Lady Daphne, and feeling like the Queen.

Easter weekend was so beautiful and Easter Monday was also lovely, but a strange mix of sunshine and an almost autumnal mist.  We were down at St. Katharine's Dock that day, because our older daughter knows a lady called Sam Howe who co-owns a Thames Barge, and Sam offered T and me a chance to join them on a trip down the Thames.

Which was wonderful, but even more thrilling, Tower Bridge opened specially for us to go through, which I'd never dreamed of happening for any boat that I was on!    In fact, I've hardly ever seen it opening at all.

But then something even more extraordinary happened.  We were alongside the Tower of London on the other side of the bridge, waiting before returning to the dock, when Sam said, "Oh, the Tower of London's going to have a 62 gun salute in a few minutes."  

I'd heard of a 21-gun salute, but not of a 62-gun. (In case you're interested, it's made up of 21 guns for the Queen's birthday, 20 guns because the Tower is a Royal Palace, and 21 guns because the Tower lies in the City area.)    

And the salute was due to start at 1 PM... which was when we would be going through the bridge!

Well, a 62 gun salute is one thing, going under Tower Bridge is another, but combine them and you do get a little bit of a feeling of the "Royal Family Experience."  I asked T. to take a film of the whole thing, and he very kindly did.

The bridge starts to open after the seventh shot - that's a minute in - and the little film ends with a look at the distant cannon, still shooting out puffs of smoke. If you listen hard, you can hear the "Fire!" commands too.

 Opening Tower Bridge isn't the work of a moment.  First, they have to warn the traffic that it will be opening. Then they have to check that it is clear and no dimwit has decided to stay on the bridge  just for the ride, and then, finally, the Victorian machinery goes into action.

So this was wonderful, and even better for being totally unexpected.    Anyway, the boat is called the "Lady Daphne."   Sam and her partner Andy both have good jobs but they decided they wanted a project in life, preferably one with boats.   Here is Andy in the foreground.

And below is Sam at the left, while the skipper gives us a safety briefing down below. And in the foreground of this picture is....



...Marzi, the ship's dog, who is rather like the ship's cat in that she has an uncanny ability to choose the most comfortable spot available...



The old Thames sailing barges are flat bottomed, brown-sailed wooden boats, originally used to carry cargoes of stone or grain around the shallow waters of South-East England. Now, they're quite an endangered species, but Andy remembers seeing plenty of them as a child, as does my own mum, who used to spend her childhood holidays in Essex with her granny, and told me how nice it was to sit by the estuary and watch them going slowly to and fro.

Most, including the "Lady Daphne" were built without engines, but  she, and I think most other passenger sailing boats have them now - I suppose if you have to keep to a strict schedule, it may be best not to rely on the wind, although they did hoist one of the topsails.   

 Most Thames barges have been scuttled, while many others have been converted into homes or trendy corporate spaces, and very few have passenger licenses.  Sam and Andy say they want Lady Daphne to "stay alive" - and I knew what they mean, for when she is going quietly along, you feel the wind and hear her creaking.  They also wanted to offer other people the experience of both travelling on and also, in some cases, learning to sail and skipper these very unusual boats. 

Here is a photo of Lady Daphne in St. Katharine's dock. I gave it a sepia tint and it's surprising how much it looks like those pictures you see of old London - although the foggy towers of Canary Wharf in the background give the game away if you look too closely...

It's not pushing the truth to say that this has been a labour of love for Sam and Andy. When they purchased the 85-ton "Lady Daphne," she was not in a good state. Built in 1923, she'd had her ups and downs, and much of her starboard side had to be rebuilt - by hand. They had it done at Ham Wharf, Oare Creek, in the old Kent port of Faversham, which is one of the last strongholds of traditional boatbuilders, and they brought her up to the tough standards required for a passenger licence.

It is always terrific going down the river and seeing famous landmarks from an unexpected angle. Because rivers were the main thoroughfares for centuries, many of the older buildings near rivers are better seen from the river than from land.  Here's the Royal Naval College at Greenwich, built around 1700, and now one of the major buildings in the UNESCO World Heritage site "Maritime Greenwich." (Read more about that here).
 

 One of "Lady Daphne"'s main claims to fame is that she once sailed herself all the way from the Lizard, in Cornwall, to Tresco, in the Scilly islands. Her captain fell overboard and the crew abandoned ship, but on she went, under sail, alone but for the captain's pet canary, till she beached herself in two feet of water quite safely.    I guess she must have been rigged to follow that course, and was lucky the wind didn't change; but still, there are plenty of rocks around there.   So she's obviously a bit of a survivor, and I hope she continues as a working boat for many years to come. 

If you're interested in having a ride, the schedule is here.  Oh, and the price includes a cup of tea or coffee, and a bun.

I'll end with a picture of reflections I took in Burnham Beeches a few months ago. I was looking at it closely today and thought  it was hard to make out where everything was. In the end, I got the trick of seeing it, and thought I'd ask if you can make sense of it too.