Well, where to start? Normally, I begin these reports on the day of the event, but this time, we are starting with the day before, which had the most extraordinarily high tide out of nowhere. The crews of Vixen and Marigold set off on the latter from St Olaves, with a mere seven feet of clearance under the bridge around an hour after low water. Sadly, the electric pod, having been recently tinkered with by the suppliers, kept cutting out and the unhappy discovery of a fuel leak in the outboard meant plans were rapidly revised with a decision made to tow Marigold upriver alongside Vixen.

A scramble at Reedham saw Vixen leave her mooring just in time to squeak through the swing bridge, which half closed on her before reopening (only afterwards did we twig there were no trains due to a national issue) and the planned rafting up on the Street being moved to the floating pontoon, as the quay was already underwater.

Meanwhile, plans to collect the Vice Commodore at Brundall were also rapidly revised to a Reedham rendezvous and then quickly changed again to Cantley. Upon arrival, this involved a precarious manoeuvre, getting both yachts alongside an underwater bank, with the tow boat on the wrong side, the Vice Commodore trying to avoid paddling and the water too high to make an easy step on board. All seemed to settle after that, until Vixen’s engine overheated around Rockland, causing momentary dismay all round…

Happily, it quickly recovered and having attained the bank at Coldham, a massive round of hot chocolates, double rums and sausage roll platters, along with a warm fire in the pub, made the day improve considerably. Prudently, we left promptly and reached Surlingham in daylight, with a plan to drive both boats directly into the cut mooring. Except we couldn’t see it, due to the unending lake of water that faced us.

Prudently, both yachts were moored alongside the high decking before we went ashore – questioning the aptness of that description as we waded across the car park into the pub. Tony, at this point, was wondering where he was going to sleep, with the access points on both sides of the river under a foot of water. A revised plan saw Jan driving round to collect him and a long wellie-topping wade avoided by a fortuitous lift up the lane for Tony from the pub’s chef.

Meanwhile, the “Rosies” plan to motor round from Potter was thwarted when they reached Yarmouth at 9am only to discover the boat would not fit under the bridge. We can all imagine the ensuing despondency as they motored back to the Thurne. However, undaunted, they arrived at Surlingham by car for the planned group meal and, serendipitously, the pub quiz. Being mid-field for the first three rounds and deciding third place out of six was pretty respectable really, we were all astonished after the final round to be declared the winners. An uplifting end to a difficult day.

The night was wild. A strong southerly gale led to a restless and wakeful night and a disinclination to stand around outside in the fitful rain when the morning dawned. As members arrived, everyone made their way into the pub for coffee and bacon butties. Eventually, we ended up laying the tables for lunch too, in order to assist the staff, who awarded marks somewhere between 2 and 8 for our efforts. Around half an hour before lunch, the Rosie team turned up by water, complete with a giant inflatable snowman on the roof of Ruby Rose, having had a second, successful attempt at making passage through Great Yarmouth.

The usual excellent meal was enjoyed by 39 members before, in a departure from usual proceeding, there was a meat auction for the pheasants, ducks and turkey. This was led by the Vice Commodore, who managed to raise nearly £150 for club funds, thanks to the generosity of bidding members. We were then back to normality with Terry running the raffle which, of course, featured his favourite pink tickets. A delighted Jimmy Wells won the hamper.

Those not sleeping on board then gradually drifted off, leaving the die hards to gently while away the evening until it was time for the now traditional cheese and port before bedtime. A second wild and windy night followed with Michelle feeling as though she was on an eight hour flight with major turbulence and Steve Burton saying listening to their decorative snowman on the boat roof rustling all night was akin to sleeping in a crisp packet. Things were more peaceful on Vixen as, having been partially derigged in the morning, there were no halyards banging around all night.

The Rosies planned to leave at 6am, but one look at the new lake across the entirety of the pub garden changed their minds very quickly and instead they joined the crews of Marigold and Vixen in the pub for breakfast. The latter two also decided to stay put, feeling it was unsafe to move and as stories filtered in of many trees down around Broadland and several boats drifting around, having broken free from their moorings, the decision to stay seemed sound.

Booking a pub table for the entire day, the dominoes came out. The Rosies left by road around noon, collected by Adrian; Joe dropped in for a pint and a new plan was made for him to take Brian to St Olaves to bring a car to Surlingham. Michelle declared it made sense for Brian to drive, followed by a decisive move to snaffle his nearly full pint. And so the day passed, with Brian and I eventually calling it a draw with the dominoes and yet another evening meal, with the “starter and dessert only” option proving popular. At 8.30, the pub closed and we all retired to our bunks.

Monday morning: both the wind and the water had dropped enough to complete the derigging on Vixen, empty Marigold into the Thompson’s car and then, after a round of bacon butties in the pub, both yachts finally left. Accidentally getting the tide spot on, a reasonably quick journey was made to St Olaves, where both yachts were left for the winter and their crews, exhausted by four days of eating and restless nights in the poor weather, made their respective ways home.

Oh, by the way, there was a sailing race planned for Saturday morning. It didn’t happen.