As darkness falls

Mike Humphreys risks grounding his Halcyon 23 in fading light to assist two teenagers stuggling with a capsized dinghy

- Mike Humphreys

The evening was warm and pleasant with just enough wind to keep the sails filled; autumn dusk had begun to obscure the distance. Yachts that had ventured up the narrowing Humber river as far as they dared before the tide turned, were hurrying back to the safety of their moorings in a creek off the broad river.

At low tide the river outside these moorings became draining mud flats, shifting sand banks, and a much-reduced river that had sometimes been waded. Further upriver, seagulls had revealed a barely hidden hill of mud, by paddling on it! In another 15 minutes or so the bank would be exposed, and there was little time to waste for boats heading downriver.

I was the owner of a 23ft sailing cruiser and had been justifying my decision to head back to our berth. My wife, Lisa, maintained that there would be time to sail on and still return safely. I had learned the hard way, what it meant to be grounded, helpless on a mud bank.

Shortcut

Returning on the new tide from the mouth of the miles-wide estuary of the Humber, I wondered why I had to follow the dredged and buoyed channel that large ships used. Surely, with my yacht's much shallower draught, I could cut the corner of the wide curve in the river and save time? It looked safe enough, with no disturbed water or other clues to danger, and yachts were sailing on the opposite side, so I didn't bother to consult the chart.

Things went well until the boat suddenly stopped, and then lay over on one side with her keel stuck firmly in the mud. The unmarked spit had claimed another careless yachtsman!

Lisa began to worry so I explained that we'd gone aground on a low but flooding tide. The water would speed up and deepen as it reached mid-tide, and would continue to deepen until it reached high water. However, if we came off at high water the tide would change direction, and push us back down the estuary.