The helpful harbourmaster

When he returned, with his card machine, he had changed into a high-vis jacket to flag up, as a warning, his industry

- DICK DURHAM

A hot weekday morning heralded the arrival of Betty II alongside the floating pontoon at Rowhedge, near Colchester. A sign warned that mooring was limited to two hours - a shame as I intended going up to Fingringhoe Mill the following day and this was the nearest berth.

A burly man with a bushy beard was mortaring in a window on a quayside house.

'You'll be all right there for the night,' he said, wiping sweat from his brow, 'boats only come up to use the pontoon to visit the pub at weekends.'

My new friend said he would introduce me to the harbourmaster - his next-door neighbour.