While up again in Great Yarmouth, I spotted this sign at the exit of the harbour. So we went up the winding stairs and knocked at the open door of the station, and were made really welcome by the volunteers working there. They showed us their tracking of the Tenacious and we chatted about the voyage, and about the way the tide and the river interacted and how to calculate how much 'slack water' time there would be when the tide turns—the best time to turn a ship on the river, maybe the only time. When Captain Darren did it he made a perfect job of it, as the ship was so long that the bowsprit swung above some of the sheds on the dock. That manoeuvre would be almost impossible when the tide was flowing, it ran so fast.

Earlier, when Tenacious had docked, one of the pilots had asked if he could bring his young son on board so he could show him around. They came around later, the young lad looking really smart in his pirate outfit, ready to ward off invaders 🙂

Well, here on the lookout station, we met his grandad, who was one of the volunteers; he told us how much the young lad had enjoyed his time on the ship.

One of the volunteers remarked while we were chatting "You were here last year, weren't you?" I had to think for a moment and then realised he was talking about the ship, not me, but saw me as part of the crew. For that short space of time I was a representative of the Tenacious, and it felt rather good.

While we were on Tenacious we were able to use a PC to upload our pictures to, to give out to the rest. The USB keyboard died, so folk were trying to use an on-screen keyboard to 'type' with, which was not much good.

When we came into Yarmouth, I thought I would sort a replacement. Argos was nearby so I thought to nip round and pick one up. Not on your Nelly: must order online, prepay, and let them have all your info, bar the colour of your toilet paper. Abandoned that.

I went onto Facebook Market instead and found someone local selling just what we needed. 10 minutes later he was round to the ship on his bike and the deal was done, met him on the dock and told him all about the ship while he was there. Gave him an extra fiver for same-day delivery

Buzzed by a helicopter on thursday in Gorleston, Great Yarmouth. Dear old boy nearby said confidently to his wife "It's a drone. You can't see a pilot" 🤣

EDIT It is actually a Chinook, thanks to Steven Black for pointing that one out 👍

Never underestimate the power of a T-shirt 🙂

Dorothy Hemmings and I went back up to Great Yarmouth for a few days while the Tenacious was still in port. I expressly wanted to show Dorothy around the ship so she had an idea of where I had been and what I was so enthusiastic about.

When we went along, I switched from wearing an ordinary Tshirt to my green JST one, so that when we went on board the interested folk hanging around at the gangplank wouldn't be offended by seeing some folk go on board and why not them too?—seeing the t-shirt would have them reckon that we had some connection with the Tenacious. We brought along some home-made fruit cakes that we (yes I can bake!) had made, as well as the manual for the broken-down food lift which Pete (the engineer for our voyage) and I had been trying to problem-solve. Everyone was pretty busy preparing for the next trip, so we didn't stick around... it was good too to say a proper goodbye to Linnéa.

As we walked away there was a lady at the fence separating the quayside area, looking at the ship. So we went over and struck up a conversation. Seeing the Tshirt she realised that there was a connection to the ship. A really lovely lady, she had recently lost her husband, who had been keen on sailing, and she was clearly missing him very much...

We talked for quite a long time about the Trust and and the voyage, and about similar charities she was also involved with. Dorothy remarked how like her own aunt (also a Dorothy) she was. Had the same eyes, and the same confidence about her. We encouraged her (I can't quite recall but I think her name was Louise) that a voyage like I had just completed was something she could enjoy, and that she, like I had done, would gain huge encouragement from it and meet some amazing people—like Peter (whom I've written about) who is now on his 74th voyage with the Trust, and Natalie, who I have yet to write about 🙂

Of events on that short return trip I reckon the conversation Dorothy and I had with this lady to be the most memorable. It would be lovely to discover some day that she had ventured on a voyage 👍🏻☺️

This is Stu, the bosun. He knows everything there is to know about sailing the ship. Comes out with loads of sailing terms like 'sweating', 'easing', bunting', 'furling', while we madly pull at what we hope is the right rope, try to nod at the right places, and look up and pretend that we can see the effect that all our tugging and pulling is having on the sails above and the 7 miles of ropes that manage the ship.

Starting at the bottom the five sails are Coarse, Lower Topsl (don't say Topsail), Upper Topsl, T'Gallant, and the Royal. Going from serfs to knights to kings by all accounts. And they all have speed limits. Exceeding the speed limit doesn't bring a fine, but you have to bring the sail in pretty darn quick, as the ship or the sail could be damaged.

To hear Stu explain finer points, it is just amazing how technically complex the process of sailing a ship is. Every one of the ropes has a part to play; and the ropes are different grades and different materials depending on their rôle.

They laughed when I said it was like an orchestra with everyone playing their part, maybe they thought it to be more like the Portsmouth Symphonia. But it was really excellent to see the four teams all working together (fore port, fore starboard, aft port, aft starboard) under his direction, to get the sails set just right.

And then the wind changes and we have to do it all again :-)

This is Guy. Part of the temporary crew, he has never pulled so many ropes in his life, nor climbed so many flights of stairs in one week—his phone tells him his average of 4 flights per day became 15. Here he is pretending to know how to sail the Tenacious, keeping an unwavering eagle eye on the compass and sticking grimly to a heading of 130 degrees or thereabouts as the ship reels from the shock of the high winds; watching out for raiders, lobster pots, wind farms, dolphins and the like.

He absolutely fell in love with being on a sailing ship—probably because he hasn't yet been properly seasick. Smart chap came with the wrong seasickness remedy (it's those duff Amazon reviews again) but Alan the medical purser kindly gave him some Stugeron tablets, which are meant to be the best thing since sliced bread for a wobbly stomach and to prevent the seagulls from profiting from the excellent food.

The second picture is Guy before doing any useful work while on mess duty. He chose the apron because it was green—for Ireland—but it had a Kiwi on it instead. Can't have everything I guess :-)

Also in the lower mess is a beautiful inlaid compass in the floor. Here I have added a book about the Tenacious which is in Braille.

Teddy and Snowy keep an eye on us to make sure we are all ok

This is the Lower Mess where we congregated when free and where we ate Cookie's excellent food and drank, played guitar, and had some really interesting conversations.

The Tenacious is a 'proper' wood-built sailing ship. You can see the lovely woodwork construction—from Siberian Larch and Sapele. The hull is made from 5 layers and you can judge the total thickness by the depth of the portholes.

This is Brian Condon, part of our crew. Love the hair! And the other picture is his boots and that amazing stitched repair—I'm told he is good at sail repairs too 🙂

Brian used to play the guitar but now has a permanent injury to his left hand which means he can play no longer; caused by someone on a ship taking a short cut when completing some task. Brian said that he could well have been killed.

He now plays music on an app on his iPad and has a very nice folksy singing voice