Villan

Although Salhouse was undeniably frantic when we arrived, it was calm again by five. The fact that it was a hot Sunday at the start of the school holidays will also have been a factor. Even then, it was a brief interlude of busyness in a very relaxed week. As Helen says, you'll be fine!

Sunday 2nd August Such was the tranquility of our mooring that I slept from the moment my head hit the pillow until I heard a boat going past at about half past seven. Janine had already got up, so I lay there alone for fifteen minutes or so enjoying the sound of birdsong and watching dancing patches of sunlight reflecting off the water as it came through tiny gaps in the curtains. We would be going home tomorrow, so I was determined to savour my last proper morning on the Broads. Eventually, I joined Janine on the back of the boat. The boat engine I had heard was our neighbour leaving, so with no one around us to disturb we ran the engine for showers and breakfasted before putting the roof back and enjoying the mooring before we got underway. Janine had seen a deer on the opposite bank before I got up. To this we added sightings of a fox and a kingfisher while we sat in the warm morning sunshine. Our destination tonight was to be Salhouse Broad where we planned to tie up to some trees away from most other boats. Before that we planned to go to Potter Heigham to get rid of rubbish and top up our water for the last time. We could have stayed in such an idyllic location for longer, but we took the emergence of the boys from their cabin at 0945 as our cue to set off. We went down and had a look at Womack Staith before heading back down the Dyke and turning onto the River Thurne. Upon arriving at Herbert Woods, we did all the necessary housekeeping tasks. The occupants of the neighbouring boat at the water hose were new to the Broads and were complaining that it was so busy that they had to moor in boatyards every night. When I asked if they had considered mudweighting or wild mooring it became apparent that they wanted to be near somewhere they could eat out every night. Fair enough, but that was not for us and I suspected that they had already decided the Broads were not for them. The Herbert Woods yard was starting to get busy, so we decided that our call to NBD would be just to inform them of the issue with the mudweight so they had time to sort it out for the next occupants of Fair Chancellor. We had no desire to wait around and decided that we would be able to do without the mudweight tonight, so we turned down their offer to send someone out to us. We left just before midday. After the chalets of Potter Heigham petered out the view across towards Thurne mouth was wonderful with low clouds and a plethora of sails seemingly moving across the fields as they took advantage of the rising wind. As we joined the Bure the clouds grew thicker and the sun weaker and it started to get slightly chilly. Just before St Benets we witnessed a collision up ahead. A Horning Ferry boat tried to pass in front of the bow of a tacking yacht with the predictable outcome. Although we were a few hundred yards away I heard the understandable shouts of the yachtsman making his views known. By the time we passed him he was deep in conversation with a woman in another NBD boat who was presumably giving her details to act as a witness in case there was damage. The Horning Ferry boat had just carried on regardless. Progress through Horning was slow due to the sheer amount of boats and day launches leaving moorings outside pubs or looking to moor at them. Things calmed down a bit as we came out the other side of the village- perhaps Salhouse would not be too bad. Wrong! We came off the river to a scene of utter bedlam. Once we negotiated a yacht that was stuck without wind near the entrance, we skirted the edge of the broad to look for some trees to tie up to. This was difficult as there was a boat right in front of me going slowly looking in vain for a spot where he could moor. To my right, a day boat was undertaking me despite the fact that there were a number of paddle boarders in front of him. To my left were a couple of dingies and someone out in the middle of the broad swimming. We abandoned our attempt to look for trees to tie up to and turned the boat around as soon as we could. On any other day I would have gone elsewhere, but given the need to hand the boat back tomorrow I did not want to be any further from Wroxham. Plan B was enacted, which involved looking for a mooring on the spit of land separating the broad from the river. The one mooring on the spit that faces into the broad was available when we came in and this was still the case now, so we got in right on the end so that we could see the stern on moorings from the back of the boat. After a cup of tea, I calmed down and began to enjoy being able to see the craziness from our distanced vantage point. It was good fun watching boats circling the broad looking for a mooring and the flurry of activity that accompanied any boat leaving the stern on moorings. Less pleasantly, on the river side of the spit a dayboat stopped and three man got out to urinate in the bushes. The look on their faces when Janine pointedly said “Nice” and they realised that a boat was moored the other side was priceless. This mooring spot was later taken up by a couple who appeared to be in their fifties. They fired up a barbecue and placed the table and chairs from their craft on the bank before putting on some Shirley Bassey and opening a bottle of champagne. Janine and I had great fun making up backstories for them. Entertaining as all this was, we had to start getting ready for tomorrow. Janine and the boys started packing clothes up and I mopped the decks down. During this time, things out on the water started to calm down and by about 1700 the quiet Salhouse Broad that I loved had returned. I went for a solitary row down the creek at the side of the broad and on my return Joseph went out and did the same. We had just finished our beef chili and rice when the heavens opened at about twenty to seven. We had had so little rain this week that this was quite a novelty, so we put the roof up and watched the rain fall. A few kids paddling by the stern on moorings stubbornly continued their activity. The rain then got considerably harder and we felt nothing but admiration for the one child who still did not let this deter him from being in the water. The rain finally stopped at about half seven. It was still warm, so we put the roof back again and enjoyed our last evening before shutting the roof at about half past nine and then taking a last cup of tea out on the back. After getting ready for bed, I put out the light and was about to get under the covers when I felt compelled to pull back the curtain for a final look at the wonder of Broadland by night. The line of boats moored up with their lights on looked fantastic against the darkness- full of people who were sharing this wonderful location with us, some having booked long ago and some who, like us, had ended up here through the effects of this awful pandemic. Some of them would be captivated by this wonderful area and would return, some like the people we spoke to at Potter Heigham would not. I don’t know when circumstance will allow me to come back, but one thing is for sure- I certainly will!

Saturday 1st August Up at 7ish, tea on back of boat, boys still asleep…you know the drill by now! We headed off at 9, turned right at Thurne mouth and headed down the Bure in the direction of Yarmouth. This stretch of river always seems to suffer by comparison with the Bure further upstream but it was looking great in the sunshine. The mooring at the end of Upton Dyke was free and looked inviting, although it was too soon into our journey to stop. Acle slid by, then Stokesby which looked so picturesque that we discussed stopping but decided to press on. As well as exploring this stretch of river, we were down here to avoid Saturday changeover madness and it seemed to be a good decision as the water was very quiet. When we moored at Stracey Arms we were only the third boat to occupy the entire moorings. We had showers, the boys had breakfast and Janine went to the shop, an undertaking that took longer than expected as a lingering donkey on the bank stopped her getting off the boat. She eventually made it and returned with the bread and milk that we needed. Given the speed of the flow I had decided to drop the mudweight when we moored, in addition to us tying up. When we left the mooring we turned around to head upriver again and I heard a banging against the hull. I had forgotten to raise the mudweight. The boys had retreated to their cabin again after breakfast so Janine headed to the front of the boat. She had not operated the powered mudweight on Fair Chancellor yet, so I shouted out which button she should press but forgot to tell her to stop bringing it up all the way. As we were to disccover later, the mudweight had got stuck at the top of the hole where it sat in the bow when raised. In ignorant bliss we headed up to Acle. Seeing that the water hose at Pedro’s was free we stopped there before heading over to the other bank and having lunch. Leaving at 1300 we headed back up to Thurne mouth, turned right and headed towards our intended destination for the night- Womack Water. Traffic levels had remained low all day until we got to Thurne mouth but by the time we got to Womack we were part of a procession of boats which headed into the Dyke. There were no moorings left on the Dyke and the number of boats coming the other way indicated that there was probably nothing available on the Island or at the Staithe either. Sure enough, a trip round the island revealed two private boats sat on the moorings there. Just past there a wild mooring was free and I could see no signs telling me I couldn’t moor. Having ascertained this, I was past the mooring and there was another boat on my tail. I decided to go around the island again to have another look. Passing the boats on the Island again, a woman called out to me from Black Cat, a particularly impressive looking vessel. “Do you want to moor here? We’re just about to leave”. Weighing up the situation I decided to take her up on her kind offer. “Yes please! We’ll go around again while you get ready. Thank You!”. As we passed the wild mooring again I knew I had made the right call- although good for a smaller craft I think Fair Chancellor’s bulk would have protruded too much on this narrow stretch of water. As we prepared to begin our third lap of the island a boat from Horning Ferry was coming down the dyke and I could see the helmsman weighing up whether to turn left or right. Surely after all this we were not going to lose the mooring? I decided to make his mind up for him by pointing my bow in the direction I wanted to take. I had to wait to complete the turn until he was past to avoid the dinghy from hitting him. I made it with full lock and the assistance of the bow thruster but I was now on the wrong side of the water just as Black Cat was coming the other way. I kept the lock on to get on the correct side just as they moved the same way to take avoiding action. We then both slammed our boats into reverse to avoid a collision which we did- just! My waved apologies seemed to be accepted but I’m still embarrassed that from their perspective we appeared to repay their kindness by trying to collide with them. If anyone reading this knows them, I would be grateful if you could thank them again for us and explain the context that led to what happened! Drama over, we moored at the opposite end to the remaining private boat. There was about 30 foot between us excluding the dinghy, but the kink on the moorings would make getting in there difficult. Over the course of the evening many boats would size it up, but none attempted to moor which suited us just fine. At this point we lost the sun for most of the rest of the day. However, the mooring was as peaceful as I remembered it from being here with my parents back in my youth. The only downside from Joseph’s point of view was the intermittent satellite signal which interrupted his attempts to watch the cup final. About a minute after a Richardsons boat with lots of occupants in Chelsea shirts passed us we heard a loud cheer. “I think Chelsea might have scored”, I said to him whilst he fiddled frantically with the TV. He was not amused. Leaving him to it, Janine and I opened a bottle of white wine before cooking a Pasta Arabbiata that was timed to be ready for the final whistle. After consuming this we then sat out on the front of the boat where I discovered the problem with the mudweight and decided that a call to NBD would be in order tomorrow. As usual, Joseph and I were the last ones standing. As we had our customary tea on the back of the boat the clouds parted and a wonderful moon came out which I attempted to do justice with my camera but without success. Our isolated location looked wonderful in the moonlight and I had another tea out there after Joseph decided to turn in, eventually coming inside at about half eleven.

I think I've come round to that view myself, Helen. I guess my liking for the cottage in its previous guise was bound up with memories.

Friday 31st July We were under even less time pressure than normal. Today was all about getting to only part of the Northern Broads that still eluded me, the place to which I had devoted a lot of my pre-holiday online research investigating how best to make it happen in a 44ft boat. We were going to Dilham. My plan was to get there for about 11 in the hope of finding the point between overnighters leaving and people coming up for lunch so that I could turn the boat around. We would need to get going at around 1000 but that was still two and a half hours away. At about twenty to eight the procession of Richardsons boats going past us back up to Stalham started so we ran the engine and had showers before starting on a cooked breakfast. The smell of bacon and sausages had the miraculous effect of raising the boys from their pit and by quarter to nine we were all sat eating in the saloon with the roof back, enjoying what was shaping up to be an even warmer day. The Acle Co-Op sausages were as good as they were three days ago. After clearing up we were under way bang on cue at 1000. After crossing Barton and passing Stalham Dyke we were soon greeted with the familiar view of Hunsett Mill and the cottage next to it. Like a lot of people, I was horrified when I first saw the renovations to the cottage a few years ago but today they looked fantastic. It could have been the sunshine, it could be that the garden seemed to contain more plants than before, it could even be that I had just got used to it. The countryside looked particularly lush as I spotted the mooring on which I had woken up on my seventeenth birthday with my parents many, many years ago. As Wayford Bridge came into view we had over seven feet clearance on the gauge- Dilham was definitely on. After going through the bridge and passing the houseboats the 3mph signpost appeared to act as a portal into another world. Water lilies were in abundance and the bottom of the river could be seen. The whole river seemed to be alive with vegetation even compared to the Bure above Wroxham. Matthew summed it up best when he stuck his head out of the hatch- “Are we still on the Broads?” he said. “This is lovely” Janine said, “but are you absolutely sure that we’ll be able to get this boat back down the other way?”. I assured her that we had passed no signs warning how narrow it was like the one at the start of Lime Kiln Dyke and that someone on the forum had turned a boat two foot longer than ours round there, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. I just hoped to goodness that there would be sufficient room at the staithe It was a bit of a shock how quickly the head of navigation came upon us, but there was Brick Kiln Bridge as I had seen from numerous photographs on the internet. We were the only boat there and the staithe was empty apart from a fisherman sitting just inside the turning circle. He looked at me as I brought the boat to a stop. “You can’t moor here”, he shouted gesturing to the “No Mooring- Turning Circle” signs on the opposite bank. We did not intend to moor anyway, so I should have said something along the lines that if he would be kind enough to move we would soon be out of his way. But I didn’t. I was annoyed that he had come out with such blatant BS, especially when he was sat right by a Broads Authority sign saying “Free Moorings”. “This is a public staithe”, I said. “’I’ve every right to moor on this bank”. He scowled at me. “Right”, I said loudly to my crewmates “were going to turn round”. I was hoping he would take that as a sign to move as the ideal turning spot was right where he was, but he remained mute. I looked at the space available to me and reckoned that there would be just enough room to turn. I knew that by rights he should give way to me so I reasoned if he wanted to leave his rod in place whilst I turned around in front of him that was his problem. Janine walked the dinghy to the front of the boat and Joseph began pulling the back around on the rope. When the starboard rear rope came into reach I pulled that and then handed it to Joseph before climbing aboard and bringing it round with the bow thruster. We caught on a tree and appeared to be stuck until Joseph called out that there was a bit more room behind the boat. I put it into reverse on tickover and kissed the quay before using the bow thruster again. The front came round this time. I gave a wave of “thanks” to my fisherman friend who had now taken his rod out of the water. The look on his face led me to believe that he fully understood the sarcasm with which this gesture was laced. The gardens of Dilham were receding from view when I came upon two boats coming the other way towards the Staithe. I remembered how tight it had been turning the boat around and felt relief that they had not been there five minutes earlier. Then I thought about how someone was about to have his fishing disrupted again and felt pure schadenfreude. Earlier that morning I had made what for me was a momentous decision- we were not going to have our customary second night on the Ant. This was not an easy decision to make as it is my favourite Broads river, but we had covered almost every inch of it and I saw no point making an overnight mooring at lunchtime. This decision was vindicated when it became clear how many wild mooring places had been taken as we moved downriver. After having lunch on the move again we moored up at Ludham Bridge. The heat meant that we were nearly out of cold drinks already, so Janine went into Bridge Stores while the boys and I dropped off the rubbish. We had intended to get water but a couple of dayboats had moored in front of the water hoses. Although I would have been well within my rights to ask them to move I was not up for another potential confrontation, so we pressed on to South Walsham. This was not a hardship as Fleet Dyke was lovely as ever and the boatyard there is a glorious spot with vegetables growing just behind the water house and a view out onto the wooded banks of the broad. As we came back out onto the Bure the wind was starting to get up, despite the heat. This was a welcome relief as we approached St Benets and looked for an overnight mooring. We wanted to moor up somewhere where we could see the sun set over St Benets but that was isolated. We also reasoned that it would be a good night to be in such a windy location for some relief from the heat. A while past the Abbey we saw some flattened grass on the right- hand bank. A private boat was moored at one end, but the rest of the area was free. We moored right at the other end with a gap of about twenty feet between the back of both boats. After a day at the helm I was somewhat hot, so I put the roof up but left the front and rear screens down so that it acted like a wind tunnel. I sat there for an hour or so cooling down while the boys used the shade that it afforded to use the Playstation. I then joined Janine on the roof at the back of the boat where we spent the next couple of hours enjoying the wind, the sight of sailboats travelling towards the setting sun and consuming a bottle of white wine between us. We then put the roof back down and had burgers and chicken drumsticks for tea, which Janine and I washed down with another bottle of wine (red this time). Following this we headed back out onto the rear roof to watch a spectacular sunset and split a couple of ales between us. Janine turned in at about half nine and by the time I had finished washing up both boys had gone to bed as well, so I was to be the sole member of the rear deck tea club tonight. As I sat there in the dark, the scene was one of complete serenity. The wind had dropped and the Bure snaked towards Horning like glass against the darkening sky. It was still relatively warm, so I stayed out until just before eleven before turning in.

I remember reading your dramatic first instalment of this tale the day before we went on the Broads. I made my son's read it to show why I kept banging on about not jumping off the boat. Really enjoyed catching up with it since we've been back and glad you all seem to have a good time away in the end.

Ditto all comments about NBD. They were excellent and the boat was well-prepared and extremely comfortable. Thursday 30th July Having risen at 0720, Janine and I had our usual cup of tea on the back of the boat. It was warm already, so it looked as if the forecast for it to be particularly hot for the next two days would be accurate. Taking advantage of our isolation we ran the engine for a bit before having showers and eating breakfast. Then at ten to nine we raised the mud weight and were on our way. The Bure was fairly busy already, but the level of traffic dropped dramatically when we hung a left onto the River Ant and we encountered no other boats travelling in the same direction as us until we encountered one leaving How Hill. It was now becoming seriously warm and once above Ludham Bridge dragon flies kept flying alongside me at the helm. I was reminded once again why I like this river so much. Irstead marked the appearance of our now awake sons from the hatch of their cabin onto the roof of the boat and a welcome breeze as we crossed Barton Broad helped to blow away any lingering cobwebs. Above Barton, most of the wild moorings that characterise this stretch of river were still free which gave me hope for this evening. A wild mooring on the Ant was a must-do. First, we had to go to Stalham. We needed to get rid of rubbish and we figured that Richardsons would be a good place to do this and get the pump out that we were told we would need. On arrival we got all this done and also took the chance to top up the water tank before heading into Stalham for a few groceries. Such was the heat that we did all this in Tesco’s owing to its proximity and the fact that it was air conditioned inside. We were back at the boat and underway by 1230. With it being way too early to moor up we went for a tour of the Upper Ant, going up to Sutton before turning round just before the staithe. A salami sandwich taken at the helm on the return was accompanied by a pleasing breeze as we passed through Sutton Broad. Then it was on to Barton Turf and across the Broad to Gay’s Staithe. It was apparent that things had become a lot busier since our trip to Stalham. Most of the wild mooring spots that we saw on the way up had been taken already. We were aware that tomorrow was a big changeover day at Richardsons, but we had not expected the dash for last night moorings to start quite this early. Matthew was six last time we visited the Broads, but he still had particularly fond memories of a wild mooring we made just below Barton Broad so we headed in that direction next. True to form, this was occupied by a Richardsons boat so we kept going through Irstead until we saw a vacant wild mooring spot just past the bend as you exit the village. Perhaps influenced by increasing concern about getting a mooring I chose this point to make a couple of bad decisions. I came in bow first despite the fact that I had no thrusters on the rear. Joseph was off the bow onto land, but I could not get the rear in. As it began to swing out into the river it occurred to me that I had completely forgotten to factor in which way the tide was going. Recovering my senses, I told Joseph to stay where he was and allowed the boat to drift round before moving it forward and then getting the back in. We had caused a brief traffic jam on the river, but only in one direction of travel and my waved apologies appeared to be accepted with good grace. We were safely moored and a cup of tea was in order. As we drank it in the warm sun, we acquainted ourselves with our new surroundings. We could see the first house of Irstead, but apart from that we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Another boat mooring on the bank diagonally to us turned out to contain a family who waved hello and then sat fishing with their kids. All was quiet. Things got even better when Janine received a text at about quarter to five. For his sixteenth birthday at the end of June, Joseph had a gaming chair as a present from us. There had been numerous delays and typically when we finally got a delivery date confirmed it was for whilst we were away. The text was from our neighbour telling us it had arrived. This was deemed the perfect opportunity to open the bottle of Cava in our welcome pack from NBD. Once this was consumed, Janine began cooking tea and Joseph and I went for a quick row up to the staithe and back. It was beautiful, but quite hot work. On our return, we attacked some of the soft drinks we had picked up from Stalham before settling down to a meal of tacos, pork mince and sweet chilli sauce. We then finished the wine we had with our tea out on the front roof, watching the sun go down. The customary cup of tea Joseph and I shared on the back of the boat after the other two had gone to bed was taken in the company of an owl in a nearby tree and some bats which swooped about above our heads. It was still warm as we sat in the gloaming so we brewed up again and stayed out enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by nature. Eventually, tiredness got the better of us and we came in just before eleven.

Wednesday 29th July Having gone out like a light, I slept through until 0745. Janine was already up and soon we were drinking tea in our customary spot on the back of the boat. The sun was out and the wind had gone. It was idyllic. The pilot had told us to get to Wroxham at about 1330 again to get under the bridge, so we had plenty of time. After breakfast, we slipped away from our mooring towards Coltishall. The boys had still not surfaced so we enjoyed the peace of the river on our own, with the only evidence of other people being two boats coming the other way. There was space on the Common when we arrived at Coltishall and then awoke our two bleary-eyed sons for breakfast. We had showers and Janine and I popped to the shop for more bread before we had a cup of tea and set off back downriver. We encountered no other traffic going our way, so I ignored speed limits and just kept the boat at 3mph enjoying the sunshine. A very enjoyable cruise was concluded by a cut-through of Bridge Broad and another decent stern-on mooring at Hoveton St John moorings at about midday. In the middle of our lunch of cheese on toast, the Pilot boarded the boat. Although he had a mask on, I could tell he was flustered and not by the heat. “I’m really sorry, but the water has not fallen as quickly as I thought it would. We’ll need to wait until after two- I think wind at Great Yarmouth might be holding the tide in”. This was clearly not his fault so I thanked him and he asked me to call him at half two if he did not get chance to come over to us by then. The next hour was spent watching him take bathtubs and ex- Conoisseurs through while we waited, the sun growing hotter and the quay behind us getting ever more busy. It was not ideal. The Pilot’s situation was clearly much worse. As he got on boats by us, he was constantly taking calls from people, some of whom seemed to be getting irate when he told them that they would not be able to get through today. As he went back and forth he grew redder as he got hotter and hotter, yet he spoke to everyone in person and by phone with the utmost politeness. We both admired and felt really sorry for him simultaneously. At twenty five past two, he came aboard Fair Chancellor again. “Thanks for waiting Sir” he said “its now or never”. As he pulled out onto the river he explained that he had 6’10 under the bridge (our advertised air draft was 7ft) and that this would be close. When we went under he looked back with very visible relief. To say that there was a cigarette papers gap would be an exaggeration, but two cigarette papers would be a fair estimate. After bidding him a very heartfelt thank you as he got off the boat, we enjoyed yet another cruise along this stretch of the Bure. We would not be back along here until the last morning of the holiday, so I kept the speed down and took in the sights, enjoying the breeze on my face. We had been told to top up the water every other day but we were enjoying being out on the river again so much that we went on to the tiny boatyard on South Walsham Broad to use their water hose. We then had a leisurely run back up Fleet Dyke before turning left onto the Bure and left again down Ranworth Dyke. It was now 1745 and the pilot of a boat coming the other way called out “There’s no room” to me. I was unconcerned as I replied “we’re mudweighting”. Slowing down to a crawl we surveyed the banks of Malthouse Broad until we found a bay on the opposite side to the Staithe and cut the engine. After all these years, I was finally going to spend a night here. Having read good reviews of the takeaway pizza from The Maltsters, the boys and I hopped into the dinghy and rowed across to the staithe. I felt elated as we walked up to the pub, having not been in one since March 15th. I had not been back since pubs had reopened as I was paranoid about any case at my local leading to me missing out on the Broads when track and trace came calling. We ordered our pizza and then went in and got some drinks for while we waited. Sitting in the garden, my pint of Woodfordes Wherry tasted glorious. Matthew went to the staithe to check on Fair Chancellor on the far side of the Broad and reported back that Mum was sat on the back of the boat reading a book, so Janine was in a good place too. Observing the Covid set up of a pub at close quarters for the first time, the operation at The Maltsters seemed very well organized with a one way system and lots of hand sanitizer points. When the pizza was ready, we hot-footed it to the staithe and set out for the boat. “That’s my kind of pizza delivery service” said a man from the roof of a Herbert Woods boat as we exited the dinghy dyke. Ten minutes later we were eating the pizza in the open wheelhouse. It was really good with a nice crispy base and really thick cheese. Having put the roof up for the boys to go on the Playstation, Janine and I sat on the back of the boat where a few more beers were taken. It was great hearing the geese and ducks as the lights of other boats and those from the pub began to stand out against the darkening sky. The feeling of being surrounded by water was incredibly relaxing, more so when pleasing chimes came from the tower of St Helens on each hour. As was becoming a nightly ritual, Joseph and I had a cup of tea together at the back of the boat after our other two crew members had gone to bed. We then went ourselves at just gone eleven, taking the switching off of the lights outside the pub on the shore as a cue.

Thanks, Helen! I particularly enjoyed reading your tales, so that means a lot. Hylander- our first night mooring was on the starboard side of the Bure about a quarter of a mile before Thurne mouth. I spent my fist ever night on the Broads around there 33 years ago, so have always been particularly fond of that stretch.

Thanks for the feedback. If people get half as much pleasure out of this as I got from reading others tales that is fantastic. As soon as it was clear we would be coming back I spent the best part of a day reading this section of the site. Anyway, Day 2.... Tuesday 28th July Having gone straight to sleep I woke for a couple of hours in the night before drifting off again. When I got up at 700 it was sunny but very windy. Janine and I had a cup of tea on the back of the boat before the boys surfaced around 0800 and we began the cooked breakfast that we traditionally have to mark the first morning of any holiday that we take in the UK. The sausages from the Acle Co-Op were particularly good, adding my overall feeling of contentment. At 0950 we got under way and turned the boat round to head back to Wroxham and the bridge pilot. It was still windy so we kept the windscreen up, but the occasional sunny spell indicated that it could get warm later on and this was confirmed when the sun came out to play on a more permanent basis as we passed through Horning. We had plenty of time so we stuck to 4mph pretty much all the way, just enjoying being out on the water and the ever- strengthening sunshine. We reached the NBD yard at 1215 and performed another decent stern mooring before popping to Roys for a few things we had found we had forgotten. After a quick lunch and a water top-up I called the Pilot and 20 minutes later we were through. Wroxham had been its usual bustling self, but once topside of the bridge it was very quiet with only four boats coming the other way during the rest of the days cruising. We were initially concerned that this meant moorings would be in short supply but Castle Staithe was completely empty so this fear abated and we just concentrated on enjoying the tranquility of this glorious stretch of river in the sunshine. Our plan had been to go to Coltishall, but this was abandoned about 40 minutes later when it became apparent that the one mooring spot that constitutes Belaugh Church Staithe was free. After mooring, Joseph and Matthew went off in the dinghy while Janine and I had a cup of tea amidst our new surroundings. When the boys returned, we went up to Belaugh church for a closer look at the building I had long admired from the river. Although the building was closed (understandably given Covid) the churchyard was interesting. Upon our return to the boat, the boys went on the Playstation while Janine and I sat on the back of the boat and split a couple of bottles of ale. The scene around us was calm, punctuated by the odd boat passing in the direction of Coltishall. The sun had disappeared when we got back from the Church, but it was still warm so we had steak in the open saloon before Janine and I returned to the rear of the boat to finish the wine we had with tea and the boys returned to the Playstation. We than sat on the roof of the front cabin to enjoy the upstream view before Janine turned in. By now the boys had come out to enjoy the evening. As darkness came the wind died off and gaps in the cloud kept appearing to reveal a bright moon. We ended up having a further two cups of tea out there before turning in at about 1030.

It wasn’t meant to have been this long. We had a great holiday on the Broads in 2015 and although we had other things arranged for the following year everyone had enjoyed it to the extent that we were making plans to return in 2017. Our first holiday in 2016 was on a caravan park in Wales. Our boys Joseph and Matthew (then aged 12 and 7) really enjoyed being able to socialise with others of their age. A Eurocamp holiday later in the year confirmed this. I argued that this would be possible on the Broads as well, but it was pointed out that the fact we would be moving around would make this less easy. Eventually, I lost the debate given that there were still plenty of nice places we could go whilst giving the kids what they wanted. With the Broads being off the agenda for the foreseeable future, I stopped visiting the forum as I had no wish to read about something I enjoyed that I was not able to do. I would return one day, but until then my interest in everything relating to the Broads was placed into a kind of mental cold storage. Of course, the Covid outbreak interrupted the rhythm of holidays on which the boys regularly swapped addresses with friends that they had made over the course of our time away. Like most people, we deferred our plans for 2020 during the dark days of lockdown. When it appeared that some form of holiday would be possible later in the year, we had a family conference over a meal at Whitsun weekend to decide what we were going to do. We were not comfortable with the prospect of going abroad. Also out, we explained to the boys, was the sort of holiday they were used to. We would have as socially distanced a break as possible either in a property in the countryside somewhere……or on a boat. “Does that mean we can go to the Broads?” asked Joseph. Clearly there was some degree of residual fondness for our 2015 holiday. Soon it was agreed that, if possible, we would seek to go on the Broads the week we had planned to be away in the summer. Within a flash, I was swotting up on boats and on here trying to get the inside track on the latest situation a possible reopening. As signs became more positive, I succumbed and booked Fair Chancellor from Norfolk Broads Direct for the week from 27th July. About a week later came the news that overnight stays could begin again from 4th July. After a horrible few months, there was at least something to look forward to. Monday 27th July The day dawned with torrential rain but my mood was sunny in the extreme. My beloved Aston Villa were staying in the Premier League. Oh, and we were about to spend a week on the Broads! The roads were fairly quiet- we only went for a Monday start because that’s when the boat was available but this was far preferable to Saturday traffic. After lunch at Thickthorn services we headed for the Co-Op at Acle to get meat, dairy products and some local ales before heading to Wroxham. On arrival at twenty past two we were told that the boat was ready. When I stepped aboard I felt as if I knew the boat already, as NBD had sent us a number of videos the previous week showing how various things worked. I asked for a trial run given that it had been a while since I had helmed a boat, so I went out with both myself and the NBD employee masked up while my Wife Janine and the boys waited in the car. The run was very comprehensive. I had never had a boat with a bow thruster before and my guide gave me useful tips on how to use it to best to help with mooring. It was raining lightly and the roof was up, but visibility in this state was better than on previous boats we’d had. We returned and I did a passable stern-on mooring back in the yard and I was told that once I had collected life jackets we were free to pack the boat and go when we were ready. By the time we were ready the rain had stopped although the sky was still very grey, so I put the roof down just enough for me to stand at the helm. I had also called the Bridge Pilot to see if we could spend our first night on the Upper Bure, but as suspected we had narrowly missed low enough water and I was advised to return at about 1330 tomorrow. As we nosed out onto the Bure at about twenty past three I was reminded that there is no better feeling in the world than having just taken over a boat on the Broads. Fair Chancellor was 44ft long like the last boat that we had, but there seemed to be more boat in front of me and less behind than before which I preferred. By the time we reached Salhouse Broad the sun was trying to break through the clouds, so the roof went all the way back and my crewmates distributed themselves around the outside of the boat. Salhouse looked glorious as ever but having waited five years I wanted a good cruise today, so I planned to moor somewhere around St Benets. The river seemed quiet, although Horning was busy as usual. As we passed the entrance to Ranworth dyke the sun finally came out properly and my thoughts turned to our planned mooring. The last night of our 2015 holiday was spent on a quay headed mooring just past the pumping station on the right of the river with a view of St Benets. However, this stretch was now just reeds. I planned to turn round and go back to some suitable spots I had seen earlier, which was a blow as I would then have to turn again to moor into the tide. Just then, Janine spotted some flattened grass further up the river and as we got closer it became clear that this was suitable. As taught on my trial run, I came in at a 45 degree angle before turning away from the bank and getting the back in. With Joseph safely ashore I pushed the front in with the bow thruster and Janine got off. Within ten minutes the rond anchors were in and the boat was secure. Checking out our location more I could see Thurne mouth up ahead and we had a good view of the two windmills and Thurne Church. The sun was still out although it was quite windy and attractive clouds were forming in the big Norfolk sky. The nearest other moored boat was about 100 foot away from us (and it remained that way for the duration we were on the mooring). Now that’s what I call social distancing! Janine had put on a spaghetti bolognese at Horning, which was soon ready and we consumed it with the roof still down. After we had finished dark clouds began to form which looked stunning combined with the pink hue generated by the lowering sun. We put the roof up and got the onboard Playstation working for Matthew before the rest of us went out and sat on the back of the boat with coats on to admire the sunset with a drink. After a while, more dark clouds began to form in the direction of Horning and it soon became clear that rain was on the way. We felt a bit like inhabitants of the Praries watching an oncoming twister as the now precipitating clouds were being pushed towards us over the marshes by the wind. Closer and closer they got until a gust of wind followed by a cloudburst drove us indoors. Janine and Matthew went to bed while I made a Joseph and I a cup of tea. The rain stopped within ten minutes and there was still a low red glow in the sky, so we took the tea out onto the back of the boat and sat there listening to the water lapping against our dinghy. Lovely as it was it was cold in the wind so we came in and within 15 minutes were in bed.

Saturday 22nd August We all slept until the alarm went off at six. After a quick breakfast we finished our packing and then did a final sweep up and clean. The temperature was forecast to get close to 30 degrees today and it was warming up already. With the top and windscreen both down, we set off on our final journey of the holiday at 0730. As we headed East up the Thurne, the Broads decided to bow out with a spectacular sunrise. My camera was of course temporarily unavailable and Janine’s phone out of juice having been used as our camera for the previous night, so we were not able to record this. Turning left into Herbert Woods yard, I managed to avoid contact with the quay for the first time heading in this direction. I then headed for the far quay to which I had been told to return and a HW employee gestured for me to moor stern on in a gap between two other boats. The last time I had attempted such a mooring was above Wroxham Bridge and I had struggled with the limited space I had to line the boat up. This time I took it slowly, alternating between reverse and forward with the steering hard over until I was able to reverse square on to the quay. My best mooring yet went unnoticed amidst the hubbub of people unpacking their boats around me. Oh, the injustice!! After retrieving the car and packing it, I traipsed to reception with the reading from the dipped fuel tank. We had used £62.50 of diesel, which gave us a welcome £87.50 refund on the fuel deposit. After departing Herbert Woods my camera was retrieved following what, by the standards of the previous week, seemed like a ludicrously quick trip to The Bridge Inn by car. As well as providing an excellent family dining experience, this establishment was very kind and helpful in dealing with this situation as well. The boys had behaved really well for most of the week, so we decided to visit BeWILDerwood before the journey home. It seemed a shame to spend most of what was shaping up to be a very warm day in the car, so by quarter to ten we were in the queue to get in for when the gates opened. BeWILDerwood is essentially a very big adventure playground, but it is very well done and the shelter afforded by the woodland setting was very welcome in the increasing heat. The boys had a few hours running around, building dens and going on multiple zip slides before we had lunch and then headed off at about half past one. As we passed over Wroxham Bridge in the car I had a final, wistful look at the boats on the Bure. I had experienced a great week, but then I always knew that I would. What about the other aspects of the holiday and people involved? Magical Light was not the last word in luxury, but she never pretended to be. She was chosen primarily for her layout and this worked well for us. The aft well was a secure area where the boys could go and sit on their own whilst we were travelling and the two separate living areas were a real boon- especially on the nights Janine and I eat separately to the boys and we were able to give them the run of the wheelhouse to watch their DVD’s. In addition, the aft located Perkins engine was relatively quiet and used no oil. As with all boats, she had her foibles. There was a degree of play in the Morse controller which made it difficult to adjust the revs by small amounts for speed limits. The handle of the rear door snagged on the cutlery drawer, making it impossible to retrieve items unless the door was slid open. Also, the middle cabin would have been a squash for two adults (although it was fine for Joseph). However, Magical Light was a great home for the week overall. She was comfortable (especially when the beds were made the correct way up) and easy to manoeuvre considering her size. The spindles on the ships wheel at the helm acted as a good reference point to help me find the “straight ahead” position and the few mooring mishaps that we had were due to my lack of helming talent rather than anything to do with the boat. Herbert Woods were excellent as well. Everyone we dealt with there was unfailingly helpful and friendly- from the person who we phoned in February to change the date when my brother announced he was getting married on 1st August to the poor bloke Janine pounced on to ask for extra dinghy rope after my mishap entering the yard. As far as each of our party was concerned, Joseph had a great week. As expected he loved being on the water and around boats, but it was a delight to see how he got into the concept of mooring up in isolated locations. I had expected him to enjoy Salhouse Broad the most, but he much preferred our nights at wild moorings. As I alluded to at the beginning of the tale, we were concerned whether there was enough to occupy Matthew. There was, although he did not particularly take to the dinghy. He has always been a home-bird and he seemed to like the fact that we were able to take our abode for the week with us wherever we went. His interest in spotting birds and animals helped, as did the fact that he was very good about going into the front cabin whenever we were mooring. Janine got into it as the week went on. She had been to the Broads before, but without needing to get involved with mooring. As soon as she felt comfortable doing this and became satisfied that Matthew was safe, she relaxed visibly. She is up for doing it again, but would like to have a smaller and slightly more modern boat next time. I have agreed to these terms in order to secure our return. Not in 2016, unfortunately. Our holiday plans are already set in stone and we have neither sufficient leave nor budget to shoe-horn anything else in. However, we are discussing potential boats for 2017 (including one that does not have a centre cockpit- a huge departure for me). We may even get to have the holiday with my parents that we were not able to have this time. Whatever, it will not be another 14 years before we return.

Between The Sedge- I was referring specifically to the Bure between Thurne Mouth and Acle as not being my favourite stretch. Pretty much everything upstream from Thurne Mouth is wonderful (although if I had to pick a favourite river the Ant would just shade it for me). Final instalment of the tale and conclusions will follow. Thanks to you all for indulging me in reliving an excellent week. Looking forward very much to reading the tales of those of you who are lucky enough to be on the Broads over the coming weeks!! Best Wishes- Andy.

Friday 21st August Janine and the boys were up before me today as well- the Ant having clearly induced a state of complete calm within me. This coming evening we would need to moor close to Potter Heigham ready to return the boat the following morning, but I didn’t want to retrace our steps entirely. With this in mind we set out at 0745 with a lunch stop at The Bridge Inn, Acle in mind. Being close to Richardsons, we decided to call in there for water. However, upon surveying the busy scene that greeted us there we turned around quickly. I had completely forgotten that Friday was a major changeover day, even though on recollection most of the boats we had seen the previous afternoon and evening were Richardsons craft. I really must have been relaxed not to make the connection! Cruising back down the Ant, it was grey but getting ever warmer. As we crossed Barton Broad for the final time the sun came out, although there was more wind than yesterday. At Ludham Bridge I managed to tag onto the rear of Broadland Wave and follow her through. We were making good time, but still needed water so it was decided to head to South Walsham Broad again. There was a boat moored at the water hose at Russell’s, but we had a very pleasant ten minutes or so waiting out on the broad. It was nice to sit holding station in the sun, looking at the scenery and making the odd adjustment with the throttle and steering to maintain our position. With a full water tank again, we headed out onto the Bure and turned right at Thurne mouth to enter what for this holiday was virgin territory. Although not my favourite stretch of Broadland river, the Bure down to Acle does have a certain wild quality that I have always found appealing. This was emphasised by the fact that we were now heading into a strong wind and I had to saw at the wheel to keep the boat straight. Norfolk had also dished up one of its amazing big skies, with high, dark clouds contrasted by brilliant sunlight nearer the horizon. There were plentiful moorings at Acle so we tied up, closed up the boat and headed for The Bridge Inn. I can now see why it is so popular with families. Joseph is quite often torn between ordering food from the kids and adult menus, so the existence of a separate menu for older children was a boon. My chicken curry was very good, as was the obligatory pint of Wherry that I had it with. By this stage there was a lack of wine aboard Magical Light. This unacceptable state of affairs was rectified by Janine purchasing a bottle of rose from the bar to take away, whilst I took the boys outside for a spell on the playground. On the walk back to the boat we had a vote on where we would moor for the night. I was all for trying to get a space at Womack Island again, but I was outvoted three to one in favour of us returning to where we moored the first night. After two tree-sheltered nights on the Ant, my crew wanted to see a big sunset again. We had an uneventful cruise back up river before we came to the moorings on the left, which were completely vacant. As I drove the last rond anchor into the ground it occurred to me that this was the fifth mooring for which we had used the rubber mallet I had bought and that the average cost per mooring was now less than a pound. I was starting to think in the same way that I do whilst at home again- this was now the endgame. We set about cleaning and tidying the boat, packing away everything that we would not need for the coming night. Matthew helped sweep out the boat whilst Joseph mopped the decks again- why can’t they be this helpful without coercion at home? Janine was making the boys tea when I decided to take a few photographs. Whilst searching for the camera it struck me that I last recalled seeing it as I hung it on the back of my chair at The Bridge Inn. A phone number for the pub was retrieved frantically and I had a knot in my stomach as I dialled the number. Fortunately, the camera had been handed in and The Bridge were willing to hang onto it until the following morning, as I did not want to ruin the last evening by undertaking a mad dash to Acle and back. Crisis over, I opened a bottle of East Anglia Pale Ale poured it into two glasses and took them out onto the front roof to join Janine. As we sat looking at the views it seemed that there were people having a tipple on every craft that passed us. Seeing that we were drinking, most of them raised a glass in our direction or shouted out “cheers” at us. Unlike the day boat we saw at Ranworth, this was all done responsibly and in a low-key fashion. I was going to miss this. Just after five o’clock a phalanx of Herbert Woods boats went past, heading up river. The Friday hirers were on the loose and I was envious of them. Tobago Light was part of this procession, manned by a new crew who had the same look of delight with a hint of apprehension on their faces that I had six days previously. Magical Light would have different people on board the following day, a thought that made me feel melancholic. I was going to miss the old girl! After some pasta and pesto, Janine and I headed back out onto the roof with the remains of our bottle of rose to see our last Broadland sunset. The boys had decided to stay in one of the cabins playing on the iPad. We could hardly complain as they had hardly used it all week, but it was another way in which normality was starting to rear its unwelcome head. We were moored only about 50 yards away from where we had been on the first night, but in addition to St Benets Abbey we were also able to see the towers of Thurne and Ranworth Churches in this location. We were suitably blessed with the finest sunset of the holiday, with the setting sun backlighting a scattering of clouds with a pink hue. Just as the sun was about to disappear the boys emerged from the cabin. They wanted to come and join us on the roof. It was nearly dark but it would be a shame to come in yet, so they put their life jackets on and came out. We asked them if they would like to stay on a boat again and they both said “yes”. This seemed enough of a reason to open the last remaining alcohol on board- a bottle of Adnams Explorer. Janine and I were supping our ales when Matthew gave an excited cry. Against the darkening sky were a set of bright lights arranged in a triangular formation, coming slowly towards us. It was the Southern Belle heading downriver on her late night trip. As she came closer we could hear the sounds of people enjoying themselves on board. The boys waved at the oncoming boat, with the helmsman responding in kind. As the revellers onboard noticed the four of us on deck they waved as well. It was a lovely moment and Matthew in particular was made up by it. This seemed a good juncture to get the boys to bed, after which we had another cup of tea in the darkened wheelhouse. It had been a lovely evening and the sadness I had felt earlier on had gone- we were so lucky to have had the week we had just experienced. Janine then went to bed while I checked the ropes and locked up. There was a bright light upriver, which turned out to be a private boat equipped with night lights mooring a few hundred yards ahead of us, an operation they performed commendably quietly. As I drifted off to sleep the last thing I heard was the distant and pleasant sound of rond anchors being tapped into the ground.

My technical gremlins have abated, so here are pictures from Wednesday and Thursday. Friday's tale to follow a little later. JOHN- I kept a diary, which I wrote up religiously before going to bed each night to ensure I captured everything.