Saxon Shore 2

 

It is lift out time in Conyer Creek. The high tide is at its peak . Lapping almost level with the top timber baulks, at North Quay. A crane hired in for the day. Craft waiting their turn, to come ashore for the winter. 

A low golden sun picks out the brightwork, on a traditionally styled cutter. Most likely, from her form, long keeled, but possibly a centre boarder, like the boat being lifted. All craft, moored at these pontoons, must take the ground, below half tide.

For, twice a day, this creek dries two metres above chart datum, to an unctuous East Coast ooze. Flat bottomed, steel, dutch built barges, more at home on the Rhine than the London River, lie moored in front of Conyer's whitewashed brick houses. 

Throughout the Industrial Revolution, Thames Sailing Barges carried household cinders and the spoil from London glass and ceramic works, to kilns, at the head of this creek . Here bricks were fired, their recycled ingredients lending them a characteristic yellow hue .

Neat 'traditional' clapperboard houses now occupy the site of those brickworks. Keeping the creek alive with bustling boat traffic.

Working seafarers replaced by leisure sailors.

One aspect of life remains constant, however: The Ship Inn, stands foursquare at the head of the creek, still slaking the thirsts of mariners, whatever their motivation for putting to sea.

Tempted though I am, I cannot tarry. A phone call, from Chatham, informs me that a hire crane (brought in to clear the backlog of boats, created by the breakdown of the marina's own) is running ahead of schedule. There is a possibility that Stargazer could be lifted this afternoon. If I am available to bring her round.

Swiftly, I return to Chatham’s naval dry dock. 

A tall, scarlet jibbed, crane is at work, before the intricately figured Victorian brickwork, of the former dockyard pump house. Now home to the Copper Rivet gin distillery cum restaurant; it’s yard the convivial winter quarters, for boats coming ashore.

On, throughout the afternoon, the crane and its driver toil. With Emma, the Marina Manager, tailing on (front left) and Wayne, the Yard Supervisor (aft of rudder) as a jack-in-the-box banksman. One moment prostrate on the dock (previous picture), to check the slinging, the next leaping up onto the quay, to steady the swing.

All the while, the sun sinks inexorably toward the western horizon. And the skies blacken, above Upnor village, promising squalls. Dusk falls and the wind rises. Stargazer must wait for another day, for her lift. Perhaps in a fortnight, when the hire crane is next available. Perhaps sooner, if the marina crane can be repaired.