beam of twenty six feet, with "Badger" providing the power and "Albion" providing the steerage.  Additional power, if required, could be supplied from "Albion's" tender hitched to the stern of the wherry.  After about forty minutes preparation our little flotilla cast off.

The tender was quickly pressed into service nudging "Albion's" bow through forty five degrees until she came about and headed toward Oulton Dyke.

Great shots from the tender

I was able to get some some great shots from the tender as it manoeuvred around the wherry.  Then we were back on board and heading up the Waveney toward Great Yarmouth.

This was the first time I had travelled on this stretch of water so everything around me was very fresh and new.  From a photography point of view, if I did this trip one hundred times, the light and conditions would never be as good as this again.

River as calm as a mill pond

Ahead of us the river was as calm as a mill pond, golden coloured reeds reflected in the still water as we glided by - absolutely priceless!    Astern of us the wake from "Badger" glistened in the early morning sun.

Through St Olaves bridge and past Burgh Castle, "Badger's" engine never faltered, we were bang on schedule to reach the Breydon bridge at slack water.

St Olaves

There was a burst of activity on the plank-way as chains and mudweights were deployed, in case they were needed.

Chains and mudweights.

 Across the desolate, but strangely beautiful mudflats of Breydon.  Experienced eyes noted the tide was slowing by watching the current flowing around the navigation posts.   Under Breydon bridge at 12.10 - perfect timing.

Breydon - desolate and beautiful.

  Next, the old Vauxhall railway bridge, we were on time, on the Bure and on our way home.
 "Badger's" engine note changed tune as the "wick was turned up".  Behind our flotilla the wake was decidedly more agitated as our speed increased. Home before dark was the plan.   The sun was following an ever lowering arc creating longer shadows but still perfect for filming.

Albion at Acle bridge.

The cold air was beginning to nip fingertips by Stokesby and one last foray in the tender captured great footage of "Albion" shooting Acle bridge.  A setting sun made the water sparkle and "Albion's" crew became silhouettes against an evening sky of burnished gold and blue.

The crew became silhouettes

Into the Thurne and faithful old "Badger" was cast off and literally drifted off into the sunset.  The tender's outboard powered "Albion" on the last leg of the journey along the narrow channel of Womack water.  Six and half hours after leaving Oulton Broad "Albion" was home.

"Badger" drifted off into the sunset

For the folk who regularly sail the Norfolk and Suffolk waterways I guess this journey would be nothing out of the ordinary.  But for this "Geenhorn" sailor it is a trip I shall always remember.

To see a video clip   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btc7zyIpSOc

 

Vanishing Species

I started filming local crafts and traditions to capture them before they disappeared completely.

I hardly expected the losses to take effect quite so soon, before I had finished the film in fact.

On Saturday evening I dined with the eel-catcher who appears in the film.   During the course of the evening  the conversation inevitably turned to eels.  It seems that eel numbers have declined so much over recent years that they are in danger of becoming extinct.  I guess the majority of anglers will welcome this news.

Eels found in the East Anglian rivers (Anguilla anguilla) breed out in the Sargasso Sea, in an area between Bermuda and Puerto Rico.  The tiny eels are carried by the Gulf Stream until they reach the coasts of  Europe as two or three year old elvers.   They will spend the next twelve years living and growing in our rivers until they are mature enough to return to the Sargasso sea to breed.

The mature silver eels move down river on their way to the distant spawning grounds in late summer and autumn, mainly at night.

 Anguilla Anguilla

Two factors have conspired to threaten the species.  The first is a virus that effects the swim bladder of the eels.  The second is the export of the small elvers which are considered a delicacy and command a high price.   Both these factors result in fewer eels reaching maturity to return to the Sargasso to breed.  It is quite probable that children three generations on will never see a live eel and it is a racing certainty they will never see a live eel catcher.

During the early part of the nineteenth century there was an abundance of eels in the East Anglian waterways.  Some eel catchers made a living by trapping this remarkable fish while the marshman was probably satisfied with taking an eel or two for his family needs with an eel pick.

The Eel pick was a long handled tool with springy tines.   This method was used in shallow inland waters and salt water estuaries.  The eel catcher would look for bubbles from the eel’s fore and aft blow holes.  He would then strike with the pick, if done correctly the tool would be removed with an eel trapped between the tines.   Herons use their bills in the same way.

 Eel Pick

At the end of the nineteenth century catches were recorded by the stone.  In 1914 one eel catcher landed 129 stone of eels in a season.  

The biggest eel ever caught was in 1738 – it weighed sixty two pounds and measured twenty six inches around its girth.   

Ely in Cambridgeshire was once known as the Isle of Eels before steam power was used to drain the surrounding fens.  Such was the value of eels in the 11th century, that they were accepted as payment for taxes to the crown.

One hundred years ago many eel catchers lived aboard small boats out on the broads and estuaries; they used nets and traps to catch saleable volumes of eel.

Eel traps or hives, were made from willow with a conical funnel at the base and  a bung at the neck.  The funnel allowed the eel to squeeze into the trap but once inside it could not get out.  

Willow Eel Hive

The same principal is applied to fyke nets.   

The fyke net is a long net supported by metal hoops with three funnels or purses at the end, a long runner guides the eels into the purse and traps them in the same way as the old willow traps. 

My Eel-catcher friend assured me that eel numbers have declined by some eighty five per cent in the last few years - no species can survive those kind of losses.  Catches of eels are down year on year to a point when it is no longer viable to catch them for profit.

Long gone are the days when boxes of eels covered in wet sacks would be sent by rail to London to provide the capital with their diet of  "jellied eels"   Unless some form of conservation is rapidly deployed we will lose these remarkable creatures.  


Sadly it seems my trips out with the eel catcher on those long summer evenings are already a thing of the past.

Breydon

Sunday 24th July  2011.

The first time I saw Breydon water was many years ago as a child, it was an August bank holiday.  Mum and dad, armed with a shopping bag full of sandwiches and orange juice, took us kids to Great Yarmouth for the day.    The train steamed along the edge of Breydon water where wading birds foraged in the mud  and the green grey water ebbed out through the channel.  I looked out of the carriage window completely captivated by this mysterious stretch of water and vowed I would cross it one day.

More years than I care to remember have flown by since I made that promise to myself.  It is more than likely I would not have made the trip this summer had it not been for the fact that the wherry "Maud" was scheduled to cross Breydon,  it was a film opportunity too good to miss.

First priority was to find a boat and skipper.  I posted on the Norfolk Broads forum to see if anyone could help, within an hour I had three offers.   I accepted Lord Paul of Sealand's kind offer and for the following two weeks watched the long range forecasts for Great Yarmouth with more hope than expectation.

The day of the shoot arrived and I met up with Lord Paul and "Mistral" moored at the Fisherman's Inn, Burgh Castle.   We chatted over a cup of coffee while we waited for low tide and a call from the "Maud".  The call duly arrived and we set off  for the New Haven Bridge.   It took an hour to cross Breydon and fulfill at least one childhood ambition.

                                                   It was a perfect day for yachtsmen.

It was a perfect day for yachtsmen. a North Westerly was cutting across Breydon at 34 kph raising white caps and buffeting "Mistral" who rode serenely through water.
As we approached the New Haven Bridge we could see "Maud"s great black sail away in the distance, everything was falling into place.  We arrived at the bridge and waited for "Maud" to appear, then we got another call.  The wherry could not get under Vauxhall bridge, so they would have to wait for low water and try again the following day.  

Lord Paul turned "Mistral" about and headed back to Burgh Castle,  We were both disappointed to say the least.  To make it worse as we returned across Breydon the sun broke through and the wind moderated - perfect conditions for filming.  Even though I had failed to get the shots I came for I enjoyed my day out with Paul on "Mistral"

                                                         Perfect conditions for filming.

Plan B was quickly put together.  Lord Paul and "Mistral" were leaving Breydon on the morning tide so my only option was to shoot the wherry from the Breydon wall this was assuming they could get under Vauxhall bridge.

Next day  (Monday 25th  July) A North Westerly gusting to about 30 mph - very dull with fine drizzle at times.
Conditions for filming absolutely atrocious.
I parked at Church Farm, Burgh Castle, loaded my trolley with equipment and set off for the Breydon wall.
After a hike of about a mile and a half I found a spot which gave a good view in both directions, I set the camera up got out my folding chair and waited - and waited - and waited.    Then the call from "Maud" - they were still waiting at the Vauxhall bridge.   The tide was rising - the wind was strengthening - the light was getting dimmer by the minute and my spirits were fading with the light.     I pulled my collar up, turned my back to the wind and waited alone on the Breydon wall - for two hours - in a gale - I must be nuts! 
Then another call from "Maud" they were under the bridge and on their way.  A few minutes later I could see her sail in the murky distance.     Very slowly "Maud" approached the headland where I was waiting.  A fine drizzle was blowing straight onto the lens,  the gusting wind rocked the camera making it impossible to take a steady shot on the 20x zoom.  "Maud" was well within range - if only there was a break in the cloud and a gap in the wind, I would have settled for just thirty seconds - but no such luck.   I knew it was going to be difficult to get anything at all in these conditions.

The wind did not relent, the light did not improve - but I did  get a few worthwhile shots.  Good enough to include in the film?  Probably not.    But "Maud" has to make the return trip across Breydon and I shall be waiting. 

                               "Maud" hauled out for maintenance at Burgh Castle.


Many thanks to Lord Paul and the owners and crew of "Maud" for their help and support through a very tough weekend.       For my part it has to go down as an heroic failure.