An English Summer 33

 

Flexen is high and dry, on the reef, off Crows Island, in Old Grimsby Sound. Her crew, back aboard, to attempt to refloat her, on the afternoon tide. Their first job is to check for holing or leaks, as the waters rise around her. Given her ordeal, she has come off lightly. Her long keel, and workboat lines, lying in a natural cleft, in the rock, which almost seems to cradle her. Her hull form, and providence, have saved her and her crew.

The St Mary's offshore lifeboat is back in attendance, but anchored off, behind Stargazer. The waters, of the reef, too shallow for her, at this stage of the tide. The, shoal draft, Tresco jet RIB (Rigid-Hull Inflatable Boat), more suited to the work, ferries her crew back aboard. As surf continues to break, on the outer reef, behind them.

In the cold light of dawn, at the end of a night's vigil, on anchor watch, I am able to make sense of events, during the hours of darkness:

02.00  Awoken by the shriek of the wind, the grind of the anchor chain and Stargazer's pitching motion. The storm is at its height. Now blowing from the north. I don foul weather gear and sit, on the top step of the companionway, monitoring our position, relative to a light burning in a house window, ashore. To confirm that Stargazer's anchor is holding. Ready to climb on deck, to start the engine, if it does not.

03.00 Aware of a powerful motor vessel, circling Stargazer. At first I think it is a Linssen, which dragged earlier in the night, back again. Then, a parachute flare is launched, illuminating the heaving spume swept anchorage. In its light I can see the St Mary's offshore lifeboat. Patrolling along 'our' side of the reef, which separates Old Grimsby from St Helen's Pool. After half an hour, the lifeboat repeats the process, on the St Helen's side. Before leaving, at speed.

04.00 The wind is now west of north, going more westerly all the time. We are now fully in the lee of Tresco. Riding out strong gusts, rather than storm force blasts. Dawn is breaking. I first see Flexen, stranded, with fully two metres of tide yet to fall. And surmise that the life boat took her crew off, from the St Helen's side of the reef, before putting them ashore, at St Mary's . Flexen left to fend for herself.

Yesterday afternoon, the gale began, as forecast, at fifteen hundred. But from the east, rather than south east. The direction of least protection, for this anchorage. Through the sheeting rain, I watch as Stargazer swings closer and closer, to the rocks which surround the Ruin Beach slipway. And the tide falls. My eyes flick from tide height prediction, to depth guage, recalculating our keel clearance, over the outlying shoals, every half hour. We never drop below a one point five metre clearance, my cutoff for action.

Stargazer holds station, forty metres off the rocks. Closer than I would have chosen. But far enough for safety, provided I am ready to act, if necessary. Supper is postponed, until the calm eye of the storm passes overhead, at twenty hundred, and anchor watch can be suspended.

This evening, Stargazer lies in the shelter, of the same crags, which so nearly wrecked Flexen. Her hood up, deflecting the gusts, which still roll off the Tresco shore. Diminished but forceful. The sun is out once more. Shore leave is resumed, with a row ashore, to meet up with Martyn and Hilly, off Styria. To compare our tales, of 'the night of the great storm.'