So it begins...

'There is nothing more expensive than a free boat,' so said someone far wiser than me. But by the time I had remembered this saying, it was too late. I was already dreaming of white sandy beaches and the feeling of the trade winds on my back, and anyway, it allowed me to escape from the reality at hand... tied up to the industrial docklands in Liverpool's lock system in the biting cold and drizzle of the winter of 2024.

For those of you blessed with not having been there, I shan't describe them in full; suffice to say the rats battle with the seagulls for supremacy over the cracks in the decaying concrete.

The man who had started this dream was my deckhand, David, who had found himself in the unfortunate position of having two yachts to maintain; one was his late father's Dufour, in excellent condition, and the other was a tired-looking old yawl that was nestled into the mud up the top reaches of the River Colne in Essex, UK.

"The engine will need replacing, but I know of one going cheap," the words went in one ear and out the other side, "... and once the seacocks are replaced..." again the words washed over me, like water off a Teflon-coated duck, "... you could have her up and sailing again by the summer."

By then it was too late for me, and after seeing some photos of her, the seeds were sown and had taken hold in a way no reins could halt. I have family down near where the yacht lay, and it was agreed that I'd come down and view the boat when we were next on leave and scope her out for myself, under the pretense of visiting family—they are always nervous when I say I'm off to look at a boat after the last "steal" I had bought; an old iron fishing ketch recently lifted from the bottom of a river... but that's another story.

Snugged up in her mud berth

The Davits will be coming straight off....

The day I went to see her, the sun was shining, and with not so much as a gnat's fart of wind, you could almost pretend it wasn't winter. The first thing that struck me walking up to the yacht was her lines; she has the most gentle sheer on her, running forward to climax into her most famous feature - that clipper-style bow. Dressed in her yawl rig made her look so graceful and poised, and as soon as I was onboard and having a mooch on deck, I knew she was going to be mine.

Jumping down below, you find an unusual layout, in that she has a dinette-style saloon to port, with wet locker directly aft, a linear galley to starboard with the quarter berth behind. Going forward, you find a head and hanging locker, and beyond that, a V-berth. She is small down below even by the standards of the day, but the woodwork seemed to be in decent enough condition the upholstery was as mouldy as it could have been, and although the level of the bilge water was above the sole boards, she pumped out quickly enough... beauty really is in the eye!

After admittedly very little consideration, I agreed to buy her, and so we came to the price... £1 for the yacht seemed reasonable enough, £245 for the cruising chute she already had on board seemed fair and £1,000 for the 'new' engine, and she was mine!

She was obviously going to need hauling out, and fortunately, down at the bottom of the Colne, in the town of Brightlingsea, the shipyard Morgan Marine agreed to do the haul out if I could get her near enough to their yard for them to tow her into the hoist.

This came with a host if issues, but i'll leave that for a later post. See you then....