Scow on the Thames 2009: 19th June - The Tideway: Central London and beyond...

'Soaring' past the Houses of Parliament - 19 June

Master Mariner had skilfully arranged the entire odyssey to end on kindly tides through London (11:30 at London Bridge) so we had a leisurely 09:15 start. We spent the first hour unravelling shrouds, stays, sheets, painters, warps, springs and banana skins after a slightly undignified and extremely delayed arrival at Cadogan Pier the night before. (We thank all of you who live nearby and turned out last night to witness the crew crawl shivering onto the pontoon.)

Hair and make-up for Figurehead and the Ship’s Bimbo, but Master Mariner declined the opportunity, citing time and tide, and we left Cadogan Pier in naval time for our journey downriver to the Houses of Parliament. Unfortunately, being early isn’t always best, and the tide was still on a furious flood. We hugged the south bank and ‘soared’ under sail and oar with an escort provided by the RNLI (one Chiswick and two Tower lifeboats) and Commander James Ekins in his RIB. At the critical moment the wind decided to take a short break, forcing Master Mariner to row across the river to Westminster on a flood tide; the Ship’s Bimbo and Figurehead then did shifts on the blades in front of Parliament. Never again will we complain about rowing out to a Bembridge harbour mooring. Keen to test the nation’s security, we toyed with the idea of ‘soaring’ inside the yellow security buoys. However, the sight of several blokes with sub-machine guns trained on Figurehead sent us scurrying for Westminster Bridge.

Once the tide turned, we screamed down the river towards Tower Bridge. This stretch is like the M25, Hyde Park Corner without traffic lights, Marble Arch, the Solent on a sunny bank holiday and Rome rolled into one; tugs towing colossal barges, aggressive ferries and vast catamaran water taxis, all driven by white van Italian man on a boiling, swirling, soupy tide, a Thorpe Park ‘Stealth’ of a ride.

On a powerful ebb and with a force 5 westerly behind us, we ran past Greenwich, radioed permission to pass through the Thames Barrier and then Gannet Ripple settled comfortably to her task. Here our river charts ended. We had dropped off the edge of the riverine world. As we fished around for our sea charts in Master Mariner’s handbag, it felt as though Gannet Ripple herself knew she was back where she belonged – massive container ships, channel buoys, cardinal marks and one heck of a tide. She is truly a sea boat and, whilst making an incredible 7.6 knots over land, the shake of the wind in her sail and the slap under her hull, she sounded at home for the first time since we left Gloucestershire 8 days before.

At times it became a howling, Magwitch of a landscape; grey scudding clouds lowered over mile upon mile of rotting, skeletal factories, redundant chimneys, hillocks of stinking landfill, the odd wind turbine and distant towerblocks. Occasionally, with a chill wind on our backs, we would pass signs of life: a belching stack, sliding cranes, a dirty British coaster, and gliding portainers at quietly active Friday afternoon Tilbury.

After travelling 30 miles from Chelsea, and given that our trusty scow was only insured up to 5 nautical miles off land, we decided to call it a day. With Thameshaven, Canvey Island, Southend and the open sea in sight, we executed a final lap of honour and the Gravesend lifeboat escorted us to an RNLI swing mooring just off Gravesend Sailing Club.