Chapter 2

Richard was surprised at how smoothly the arrangements went, Dulcie less so. She'd seen things 'come together' quite remarkably previously. They'd made their way down to the quay for half-past five, delayed slightly by several calls for Dulcie – Tom had said, "On board by eighteen hundred, please, Dulcie. High water is eighteen thirty."

They humped – well, dragged – heavy cases to the quay and Richard lugged them on board and Emma drove the car back to the Rectory, then walked through the park to the Prom to wave them off, pushing Peter in his buggy.

Tom and his Mate, 'Rusty' Ironside, greeted them with hand-shakes, but immediately went about their business, leaving Chrissie Carmichael to give Dulcie a warm hug. "I'm so glad you're able to come, Dulcie," then turned to the doctor. "Welcome aboard, Doctor. Any friend of Dulcie's is a friend of mine and Tom's."

"Thank you," he smiled, "I'm looking forward to hearing you sing – I've heard very good things about you."

She blushed a little, "I'm sure they were exaggerated."

"I'm sure they weren't. I know Tessa Spark quite well – she's married to a colleague." (Tessa Spark being the Deputy Head of the school Chrissie worked at part time.)

They manoeuvred the cases below, down the steep companion-way ladder, and found an unoccupied cabin. Actually, the only unoccupied cabin ... which was one of the ones with a double bed, and a single bunk set across the cabin, over the double. They stowed some of their kit and went back on deck, where they were a little surprised to see Chrissie with her guitar, sitting on the hatch cover, by the main mast.

"Come aft, Dulcie, Richard, please!" called Tom. They did as they were told and joined a cluster of other passengers by the wheel. Tom pointed at a curved, octagonal baulk of timber across the deck. "That's called the main-horse," Tom said. "You need to stand behind that, or well forward. Don't sit on it or straddle it while we're sailing. You'll see why in a bit, okay?" They nodded and Tom shouted forward, where they saw Rusty and two of the erstwhile 'passengers' who appeared to be about to do some work. "Single up to the spring, Rusty!"

The three busied themselves with mooring warps and, as the last splashed into the river and was hauled on board, leaving just one stretched from the bow of the neighbouring barge to the stern of Reminder.

"Take it away, Chantyman!"

Chrissie began to sing as Reminder's bows swung away from her neighbour;

A hundred years is a very long time,
Ho, yes, ho!
A hundred years is a very long time,
A hundred years ago.

They hung a man for making steam,

Ho, yes, ho!
They cast his body in the stream.
A hundred years ago.

A hundred years is a very long time,
Ho, yes, ho!
A hundred years is a very long time,
A hundred years ago.

As she was singing, Rusty and one of his helpers were hauling on the staysail halyard and the sail was rising up its stay. The other man went to the bows and as soon as Rusty had secured the halyard, was working on the tack downhaul. Meanwhile, Tom had released the brails and was heaving the mainsail block aft. Reminder was beginning to move and Tom shouted across to the other barge, where another 'sailorman' was waiting, "Let go my spring, please!"

He hooked the block to the traveller on the horse and sheeted in, then went to the wheel.

A middle-aged woman, standing next to Dulcie, told her, "This is my fourth trip with Tom as Skipper, but I don't think I'll ever tire of watching him. Many of the skippers rely on their engines, but Tom'll avoid using it whenever possible. That's my husband forward, with Rusty. Look, they're going to set the topsail."

Sure enough, Rusty and another man were moving to the foot of the sprit and hauling on the topsail sheet (not that Dulcie, or Richard, knew what was going on) while Chrissie continued to sing. With the topsail sheeted, they then moved to the halyard and hoisted it.

Soon enough, the men were tidying, coiling brails and halyard tails, then pulling the old tyres used as fenders inboard. Chrissie changed her song, then...

"Come loose every sail to the breeze.
The course of my vessel improve;
I've done with the toils of the seas,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love.
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
I've done with the toils of the seas,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love.

Since Emma is true as she's fair,
My griefs I fling all to the wind,
'Tis a pleasing return for my care,
My mistress is constant and kind.
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
I've done with the toils of the seas,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love.

My sails are all filled too my dear,
What tropic bird swifter can move?
Who, cruel, shall hold his career,
That returns to the nest of his love?
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
I've done with the toils of the seas,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love.

Then hoist every sail to the breeze,
Come, shipmates, and join in the song;
Let's drink while the ship cuts the seas,
To the gale that may drive her along.
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love,
I've done with the toils of the seas,
Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love."

By the time she'd finished singing, Reminder was clear of Maldon and ship-shape. The group by the wheel applauded as Chrissie moved aft to the hatch and took her guitar below.

It was a perfect slant of wind, necessitating no tacks, just a gybe at each turn. Some of the passengers spread out to sit on the windward side of the hatch-cover ... well forward of the main-horse.

Dulcie watched the (rather dull, at first) land passing as Reminder moved smoothly through the water, conscious of Richard standing quite close behind and to the side of her. "It's odd how difficult it is to place oneself..." she said to him.

Tom, at the wheel, overheard. "It's a very different world," he said. "Take the wheel a moment?"

"Who, me?" she squeaked.

"Yes, of course. Don't worry, it's not so different to driving a car ... well, maybe a lorry. Just keep heading for that red buoy. We need to pass it to port ... on the left."

She tentatively took hold of the spokes of the wheel and Tom headed for the hatch to the Master's cabin. "Don't leave me here!" Dulcie squeaked again.

"I'll only be a moment," Tom said over his shoulder as he stepped over the coaming.

"Don't worry," the same woman who'd spoken before said from the other side of the wheel, "most of us here have taken the wheel at one time or another and if anything were to happen, Tom'd be here before you could say 'bump'. I think you're drifting off course a little, to the right."

Dulcie turned the wheel – it seemed quite stiff – and nothing seemed to happen for a moment, but then the bows started to swing ... and didn't stop when Dulcie tried to straighten up.

"You have to turn the wheel the other way for a moment, to stop the bows swinging," the woman said, helpfully, "then turn it back. It takes a little getting used to."

Dulcie nodded and gradually Reminder settled back on course, though wandering a bit as she tried to keep her heading the right way. Tom reappeared and watched for a few minutes.

"That's Osea Island," he told her, pointing to port. "See that green conical?" (He pointed at a green, pointed buoy ahead and to the left 'on the port bow').

"Er ... yes, Skipper."

"When we get there, we'll turn to port. That'll put the wind on our port quarter and we'll need to gybe, to get the mainsail across to the other side. Understand?"

"I think so."

"I'll tell you what to do. Are you okay? Would you like someone else to take over?"

"I'm okay, Skipper..."

They rounded the buoy called, for some reason 'The Doctor' and Tom busied himself as the big sail with its heavy sprit, swung across and he had to move its sheet from the port crab-winch to the starboard.

He watched as Dulcie slowly stabilised Reminder on her new course. "Well done," he praised. "Ready for a rest?"

"I think so."

Tom looked round. "Anyone for a trick at the wheel? Missus Barlow?" He was looking at the older woman who had given Dulcie advice.

"Yes, I will," the woman answered and took hold of the wheel from the other side.

"Take a look at this," Tom told Dulcie, unfolding a small chart. (Stanfords L4 'River Blackwater). Dulcie, standing beside him looked where his finger was pointing. "That's the buoy we just rounded, there, Osea Island." His finger moved to a small inset. You can see how the channel wanders all over the place, but Maldon's more or less behind us and the trickiest part is over – just about seven miles to go to ... Mersea Quarters, where we'll anchor for the night, and to eat. Hungry?"

"Ravenous," Dulcie answered, a smile in her voice.

"That's good. Betty always does us proud and loves to have people eat well. You won't gain any weight this week, though."

While they were talking, Chrissie made her way aft and tucked herself in beside Tom, sliding her arm round his waist. Dulcie looked round for Richard, and found he was quite close; she held out her hand to him and he took it.

"I'm impressed," he said with a smile.

"Why? Because I managed not to get on the mud?"

"Well, yes – I suppose so. But you've never been on a boat before, have you?"

She laughed, "Only alongside the quay." They stood in companionable silence, the deck under them quite steady and heeling very little. "I think I'd like to go and sit on the hatch-cover, where Chrissie was sitting when she played," Dulcie said, and Richard nodded. He released her hand in order to negotiate the deck forward. They found a space and sat; after a moment's hesitation, Richard placed his arm round Dulcie, who leaned in against him with a sigh.

Tom guided Reminder to anchor by Mersea Quarters. Again, Dulcie and Richard, with others, watched as he carefully timed 'brailing up' the mainsail and dropping the staysail, then dropping the topsail, finally dropping the anchor as Reminder came to a standstill. Tom and Rusty, with the two enthusiastic passengers, lashed the topsail, brailed up the mizzen and bundled the staysail, then hoisted the 'at anchor' black ball and riding light.