From Deptford to the Deben by barge

For literary reasons, we will take our imaginary trip in 1881.  It is mid-November and fortunately the weather is set fair; this has been a year of dramatic weather extremes. Repairs have been made from the Great Storm of a few weeks ago; thankfully we were on a sheltered berth at the time. We are supernumerary aboard Augusta with George Brooks as Captain, although at nineteen we would think him young to have such responsibility today.¹There were skippers as young as 17, for example Fred Cooper author of Racing Sailorman, – this is supported by discussion on the Facebook group Thames Sailing Barges Augusta is fairly new at six years old and tiller rather than wheel steered. These long tillers were sometimes known as “rib ticklers”²Rib tickler – see www.iims.org.uk glossary which is a significant understatement. Ben Page, who was aged thirty-five, is the mate although it is possible that Fred Strange, who was to become a very able master, might be making his first trip, at age twelve he would be skipping school however. We will do our best as a poor substitute for a third hand.

London is, at this time, the world’s largest city, busiest port and the hub of the widest empire there has ever been. Our voyage began after unloading our cargo of cement at one of the hundreds of wharves on the London River (the Thames), and then loading a new cargo at Deptford Gasworks. We are carrying coke breeze, a bulky but light cargo, to the Waldringfield Cement Works: the hatch covers are set vertically to make more space, and the cargo is covered by tarred sheets. We sailed down the very busy London River, passing the Nore where, sadly, our craft will meet her end in 1902.

Next, along the Swin where in a few years Packard’s Dewdrop and our sister ship Elsie Bertha will meet their fate: through the Spitway and along the Wallet. Harwich and Felixstowe look very different with only marshes where the dock cranes now dominate the scene. The seamarks are unfamiliar, particularly the Cork Lightship gently bobbing up and down.

We would love to tell the tale of that trip in full but that would cause us to miss the tide so we will move on. In contrast to where we’ve been, our destination is an insignificant place, on a small river, even by British standards; but it is home. Before we reached Felixstowe, George was at pains to ensure the ship was tidy and the sails were set perfectly. He told me that Frank Mason, the firm’s proprietor sometimes visits from Ipswich and may see us pass. Frank Mason has soft spot for Augusta for family reasons that we will discover later.

By the time we reach Bawdsey Haven, we are under topsail alone with our anchor hove short. The tide has turned against us which is convenient for anchoring in about two and a half fathoms. The experience of raising the leeboard and then stowing the mainsail which, confusingly for modern sailors, must be raised, not lowered, to reduce or stow, has left the writer exhausted. Ben Page, with a career of digging mud instead of clicking a mouse, shows no strain at all.

The Cement Works may have sent a boy up the Pilot’s path to check on our arrival, as from it, he might be able to see us at the entrance to the river.

We ate our lunch at anchor and could see the pall of smoke from our destination upriver.  There was also smoke from the warships of the world’s largest navy at Harwich, still running on coal. To a modern-era sailor, the amount of shipping to be seen was astounding.  Square riggers going to and from the Orwell, paddle steamers across to Holland and elsewhere, as well as shipping in the distance traversing the North Sea. There were also many fishing boats in sight. What we had then was almost the reverse of what we have now. The windmills were arranged around the land rather than being out to sea and the traffic was at sea rather than on land. Overall, this is a very much busier scene than the one with which we are familiar in the 2020s.

We would do well to enter the Woodbridge River (Deben) on the flood tide so that we would lift off if we touch as well as be carried upriver by the stream.  Some barges used tugs to enter and leave the river and Packards, see later, had several³.Barges using tugs –  Arnott, W.G. (1950) Suffolk estuary : the story of the river Deben. and Barges on the Deben by Robert Simper. To get the flood into the river we came past Harwich on the late ebb and lay at anchor until mid-tide.

The Deben has a bar and the narrow channel aligns somewhere between south to north or east to west although that changes over time. We would not want north westerlies. There is a charted depth of around 2 ft (0.5m).  A Military survey conducted in 1940 to assess the risk of enemy landings on the East Coast described the entrance to the Deben:

 A sand bar about ¼ mile offshore would limit passage to boats with a draft of four or five feet to half tide and above. The mouth of the Deben was narrow and difficult to approach.

A Barge’s length is nearly half of the width of the channel at the entrance, although the channel changes year by year.  Being grounded there would be uncomfortable so there is not much room for error, especially with no engine. The tides at the Deben’s entrance are strong, perhaps four or five knots at times, and uncomfortable wind over tide conditions can occur on the ebb in south easterly winds. Those without recent experience of the entrance would be wise to engage one of the pilots from Felixstowe Ferry; the fee was 10/- (50p) when money had value, but well worth it.⁴The Pilot may have been a requirement at the time for some vessels,. R. Simper Woodbridge and Beyond, The fee was 10/- – 1892 Sailing tours by Frank Cowper This fee had still not changed by 1965 but is probably slightly more than 50p today.

From the Deben entrance, it is 6.5 nautical miles (NM) or 12 km to Waldringfield and 9 NM (16 km) to Woodbridge. There is adequate depth to Waldringfield, but it is shallower beyond. The prevailing wind direction is southwesterly, so sailing at about 50° from the true wind it should be possible to sail from the sea up to Waldringfield without winding through the wind (tacking).

At anchor nearby was Packard’s Nautilus from Ipswich, unladen and going upriver to load coprolite; we let her go first. George prudently signals for the pilot to meet us, as the recent gales will have affected the channel. We weighed anchor with the writer pretending to turn the winch handle while Ben did all the work.  Wisely, we did this before the Three Sisters, weighed anchor, as she was carrying a load of street muck from the capital and not smelling sweet.

The wind was favourable, so we set the topsail and foresail leaving the mainsail brailed up. This gave us more control in the narrow entrance. Being free on the wind we didn’t need leeboards so could minimise our draught over the bar. On the Bawdsey Cliff, we noticed the large leading mark for shipping in the Sledway.

We did not see Bawdsey Manor as it had not yet been built; this meant that we also saved negotiating the chain ferry. Coming from seaward we boarded our pilot near the Deben Bar buoy. There were then leading marks, which the pilot aligned to get through the narrow Swatch, leaving the Martellos and Coastguard cottages to port. We then sailed through the Narrows and along Horse Reach, avoiding the Horse (a sandy one with no legs) to port.

Then we sail into Fleet Reach: many fishing boats were moored or anchored in this stretch but helpfully in the shallower water on the western bank. Then we unbrailed the mainsail to increase our progress. Fortunately, for all concerned, it is on this relatively expansive reach that we encountered Rachel & Julia sailing downriver with her huge stack of hay and mainsail brailed up to clear it. We were on port tack as we would be all the way upriver. A digression into “porting the helm” and collision regulations is tempting but we will resist.

Next, we round Green Point then and along Dock Reach leaving Ramsholt Dock to starboard. The riverbanks shelve gently along here and are nice soft mud. From here the navigable channel gets quite narrow. Then, we turn into Kirton Creek Reach.

This was a good place to light our pipes as the smell from the Ipswich sewage sludge being unloaded from a barge in Kirton Creek was dreadful. In a few decades, the Three Sisters, behind us, will end her days there.

Next around Rock Point into Rocks Reach with its fickle winds. From here we were guided by beacons, just posts or withies with top marks in the mud, as in the early twentieth century. We are unsure if they have improved since the 1845 Deben Survey which says: ‘The Beacons…are of a very inferior description’. The pilots were responsible for marking the river but depended upon the difficulty of the river for their livelihood. Perhaps they knew where their best interests lay?

We left Rock Beacon to port then along Bowships Reach leaving Beacon No.3 to port. Here, our pilot disembarked and rowed back to Felixstowe Ferry against the slackening tide.

There were a couple of men digging mud here, but we will meet them later. Next in Horse Reach, unsurprisingly, there was a Horse (the sandy type again) to starboard, still there in the mid-twentieth century but now gone.

As we progress upstream, we are pleased to realise that much of our river looks very familiar and appears quite similar in the modern era to our 1881 trip. The only significant difference is the growth of our own village.

At Waldringfield Reach, it is possible for a flat-bottom barge to settle on the beach or lay at anchor. There were mooring posts on the beach as shown in the postcard from 1938; these would have enabled barges to moor whilst afloat and then settle for loading or unloading.

There was also, of course, the Quay at the Cement Works.  In the twenty-first century, our river is crowded with moored yachts along most of the village’s riverfront. In the late nineteenth century, this was not a problem but there was sailing barge traffic at the beach, the Quay, and coming to and from Woodbridge. This all converges at Waldringfield in a narrow part of the, already restricted,  channel. To increase the excitement for everybody the vessels going one way are likely to be close-hauled, probably on starboard tack, if coming downriver.

Downriver of the Bush Inn, now the Maybush, was just foreshore as; there were no beach huts, no Sailing Club, and no tenders, adorning the beach. We may well have seen another sailing barge waiting to settle on the mooring posts to load, or offload. Unless we’ve had a slow passage upriver the tide would be ebbing by now, so we do not need to go about to come to a halt. With Waldringfield Beacon to starboard, we prepared to berth at the Quay and looked forward to a sharpener in the pub. We saw our colleague Gareth Thomas halfway through his village walk and thought we would use the two half-crowns (25p) in our pocket to buy a slap-up lunch for him, his companion and our hungry crew. When the mud diggers get back we will stand them a pint just to keep them sweet. There should still be change left for our fare home. This raises the question of how the crews, many of whom lived in Ipswich and district, got to and from the village. Not easy, even today, without a car or bicycle.

Unfortunately, at this point, George told us that before we can take our leisure or see our ladies, we needed to unload the hundred tons of cargo. By the time we had finished this, the tide had ebbed, and an altercation had broken out on the beach. Ben, unlike the writer, still had the energy and inclination to join in this brawl  It would have, been made a good scene for our pioneering village photographer T.N. Waller to record, but we were a few years too early.

We’re happy to stop at Waldringfield. However, if we wanted to go to Woodbridge, as well as needing plenty of tide, we may also need to tack in the narrow channel just past Methersgate into Troublesome Reach; the name is a hint. Alternatively given enough water we could go through the new Loder’s Cut, made in 1879, then have a straight run to Woodbridge.

Sailing downriver from Woodbridge presents more difficulty. We would need half tide to leave and it could be testing to tack down the narrow channel from Methersgate to Waldringfield. There were several techniques used to make progress if there was no wind or if it was adverse. We will not explore them here, other than to say that they generally seemed like jolly hard work.  At high water, a route behind our island should be possible; Melissa has travelled this recently. However, we can leave Waldringfield at any state of the tide so can choose a time shortly after high water to go downriver;  this would ensure a good tidal lift around the awkward stretches. Tacking could be needed opposite Falkenham Creek and yet more past the Ferry in the narrow channel to the bar.  If conditions were right, we might choose to leave earlier in order to arrive at Felixstowe Ferry near high water for easy passage over the bar. Southbound vessels would ideally wish to leave the Deben on the half flood. This would probably mean anchoring somewhere near the Felixstowe Ferry while the tide rose. Departing the river on a falling tide would leave little room for error and make the tide adverse unless northbound.  The attractions of a rising tide are offset by the power of the flood, which could prove insurmountable to a sailing vessel. A south-easterly wind would be more difficult and could make the bar somewhere between unpleasant and dangerous. On balance then the Deben is a more difficult proposition than the Blackwater, Stour or Orwell, but apart from that, it is a lovely place to sail.

• 1
  There were skippers as young as 17, for example Fred Cooper author of Racing Sailorman, – this is supported by discussion on the Facebook group Thames Sailing Barges
• 2
  Rib tickler – see www.iims.org.uk glossary
• 3
  .Barges using tugs –  Arnott, W.G. (1950) Suffolk estuary : the story of the river Deben. and Barges on the Deben by Robert Simper.
• 4
  The Pilot may have been a requirement at the time for some vessels,. R. Simper Woodbridge and Beyond, The fee was 10/- – 1892 Sailing tours by Frank Cowper