Prunella’s history and other information; but inevitably with some information from others.

She is a 1938 J.I. Thornycroft built teak on oak gentleman’s yacht 53’loa and 12’ beam, drawing a smidge under 5’.

She was built for her first owner, on Slip 7 (the largest slipway) in the J.I.Thornycroft Hampton Launch Works, on Platts Eyot in Hampton on Thames. The yard is still there but under different ownership.

British Registered, she has a Blue Book.

The great majority of Thornycroft records and pictures that still exist are available either via the National Register of Historic Vessels or the National Maritime Museum.

Stephen Duke her third owner first met Prunella when she was for sale, via Woodrolfe’s Brokerage in 2002. She was on a swinging mooring in Brightlingsea where she had been for the summer followed by Tollesbury in the winter, always afloat, except for her four yearly haul out for any overhaul work, paint, and antifoul.

Prunella has now had just four owners: Francis Heron Muirhead; after him the late owner of Stomps Garage in Chelmsford [name unknown] and then Stephen Duke.  Mr Duke has now sold her (June 2016) to Mr Mark Wightman and Mr. Stefaan Persoons her fourth owners.

She was at launch, fitted with Thornycroft RJ6 diesel engines and is now fitted with 2 Thornycroft RNR6 diesel engines, normally aspirated with no preheating. These are similar to Gardners, i.e long stroke understressed low revving high torque engines.

They were changed during the 1950s or very early 1960s. She starts on the button most of the time unless you’ve failed to flick the mercury float switch in the day tank that is! (There is at least one of these RNR6s in the Thornycroft motor transport museum in Reading, Berkshire]. Engine oil and internal cooling system water levels need to be watched carefully.

She has two water cooling systems per engine; an internal sealed system which uses the header tank on each engine to maintain its level and an external pumped system which is filled from a below waterline intake and discharged via the engine’s exhaust pipe. 

Oil dipsticks are located at the port aft end, low down on each engine. They need to be drawn once; which will show nil or very little and then again which will show a correct reading.

We took her over with an advised 200 hours running time on both engines. She has no engine run time metering devices fitted. I would be surprised if we added any more than 150 hours running time during our ownership. She has two gearboxes, directly connected to the engines.

These gearboxes were built by Self Changing Gearboxes of Southampton and were typical of the high quality kit supplied by Thornycroft. These regulate the speed and direction of rotation of the prop shafts and the two, handed, bronze, 32 inch diameter 3 bladed propellors.

A paired set of Morse Teleflex controls sited in front of the helm and which were original equipment are linked to both the throttles and the gearbox control levers.

She has one rudder which is controlled by the helmsman using a wheel in the wheelhouse linked to the rudder by a set of connecting shafts, running along the port side from wheelhouse to tiller and directed by chain from wheel to shaft and by gearbox from shaft to tiller. By the way, the wheel she has now is from a Camper & Nicholson or Samuel Whites motor yacht of a respectable age. We bought it at the Beaulieu Boat Jumble some time ago. The reason for this that the owner before us having died during our purchase, his widow decided that she wanted Prunella’s wheel to put on her wall but that she would replace it with a nice one. However she replaced it with a Nauticalia wheel of questionable quality and huge diameter, such that it spoiled the helming experience! So, it had to go!

Since we owned her, she was used primarily as somewhere to live while we were both working and indeed after I retired and Stephanie continued for another couple of years. Before we could live on her though, her aft deck was replaced by teak strip fixed to 18mm ply and deck beams were replaced where necessary; covering boards were either re-used or replaced as necessary and the galley, heads and shower were improved.

Shore power was fitted giving 240 volt supply throughout the boat, as well as a Victron 2.5 kW smart inverter/charger. It’s worth noting that, on purchase, cooking and heating was provided by a standalone gas cooker and catalytic heaters respectively. Each one of these items was connected to its own calor gas cylinder by way of a piece of decaying rubber tube made “safe” by one rusty Jubilee clip at each end. We replaced this with a diesel fuelled Dutch made “Kabola” boiler suspended over the port engine, heating water for the calorifier and for the full central heating system via radiators. This worked stunningly well for us and the boat was always pleasant on our return from work. We also fitted a diesel powered  Wallas hob and oven, which was less successful. However, we managed.

The stern post was replaced at the same time as the foredeck after a hire craft hit us while we were tied up in our home mooring. This work was done by the IBTC in Lowestoft

We used her locally only during our ownership, the furthest away we travelled having been Lowestoft or Beccles. The longest coastal voyage we made was Brightlingsea to Brundall when we first collected her and the most unpleasant was the last time we brought her back from Lowestoft to Brundall via the coast and Great Yarmouth; (because Mutford lock was broken); this was in January 2014 and it was a grey day with a moderate but typically short pitched swell combined with a force 5 wind just aft of the starboard beam. Although the Prunella could and did put up with this easily having been built with the east coast in mind, she was fairly light at the time due to having less than half her full load of diesel fuel and consequently rolled quite heavily despite the substantial bilge keels. And of course her bottom was clean and freshly anti fouled.

We undertook an appreciable amount of maintenance / improvement work during our ownership. Maintenance of the varnished cabin sides and decks. (We ended up using International “Woodskin” after many tries with other high quality varnishes as we found that it looked better after a typical East Anglian winter. The painting / antifouling regime was followed with varying degrees of success which depended largely in retrospect on paint quality and antifoul. (Try always to use proper antifoul rather than the freshwater stuff).

Small areas of soft wood were taken out and replaced where necessary and varnished, largely in the side decks aft.  A temporary repair was made to the port side of the wheelhouse coach roof. The foredeck was removed in its entirety, deck beams or beam ends plus parts of the beam shelves were replaced as necessary. The foredeck was replaced using 18mm ply and iroko strip. Covering boards were re-used or replaced as necessary.  

Following our first attempt at heads improvement we fitted an electric heads aft which is connected to the 12 volts side of the electrical supply. The water used to create the flush is drawn from the freshwater tank; under the saloon floor aft end and extending beyond that into the galley. We also reinstated the heads forward.

Returning to the engine room. Although we were anxious to keep any of the old electrical fittings which contributed to efficient working, we decided to remove and replace any china fuses which were still connected. Both the 24 volt and the 12 volt sides have been replaced with new boxes and blade fuses and of course cabling where necessary.

Her first owner who had her specified, built and launched: [she was launched down a (“greasy way”) was Francis Heron Muirhead; one of the sons of the Muirhead family and a significant part of the Muirhead Company which were involved during the 2^nd world war in high level work for Government in electronics concerning wireless. After the war their attention turned to electronic controls for ship stabilisers and I believe the company is still active but now owned by Americans. There are pictures of Mr Francis Muirhead both at his 100^th birthday and earlier in his life while supervising the fitting of yet another set of stabilisers(she was used as a testbed), to Prunella in Brightlingsea in the yard which is now defunct and underneath the small marina development there.

The first owner employed a full time skipper, as well as part time crew. We met the skippers son during our ownership and one of the stories he told us concerned his father having his leg broken by standing in a bight of chain whilst recovering Prunella’s anchor. Moral here; never stand in a bight of chain, wire or rope which is attached at both ends! The skipper was on board permanently and lived in the crews quarters, (forward of the engine room). But in order to get to the owners accommodation he had to climb out on to the foredeck via the hatch and make his way aft from there.

 During this period she was also used as the committee boat for the Colne Yacht Club  Brightlingsea and as such would have carried quite a few of the great and the good of that time.

Muirhead was a friend / acquaintance of Mr Marconi and he was almost certainly a guest on Prunella. She had, when we first took her over, a Faraday cage, on the port side just ahead of the engine room but with no door, so incomplete, and regrettably no electrical (wireless) contents. This used to carry a sign on the door which described it as the Marconi room.

Moving on to the second owner, who I remember as the owner of Stomps Garage, in Chelmsford, although he died partway through our negotiations with his agent, which were completed by his widow and family. We know only a little about this period in the Prunella’s life. She was still in Brightlingsea / Tollesbury. Stomps garage was a business that dealt with the repair and servicing of vintage Bentley cars. The owner used the Prunella not only for his own entertainment, but for the enjoyment of his garage staff and possibly his customers. We know that her maintenance routine was followed during his ownership. (Since this was written, we have met someone who knew the second owner, but not all that much about him and nothing that would add appreciably to this document). The second owner used to employ a couple of men who kept an eye on the Prunella as well as having an input to her external paint and varnish work and looking after the engines, moorings and acting as crew when she went out into the estuary or to sea.

History which may well be worth revisiting

Prunella was requisitioned at the beginning of the 2^nd world war by the Admiralty. She was not used in the Dunkirk evacuation. This was confirmed to me by the Little Ships of Dunkirk Association Archivist a few years ago. Unfortunately the copy of the e-mail I had is missing but you are welcome to write to him again.

Usually the use of vessels requisitioned by the Admiralty can only be learnt by reading the official signals which pass from Admiralty to vessel commander and back. Unfortunately, Prunella’s signals from Admiralty are “missing” which has made the search for what she was used for difficult. However, there is a strong suggestion that she may have been used as a fleet tender in Scapa Flow, primarily moving crew from ashore to ships but with a secondary use for collecting “dummy” torpedoes so that they could be reused. Consider the size of her davits and the area of her afterdeck.

We gathered this information from an acquaintance who confirmed to us that there were four or so very similar vessels to Prunella that were being used there for this work. Alternatively she may have been used for under cover voyages, possibly across the channel and back to deliver or recover agents. [Since I wrote this we have discovered that Prunella was placed under the control of the Nore Command and she is listed there as being in Brightlingsea. But, she does have a Nore Command number which is also listed there I understand] The Nore Command’s authority extended from North Foreland all the way up to Scapa Flow so this might be worth a look as it would confirm or otherwise where she was during the 2nd world war. I believe that the Imperial War Museum in London is the place to start. But always remember that you may discover that she sat in Brightlingsea during the war without being used. Anything is possible.

Stephen Duke --- Prunella’s 3^rd owner --- 2002 to 2016 written November 2016

Old photo of me (Peter Beadles)with my ex, Jennifer Beadles  and daughter Sarah Jane (who found the photo).  I used to live next door to Arthur De’ath in Edward Avenue when he was the yachtsman who looked after Prunella.

If you enlarge the photo you can just make out “Prunella” on the bell.  We visited a few times and had tea on board.  I used to go trawling with Arthur using Prunella’s diesel tender.

Sarah Jane is now 49 so photo was probably 1969 .

Photos kindly contributed from Nigel De'Ath  (Son of Arthur Death. Prunella Skipper for 40 years)

Memories of Prunella

By  Nigel De'Ath  (Son of Arthur Death. Prunella Skipper for 40 years)

Let me start with what I will call “Pre-Memories” because I don’t remember these events at all.  They happened when I was very young or before I was born (1957).

I don’t know the exact date that my Dad, Arthur Death (I developed the apostrophe when I went to university as Death wasn’t the common surname in Nottingham, that it was in north-east Essex) became skipper of Prunella, working for its first owner, Francis Heron Muirhead (FHM). It must have been in the late 1940’s or early 1950’s.  But two tales Dad told me from that time stick in my mind.

Firstly, Dad, who skippered Prunella for around 40 years, but could never swim, rowed from Pru, as we always called her, to rescue a boy scout who was in difficulties swimming (or not, apparently) from Point Clear Stone.  I believe Dad saved his life, though he never made much fuss about it.  Dad was like that.

Secondly, Dad told me that Joan Collins once came aboard Pru in the 50’s.  Given that FHM was a devout bachelor who didn’t smoke or drink, and lived in a council flat, the connection takes some believing.  However, both FHM, and Joan C, less surprisingly, mixed with what Dad called “London Big-Wigs” and it was, I am sure, with some of them, that Joan’s main interest lay, and they happened to have been invited aboard.

Other “Pre-Memories” can be seen from some of the early photos I have, I must be 3-4 years old in them and do not remember the photos being taken.

From an early age, I was a cricket and football fanatic (still am in fact) and the former sport is responsible for my first Pru memory.  In the Ashes summer of 1964, the Aussies Bill Lawry and Bobby Simpson put on over 200 for the first wicket in the Old Trafford test in July.  Simpson went on to make a triple century.

There was a radio on Pru and I often used to listen to the cricket on it – commentary was on the Third Programme, which became Radio 3.  It must have been after I was listening on that summer afternoon that I went to the loo. 

You have to concentrate when peeing on a boat, even in calm weather, because there is always a certain swell.  Whilst concentrating, I noticed the manufacturers’ name, inscribed on the porcelain bowl:  “Simpson & Lawrence”.  Not quite an exact match but enough for me to have been appalled.  Even at that age I had a distinct dislike of Australian cricketers (though not the rest of them I hasten to add).

Let me say something of the detail of Dad’s skipper job.  Firstly, it was very poorly paid.  However, there were ameliorating circumstances, which I will come on to later.

From the last weekend in April, to the last weekend in September, FHM would cross London from his home in Beckenham, catch the train from Liverpool Street, bus from Colchester’s North Station to Brightlingea’s Station Road stop, and walk to the Hard, where Dad would collect him between 6 and 7 on a Friday evening.

Until Monday morning between 8 and 9, when the ritual was performed in reverse, Dad was more or less FHM’s servant, preparing meals and generally waiting on him, addressing him as “Sir”.  And so 40 years of summer weekends passed.  Occasionally a new stabiliser or engine development would require a spin “Up the Colne” and Pru would actually leave her mooring in the middle of Brightlingsea Creek – but this was extremely rare.  If a “Big-Wig” from London came, as they did when a new stabiliser needed trialling, they might also be given this treat but it was very unusual.

Most weekends were spent with FHM in the engine room, pottering lovingly over the engines that he knew like the back of his hand.  Dad spent much of the weekend – to my Mum’s disgust – in the forecastle on Pru’s foredeck, by himself and bored.  It was very much an Edwardian “Upstairs, Downstairs” arrangement, without any supporting players.

I do know that Dad asserted himself on 6 May 1978.  That was the day of the cup final that year – between Ipswich and Arsenal.  I was, and remain, an Ipswich fanatic, and Dad supported them more moderately.  He actually asked if he could listen to the commentary on the radio, which was in the wheelhouse.  Permission was granted, and “Osborne 1-0” ensured a happy day.

Dad invariably came home to sleep Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights about 9pm, unless it was particularly rough when he felt obliged to ensure FHM was ok, the latter being probably 20 years older than he.

So we never had a summer holiday – we couldn’t as Dad was always at work at weekends.

During the week Dad’s job was to maintain Pru in pristine condition and to do likewise to the varnished dinghy row boat and motor launch which tendered Pru.  He did both admirably and was always accused by Mum of keeping the boats in better condition than our home.  The motor launch was upgraded in the early 70s from an open boat about 12 feet long to a slightly longer version with a cabin at the front.

Another chore – although it wasn’t a chore to me – was that every evening, weekend and weekday, Dad had to “put the light up”.  Every morning it was taken down.  Clearly this was another holiday restrictor.  If it wasn’t a weekend, when he was on board anyway, it involved taking the dinghy or launch from Brightlingsea Hard or Shipyard, depending on where they were secured, and the state of the tide, to Prunella and turning on and off a light that was fixed to the mast rigging.

The purpose was to ensure that night time passing sand and ballast barges going empty to, and returning loaded from, Brightlingsea Creek’s two sand and ballast works, avoided pristine Pru.  They always did.

I mentioned that this was not a chore to me because I used to love to go with Dad, from quite an early age, to carry out the putting up of the light.  As I grew older, I would crab and swim off Pru, if the current was ok and when I grew older still I was trusted to carry out the function alone, often with mates who also went swimming.  This was in spite of the fact that on one occasion, while we were drying ourselves after a swim, the dinghy loosed itself from Pru’s railings – doubtless because of the inefficient way it was fastened – and we returned to the deck to spy the dinghy on Brightlingsea Promenade.

Luckily the current hadn’t taken it out to sea and, as Dad and “his” boats were well known in Brightlingsea, someone recognised it and the helpless teenagers waving from Pru, and rowed it back to us.

So you are now getting a hint that Dad’s job wasn’t all bad for me – and neither was it for him.

He bought a trawl, which was fastened to the back of the launch with the small cabin and spent literally hundreds of hours catching the freshest skate (my favourite), sole, dabs, flounders and very, very occasionally lobsters.  We would often have for lunch (our main meal) fish that had been in the sea only a few hours previously.  Neighbours and friends benefitted similarly in return for a small supplement to Dad’s wage.

I believe my education benefitted significantly from Pru.  Where, more relaxing, could you go to do “O” level, “A” level and degree level revision? Knowing that the cricket scores were only a switch away every few hours, if England weren’t playing and Essex were (the Light programme – scores at 13.50 and 16.35).  If England were playing and I was bored with History, I’d tune in to the Third Programme ball by ball commentary, often from the peerless John Arlott.

Also knowing that if the tide was right and the books became too tedious, a swim was seconds away.

In the very long holidays after “A” levels and finals, Dad and I would often get up about 5, when the tide required it and fish in the Colne, often sharing a roll up or two, when Mum wasn’t about.  Neither of us was a proper smoker but the odd one wouldn’t hurt, unless Mum found out.  The catch would be divi’d up among the select few.

Sometimes friends and I would sleep on Pru, playing cards and listening to Radio Caroline, or Radio North Sea International until the early hours.  Sleep was always disrupted by the chugging of the sand and ballast barges as they plied their trade up and down the creek. 

In spite of the fact that the light had been put up, we were always grateful when the chugging receded, meaning that the barge had passed.  These creatures were like the Bowbelle, which caused the Marchioness disaster in 1989, and while there were never as many people on board Pru as the Marchioness, our fate would have been the same in any collision.

Because of the time Dad had available in the week, at least a couple of times a summer, we would visit East Mersea or Second Beach in the motor launch with my Mum, her brother Len, his wife and one or two of his daughters.  Len, in particular loved these outings, which always finished with tea on Pru and my cousin and I seeking out FHM’s white sugar cubes, which were quite rare in those days for the likes of us, though of course no less detrimental to teeth than now.

There were a couple of times a few friends and I took girls onto Pru and the tenders.  Neither was successful.  The first time, we went out in the dinghy, four of us and two girls, but the wind was so strong that, although we had only gone across to Point Clear Stone from Brightlingsea Hard, we had to gesture Dad, in the shipyard, to collect us in the motor launch as our manpower had no control over where brainpower wanted the dinghy to go.  Not a good impression to create.

The other occasion was not a great example of friendship. 

We had been swimming off Pru with the same two girls.  One of my mates and I had climbed back on board Pru and the girls were still the water.  One girl, particularly well endowed, had inadvertently slipped out of her bikini top for all to see.  Unfortunately my “mate” who had seen the whole performance, alerted her to her accidental indiscretion just as I arrived in the viewing area!

Back to Dad and how he spent his time.  Dad always had close links with James and Stone Shipyard.  The shipyard is now a not altogether unpleasant marina, with a not altogether sold out development around it.  I believe the yard closed in 1985.  Brightlingsea’s other shipyard, Aldous’s, closed some 20 years earlier and its legacy is a series of maritime related businesses and activities.

In the 60’s and 70’s James and Stone had established commercial ties with Nigeria and exported boats there.  I recall a young Ebo man, the first black man in Brightlingsea I imagine, who worked in the yard, doubtless under this commercial arrangement.  It was at the time of the Biafran War and the Ebo tribe featured heavily among the casualties.  I befriended him and I recall that he lodged about halfway down New Street in Brightlingsea, above a greasy spoon café.  But at least he wasn’t fighting.

That is a bit of a side story – the main point of the Nigeria mention is that the boats, tugboats as I recall, which James & Stone made for Nigeria, were transported to their country of destination, from London Docks, which were then still thriving, though past their golden age.  Dad’s seamanship was well known in Brightlingsea and he piloted several from Brightlingsea to the docks.  Mum and I accompanied him once to Millwall docks –it was great fun but you could see where their football fans came from.

This was another sideline which boosted Dad’s meagre FHM wage.

FHM had made his money through his electronics firm Muirhead plc, which was sold to Ransomes Hoffman Pollard (RHP), a subsidiary of Ingersoll Rand, in 1985.  I imagine this made FHM’s small fortune considerably less small as I believe he was the major shareholder, although of course he didn’t spend his money on anything anyone might call normal.

Muirhead’s, founded by FHM’s father, had long been held in high esteem in the electronics industry and I believe that FHM knew Marconi.  However, the only relative he ever mentioned was a niece who I assume inherited what he left.  I only ever spoke to him a handful of times and my Mum not much more.  He wasn’t an unpleasant man, just very different.

It was unfortunate that the period when I met FHM most often, was the one after Dad’s accident, which FHM was responsible for, albeit accidentally.

I was home from Birmingham, where I had been on a training course with Midland Bank, my first post university employer.  It was just past lunchtime on a Saturday in early September 1978 and Mum and I heard the ambulance siren from where we lived.  I was about to go and play cricket when we received a telephone call from Dick King, a Brightlingsea Hard to Point Clear Stone ferrymen, who knew Dad well.

He told us of the accident and we realised that the ambulance we had heard was for Dad.  Obviously we left everything and made for the hospital.  Dad was in as good spirits as you could expect given that the accident – and thankfully we didn’t see the evidence – had turned  his foot 180 degrees from where it should have been.

The surgeon told Dad he was lucky he didn’t lose his foot and that year FHM’s summer ended a few weeks early.  I don’t know if he ever actually apologised but he shuffled round guiltily every time we saw him when he came to visit, both hospital and later, home.  In that period we saw more of him than in the previous 30 plus years put together.

So what happened?  I wish I knew the technical terms better but, being near the end of the summer, Pru had been taken for “a spin” and when Dad was trying to pick up the mooring upon her return, he had shouted an instruction to FHM, who was at the wheel and controls.  Whether Dad shouted “forward” or “back”, I don’t know but FHM did the opposite resulting in the mooring chain wrapping itself around Dad’s ankle and delivering his foot to 180 degrees.  Horrible.

I don’t know the exact circumstances of Dad’s rescue, nor do I know how FHM sounded the alarm but I believe Dick King, a very decent man, transported Dad from Pru to the Hard and the waiting ambulance, but I don’t know how he was lifted from Pru onto Dick’s vessel.  Nor do I know how long this took but there were, of course, no mobile phones, so when quite the call to the ambulance was made, I couldn’t say.  But Dad must have experienced considerable pain for at least 45 minutes.

Anyway it didn’t end the relationship and Dad, then 64, was on the Hard between 6 and 7pm the final Friday of the following April.  He carried on working for another 3 or 4 years and lived until he was 86, so no long term damage was done.

What more to say?

Well so far we have only covered Pru’s existence during 5 months of the year.  The other seven she was generally in James & Stone Shipyard on one of their slipways or other dry dock.  FHM made the occasional ceremonial visit in the winter but these visits were rare and Dad busied himself with de-barnacling, painting and other such routine out of water tasks, so that Pru remained the “Pride of The Creek – the Colne” even.  I called her that though I don’t know if anyone else did.  Even if they didn’t I am sure many thought it.

The routine out of water tasks did not take up all Dad’s time as you might imagine, even though there were three vessels to keep in first class condition.  So another of his jobs on the side came into play – being an oysterman.

Brightlingsea was one of the few places in the UK which grew oysters.  Although they were called Brightlingsea Natives, a name which was also taken by the local ladies hockey team, I fear they were misnamed.  I know that Christopher Kerrison, who owned the oyster fishery, increasingly brought young oysters, spawned in Scotland, down to Pyefleet Creek (off the River Colne to the north of East Mersea).  In our southern warmer waters – we always said the warmth was down to the proximity of Bradwell nuclear power station – they grew to maturity more quickly. 

The oyster gang consisted of 6 or 7 men and three dredgers, two of which were former fishing boats.  When the oysters had grown sufficiently, they would be dredged and cleaned of barnacles and other waste and sent to “posh” restaurants in London.

I have grown to like raw oysters but Dad, who would sometimes catch oysters himself on the foreshore, when a really low tide had exposed them, would only allow us to eat them fried in batter.  In fairness oysters fried in batter were a lovely breakfast and I now don’t mind how I take them.  The reason that Dad didn’t like them was because of a severe gastric reaction to the first one he ever ate. My wife similarly turned against them several decades later, for the same reason.

However, as someone who’d never eat raw oysters himself, and who was very good at opening the shells, Dad was employed for several years as oyster opener on the day of Colchester’s Oyster Feast.  This was one of the highlights of Colchester’s civic calendar, always attended by the mayor and at least once by Ted Heath.

Again I was occasionally taken along by Dad, when he worked on the oysters and I recall going over the top of my wellies one frosty winter morning as we looked for oysters on the foreshore of Brightlingsea Promenade.  To this day, that was the coldest I’ve ever felt – and there was no quick way to warm.

This link also lead to one of my many school/university holiday jobs.  Many can say they have been paper boys, postmen, baker delivery boys, milkman and shop assistants as a part time employee.  I was fortunate enough to have been all those, and oysterman as well, a much rarer cv entry.

I can’t recall the exact year of Dad’s retirement but I think it was after the summer of 1981 – it could have been the following year.  Dad was the last of the traditional Brightlingsea yacht skippers, whose unconventional day job I have tried to give a flavour of.  But my Prunella story didn’t end there – the most emotional part was still to come.

My Mum harboured hopes that FHM might leave at least one of the boats to Dad when the latter retired.  That was never realistic as it didn’t fit an “Upstairs, Downstairs” script.  Instead Pru was sold to Bernie Cowan.  For several years Bernie, had known Dad and FHM as the owner of the “Irene J”, a much smaller yacht, also moored in Brightlingsea Creek.  Two more different people than Bernie and FHM, you couldn’t imagine.  Bernie owned a garage near Chelmsford and was a former wrestler and an extrovert.

However, Bernie got to know FHM well and would often come aboard Pru for tea at the weekend, with his female companion, Val.  Val was a very pleasant lady, though we believe Bernie left his wife in Chelmsford and that she knew about Val.  We had no proof and I guess it was none of our business.

Anyway Bernie built an unlikely friendship with FHM in the late 70s and early 80s so that when FHM sold Pru, Bernie was in pole position, a position he didn’t let go.

Dad and I liked Bernie – he was a larger than life character. He allowed Dad to go fishing from the motor launch for a few more years before Dad finally accepted that his seabound days were over in the mid 80’s.

We lost touch with Bernie but when Dad died in the first November of this millennium, I knew how to contact him through other Brightlingsea “sea-dogs” and I asked him if he would let us take Prunella out to sea to bury Dad’s ashes.

Bernie very kindly agreed and supplied a crew as well.  So in the summer of 2001, the crew (3 people including Bernie), my Mum, wife, brother, sister-in-law and Reverend Jones, a Brightlingsea clergyman and friend of the family, set off for the mouth of the Colne, where Dad, and to a lesser extent I, spent many happy hours trawling.  It was probably the furthest I ever travelled in Pru.

Barry, my brother, and I, duly scattered the ashes on Dad’s beloved waters, and although some of them rebounded on us, because we didn’t have Dad’s instinct for what the wind might do, it was such an emotional and appropriate moment.  Something that I will always be grateful to Bernie for.

After this I lost touch with Bernie and Pru and I can’t recall how I discovered that she was at Wroxham under the ownership of Steven Duke.  But as soon as I did I contacted Steven and he kindly let my wife, my two sons and I visit one Sunday afternoon. 

This would have been around 2008, I guess.  The boys, by then in their 20s, had never seen Pru before and were impressed – they hadn’t come to the ashes ceremony.  I was slightly disappointed as through necessity, Pru’s fabric was very different.  Steven had decided to use Pru as a houseboat and as such, the feel of the yacht had changed and sadly her splendid bronze bell had been lost somewhere along the way.

But it was great to see the old girl again and we were most grateful to Steven for allowing us on board.

And then the trail went cold until I Googled “Motor Yacht Prunella” in the spring of this year and the response told me that a yacht chandler had sold her last year.  I contacted them but they didn’t respond.  I was resigned to losing touch.

Then I went to watch the film “Dunkirk” with my eldest son in July.  In one scene featuring the small craft which went to Dunkirk to help with the evacuation I thought I saw Pru and I nudged my son and told him. “Don’t be daft Dad” he said in the condescending way that adult sons speak to their parents when they believe they are being stupid. 

A short while later another scene also gave a glimpse of what I thought was Pru.  I nudged Ben again, this time more convinced.  Again he wasn’t buying but this time less sure of himself.

Anyway, when we left the cinema I Googled “Motor Yacht Prunella at Dunkirk” and the rest is public knowledge…….

 The boy ringing the Prunella's ships bell is Nigel De'ath, son of Arthur De'ath who was Muirhead's Skipper