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To the canoes! …was the rally cry come Saturday morning as @AnnaJCowen and I decided to sea test the kayaks that make us feel like we are proper sailing types.

Ahem.

Having bought a couple of basic entry level models from a rather charming sailing shop just outside of Clactonia, a whole month has passed where they have been sitting in the dry dock that doubles up as a back garden.

Whoops.

Time and tide, ‘n all that, and bugger me - we’ve not exactly been blessed of late with a tidal pattern that can be easily accommodated into a weekday and weekend working pattern.

A detailed study of the tidal charts and a consultation of the shipping forecast the night before (I lie - high tide for Brightlingsea - there’s an app for that…) and we were scheduled to be sea bound shortly after 1pm on Saturday.

But first how to get the beasts down to the Quay? This has been occupying my mind a lot of late. It’s not quite on par with a Middle East peace proposal, but warfare of sorts broke out around the regions of Park Road on Saturday.

Apologies to m’neighbours - the girl and I got in a strop over straps. The Rolls Royce of kayak trolleys had been bought, but the small print overlooked attaching the kayaks to the rock ‘n roll wheels.

No worries. A trip to B & Q and some industrial strength ratchet ties were ours for the taking. But not for the tying. We bodged a solution of sorts, and then fell flat on our feet before we even hit the Colne Social Club.

Back to basics it was, and we resorted to the good old-fashioned backbreaking method of carrying the canoes by the handles down to the Sailing Club. The High Street was well off our radar - no one wants to see a feuding couple encased in tight black rubber with additional S & M cable straps wandering past the Deli on a Saturday lunchtime.

Anglesea Road was a pain, but the pleasure was all to come once we hit the water. Wivenhoe is surprisingly short on slipways - there’s either the old Sailing Club entry point by the Ferry launch, or out towards the barrier and the current Sailing Club location.

It was to our very good fortune that just as the champagne bottles were smashed against the hull (not as a symbolic gesture, but as something of a tonsil tickler before hitting the water) we encountered another canoeing couple.

Cripes.

Tips were exchanged, black bondage was mutually admired.

And then we were water bound.

Blimey.

I potted about in canoes as a youth, thinking that a bright red phallic fibreglass body would aid my sexual chances. I know how to control my wrist action, especially so when sitting in an unnatural position.

It was to my great joy then to relive this moment of frisson from my youth, making those first few strokes into the muddy water of the Colne and drifting dangerously close to the flood barrier.

I looked back at the girl and found that she hadn’t even managed to wriggle free of the slipway. I’ve always doubted her technique, to be honest.

It may be a beast to carry down to the Quay, but the kayak glides like an absolute beauty once you are in the water. Observing Wivenhoe from a low water level provides a stunning new perspective.

You can of course get over-romanticised about a bloody canoe, but there was a great sense of history approaching the town from the water, something that generations of folk in Wivenhoe have been accustomed to.

Soon we were paddling past the Rose and Crown, onwards along the side of West Quay and then a sharp left up the Roman River. Fingringhoe had to be done, and preferably so before the already outgoing tide stranded us.

Five minutes up the twist and curves of the Roman River, and the North Essex aquatic nature totally immerses you. Thankfully no baptisms took place along the muddy waters of the North Essex estuary on Saturday afternoon.

Various birdlife accept you as part of their environment, flying incredibly close along the water and offering up spectacular viewing points. The Pisces within was a one happy man in a canoe. Meanwhile the Libra that is @AnnaJCowen was struggling to balance her boat, let alone her astrological scales.

We actually got lost up the Roman River - how is that possible? I’m not entirely sure, but we also managed to get lost along the Wivenhoe Trail the first time that we cycled it. The welcoming tower of St Mary’s was our guiding principle back to base.

A brief paddle upstream towards Rowhedge, and then a drift along with the outgoing tide back to the Sailing Club. Saturday afternoon tea was calling, as well as a hot shower. The Colne really is very mucky little pup.

And so a success of sorts. The struggle with the canoes back to base ‘aint great. We’re exploring other options (*cough* Sailing Club membership…)

But yeah - footloose and fancy free to explore the Colne, the Creek and all the many tributaries in-between. Any excuse to become encased in thick, black rubber.

When Saturday Comes and all you want to do with your Wivenhoe weekend is to read the papers in bed, take an afternoon wander down to the Quay and then stumble out of The Station sometime before the National Lottery winners are announced.

No chance.

To the Farmer’s Market! …was the rallying call to kick start the weekend for @AnnaJCowen and I. The Congregational Hall had the usual fine local produce on sale, as well as some charming conversations with traders who like to talk, rather than concentrate on the hard sell.

We didn’t come out with a wicker basket brimming with North Essex country fare, but a rucksack stuffed full of sausage meat and beetroot. These will come in handy, believe me.

The Wivenhoe Community Safety Neighbourhood Watch Group also had representation. It’s good to be a local busy body etc, but don’t have nightmares. The recent police crime map for this area in April may look a little alarming, but out of the eleven incidents of violent crime, only four were reported in Wivenhoe, with the remaining seven coming from our friends over in Rowhedge.

must.pay.a.trip.to.rowhedge.later.in.the.day

But first off, how about keeping up the busy body theme and poking yer face around local garages?

Blimey.

Nope, it’s not a new obsessive architectural peccadillo that is affecting the North Essex estuary, but the Grand Garage Trail kindly organised by the good folk of St Mary’s Church.

Hurrah!

Originally started by Cansdale and Ross under the Wivenhoe Braderie banner two years ago, the Grand Garage Trail is now a glorified car boot sale taking place around the town.

Maps were purchased the day before, and then much like the splendid Open Gardens of last month, we wandered around Wivenhoe and were welcomed into the properties of various folk around the town.

The event was as broad and as bonkers as you wanted it to be. Many garages were doing great business in re-selling on children’s toys that have been outgrown. Local art also featured heavily. I was disappointed in not being able to walk away with the underground safe on sale along the High Street.

It all got a little lost as we wandered into the Loveless Hall by mistake - often the best way to wander into the Loveless Hall - and found that we had strayed into a separate sale organised by the Colchester Twins Club.

Double cripes.

Cake was on hand to calm us down, and to give us a kick up the backside to take on the remaining Grand Garage Trail down towards the Quay.

A quick chat at Curiosity, and we reflected on the quality of the stock sold within. But time and tide wait for no Grand Garage Trailers, and as we exited left along Station Road, we saw that the legendary Grand Garage dinghy has been bought, and was already being prepared for a launch at the Rowhedge Regatta later in the day.

No worries.

The girl and I made up for our nautical loss with some lovely bargains of our own. A pair of panniers, a darts board, a kitchen chair and a chopping board (free from Builder Mark, natch) - all clocked in at precisely £10.

The panniers in particular were quite a find - the conversation that followed was priceless. It seems that I’m not alone with my Moulton collection within Wivenhoe.

The town undoubtedly has many talents, but topping the list for me is the claim to fame of the chap I purchased the panniers off - he only test rode the original Moultons back in the day.

Chapeau!

Seedy exchanges followed, with an ill met by iPhone fading light presentation of the bonkers multi-coloured Moulton. I’ve still to actually ride the machine around the town. @AnnaJCowen reckons that even the ‘homosexual meets the beast‘ hybrid of the design is a little risqué, even for Wivenhoe.

Was that the day done, Comrades?

Nope - we’ve barely started. Booze had yet to feature, and there’s nothing I like more than a Wivenhoe lunchtime tipple whilst admiring quality local artwork and enjoying local conversations.

To the Wivenhoe Gallery! …etc for the opening of the Spanish Paintings exhibition by local artists Michael and Julia. Running for two weeks down at the Wivenhoe Business Centre, the rich Mediterranean landscapes are most certainly worthy of a visit.

The love of the Spanish culture came across in the artwork, and the conversation that followed with Michael and Julia. I pressed them on the possibilities for their future muse, and was pleased to hear that Wivenhoe landscape painting is certainly a work in progress.

With my lunchtime muse of red wine having fired me up, I was ready to stand on the edge of the Quay, survey the Rose and Crown customers and gaze out with a glazed over eye across the estuary and declare:

“To Rowhedge!”

Oh Lordy.

The fighting talk of the red plonk has sunk many a galleon, but not the Wivenhoe and Rowhedge Ferry. This was Regatta Day for that other lot on the opposite banks of the Colne. It only seemed polite to turn up and see how our near neighbours can put on a party.

We weren’t alone in our Wivenhoe wanderings. It seemed that half of the town had pitched up at either The Anchor or The Albion, observing the sea crafts of differing sizes sail past. There was always the possibility of some riverside rubbernecking as a particularly graceful smack came close to cutting up a kayak.

Whoops.

Crabbing, as ever, was incredibly popular. The hit and miss weather seemed to fit perfectly with the Dark Side theme. With the waters of the Colne disappearing faster than my pint of Kent Best, concern soon turned towards how the chuffers we could get back to base.

No one wants to be stranded in Rowhedge on a Saturday evening, but the Kent Best booze was making a decent job of damage limitation. A catch up with the fine @Colchester101 - whoops there goes another pier, whoops there goes another pint of beer, etc.

Anything that Wivenhoe can do, Rowhedge of course likes to think that it can do better. We don’t like to talk about *shhh* the May Fair police helicopter, and I’m sure Rowhedge folk were a little weary of the chopper action overhead on Saturday.

I’m not usually one to deal with rumours (oh no, not me, Sireee…) but talk did turn to the possible return of the random Rowhedge tired and emotional swimmer.

Oh Lordy.

One thing that Rowhedge definitely does do better than Wivenhoe is to assemble together a group of local males who then tug away on a large rope in tandem.

“We’re from Wivenhoe - we drink beer, not pull rope” was the rallying cry that was later rolled out to justify the slip slidin’ spectacle of the Wivenhoe Tug of War team.

The Rowhedge chaps may be great at tugging away, but no so brilliant on the booze front. Chundering quayside just ahead of the grand Tug of War final is not quite dignified estuary etiquette, Sir.

With the estuary water now looking as limp as the Wivenhoe tug of war team effort (said the poncey bloke watching from the sidelines…) contingency plans were needed for the Great Escape.

Cometh the hour, cometh the good @Colchester101, who kindly drove us all the way down to the Hythe, and then back up Clingoe Hill once again. There was to be one more surprise waiting for us back at base - a new houseguest staying in the shed.

Meowww.

Moving Image was on our Saturday evening radar. Ever one to keep it local, the screening of Fishtank was trumped by a lovely, lovely hyperlocal invite to… go round next door for an evening of games and booze.

Brilliant!

And so just another quiet Wivenhoe weekend, you say?

Wivenhoe - you are wearing me out. But you wear it out oh so well.

Full flickr stream over here.

With the Wivenhoe, Fingringhoe and Rowhedge Ferry now sailing for the summer season, I thought that it was about time that @AnnaJCowen and I explored the Dark Side across the banks of the Colne.

An aborted mountain bike scramble across the Rowhedge Lagoons during those dark, depressing estuary winter days didn’t exactly endear us to that other lot across the Colne. My mountain bike met its match; I met a great big stinking fresh cowpat, which was amazingly the only organic substance that hadn’t frozen solid.

There is something much more civilised though to messing about on the water. For a town that has a history and heritage based around boats, sailing along the estuary provided a lost link to the old and new.

Ever respectful of the river tide, there is roughly a three and a half hour window of opportunity to flirt between Fingringhoe and Rowhedge. With friends staying for the weekend, we chose the Rowhedge route for our first sail. I don’t think I could have kept a straight face explaining that we were off to Fingringhoe.

Running approximately every half hour, it is this relaxed way of working that is the appeal of the Wivenhoe Ferry. Dashing to make the 9:23 out of Wivenhoe Station once a week does my head in. Travel is all about the enjoyment of the journey, and not about a means to an end in reaching your destination.

And so with a half of lager shandy in my hand from the Rose and Crown, we waited by the Ferry boathouse. Our fellow passengers were a young family and a charming dog. Transporting animals and bicycles is at the discretion of the Skipper. You’ll probably be fine with a hound, but I wouldn’t push your luck with a horse.

With the Ferry Man paid (and a bloody ear worm of Chris De Burgh) a single fare of £1.50 was a bargain price for exploring somewhere so close, yet so far away. I made sure that a return leg was possible - spending the evening stranded in Rowhedge wasn’t on the sea faring radar.

We passed a couple of eager young canoeists during our crossing, as well as a tired and emotional crew on a craft that was doing its best Oxford University Boat Race sinking impression. The good Captain was swigging from a bottle of red, and toking on a fag end. If yer gonna go down, best do it in style, fella.

And then just under ten minutes later, we landed.

What now? Bugger off back to Wivenhoe?

Um… Nope. A swift pint in the The Anchor soon became something of an early evening session. This is truly a delightful local pub - a charming landlord, a well-kept beer cellar and the most pleasing of toilets this side of, oh, Fingringhoe up the road.

Fast becoming tired and emotional ourselves, you can see how the booze has the effect of some rather boastful boyhood behaviour from some folk around these parts. Bugger that - a quick consultation with the brilliant Ferry Timetable programme, and our return sail was soon waiting.

Chin chin.

The programme to accompany the 2011 season of sailing has been lovingly put together by the small group of volunteers that so kindly keep the service running. It is worthy of a blog post alone, such is the quality of the beautiful content and ideas based around sailing along the banks of the Colne.

Poems about the river and woods, a short story from David Williams and the usual exceptionally high stand of local bird illustrations from Richard Allen, Wivenhoe’s bird watch supreme. Historical maps sit beautifully with the as ever striking linocuts from James Dodds.

The Chairman’s Note looks ahead to the 2012 season - the 20th anniversary of the restoration of the Wivenhoe Ferry. Funding remains an issue as ever. Special thanks is given to Mr Mayor for kindly offering his support through the Mayor’s Charity Fund, as well as generous support front the Wivenhoe Regatta Committee and RBS. Local businesses advertise in the programme, proving that the benefits of the local economy working closely with local service providers.

Having made the brief journey over to the Dark Side, we soon found ourselves back in The Station, purely as part of a scientific experiment to compare and contrast the booze from both sides of the Colne.

New possibilities have now been opened up to us - the Rowhedge Strawberry Fayre in the Village Hall on the 9th July, anyone?

Anchor’s up. Bottom’s up.

Chin chin.

Here’s something of a brief plug for the fine folk running the Wivenhoe, Fingringhoe and Rowhedge Ferry. Nope - not they’re not looking for potential Sea Captains, but poetry and prose all about Wivenhoe. Even better if the words take on aquatic approach.

As part of the programme that will be printed ahead of the new season, some words of Wivenhoe wisdom are required. No mention if Fingringhoe or Rowhedge inspired artistic prose will suffice.

Um, good luck, neighbours…

Catherine Alexander is your contact, and the need is rather urgent. A brief of 300 - 500 words has been mentioned, but I think that anything that you think will fit the ferry theme would be most welcome.

My first thoughts were with Poetry Wivenhoe, Millfields and Broomgrove. Can anyone help here, please?

My time here in Wivenhoe is sadly too short so as not to have experienced the ferry as yet. With a programme currently being planned, and with the request coming in as URGENT, then it can’t be too long before I find my Fingringhoe sea legs.

Now then:

There was a young man new to Wivenhoe
Across to Fingringhoe he thought he would go
The ferry was late
He missed his date
And ended up back at home fing…

Naughty Jase. VERY naughty.