Wroxham pleasure craft.
The river below Wroxham is very narrow and very sinuous; its banks lined with groves of trees which intercept the wind. The lofty peak of our wherry's sail holds the air over the bushes, and we keep slowly moving along, while smaller boats are either becalmed or, catching sudden puffs, lay over at alarming angles. It is a Saturday evening, and very many little yachts, from the open lugsail sailing boat on which a high-roofed cabin-top has been placed to the 4- or 8-ton yachts of smarter build, are making their way down to more open waters for the happy and healthy week end, most blessed to the person whose occupations are sedentary. A mile or two of charming river reaches brings us to Wroxham Broad—a lovely sheet of water surrounded by an inner circle of tall green and feathery topped reeds and an outer circle of bushes and trees. It is entered by a narrow gateway from the river, and boating is freely permitted, subject to certain wise regulations which are as much to the interest of the public as to that of the riparian owners.
The reeds have a golden belt where the rise and fall of the water has left its yellow mark, shining brightly in the westering sun. In the smooth patches under the lee of the reeds one may see the sparkle of bait flying out from pursuing pike or perch, and in the still bays the coots and water-hens dive and splash. Across and across the Broad skim the white sails of boats and canoes making the most of the dying breeze, and the wavelets sink to ripples, and the ripples are shot with streaks and patches of cloud-reflecting calm. We leave this, the most beautiful and deepest of the Broads, to make the most of the evening air down the river.
On the occasion of the annual regatta there is a prodigious water frolic at Wroxham, which is attended by perhaps a hundred sailing craft of all kinds, and much merriment results.
Gliding quietly down stream we pass on the left Hoveton Broads, Great and Little—nurseries of wildfowl and kept strictly private, with chains across the entrance; on the right Salhouse Broads, Great and Little, on which boating is permitted under protest; and further still on the right Woodbastwick Broad, also strictly private. Hoveton little Broad is a breeding-place of the black-headed gull, which nest here in great numbers.
So by wood and mere and sighing reed we pass with many a twist and turn until we reach the hostelry of Horning Ferry. Here, as night draws on, many vessels arrive. Strolling along the bank we can note what is after all the great fun of Broad yachting—the camping and living on board a floating house, however small. The big wherries and barges are of course floating houseboats, comparatively luxurious; but at the other extreme here are three or four open boats covered in with canvas tents or awnings luminous with the lamps within, and with myriads of dazzled night insects pattering against the shining canvas. The evening meal is being discussed, then there is the clatter of washing-up, the cleaning of knives by thrusting them into the soft bank, the washing of plates with tufts of paper, and the general tidying-up which is part of the fun to young men, but which ceases to possess any charm to older ones. These rivers are capital places for the man fond of single-handed sailing. One well-known and elderly amateur sails a lugsail boat alone, but at a proper distance behind him comes his man in another single-handed boat. The latter pitches his master's tent and relieves him of household troubles, and retires to his own boat tent when not wanted. This is really a capital arrangement.
Wroxham Broad.