To say I'm a reluctant East Coast sailor is a bit of an understatement. Though the place certainly has its attractions it seems to be lacking in one significant area: water. There hardly is any. The Suffolk/Essex coast can best be described as an area of shallow puddles surrounded by mud. We're there because of two factors: economics and convenience. We can't afford to keep the boat anywhere else and still be within reasonable driving distance of home. Still, things being what they are, we might as well make the most of it.

In that view, and with 2 days of reasonably nice weather forecast, we planned a trip to Bradwell (another shallow puddle). Easterly 4-5 with nice blue, sunny skies and a perfect neap tide to boot. Too good an opportunity to miss and widen our horizons at the same time. Offspring remained at home on dog-sitting duty.

Fox's to Bradwell is just over 36NM - feasible on one tide. And with favourable wind, a pleasant enough trip. And it was. A lovely sail down, one of the best of the year. However, the echosounder kept me on my toes. Once it starts showing less than 3 meters I can never truly relax. I must admit that my nav planning was partly at fault. It had been a quick rush job on the plotter. So people, the lesson for today is: always use paper charts (they show all the details all the time as they have no 'zoom') for your passage planning. Bar a few unscheduled course adjustments the trip was entirely uneventful. We had made good time too - arriving an hour earlier than planned. HW-3 - entry into Bradwell Creek would be 'interesting'.

Just when you think things are going too well and you start to get just a bit too complacent, life has a way of sorting you out. I had called up the marina prior to entry and we had been advised that we would have to raft. Fine - fenders at an appropriate level - just below the toerail. We crawl into the creek (only touched ground once) to find in the marina that there was no raft and we would be on a pontoon. Not enough time to lower the fenders and a brisk easterly (18-20kts) blowing us off the pontoon. First approach was close, but no cigar. Second a lot worse. Third time proved to be a charm. Secure after some internal swearing at the locals. Boats whizzing past you left right and centre when you're obviously having some difficulties... : not exactly helpful. But all is well that ends well. The wind genny pole came off second best in an argument with a Mobo anchor and a XO sported a rather bruised left hand. But alive and kicking and ready to fight another day.

After a cup of tea to settle the nerves, a trip to the pub for some sustenance. The menu looked good, though the much-hyped food was somewhat of a disappointment. Whilst you could not say it was bad in any way, it obviously came straight out of the microwave. Understandably maybe as the place was heaving. Will give the place a second chance this winter. Quiet night on the boat with a book and a movie - life was good.

Sailed back the next day. More of the same: some motoring, going like a train in a brisk reach, gentle downwind sail up the river. Fell in love with the boat all over again. Even the battered XO made sounds of approval. There is hope for us yet. After years of just pottering about, I think we may finally have found our ideal WE destination (providing winds and tides play along).

To be continued.