Well, we sailed as close to the wind as we could—and nothing goes closer than a lateener—and could just lie the channel through another reedy lake, called Whiteslea, on to the vast expanse of Hickling Broad, a lake 400 acres in extent, and looking three times as large, owing to the extreme lowness of its shores, the absence of any landmarks, and the great concave sky, which seems to fit close down all around it. A channel across it is marked by posts, which we left to starboard, as we sailed over it. The width of the channel you will have to determine by experiment, as there is no guide. At a guess, it is twenty yards wide, and all the rest of the Broad is so shallow that you might wade over it, and find a hard, yellow, gravel bottom almost everywhere. Trusting in our two-feet draught, we sailed hither and thither, and felt our way checked, as the keel cut through masses of weed, and then the bound forward, as the boat entered a part clear of weeds. These bunches of weed have lately increased greatly in Hickling Broad, which used to be comparatively free from them, and the promontories of reeds are pushing themselves further and further into the lake, and the bays between are getting shallower. Still, the lake is large enough, as yet, to be able to stand a little filching from.
We sailed down to Catfield staithe, on the western side of the Broad, and not far from Catfield railway station, on the line already alluded to. Then we went to Hickling staithe, at the north end, where there is an inn, the “Pleasure Boat,” and walked into the village to post letters, and to receive some.
Boats of a rough kind can be obtained here for fishing purposes. They are long, narrow, and flat-bottomed, and the usual method of propulsion is by “setting.” The setter sits in the extreme stern, and pushes the boat along with a light pole, at a great rate. There are often setting races at local regattas, and great fun they are.
The number of broken-up lateeners on the shores of the Broad attest the decay of large pleasure-boat sailing on these remote waters, but the smaller class of centre-board boats are coming into favour, and are, perhaps, more suitable.
After lunch we had to reef the great foresail, which was not an easy operation, as the reef was taken in along the yard, and we had to go into the jolly boat to get to the end of it. The jolly boat committed a joke its species is very fond of, under similar circumstances; that is, it slipped away from under one of us, and left him clinging to the yard, with his legs in the water.
I shall never forget three days I spent, on Whiteslea and Heigham Sound, for the fishing and fowling, one December with a friend. I stayed in the little cottage on the small island in Whiteslea. We had two boats and two men to attend to us during the day, but at night we were left to ourselves in the lonely house, where the water oozed through the floor, and the beds were so damp that I slept completely clothed in my oilies. There was a bitter north-easter sweeping over the dry reeds under a leaden sky, and the sport was of the slowest. I never felt the cold so much, accustomed though I am to winter pike-fishing.