By Jeff Dray

Gaffers At Poole Quay

      Perhaps I should introduce myself. I live on the south coast of England, in Poole in the county of Dorset. I have always been fascinated by boats and sailing and last year I built my first boat.  I have been lurking on the BYYB bulletin board for some months now and have learnt quite a lot about boat building from it, not least of all how cheap good quality plywood is in the USA!
     I live a few yards from Poole Quay, for those of you not familiar with England's south coast and who need more precise references: Lat. 50° 42.8' N, Long. 01° 59.2' W I have yet to see a Weekender here so if there is anyone in England sailing one please let me know and perhaps you could be the subject of my next piece.
     I am officially not allowed to build one myself, my wife would kill me. When I built the 8 footer things got very strained and I am now sweetening her up to build a 12 footer, although this will require some careful negotiation.
     I will also never build another boat outside. A workshop or covered working area is, in my humble opinion, essential, especially in a typical English summer. The day I put the finishing touches to my dinghy was a moment of immense pride. I had just finished the hull and had coated the outside with clear epoxy. If it had looked any better I would have asked it to marry me. A clinker hull in mahogany ply looking as salty as anyone could wish.
    The moment was short lived however. Within a few minutes the sky clouded over and the first heavy drops of a summer storm slammed into the still wet epoxy. 30 minute later would have been no problem. 30 minutes earlier and I wouldn't have started. She went from smooth glistening and wood coloured to a mottled cloudy lumpy mess that took several days to sand smooth again, although I could never remove the whiteness. This is why my boat is painted a very nautical blue.
    There is always something to look at on Poole Quay. Most often it is the antics of the visitors who act as if they have never seen the sea before.
     Very often there are interesting sailing craft to be seen, the harbour is regularly visited by square riggers and so it was with high hopes that I set off one Sunday morning to walk the 100 yards from my front door to the quay in order to test out the new digital camera that my company wanted me to evaluate. I was sure that I would see something worth snapping.
     I was not disappointed. A few yards along the quay was a very traditional and very salty looking gaff rigged fishing smack, of the type that used to be very common along the east coast of England 60 years ago.
     She was preparing to get underway. The main was up, the jib was backed and the foresail was hoisted in tyers, ready to break out as soon as it was needed. I waited. This was going to be a display of seamanship the like of which was not often seen on the quay. Most of the Plastic yacht owners leave the harbour mouth, some 2 miles away, entirely under engine power, these guys were going to sail right off the quay. I took a picture and continued to watch the action.
     Using spring lines they crew ably swung off the mooring, they needed to do a 180 turn, as the shipping channel runs alongside the quay for some 300 yards before turning to the south and meeting the main shipping channel a mile out. I should mention that Poole Harbour, for those of you who have not been lucky enough to visit, is the second largest natural harbour in the world, Sydney being the largest. It is also very shallow out of the channels. When this story begins the tide was high and just beginning to turn.
     Instead of turning they went forwards toward the old fisherman's dock, turning at the last minute. The manoeuvre looked perfect, these guys obviously knew their boat and I watched in pleasure as the vessel turned against the early sun of what was going to be a beautiful sailing day. The breakwater you can see in the background is the old dock. The trouble came when they failed to make the turn tight enough and ran aground on the thick mud that lurks a few feet down.
      As they turn they broke out the foresail which only helped to run them on harder. The problem was compounded by the rapidly falling tide. When the ebb starts in Poole it really starts to run and soon they were stuck fast. The local diving school boat left the quay to try to snatch her off.
      I enjoyed the whole spectacle and was grateful for the chance to see such a wonderful old boat close up. The crew's embarrassment was plain to see, and I felt for them. The tourists enjoyed the spectacle as well, even those who did not know one boat from another could see that this was something special. It stood out from all the other craft as a reminder from the working past of the British maritime tradition. I was very pleased with the photographs I took, which I have reproduced here.
     Some weeks later I saw the same craft as the subject of the cover photograph of Classic Boat magazine.