Diary

Cooking On The Norfolk Broads

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How To make Dinner without Blowing The Bloody Boat Up.

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Wednesday June 23

Breakfast
Lunch – Pub – The Bell, St. Olaves
Dinner – Lemon Chicken with Garlic

We all got up by 6 am even the rain had stopped and the wind calmed slightly. After a full-blown English breakfast we motored down to Great Yarmouth and again took the mast down before going through the bridges at Yarmouth.

I hadn’t been through Yarmouth for about ten years and a new road bridge has been built just before Breydon water so I decided to check with the Harbour Master about going through the bridges. He was helpful and gave me a map showing the route and a place where we could put the mast up after the new road bridge.

All I can say is that the chap who wrote the map has never been to Yarmouth, as I couldn’t find a good place to put the stick up, apart from tying up to one of the channel markers. Something that I would normally do, but with two kids on board and the wind getting stronger we went across Breydon with the mast down, life jackets on, and moored up at the Berney Arms to put it back up.

By this time the wind was just starting to howl. And a large black cloud was getting ever larger. The aforementioned cloud was to follow us for the next two weeks in various forms. My assumption was that it was my ex wife who was due to arrive in the UK shortly. Now don’t get me wrong, I do have a soft spot for my ex, but it’s a rather nasty peat bog just off Ranworth Broad.

Howling is one of those words that really needs to be better defined. The howling was only really noticeable when we started to put the mast up and the rigging started to moan in the wind. In fact we found it hard to get the mast seated in it’s gate because of the wind pressure on the mast. So yet again we decided that sailing was still a no go for a while – lets go to the pub.

The Bell at St. Olaves is a cozy little boozer, great beer, food and staff, and was just a short walk from where we moored up before taking the mast down – again. Also the black cloud had gone from ominous to spitting.

As usual the food selection was excellent, but as we were just taking a short break we opted for Scampi and Chips. Now while we where enjoying our lunch a couple of Hooray Henries in Business suits came in for lunch. After glancing over at us, and the menu, one announced to the other, “.. I was going to have the goat’s cheese pizza, but I think I’ll go for the Scampi and Chips – So Decadent! …. “ , what a Prat.

We again had trouble getting the mast up against the wind, and the spitting had turned into horizontal drizzle. The sort of rain that penetrates everything. So again under motor we headed for Oulton Broad.

There was still another bridge to go through but the railway bridge at Somerlyton is a swing bridge. All we had to do was wait in front of the bridge until the operator noticed us and when it’s safe he opens the bridge. Sounds simple in theory, but on this day it was a rather different matter. Even though I was using the motor, it was having a hard time going against the wind, in fact I had to tack with the motor just to try and keep on station. Another cruiser was also waiting and he was having a harder time due to the amount of freeboard on his boat. Over the next half an hour of waiting for the sodding bridge to open I got to know the skipper of the cruiser rather well.

We intended to do some food shopping and see if we could pick up some foul weather gear at a decent price, before heading further south. Or calling it quits for the day and overnight at Oulton.

The yacht station at Oulton is rather small and stern on mooring is required. Now one of the very minor drawbacks to the design of Lapwing is that the engine is in the forepeak (the small area between the mast and the bow) and the prop goes into the water roughly amidships. So when you are backing up you need to get a bit of speed going before you can get steerage.

The harbour master noticed me starting to do my line up to moor stern on and waved me over to moor at the jetty. I assumed that he was doing this because he’s seen me moor before and wanted to reduce the damage to the surrounding boats. He helped us moor up and was admiring the yacht before I could even turn the engine off. Everywhere we stopped people would come up to us with questions about the boat, and this was no exception. After going through the ritual Q&A session the chap did one of those looks, over both shoulders and behind me. The sort of look someone does before telling an off colour joke.

“So Sir, you have heard the weather forecast then?”

Well I hadn’t as our radio only seemed to pick up one station, and that morning they appeared to be airing repeats of “Come Dancing”, a show that looses any appeal it ever had when broadcast on the radio.

“Well sir, you don’t want to be staying here for long – you need to be getting somewhere safe”

At this point I wasn’t paying much attention really, as the idea of having to find safe harbour on the Broads sounded crazy, but a few words did enter my subconscious, such as “…gales…”, “….at least force seven…”, “… next of kin…..”.

So with that, Bonnie dashed off to get supplies and I headed to Jeckalls for foul weather gear.

As we started to motor out of Oulton Braod I had already donned the waterproof jacket, and by the time we had got to Oulton Dyke Bonnie was fitting the legging portion of the foul weather gear on me.

It started pissing down. The sort of rain that not only comes down in sheets but also manages to bounce off the water so it ends up with what looks like a layer of fog about a foot from the water. Bonnie came out to keep me company, but after getting soaked through to the skin in about four seconds I sent her below to be with the kids.

The harbour master had suggested that Beccles should be sheltered enough for us to ride out the storm, and that there where moorings right before the bridge for yachts and boats that couldn’t pass under the bridges. Well when we got to Beccles these moorings had been taken up by wankers in cruisers who seemed unable to read the signs about who could moor there. Luckily I had noticed a stand of trees that sheltered a small section of bank a few miles back, so I turned around and headed there. As it turns out this was a great plan. The trees blocked the wind and the mooring was perfect, although I was slightly paranoid with the mooring using three rond anchors and the mud plug in case the wind changed.

Comments

From - LizzieT Posted On 10 Oct 2004

My dad (Richard T) is a really good chef even though he almost set fire to our kicthen when he was trying to mke yorkshore pudding.

From - roy abrahams Posted On 20 Aug 2004

hallo out there just a quick comment i moved to norfolk in 1969 just to be near the broads and my wife and i will be having our 52nd holiday on the broads this xmas our 4th xmas on a boat its just brill its just a shame to see so many boat yards closing many of them old friends over the years if you have took the time to read this thank you and keep on boating

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