I’ve spent yet another week sitting at Suffolk Yacht Harbour, or more accurately spending my evenings in the lightship that is the home of Haven Ports Yacht Club. It’s very easy to sit around waiting for the world to happen at times like this, but the world will not come to you, you need to head outside and find it … and Suffolk is a beautiful place to get out and explore.
Photo by a club member from the top of their mast.
At the centre of the marina at Suffolk Yacht Harbour is a magnificent bright red painted old ship that was once the lightship for Cromer on the north Norfolk coast. The glass tower that once contained the light that warned shipping of the impending doom that would result from the shifting sandbanks in that area still stands proud looking over the marina. The lightship has a long history, and while it has been modified to suit its current purpose as the clubhouse of the Haven Ports Yacht Club, it retains much the character and history of its original life.
The pontoons around the marina are a little rustic, often wonky in nature and frequently tight for berthing the more modern boat, however the facilities buildings are modern and well kept. But what makes the place are the people. The marina staff are pleasant and helpful as you would expect, though it should be noted that the marina office is only open during office hours and there is no one on site after 5.30.
The bar in the old light ship is the home of Haven Ports Yacht Club, it is the members of the club and most especially the staff working there, that are the most welcoming bunch. They have made my extended stay here a most memorable experience to say the least.
While I have been in the bar I have heard stories from people who have actually tried to head into places like Lowestoft, which is just a few hours north of here, over the last few weeks. Even allowing for the traditional bar room exaggeration there have been some horror stories from people who know this area well and have regretted such a stopover.
Southwold
I managed to take a day trip over to the village of Southwold, which is a pretty little place, typical of many seaside towns scattered around the British coast.
The pier is relatively modern by the standards of other British seaside resorts. It was initially constructed in 1900 as a landing stage for tourists on the Belle steamships travelling up from London. After a series of unfortunate events and catastrophes the length of the pier was reduced to just 60 feet in 1979, barely enough to cover the width of the beach. Between 1999 and 2001 the pier was rebuilt using modern techniques and materials, and is currently Britain’s only 21st century pier, although the building fronting the pier is distinctly Art Deco in style and so belies the much younger age of the pier itself.
From the pier it is a short walk, either along the beach promenade with the brightly painted beach huts, or along the road which rises above the steep embankment behind the beach.
The harbour is a little south of the town itself and remains undeveloped. It is a popular, and quite expensive, stopover.
Looking out from the higher level of the road heading from the pier towards the old town the view stretched for many a mile out to sea the waves were not exactly crashing on to the beach. However looking out beyond the gently shelving beach to a mile or two off the shore you could see white topped waves where they built up steep and high in the shallow seas and were beginning to fall over, the wind taking the spray from the breaking waves and carrying it away on the winds. It was nice to have it confirmed with my own eyes, while it may have been eminently possible to sail in these conditions it would have been far from comfortable. As I keep having to remind myself I sail purely for pleasure these days. I have no deadlines or need to be back in time to return to work. I would also be all alone out there, dealing with everything that happens and unable to hand over to anyone else for even a moment’s rest. No. Waiting for a change in the weather has most definitely been the sensible and considered option.
A wander down to the harbour was like a trip down memory lane to the times I sailed here with my dad. The ramshackle, rickety looking pilings where boats moor up along each side of the river had barely changed, at first glance it looked like they could disintegrate at any time. Closer examination however reveals the stout timbers, while rounded and worn by an age of use by fishing boats and then pleasure craft of all sizes, where still strong. The old wooden sheds once used by the fishing fleet however had not fared so well. The ones that remained were mostly converted to eateries with the occasional fish shop, though there did not seem to be many fishing boats around to supply these shops.
Trimley St Martin
As I was slowly running low on some basic food items I decided to take a walk into Trimley St Martin village again. It’s an hour’s walk away from the marina, though it is a very pleasant walk through the wooded foreshore and then inland into the village.
Being on a boat, even one seemingly stranded half way up a muddy east coast river, the sounds and smells of the sea are all around you. Walking through the wooded coppice I was suddenly struck by the smell of freshly mown grass at some of the houses dotted around the Trimley estate. Talk of “Mindfulness” has been much overused over the last few years, but the smells of the world around me drew me into a world that is all too often taken for granted in the fast paced modern world. As I walked on I went through fields of corn, corn that swayed and swished and rustled in the brisk breeze that was everywhere now I was away from the shelter of the trees along the river bank. Sometimes it does us good to open our senses to the world around us. You don’t need to become a tree hugger to appreciate the natural world around us, to appreciate the beauty of nature.
Boat work
While I have been sitting here my boat can not be ignored. I have frequently become frustrated with the weather forecasts, but I have to keep the boat ready to move if things suddenly change. This is Britain after all, and the weather is never totally predictable. Routine checks on the engine have continued, making sure oil, water and fuel are all in order in case the opportunity to move on does present itself. The decks have been hosed down and cleaned regularly, as being in such close proximity to land encourages dirt and grime onto the boat, and this shows up all too well on the sun faded white of a 35 year old fibreglass boats decks.
Inside I have finally added some netting over the shelves in the main cabin, a job I have been contemplating for quite a while. When a boat is all at sea she can move around quite a bit with the rolling waves and the wind blowing against the sails. While the sensible thing is to stow everything away, this is also my home, and I like having some things around me on the shelves, and not just my copious supply of books. In order to keep these things safe should the boat and I hit a particularly rough patch I now have netting I can secure over the shelves in order to prevent carnage from happening across my lounge, still I hope this will never be needed.
Now, the wind is forecast to ease over the next couple of days, so maybe, just maybe, it will finally be time to move on ….
