Article by Paul Markwick
“A Microadventure is an adventure that is close to home: cheap, simple, short, and yet very effective. It still captures the essence of big adventures, the challenge, the fun, the escapism, the learning experiences and the excitement.”
Alastair Humphreys, Microadventures, p.14
(Paul Joined the DCA about a year before this river trip and was still tuning into the vibe of open boat cruising. The outing in company with two other friends, also Mirror dinghy owners, was modest in scope but it did have some of the ingredients we enjoy in DCA logs of more more ambitious cruises. It proved to be a popular item with our members and even received a healthy number of votes from the DCA Committee for the Naylor Noggin, our premier cruising award, which finally went elsewhere.)
Early on Saturday morning we loaded Mark’s boat on the roof of my car, hitched on my boat behind and drove to Elford on the River Tame, leaving Mark’s car at Burton on the way.
Launching at Elford was not easy. I had “reviewed” this site using Google Street View, which showed a small car park by the river. What it didn’t show was the steep six to eight feet drop down to the water. We had to run a long length of rope around a post to lower the boats into it.
Paul lowers his Mirror down the steep river bank at Elford on the River Tame
There was very little wind but a strong current was in evidence on the small, shallow river. We set off downstream through some impressive countryside, passing large houses with summerhouses, their manicured lawns dropping down to the river. We made good progress but had to keep a careful watch for protruding rocks and fallen trees that partially blocked our route. We were working against the clock as we had about twelve miles to cover and wanted to be in Burton for our overnight stop before it got dark at around 4 pm.
The hazard of low scaffolding on the bridge over the River Tame
Being classed as “unnavigable,” the River Tame didn’t have anywhere suitable to tie up for lunch—we had hoped for a pub—but we managed to beach the boats for a five-minute break and a sandwich. Being “unnavigable” also means that when a bridge needs maintenance, a suitable route under it for passing boats doesn’t need to be arranged. We rounded a corner to see a bridge with its scaffolding only two feet above the water! The current was pushing us along, so we had to drop the mast quickly and lie down in the boat to get under it. Fortunately the water level had dropped from a week or so earlier; the weed hanging from the scaffolding showed it had been underwater.
The National Memorial Arboretum at Alrewas, River Tame is seen lower in the shot
We sailed past the National Memorial Arboretum at Alrewas and then the River Trent—which is really just a large stream—joined us from the left. We continued past Catton Hall and Walton on Trent where kids were playing and a mother was heard to say, “I’ve never seen sailing boats on this part of the river, quick, get a photo!”
That made me smile.
Fine tuning the bedding and boat tents
By the time we got to Burton it was getting dark. We met Andy and set about securing our boats with ropes around trees before putting up tents and installing camp beds, sleeping bags, and so on. With that done we headed to the pub for a well-earned beer or two and pub grub; we were starving hungry.
I got a good night's sleep but since then the others are considering modifying their tents…
An early start saw us repositioning our cars and trailers downstream and then making a quick visit to McDonalds for breakfast and a much-needed hot coffee. The only way downstream from Burton involves a weir. We took advice from a group of local canoeists who said it was a gentle weir, but when they saw we were in sailing dinghies they smiled wryly.
Mark negotiating the weir backwards in his Mirror dinghy
Mark went first and decided to just go for it, stern first. This worked well until he got stuck halfway and had to wrestle his boat the rest of the way down. The photograph looks like he is rowing upstream, but he’s actually going down.
Andy tried next and after seeing Mark get stuck he decided to lower his boat down on a long rope while standing on a concrete wall. This worked really well so I decided to use his technique. I lowered my boat but then struggled to get down the wall and into it while it was bouncing around in the current and waves at the bottom of the weir.
Eventually I launched myself into the boat and held a shroud for balance, but the strain on the rigging pulled the forestay out of the bow and the mast came down on top of me, capsizing the boat. The water was freezing and at this point I realised I still had my phone and car keys in my shorts pocket!
I couldn’t fix the forestay but there was no wind anyway, so we rowed the ten miles with the current down to Swarkestone Bridge where we'd planned to get out. It was hard work rowing. I lost count of how many overhanging trees I managed to get stuck in while facing backwards and trying to miss the shallows. I hate rowing!
We passed the old Rifle Range target wall, a huge brick structure in the middle of nowhere. We had no idea what it was at the time and had to look it up afterwards.
Eventually we approached Swarkestone where Andy’s dad met us and kindly held on to our ropes so we could de-rig and drag the boats up the steep bank at a suitable fisherman’s perch. We fetched the cars, wearily loaded the boats and headed home, arms aching and hands blistered from rowing. Luckily my car keys still worked, but my phone is really very sick! I’m now in the market for a used iPhone, if anyone got a new one for Christmas... Despite all this we are looking forward to more Mirror adventures next year! •SCA•
Photo of the author, Paul Markwick
Good story…..small boats…Big Adventure!!….Makes me wish for a “Jack deCrow Adventure” of my own!!
That was a fun story! Close to home can be lots of fun, your account brings the point home! BestRoy