To the Kayaks! …on bank holiday Monday afternoon. Recent days have seen some spectacularly high spring tides out along the estuary. The bright blue skies and wind were too much of a good opportunity to resist an afternoon of paddling.

The dinghies had already launched and were out racing. It was the perfect weather if you wanted some wind in your sail, not so if you were battling against the elements with only a single oar.

We took the strategic decision to make the most of the incoming tide and head upstream. It felt more like we were battling an outgoing tide to be honest, such was the ferocity of the wind blowing the waves back at us. Splashes ahoy!

Once we were past the barrier it was surprising to see the Bank Holiday river traffic pretty much non-existent. We saw C. He was out doing his usual daily swim. A few brief polite words were exchanged before we pressed on.

Rowhedge was reached. There was another couple swimming close to the public hard. I say swimming, it looked more like they were simply treading water.

Both pubs on the other side of the river were busy with Bank Holiday boozers. The Essex Harbour Patrol boat was moored up and ready to pounce on any speeding jet ski dickheads.

Windy Corner was reached. It was an absolute bastard. I tried to head for the channel but was blown off course.

We came within touching distance of the University but decided to cut our losses as the waves continued. We drifted back downstream with the tide now turning.

Just as we were recovering the kayaks, some scouse fella came up to me and asked me about high tides. He wanted to know the precise science behind what governs high and low water.

Fuck me, you’re asking the wrong dude fella.

We had something of Boy’s Own outing for the WivGigs Sunday Social. Four male rowers and a male cox. This is most unusual. I prefer mixed rowing. Having five blokes in a boat can often lead to disaster.

It was all very lively down at the Sailing Club, hard around midday. An exceptionally high Bank Holiday weekend tide meant there was plenty of aquatic action out on the water.

Some dinghy racing was in full flow. The Time Keeper’s hut bleated out the incredibly LOUD horn each time some form of watercraft passed the finishing line. This always makes me want to shout out RAVE!!!! and put my hands in the air.

This was a maiden voyage for Audacity, our returning gig boat. She has been out at some repair yard for the past month or so, undertaking some pretty heavy duty patch ups as well as being tarted up with paint.

The aroma coming from the new coating was still fresh and rather lush. It was actually quite exciting rowing in a boat that was now looking and feeling as good as new.

The Boy’s Own crew headed out downstream along the estuary. We had plenty of water to enjoy, with time and tide on our side.

Past Alresford Creek and the waters became slightly choppy. A couple of crew from one of the racing dinghies were now neck deep in water, having capsized, and were being picked up by the safety boat.

The Brightlingsea Ferry passed us in the opposite direction on a riverside cruise from one town to the other. The passengers on board were most friendly and seemed pleased to see us.

We turned around at what I think was Buoy 22 and then made our way back with the tide still incoming down to the Sailing Club. Some bank holiday campers had pitched up on White House Beach.

The return journey involved a little bit of stop-start action. Some of the Sailing Club racers had decided to tack left to right in front of our path. Thankfully the Boy’s Own crew remained sensible and decided not to take them on.

Back at base and Audacity was given a decent scrub. Whoever said that males can’t carry out a half-decent cleaning routine?

A decent row.

I had sun, wind and high water for the random anarchic walk on Monday morning. I made my way down Quayside and past the Sailing Club with WivGigs but already putting Varuna away after a morning social session.

I thought I would try something of a change of route. My plan was just to walk with no real intention guiding me apart from a work deadline looming three hours later.

I cut across the marsh, which takes you back up towards Alresford. The marshland was bone dry. It was littered with cowpats, which became quite an obstacle to overcome.

The terrain around here late summer is quite astonishing. Marsh has now become dust. It was only a few winters ago when we actually witnessed a couple of local kids lacing up their ice skates and gliding off effortlessly along the ice that had frozen over the marshland.

It was here when my route went a little wonky. I know, let’s go for a bit of a schlep through Cockaynes’s Wood I thought. I pretty much know all the paths inside out.

Wrong.

I reached one end of Cockaynes’s Wood and then found myself on an empty country lane. I kinda knew where I was but I decided to live dangerously and turn left rather than the usual right. There’s a life lesson in there, Jase.

The lane threw me out back onto the main road. It was pretty shit to be honest. I then stumbled across an unexpected public footpath, which should have taken me back roughly in the general direction of the town.

It was a really quiet and deserted path that was pretty much overgrown. There were a number of small little bridges to cross with absolutely nothing underneath them.

To my surprise the unexpected path brought me back to pretty much where I started, back in Cockaynes’s Wood. I wasn’t expecting that. At least I knew my directions. I made it back to base.

A rather curtailed WIvGigs Super Sunday with a short row just after sunrise this morning. There was a very low high tide, if you see what I mean. This meant our window of opportunity for launching and then recovering was limited.

No worries. We pressed on with an enthusiastic crew. Some of this optimism was soon diminished when we were wading knee-deep in shit as we tried to launch the boat in what was a very muddy estuary.

A muddy estuary is a metaphor for something a little more pooey.

Still, it was very… still. Launching was easy. We had the briefest of brief little adventures downstream before turning around for our rendezvous with a come and try-er rower.

We made our way back past the trots and the immaculate looking Wivenhoe One Designs. They looked sure pretty, almost picture postcard like, each with their individual light touch colour palette, reflecting off the water.

We weren’t expecting a come and try-er until an hour or so ahead of launching. To be fair to the fella he was bang on time and we liked his enthusiasm.

It was a little tricky mooring up on the public pontoon. There was a lack of water and another boat was blocking our passage.

The come and try-er was soon on board and a few safety instructions were given. We continued once again downstream. The come and try-er was sitting directly behind me. I took a few polite hits to the back but he soon got the hang of it.

We dropped off the come and try-er and then made the most of the very limited time available whilst we still had water. A few bursts of race training took place. It was a little tricky navigating the estuary with other traffic around early morning. This included the tiniest of tiny kayaks.

Big SHOUT OUT to our cox who managed to wake up half of the town with his booming voice giving out instructions.

Another day, another running injury, another walk instead. Having been laid up for pretty much nine months with a particularly painful calf strain, I’ve still got a slight niggle on my right-hand calf this time. Oh well. There’s only one thing for it: no more pounding the mean streets of CO7, and certainly no more pounding the BASTARD treadmill.

Walk to live, live to walk, etc.

I set off on the usual 10 km route along the estuary, and down towards the Creek before cutting back and going around Alresford.

The atmosphere down on the quayside felt like the fag of the summer holidays. Some kids were doing the crabbing thing at one end of the public jetty. The town had the atmosphere of very much being hot and bothered and having had enough of this recent heatwave weather.

This wasn’t a particularly balmy one but it was a lot hotter than I expected. I really couldn’t be arsed to get my head down and pound on at a rapid pace. I don’t think my calf is up to it anyway.

The pace of the estuary life seemed to be summed up by the fishermen sitting on their boats waiting for some water to arrive. I was also making slow progress. I was too busy taking snaps of the rather impressive Big Essex Skies up above me.

In Log News: you will be pleased to know that the log that blocked the path along the wooded part of the estuary has kindly been moved on by someone. Here ends Log News for today.

The blackberries lining the path were close to picking. Only a few remain red. The majority have gone a very dark, lush shade of black and are bursting to be picked.

I reached the Creek and headed back around through Alresford. I opted out on the final 1 km or so as the traffic was picking it up along the main road. I cut through instead along the farm track.

During the winter months this is sometimes not possible to pass through. The tractor marks are ideal for creating lake-like conditions. Not so today. It’s going to take some pretty horrendous autumnal downpours before the farm tracks cut off this return route for me once again.

To Rectory Road! …late on Sunday afternoon. Wivenhoe Town Cricket Club were hosting Sudbury in a T30 hit ‘n’ giggle.

Thirty overs is a half-decent format for any competition. Just don’t go telling the ECB. They will invent half a dozen new franchises and sell out the game even further.

It was an odd hybrid of the game. We were playing with a pink ball and luminous wickets, yet both sets of players looked resplendent in their whites.

Other commitments kept me away from the Sudbury innings. They had set a competitive chase of 155 for the home team.

Once again it became clear that this was a mixture of incredibly young players backed up by some older wiser heads. SHOUT OUT in particular to the Sudbury young kid fielding on the boundary. He’s probably back at primary school in a few weeks. He didn’t let himself down, both fielding as well as then turning his arm with some decent spin on offer.

An early drop was a close reprieve for Wivenhoe. I then missed a wicket as I was too busy scrolling on Forest updates and the emotional farewell for Big Taiwo.

Sudbury had an interesting selection of bowlers. One young chap in particular had the shortest of short runs that I’ve ever seen in the game. This seemed to fool the Wivenhoe batters with a well taken catch after a failed sweep shot.

Similar to the other formats at this level, there seems to be much more focus on spin rather than pace. It makes it easier on the eye to try and follow the game.

Another catch followed and early drinks were taken. Wivenhoe were now on 80 for 4 chasing down that 155.

I confess to dozing off as more wickets fell. Each polite applause from the Pavilion was my wake up call to have a bit of a check on the scoreboard.

I could see that with seven overs remaining Wivenhoe needed 36 runs with three wickets in hand. They had timed their run chase to perfection.

It was a little squeaky bum time for the very young kids out in the middle for Wivenhoe. A well-placed boundary was a fitting way for the home team to take the victory.

Another bloody decent afternoon down at Rectory Road.

To Broad Lane! …on Saturday afternoon. Wivenhoe Town FC were at home in the first round of the FA Vase hosting Frenford. The visitors play one step above the Dragons in the non-league pyramid.

This was all set to be a half decent opportunity to see how far the Dragons have progressed as part of the new set up for the 2026 season.

There wasn’t much to report for the first half hour or so. The main talking point was the incredibly tall ref and a couple of rather short wide players starting for Frenford. Talk about knowing your place, etc.

I walked around the ground doing my usual photo walk. Some silly old racist Essex owd boy mumbled out some absolute nonsense rather close to me. I rose above it and didn’t allow this to ruin my afternoon. In retrospect I really should have called him out - or maybe even lamped him.

The lino was much more fun.

“Don’t take my photo! Please don’t take my photo!”

Which actually means, “Oh please do take my photograph and please do pimp it out all over the modern interweb. Thank you very much.”

I didn’t take his photograph.

It looked bloody hard work out there on what was a rock hard pitch. I wouldn’t have fancied playing a full 90 minutes with my knees. Thankfully if it was to be even at full time then we would go straight to pens.

The first half was rather even. I was surprised how well Wivenhoe fared against a team that were clearly a lot more organised, not to mention no doubt better paid.

I had a few conversations during the second half with some familiar faces. Pokey Pokey Guy started speaking to me as well as poking me rather hard.

It was all friendly stuff but I do object when my body space is invaded and a jabbing finger is then inserted into my shoulder to prove a point every 30 seconds or so.

The main talking point is that the old brick wall around all four sides of the ground looks set to be demolished next week. Apparently FA funding of around £50,000 has been secured after the terrible incident that involved the death of a young player last season. This can’t come soon enough. It will certainly transform the look of Broad Lane.

Back on the actual pitch itself Wivenhoe were superb in the second half. They attacked with pace and actually outclassed their opponents from a league above. Two goals were scored in quick succession. They were well deserved.

I turned to my spectating partner, the non-pointing one, and observed that the final 15 minutes would be bloody hard work to defend.

This wasn’t the case. Wivenhoe were strong in defence as well as continuing to attack. A 2-0 victory was the least they deserved.

Well and truly up for the Cup, Comrades.

To Broad Lane! …for the first home match of the new season with Wivenhoe Town. We start early in non-league and we also end early. Wivenhoe are usually on the beach come the end of March, and not in a good way, either.

The pre-season has been one change for the Dragons. After the bloody awful relegation experience of last season, somehow the league gave the Dragons a reprieve. We find ourselves in the same division that was a bit of a dog’s dinner for the Dragons last year.

What could possibly go wrong?

There has been change on the ground however. This has taken the form of a new (ahem) stadium sponsor. I had the pleasure of a bit of a meet ‘n’ greet with the young fella ahead of KO. He is very ambitious and certainly seems to have the right ideas about how to move the club forward.

We’ve also got a new coaching team in the dugout. Thankfully the same old supporters are still lingering around the old place. You can’t handle too much change in one go.

But wait! What’s this?

I’ve gone on something of a personal quest in recent weeks to try and get more people from the town into the ground. Broad Lanes may be within CO7, but it never actually feels part of the community.

It needn’t be this way. It wasn’t always this way. I intend to change this with a long campaign in which to promote the Dragons from a personal perspective.

Having plugged the match online earlier in the week, I thought it only appropriate to arrive early for once. No one wants to be late for their own party, right?

I arrived 15 minutes or so ahead of KO. Blimey, there’s only a car park attendant. I’ve never seen this before.

SHIT THE BED - there was actually a queue of around fifteen people waiting to get in. I hope the stray shot from the warm up that narrowly missed taking the head off a newbie in the queue didn’t put them off.

My season ticket was flashed at the gate. This dropped earlier in the day. We were asked to send over a couple of selfies to be added. The joke amongst the hardcore is already that our season tickets look like skiing holiday boarding passes.

CHEESE!

It was great to catch up with some friendly faces inside the ground. One of the old lags let it drop that the new coach hasn’t actually taken over yet. He’s serving out a suspension from his previous position.

Whoops.

I looked around the old place. I can’t take personal credit for this but the crowd was certainly healthy. The two-for-one offer helped. There was also the obligatory opening day season inflatable to make it more family-friendly.

SHOUT OUT to the deputy mayor of Wivenhoe, who made a bloody good effort in turning up. It was very decent catching up with her. She genuinely wants to help out the football club in whatever capacity she can at the Town Council.

On the pitch and Wivenhoe got off to a blunder. An early penalty led to a 1-0 lead. This was an incredibly young team. I would say a couple of players have yet to reach the age when they can actually celebrate in a pub after scoring a penalty.

Bloody hell - we were only 2-0 up in under ten minutes. Maybe now would be a good time to go home?

A third soon followed with a quite exquisite passing move that would have been lauded if Manchester City had made such an approach. That was probably the first and last time I will compare Wivenhoe Town with Man City this season.

The rare times that Wivenhoe needed to defend, they did it rather well. The away team’s number eleven was rather tricky. He went on a few good mazy runs.

Parson Drove, were then awarded a penalty themselves. This seemed a bit harsh. The lino they confessed he couldn’t see a bloody thing. The ref claimed it was handball. The young Wivenhoe ‘keeper made a tremendous save but the follow-up was then knocked in.

Halftime came and went. Out came the away team with their heads down. This looked like a game that they had lost already.

It was great to see some father and son - or mother and son - interactions from the Wivenhoe players ahead of the restart. This showed how young the new team is. Their parents had come out to support their kids.

A fourth goal for Wivenhoe followed 50 minutes into the second half. It was a beautiful lob that fooled the away ‘keeper.

Parson Drove offered little physical threat throughout the game. It will be interesting to see how the Dragons fair up against some of the more experienced cloggers they will no doubt come across in this league.

The visitors then scored an undeserved second goal. Wivenhoe responded with a very much well-deserved fifth with five minutes to go. The strike into the top corner was the goal of a game.

And do we already we have a record of P3, W2, L1. The away defeat to Holland on Sea can best be explained as a loss against what will be a promotion-chasing team.

Whisper it quietly: these are exciting times ahead at Broad Lane; the new coach, the young team and my rather disorganised one-man campaign to get more people in to the ground may just lead to something of a special season for the Dragons.

There was an exceptionally high tide as I made my way down Quayside ahead of another lunchtime walk on Thursday. I was surprised not to see the flood barrier closed.

Disguising the smell of mud and shit from the Estuary Wilds was the midday pub food being cooked. It was rather tempting but I had km’s in my legs that needed walking off.

I reached the Sailing Club. WivGigs were preparing to land after a social row on the high water. I did my dutiful trolley dolly thing and helped them out with the recovery.

A little further down the muddy banks and there was the magnificent sight of the entire fleet of Wivenhoe One Designs in a single line. It is WOD Racing Week this week. That sounds purely for the committed. They seem to have the weather as well as the wind.

I reached the wooded area along a sea wall. We had the news yesterday of a tree in Wivenhoe Wood falling due to the intense heat, and taking down a power line on the railway. Whoops.

Along the sea wall another tree has fallen, requiring you to do something of a limbo dance in order to have a safe passage.

Halfway around my circuit and the heat became incredibly repressive. I did have plans for the 10km round route but this involves a little extra distance as well as walking on the main road.

BALLS to that. I opted instead for the more scenic route, which takes in the abandoned and derelict St Peter’s Church at Alresford.

I always love looking around here and taking snaps, whatever time of the year. I’m no believer, but it is a very powerfully emotive location any time of the year.

I descended back down towards the Estuary. The gravel paths that link Alresford back to the river have now become sand. Flooded plains around the fields have long since disappeared. The ground is bone dry. One downpour and the water will drain off back down towards the Estuary.

There was a sign up by the private fishing lakes saying that there was an OAP fishing match taking place this summer. I’m not too far off from signing up for this myself.

Walk to live, live to walk, or something.

Another Saturday, another beat the heat early morning walk around the Estuary Wilds. It was already pretty unrelenting shortly before 8 am. I had in sight the usual 10 km round route. Never disrupt an OCD-friendly bang on the money 10 km route.

The rowing club were preparing to launch as I walked past the sailing club. A little further downstream and our friendly rivals, Defiance, were already out on an early morning training row.

The incoming tide was approaching at quite a pace. I picked up my own pace as I made my way through the relatively cooler shaded area along the sea wall.

I reached White House Beach. It looked like an overnight party was being slept off. There were a couple of hammocks strung out across some trees with a load of tinnies from the night before.

Chin chin.

The Creek was reached. It was a little more sedate around here. There was a low key friendly breakfast boat situation developing. One of the fine yachts seemed to have become the social hub for the local area as breakfast was taken on board.

The second half of the walk was less scenic but functional as I pounded the mean streets of Alresford and made my way back down to Wivenhoe.

In Discarded Santa Costume News: The discarded Santa costume is still available for free outside someone’s house in Alresford. This has been the case for the past three weeks.

Same again next week, Comrades.