The whole thing started with just a courteous routine visit to the berth to check over ‘Avocet’. British Summertime had just ended and with unadjusted timepieces I was actually there about 08:15 exactly an hour earlier than planned.

After unlocking the gate and walking the jetty, I visually inspected the lie, rigging and covers etc. only to notice several suspicious footprints in the exposed mud between ‘Avocet and the adjacent ‘Firefly’ an MG 30 footer.

Using latent ex boy-scout tracker skills I dib, dib, dibbed and surmised that the prints were placed sometime between the last two high water periods and warranted further investigation.

I walked around the deck and fortunately, even without the use of specialised detective equipment, I was satisfied that nothing untoward had taken place.

It was then I had a sudden urge to personally irrigate the foliage under the shelter of the overhanging trees alongside the coastal walkway used to access the berths. Simultaneously, the forecasted storm and high winds had the sudden urge to arrive.

On my return to the jetty I stopped in my tracks, partly due to the high winds but mainly due to the spectacle (after a loud twang) of Firefly being torn from its moorings and blown towards Avocet with a crashing of masts, bending of foils and nav-light units and the intertwining of shrouds and forestays. Rubbing eyes and slapping the face did not make the end result go away and I couldn’t find the rewind button.

Not a lot I could do really, it was lashing down and blowing a gale so I decided to make a run for it. All the necessary contact details were at home anyway. On the way I heard a warning on the radio of 60mph winds sweeping the country.

Several phone calls later, a plan to return to the jetty was arranged at the next high water, 14:15 but only 8.0m was probably not enough to lift the offending vessel. A later forecast predicted the winds up to 80mph.

Plenty of help was at hand (as expected from the sailing fraternity), I had contacted Peter the owner of Firefly who was joined by his son Michael, Geoff the owner of the berth that brother Brian and myself are now sharing, and lastly myself (without camera).

We all arrived just before high water intending to upright Firefly and separate the two ladies. Today was the last opportunity for a while and it was touch and go, whether the culprit would lift sufficiently and we patiently watched the rising tide.

Alas it never happened.

However, Firefly lifted with just enough room to ‘squeeze’ Avocet from under the offending mast and we decided to move her round to the adjacent vacant berth on the other side of Firefly. This was to prevent further potential damage caused by Firefly rolling while attempting to stand up during the next few tides.

Immediately prior to the two masts reluctantly separating, the masthead light cover was flipped off and dropped into the pool but miraculously washed back to the jetty for easy retrieval, which I carefully checked before chucking in the dustbin. We could now clearly see the bend in Avocets foil although slightly straightened after the weight of the other mast had been removed.

With plenty of bodies, ropes (loaned by Peter & Geoff) and fenders (loaned by Peter) Avocet was easily towed round to the temporary berth until the offender righted herself, seemingly not until the next full moon. We were right, with high water long passed, Firefly was still keeled over so we arranged a meeting in the bar to arrange a further meeting in the bar to meet the following Friday, high water at 20:09.

I’d reported in to Brian & Elizabeth at base in East Anglia ensuring them she was not a complete ‘right off’ but was not entirely satisfied with the way she settled in the temporary berth and preferred to put her back where she belonged at the earliest opportunity. I took a few photographs during the week for insurance evidence and for B & E’s benefit.

At the weekend I’d arranged to for my father to visit, he was duly picked up, advised to bring wellies, oilies and warm clothing, brought back home and whisked straight off to Skippool to check on Firefly, as there was no point in Avocet returning to the original berth until Firefly was upright and secured satisfactorily.

My father and I arrived just after high water sporting the above attire plus torch to see the offending vessel already erect and adequately secure, we were then cordially invited aboard Firefly by Peter and his wife Margaret.

Nice boat and no damage done, except for wet carpets.

Reasonably satisfied we returned home welcomed by a telephone message from Geoff preferring Sunday rather Saturday to re-position Avocet and to meet at 08:30 ready for high water 9.4m at 09:31.

My father and I arrived (with camera) about 08:00, early as usual, but it did give us the opportunity to cobble up a plan before the others arrived.

Even though I had been given an extensive step by step idiots guide from big brother on how to start and use Avocet’s engine, I bottled out and chose the less exciting but less hassle option of towing her round manually from jetty to jetty. Well there was going to be plenty of help at hand. Maybe I’ll be brave enough some other time.

The rest of the crew arrived; Peter with his wife Margaret and one of their sons Michael and Geordie Geoff the jetty owner. The operation was a success and Avocet was soon smoothly returned to her original berth.

The tide was now at it’s highest, so high in fact that it was impossible to walk between jetties without wading thigh deep and with a few more tasks to carry out Avocet was used as a ferry service from jetty to jetty.

The tasks remaining, in addition to the tidying up was to climb the masts of the two boats; Firefly needed halyards untangling and Avocet needed the masthead nav light cover replacing (which I retrieved from the dustbin).

Margaret was the willing volunteer robbing me the thrill of being hoisted up the mast.

She was petite, light but more importantly an experienced rock climber who went up in my estimation when I learned she actually knew of Stannage Edge, a small rock climbing area in Derbyshire that Brian and I frequented in our much, much earlier years.

Peter on the other hand being afraid of heights was quite happy giving Margaret instructions before whisking her to the top of Firefly’s mast. The job being done it was Avocets turn and we were all ferried across to repeat the performance. Margaret replaced the light cover in no time but I was determined not to miss out on the opportunity to be hoisted up too. Margaret had all the gear but unfortunately I was just ever so slightly larger in girth and her rock climbing harness would not fit but a handy extra large sized bosun’s chair did. I took the opportunity of inspecting the damage myself, noting a crack in the lens cover of the nav light and a bent mounting bracket supporting the light unit and the VHF aerial. I also noticed the perspiration generated among the winching team accompanied by flowery language that was not apparent while hoisting my predecessor.

Several photographs were taken during the whole episode with Geoff and my father arguing between them as to who was the chief photographer. I took the camera up the mast for a shot down to the deck just like the ones in the magazines.

Peter then invited us all for a well-earned pint but I guess he knew all along that the club bar would be closed, the Thornton Lodge at the end of the creek and the River Wyre Hotel. Well I don’t drink anyway.

On arriving at home my father and I reported back to base and informed Brian & Elizabeth that Avocet was now feeling better and all was well.

The End