Chapter 6

Helen Firth married Geoffrey Billings on the first Saturday in February, Dulcie Chesterman officiating. The bride wore a royal blue gown, though under it were thermals in recognition of the time of year; the weather outside was clear, sunny, and bitterly cold and the church was difficult to heat effectively. Geoff was, for once, in a dark suit. The church was more than half full; friends and family from both sides (Edith Firth had tracked down school-friends of Helen’s with whom she’d lost contact and who had wanted to come) and a significant number of locals who had taken Helen and Geoff into their hearts. Helen wore an ivory veil, loaned by Delia Westwood, secured by a tiara from Gillian Bennett, and was attended by one small bridesmaid, little, blonde Karen, and Sasha Stevenson as matron of honour. There was another guest there, smiling, but only one or two of those attending knew he was there. The others might have been shocked by his jeans and checked shirt.

The honeymoon was spent, of necessity, in London. Geoff was scheduled to face the Board in Thurrock to gain his Master’s certificate so he could skipper Thames barges. It was hardly a formality, but he passed. “They asked me what I’d do if my Mate reported water over the ceiling* in the saloon while we were off Walton, heading north in a strong sou-westerly.”

*In a Thames barge, the ‘ceiling’ is actually the floor. Don’t ask me why. In a yacht, it’s the the ‘sole’.

“What did you say?”

“I’d expect a certain amount of water in the bilge. All barges leak to some extent unless they’ve been recently rebuilt, and the bilge-pump is on the port side. Obviously, in a sou-westerly, the barge’ll be heeling to starboard and the bilge-pump will be out of any water. So I told them that, and that I’d take in the top-sail to get her more upright, and take a look myself. If necessary, take in the sails and proceed under power.”

“And they were happy with that?”

“I don’t know about happy. But they passed me. The thing is, those boats are all old. I added that, if the water was more than an inch or so, I’d call the coastguard to advise them of a possible problem and head for Harwich.”

“What if it was really bad?”

Geoff cocked his head. “Well, as a general rule, one is best advised to stay with the boat. I’d still head for Harwich. Walton wouldn’t be much nearer, and the entrance isn’t easy. The lifeboat could be with us in a few minutes anyway, and, of course, the barge carries life-rafts and a small boat as well. If the boat had worked enough to make a serious leak, then a steel boat like Reminder is probably going to sink. A wooden one, like Hydrogen... I suspect it would float long enough to beach it at Dovercourt.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry about it. The boats are inspected, dried out on the blocks, every year. The safety checks are stringent and the barges are restricted in how far offshore they can go.”

After the Board, they spent a couple of days at Greenwich Maritime Museum before exploring the other galleries and museums of London. Tate Modern held little interest for either of them, but the Tate, the National Gallery, the Banqueting House, and the V and A museum, occupied them most satisfactorily. During the day, that is. Three months of making love together had not made the slightest dent in the desire each had for the other. In fact both came to the conclusion that they had never made love before they met. Growing familiarity merely increased the joy and wonder they had in each other.

Back in Maldon, Helen had to consider where she, or rather they, were going to live. The lease on the flat would end on the last day of March, and the agent was making noises about whether she would extend. As it happened, another flat, a three bedroom one, came up for sale a few days after they arrived back. Helen was able to pay cash; the survey and searches were a formality, and once the vendor was assured of the sale, he was quite willing for Helen to move in to the empty property ahead of the legal formalities. Thus Helen was able to vacate the small flat she’d been in since October and moving was just a matter of carrying her few items of personal property a few yards ... and purchasing the furniture they would need.

Helen’s first experience of barge sailing was a passage to take Thistle to Ipswich wet dock, a few days before Easter. Jenni Peters was Skipper and Geoff, despite his recent certification, Mate. That was quite good, as Jenni was happy for Helen to gain some experience. They left Thistle moored by the Old Customs House, an imposing listed building on the north side of the dock area, now a public house and restaurant. Thistle was ‘put to bed’ and left there ready to work over the Easter weekend, while Jenni returned to her home in Felixstowe and Helen with Geoff caught the train to Witham, and from there the bus to Maldon. It was a very long day, and Helen dozed off, leaning against Geoff’s shoulder, on the bus. He had to wake her to get off, then she leaned against him for the walk from the bus stop to the flat.

After a month of outings as a third hand, usually with Geoff as Skipper and a variety of others as Mate, she had her first run as Mate, taking Hydrogen round to London. Living on board, she and Geoff conducted day sails on the Thames. The first time Tower Bridge opened to let them through was a thrill, one which never faded completely.

In June Reminder hosted a party of ‘difficult’ youngsters for a week. A mixed group – in several ways – accompanied by two teachers.

They were not, repeat not, difficult. Wide eyed at times, loud, sometimes. One or two were tearful occasionally. Table manners lacking in a couple of cases. But they pulled on ropes, wound winch and windlass handles, and took a turn at the helm, nervously. Listened as Geoff explained how sails worked. They ate what was put in front of them and, often, asked for second helpings. At the end of the day, the chatter from the cabins only lasted a few minutes before they were all asleep. The teachers, Su (Suzannah) and Bob, sat with Geoff and Helen and talked about their charges over wine (for the ladies) and beer (how stereotypical can you get). Two days in, and they were very happy with how things were going. “Even if nothing else happens, they’ve had a great experience,” Su said.

One of the objectives of the week was to visit Hamford Water, the tidal lagoon featured in Arthur Ransome’s ‘Secret Water’. It was necessary to enter at, or just before, high water, which was three in the afternoon. With the wind in the south-west, the entry under sail was tricky, not to mention finding the notorious Pye End buoy which marks the entrance. A reward was offered, and earned by one of the girls, fifteen year old Sharlene Smith. A selection of chocolate bars had been obtained for the purpose. Once Reminder was anchored and secured for the night, Helen offered her the choice. Sharlene chose ‘fruit and nut’.