Chapter 5

Thursday.

In the morning, Denise and Joe were up first, a little after dawn. In early April, it's twilight from just after five, but dawn isn't until around half-six, so they were on deck as the sun, bright gold, was showing to the east. The air had that clarity you only see after rain, and it would have been cold had there been any wind at all, but it was flat calm. The water around them was like a mirror between expanses of mud, but if you watched carefully, you'd be able to tell the tide was rising, the water gradually creeping across the mud.

Denise snuggled up to Joe and wrapped her arm round him. "Wow..." She took several deep breaths. "The air's like wine, isn't it?"

"It is."

"I'm so glad I met you. I dread to think what my life would have been without you; I certainly wouldn't ever have thought of doing this."

They stood like that, looking round. The world wasn't entirely still; waders were poking around in the mud at the edge of the water. Denise looked up at the sky, which was clear and very blue. "What's that?" she was pointing at a bird circling high overhead. It had long, narrow wings, a short body and fan-shaped tail, but other than that it was just a silhouette.

Joe followed her gesture. "An Osprey, I think. A sea-eagle. It'll be making its way north. From Africa. They breed in Scotland, mainly, but there are a few that nest in northern England."

"Trust you to know that. I'm hungry, though."

"We can do something about that."

They had, in fact, about finished eating when Nadiya entered, closely followed by the skipper, both of them quiet and pensive. CC, though, shook himself. "Sorry," he muttered, "I need to check the weather. I didn't wake in time for the shipping forecast."

"Usual breakfast?" Nadiya asked, as he delved in a locker.

"Yeah," as he emerged with a laptop and satellite phone, and carried them to the chart-table. Several minutes later, "Two to three from the west. Joe ... perhaps you ... no, perhaps Denise would like to help change the head-sail. We'll have the number one Genoa on today. It doesn't get much use, usually. Too big and too light. There's plenty of time, high water isn't until after ten."

There ensued some discussion as to what best to do ... that day and for the rest of the week. It was decided that they would aim to finish at Maldon on Saturday, about lunch-time, and CC would run Denise and Joe back to Ipswich after they'd eaten. That being the case, they thought a run up the Orwell to have lunch at the 'Butt and Oyster' at Pin Mill would be good. Once Nadiya and CC had eaten their breakfast, Nadiya and Denise went on deck to unbend the staysail, while CC and Joe extracted the number one Genoa from the locker in the fore-cabin, and passed it up through the hatch in the foredeck.

Then they followed the ladies on deck and sat on the coach-roof to watch them. Even in the unflattering, almost shapeless, clothing they used for sailing, they were well worth watching.

"Nadiya is a beautiful young woman," Joe commented, "bright, as well, not to mention brave."

"She is," CC sighed. "your wife is pretty gorgeous, too. You're a lucky man."

"I am. When are you two going to tie the knot?"

"I'm not sure we are. I asked her, but she doesn't think she's good enough for me."

"That's ridiculous."

"I know. Trouble is, she's not wrong about some things. My family won't accept her. I don't mind about that. I want her anyway. She just thinks she won't fit into the life of a solicitor."

Joe grunted. "Shall I ask Denise to have a word with her?"

CC sighed again. "I don't know that it'd do any good. On the other hand, I don't see it could do any harm, either. Okay. If she will."

As they were sitting there, a breeze ruffled the surface of the water.

"We're going to need more than that," Joe commented.

"Absolutely. Serendipity's never been a fast boat. She can stand a deal of wind, but doesn't do well with light airs. If the forecast is correct, we'll have enough shortly."

While they were talking, the girls had the big sail bent on and tensioned, the sheets hooked to the clew, and the sail furled. Denise walked back to Joe and plunked herself in his lap. "Are you two going to sit and jaw all morning, or are we going to go sailing?"

Nadiya stood there, looking at them, until CC patted his knees and opened his arms in invitation. She folded herself into his embrace. It looked to Denise and Joe as if she belonged there; not withstanding the ... significant ... difference in size between the Skipper and his Mate. They sat there, enjoying the cool morning, and the clear air and sunlight, until CC looked up at the burgee (which was fluttering out) and glanced at his watch.

"I think we could probably be getting under way," he announced. "Why don't you and Denise get the sails up, Mister Mate, while Joe and I deal with the anchor?"

"Aye, aye, Skipper."

With the big head sail, there was just enough wind to give Serendipity steerage way. For the uninitiated, a boat has to move through the water at a certain minimum speed for the rudder to work – she has to have sufficient 'way' on to be controlled. In fact, some, like Serendipity will, if there isn't enough wind, just turn to face what wind there is and ignore anything the rudder is doing. Anyway, as they were leaving their anchorage at high water, the boat was moving at perhaps two knots through the water.

Progress was ... okay ... as far as the Pye End buoy, which took an hour. Then they had to turn north, heading into Harwich Haven, and facing the ebb tide. The maybe three knots over the ground became maybe one. It was past twelve-thirty by the time they passed the North Shelf buoy.

"It'd be silly trying to cross the Stour at this speed," CC announced. "Let's drop the hook and wait for the tide. Have supper at Pin Mill, instead of lunch."

It didn't take long to settle Serendipity with a rough stow, and after a brief word with Denise, who went with Nadiya to see about food, Joe turned to CC.

"Are you going to repair that Genoa?"

CC shrugged. "I'll take it to Bert to see what he thinks ... whether it's worth the trouble of repair."

"You won't do it?"

"I'm no sail-maker."

"Oh. Well, if you've got needles, thread and a palm, I'll do it. If you've got some scraps of sailcloth, I could do a better job."

"There's a housewife, with sail-maker's needles, waxed threads, and a palm. And a roll of repair tape. That's only light stuff, for a spinnaker, but it would do to strengthen a repair."

"There you go. I'd guess it's the most useful head sail you've got, so it'd be a pity to be without it."

Joe began work on the big sail as the ladies were cooking. The tear was over six inches long, with clear evidence of stretched fabric beyond that. Only quick reactions when the damage began had saved a much more serious problem. He began with a neat herring-bone pattern to draw the torn edges together, getting the tension very carefully right to prevent rucks. He then applied the sticky repair tape to both sides, by which time lunch was ready.

Thick, hot soup; cheese sandwiches. Simple, but satisfying.

Sailcloth, usually artificial fibres these days, is quite hard to sew, whether canvas or modern fabric. For hand stitching, a 'palm' is used, which serves the same purpose as a seamstress' thimble. But it's a device that fits over the right thumb and pads the palm of the hand, with a reinforced cup in the middle. The needles are triangular in section, but like ordinary needles, come in different gauges and lengths to suit different threads. The thread is usually waxed, which is protection and also helps the thread to slide.

Nadiya and CC had watched sails being hand-stitched before, and merely half-watched from the other side of the cockpit. Denise, however, was fascinated – and impressed – as Joe stitched a triangular pattern round the edge of the patch.

"Is there no end to your talents?"

"Absolutely!" He glanced up at her from his labours, his hands stilled for the moment. "I don't dance, play a musical instrument, or speak any language but English. My gardening skills are restricted to cutting grass. I've known five-year-olds who can draw better than me. Need I go on?"

"No, silly. You've got the talent that matters most to me."

"Oh?"

"You make me feel beautiful, and loved."

Something in her voice, more than just her words, made his eyes prickle.

By three in the afternoon, the wind had strengthened and although the ebb was still flowing for another hour or so, the current was much diminished, so as Joe continued to push the needle through the sailcloth, the other three got Serendipity under way.

It was a close reach from the Shelf past Shotley Spit, then they couldn't quite make good a course to pass Fagbury Point. However, one tack, complicated by the big head sail sheet catching on the drum of a winch on the main mast, saw them free to Collimer Point. That took just over an hour. The next stretch, Long Reach and Buttermans Bay, headed west-north-west, and required them to beat. The two miles took almost two hours, even though the tide had changed and what current there was helped.

The problem was that big head-sail. Serendipity just couldn't sail as close to the wind with that sail as she could with a smaller one. And the sail seemed to be reluctant to behave as it should. The second time the sheet caught on the winch-drum, CC turned to Joe as he returned from freeing it, and said, "Now you can see why this sail doesn't get much use."

Joe nodded. "I can see how it'd be great for light weather if you're staying on the same tack for hours. Why not change for the number two? I've done all I can for it."

That was a short tack across the river and the sheet caught again, so they changed the head sail for the repaired one. There was no difficulty in picking up a buoy at Pin Mill, though the current flowing faster by that point required them to pass the moorings, drop the mainsail and turn into the current. Partly furling the head sail gave sufficient control over the boat's speed through the water to permit an easy pick-up.

They did a rough stow and rowed ashore to the hard, pulled the tender well up and secured it to a post. In the pub, Nadiya, Denise and CC had Sea Bass ... Joe preferred steak-and-ale pie. Both men had beer – just one pint – while the girls got giggly on red wine. By the time they were on their way back to the boat, the girls were, as the saying goes, 'feeling no pain'. It was not entirely straightforward getting them back on board...