Amble Coastal Rowing Club

Amble Coastal Rowing Club Many friends have been made along the way. New skills learned, confidence boosted and a pride developed in a project that represents their own town or village.

Amble Coastal Rowing Club was created with the purpose of bring together local people to build, row, and enjoy our very own St Ayles Skiffs here in Amble, Northumberland In clubs up and down the coasts of Scotland, down through Northumberland, and now spreading across the world, there are people just like you, aged anywhere from 10 - 80 building and rowing these beautiful St Ayles Skiffs. Men and

women, a few with a little experience, but mostly without any understanding of woodwork or any prior boating experience can now call themselves Coastal Rowers. We live in a community steeped in maritime heritage and should be proud of it. Following in the footsteps of the likes of Eyemouth, Dunbar, North Berwick, Gosforth etc, we started a community group to build and row our very own St Ayles Skiffs for Amble. This project provided many different opportunities to get involved as things progressed. Fund raising, planning, social events not to mention the building the boats from scratch. And now we have two completed skiffs providing opportunities for exhilarating and rewarding experience, or just messing about on the water.

25/06/2026

Sunrise on our shoulders... A quick addendum to the recent post that recounted our solstice shenanigans... by the medium of the moving picture x

Sunrises, seals and the earliest of starts, bucks fizz and bagels and all kinds of clarts... it can only be the annual p...
22/06/2026

Sunrises, seals and the earliest of starts, bucks fizz and bagels and all kinds of clarts... it can only be the annual pootle out before daybreak to soak up the solstice energy with those adorable folks from ACRC.. The day started early around 2am as the skiffies trod lightly in their burrows so as to not wake their sleeping hounds (or partners) whilst they slipped on wellies and boiled the kettle, (quite literally letting sleeping dogs lie)... Then, with bags packed and their latches gently closed behind them, they were off to greet the dawn. On meeting their fellow adventurers they spoke in whispered tones, quietly going about their business with practiced efficiency, the result being that the boats were at the water's edge in no time. The issue was that the water's edge was quite a distance from the slipway.. and anyone who launches from an estuary will know about clarts (mud). A natural phenomena of which there are several variations : slippy clarts, that cause you to skid , sinking clarts that like to take possession of wellies and stinking clarts whose aroma tends to cling... Today was the turn of the classic combo of both stinking and sinking varieties.. suffice to say we'd need a hose and sponge later. The water was flat calm and the breeze hardly caused as much of a flicker in the whiskers ..so off we went. Chatter on board was happily as random as usual whilst the skies were akin to walking through a gallery where each segment of our journey to daylight was painted by a different hand. Now there's something particularly special about watching the sun come into view from the water, as we sat bobbing in handmade wooden boats just as folks have done for thousands of years (although I'm not lying, the epoxy did come in handy), immersed in nature, watching and waiting as the Earth rotates and literally tips us into the light from the Sun... How cool is that!! and we know exactly when it's going to happen..to the minute.. I am a realist, and I do know that the sun comes up every day and some may ask what's the difference with the solstice, but it is different, it's a connection to older days and older ways. (What does give me a warm fuzzy feeling is when I get back home and catch the feeds on Facecloth and Instantgran etc, from those other clubs who also made a flask of tea at 2am and made it out to sea to greet that fat old sun as he poked his chops over the horizon. Of course, we're Amble and there's always a twist...and this year's was especially thoughtful... Alan "bloodboots" ceremoniously opened his well appointed coolbox and once again furnished both crews with Buck Fizz with smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels (no hard tack, salt water and weevils for these crews) he even sorted a gluten free one for the ships pet gnome... What a chap!! Safe to say that the sun (and the bagels) were met with gasps, oohs and smiles and not forgetting a snarly aquatic gurgle from the creature from the black lagoon whom we had brought along for the ride.. with the sun now up, it was time to explore the new marker buoy before heading back to the island to sit with the seals who were extremely curious about us and our oars (perhaps they sniffed the smoked salmon)... Four hours after we'd set off, we were back, had hosed down the significant amount of clarts that had joined us earlier in day, and were heading back home with smiles firmly affixed, all this whilst a lot of the world was still just waking up. And whilst on the topic, if you're wondering, the dog did only awaken as I opened the door to our burrow... Final thanks to the sun, for warming our hearts as well as our faces. Find your happy place and go as often as you can ..easy x

Squauks, quacks, caws and dreadlocks on oars.. it has to be another quick upstream pootle with ACRC... Just a short acc...
15/06/2026

Squauks, quacks, caws and dreadlocks on oars.. it has to be another quick upstream pootle with ACRC... Just a short account this time of a grand soiree upriver where the soundtrack and focus was decidedly of an avian nature... from the sand martins hurtling with precision through their narrow doorways as we set off, to the crows arguing between themselves on no topic in particular, swans by the dozen elegantly reminding us that we were rowing on their river and ducklings seemingly at all stages of development, from those starting nursery to those who'd just finished their GCSEs ( you could tell which ones these were as they'd all just signed each others feathers) sprinkle the the odd heron and its reenactment of prehistoric Warkworth, bobbing moorhens, sprinting grebe and dog on a paddle board embracing his inner duck, and we'd really done nothing but row, talk twaddle and take in the world around us... and all at a gentle pace.. and you know what..we are all better for it.. just look at kippers zen state expression in the photo if you don't believe me. The river was heavy with w**d the further we went upstream, and it wouldn't be us if we didn't roll out the predictable "who can get the most w**d on their oar blade" competition, a challenge that was won in grand style by Alan, whose "w**dlocks" were nothing short of natty. I even managed to somehow get w**d on the tiller... We had booked the weather especially for the row, a gentle breeze to push us there and back and blazing sunshine to illuminate the riverbank and top up our vitamin D. Unfortunately we'd ordered from Temu so we rowed against the wind there and back and the sun arrived as we washed the boats down and put them to bed...

Mad dogs and skiffy crews -18 miles, 11 bridges, two skeletons and 29 degrees... It can only be a blast of bank holiday ...
27/05/2026

Mad dogs and skiffy crews -18 miles, 11 bridges, two skeletons and 29 degrees... It can only be a blast of bank holiday "bonkersness" with ACRC as they again rowed the Tyne from Newburn to Tynemouth. On this particular morning the fog on the Tyne was not all mine (all mine) as we were presented with blazing sunshine, a cloudless sky and barely mouse's breath of wind. It was an early start (timed between Frap's first and second breakfast) when that age-old logistical puzzle of the fox, the chicken and the corn swung into action (with boats, cars, trailers and crew taking the places of the animals and the grain) this was strategically planned over a cheeky coffee midweek to ensure that all the people ended up at one point and all the cars and trailers ended up at the other. A warm bank holiday meant that roads were full and parking was a premium and we must give a big thanks to Christine for carrying the drivers back to the start (you're an angel x) This was the first time we'd taken our launching trolly on the road, flipped on top of the skiff and secured via some handy and hasty "wood and ropework" by our resident knotmeister Cap'n Angus, and (to be expected) it worked dream and the boats were soon on the slip. Crew numbers were somewhat depleted for this one so quite literally a Skeleton crew was assembled for one skiff as "Skelly and Boney" (named by two local children who were down by the skiff at the time of launching ) took alternate seats to maintain the appearance of a four person crew ... All that remained was a quick tub of ice cream and we were off... Now in any 18 mile row there's going to be lots to look at and this was no different .. starting in a country park and soon passing the "oar and rower" and "Blaydon races" sculptures marking the course of the original and modern races... green parkland morphed into scrapyards and industrial units, ponies on crumbling banks sat aside new luxury housing and the derelict remnants of factories and long forgotten jetties sat quiet like ghosts, leaving only faint echoes of a proud past... It was only when we passed the metrocentre that it clicked how far up river we'd actually started.. Did anyone mention bridges?? Surely not?? In fact we rowed under 11 in total and with each bridge Frap had another sandwich xx. The bridges offered us a little welcome shade from the sun, whilst Haribo offered glucose for the bloodstream hurrah!!!. Rowing under that iconic succession of Newcastle bridges does give you a certain tingle of childlike excitement and a sense of history and belonging no matter how many times you do it. After the bridges the river starts to widen and passing traffic (small but fast) gave the odd bounce from their bow waves to keep us alert.. this was followed by the cox's motivational message "you've still got another ten miles or so to go xx" at which point the skeletons aboard were seen to visibly chortle as their jawbones shook in the breeze, whilst their arms simultaneously waved to families on the riverside. The next stretch saw more ghosts from the past sat next to modern "big industry" with their strange looking contraptions and techical hoojamaflips aplenty. After checking in for the final time with Port of Tyne we rounded the last bend, suddenly feeling quite small as we found ourselves amongst the 'big lads". The breeze suddenly dropped and water flattened as Tynemouth Priory could be seen beckoning from atop the cliff... The tide had fallen significantly by now and apparently thousands and thousands of people had crammed every beach, every street , every cafe, every bar and every vantage point just to catch a glimpse of us (either that or it was the hottest May bank holiday on record and people love a beach... but I prefer to think of it as the former) We were met on landing by an enthusiastic bunch of children in the water with many questions, mainly about the skeletons, apart from one young fellow (about 8 years old) in an RNLI tshirt who said he make sure we were safe. (The future is in great hands there) Even with the launching trolly, it was a hard push over knobbly rocks and the softest of sand, but there are indeed good people in the world who sprang to our aid (and others who oddly decided to film our grunts and groans. haha)... Olivia at this point restored the crews energy and resolve with hand baked brownies that worked with immediate effect (just look at Alan's face in the pics)... Weaving our way home through Tynemouth was slow as the crowds lined the street to see us off (at least that what I'm taking it as) days like these take planning but are always worth it so a big thanks to the crews for digging in and doing the run with no crew changes (we were easily the most gorgeous crews from Amble in handmade boats on the Tyne that day... I swear it), thanks too to the kind folks who helped carry the boats at the end and the absolute legend from Newburn Leisure Centre who came on his day off to open the slipway gates, cheers to Port of Tyne for letting us do this and giving helpful advice, to Tynemouth rowing club for letting stash the trailers and finally to Milton Blake who back in 1932 invented sunscreen ### love to all x.. I'll add some more pics over the next few days too

May the Oars be with you... A flashback to a May 4th row with those jovial Jedi of ACRC... Where do we start? Oh yes I r...
13/05/2026

May the Oars be with you... A flashback to a May 4th row with those jovial Jedi of ACRC... Where do we start? Oh yes I remember..."A long time ago in a galaxy far far away.." well technically it was just over a week ago on a slipway 30 yards from where we keep the boats, but who are we to let the truth get in the way of a good story. It was halfway betwixt lunch and tea when a rag tag bunch of rebels, bounty hunters, Wookies and Ewoks descended on the Shorebase cantina to try and secure transportation for their next voyage of discovery and mischief. Perhaps predictably, there were no X Wings or Millennium Falcons on the trailers in the compound, but there were two adorable wooden boats (unashamed bias applied here of course, but anyone even remotely involved with these community built little beauties can't help but be beguiled by their charm) our two skiffs, like most older and younger sisters, share a strong family resemblance but are each individuals in their own right. One having long beefy oars, grand for the long stretch whilst the other sports shorter more delicate oars ideal for close quarters navigation. With it being Star Wars day it wasn't long before the phrase "hmmm the oars are long in this one" was heard to emanate from Coquet Venture's Cox's seat, and in a pretty convincing Yoda accent too... It was then quickly established that " too much water over the harbour bar there is" and " bumpy outside it seems" so riverwards we headed at light speed (well rowing lightly if that's what light speed is) The first stage upstream was familiar for any Northumbrian.. cold, grey and windy but this soon changed, almost like that transition to colour in The Wizard of Oz, the sun came out, the trees burst into colour and for a moment summer arrived (no munchkins though) The banter up river was suitably chilled and typically random with Star Wars themed activities created on the fly to occupy the minds, including Sally's R2D2 rowing (row 2, drop 2 and harder than you think to keep time on the return) we even at one point had a guest seal jump up and give us his best Jabba the Hut impression before chasing his tea frantically around the river as if it were the last pea on the plate. We all know that Cap'n Angus is a knot tying Jedi, but today he introduced us to rowing with the force... throwing the oar forwards, letting it go and bringing the stroke back by the power of his mind. This soon (naturally) became a competition to see who could do the most claps before the palms hit timber once more... 7 was our record (well done Sally, who risked a crab to get the last clap in) But it's not all puns, whimsey and outer space... Really it was just us lot having a row up river, raising the heart rate in a good way whilst reducing the stresses of the modern world just for an hour or so and taking in the sights, sounds and the usual wildlife... From ducklings (well done Alan for taking evasive action to let them continue on course) , swans, and seals to those Heron fellows that keep as much a spellbound eye on us as we do them... The row back was a knuckle down job resulting in bit of nifty reverse parking on the slipway and the subsequent recovery and clean down was rewarded by tea and biccies aplenty and of course the obligatory group pic. Ever the advocates of real reality over virtual, we apologise for the assistance of AI in two of the pics this time around, although I do suspect that you already spotted those. Please forgive us . . (Although if anyone has ten real stormtrooper outfits going spare we'd love to do this for real).... May the oars be with you .. love Amble skiffies x

11/05/2026

As a post script to the previous post..join us for a quick tuck and row under the pier....###

Hallucinations, hypnosis, bangers, beards and shooting the piers... another Sunday morning pootle with those nautical ni...
11/05/2026

Hallucinations, hypnosis, bangers, beards and shooting the piers... another Sunday morning pootle with those nautical nicefolk from ACRC. Now there's a lot to be said for being happy in the place you're in rather than what could have been and Sunday morning happily proved just that... The skiffies had emerged from their burrows early to find that neap tides would leave "little watta for wider adventures upriver" and swell over the harbour bar may pen them in from venturing too far out. Unperturbed, the two boats headed in different directions to scope out opportunities for messing about. At this point the tune from Disney's "Ichabod and Mr Toad" sprang to mind and "merrily on our way to nowhere in particular" has been a cursed earworm ever since... After a short period of exploration, the crews reconvened to share tales.. Those in Coquet Spirit (the blue one) reported that it was a little bouncy outside the piers and that they'd been beckoned from the pier by what appeared to be the real Father Christmas calling to another brother in beardhood for banter and reciprocal selfies. The crew of Coquet Venture (the red one) reported that the river was potentially going to be more gravel than water further upstream as expected... What wasn't perhaps as predictable was the casual comment from John that "there were two daschounds flying above Warkworth castle" (Whether these were cloud formations or the effects of medication we may never know) When we started this little club a dozen or so years ago, our world was smaller and we used to launch at little shore and shoot the pier through the biggest gap... The moment that we realised that we'd not done that in so long, there was only ever going to be one wonderfully nostalgic destination... (and a new one for recent joiners) There's something nice about tucking in the oars and squeezing through the gap (something all visiting clubs gave done too) we did note however that the little shore did feel very small (the clue I suppose is in the name) With time by the bucket left, we decided a little Cox training via the old "let's rescue Bob the buoy" exercise might be a jolly jape as well as a useful endeavour... I couldn't hear the coaching chat between the two Alans but presumed that it was some form of hypnosis given the mystical waving of fingers... As morning turned closer to afternoon, minds turned towards stomachs and the sausage sandwiches Wendy had brought as reward (or a bribe), so it was a quick nip through a new and enticing gap in the old pier (woohoo) and we were back at base in no time at all, with boats recovered, washed and put away, and the skiffifolk duly furnished with steaming tea and pork and ale bangers in buns (Mr Young, ever the scout, had adhered to his "be prepared' mantra and brought his own sauce just in case ..what an inspiration) as we say in most of these posts , you can't underestimate the value of messing about in boats with friends with no agenda, minimal plans, a sense of childlike wonder and a packed brunch..With Spring tides next week the world opens up a little again.. watch this space and remember that growing old may be inevitable, but growing up is a choice ###

A cracking crew, a steaming brew, and a seal and a puffin (or two):- it could only be another foray out to sea with ACRC...
19/04/2026

A cracking crew, a steaming brew, and a seal and a puffin (or two):- it could only be another foray out to sea with ACRC... Today was forecast for bright sunshine, no rain, and a wind that was to take an afternoon nap... and I'll be jiggered if it wasn't absolutely spot on... You may have realised that light hearted madness is generally our mantra and today was no different. We were not yet out the harbour mouth when Alan (who'd already set hearts a fluttering with his naked knees) requested we stop so he could de-layer. This will be familiar to most rowers, as we often realise that rowing warms you up quickly and a jacket has to come off. Perhaps what you don't expect is the crew to blast out an acapella version of "the stripper," (a la the Morecambe and Wise breakfast sketch). Flamboyant as always, Mr Burt thrilled (?) us further as he flung his lifejacket open and shut like Eric and Ernie's cupboard doors (younger readers may need to Google that last bit). With a beefy tide running we made grand time and were at the island before we knew it, spotting "puffins on the starboard bow" as we approached... an observation that predictably started the singing again ,(younger readers may wish to Google "Klingons" at this point).. On arrival at the North end of the island we stopped and simply let the tide take us gently along the shoreline ... seals, puffins, eider ducks, terns , a solitary goose and a pigeon (who'd obviously taken a wrong turn when looking for the Harbour chippy) ... In a world that's literally gone mad, where devices curate our consciousness in 30 second chunks of increasing levels of manipulative tat, you can't underestimate how good for the soul a couple of hours at the oar and the chance to sit still in nature and watch it float by (or you float by it) can be... Especially when Wendy opened up the goodie bag and distributed Twix ... Now as a celiac I couldn't have a Twix (boooo) but I could have a 49p cut-price Easter Egg (hurrah) . I ceremoniously peeled back the foil wrap and held the chocolate ovoid aloft in some ritualistic celebration of my very own "Easter Island".. An emotional moment... We really could have stayed for hours more but a 5.3m tide has to come out again, and we didn't fancy rowing against that... so homeward we rowed, fuelled by positivity, random banter and Twix. On the way back we noticed that the often animated waters south of the piers had fallen flat so we hugged up close to Cliff House and crept slowly along the breakwater (to the surprise of a few folks out for a Sunday stroll) before turning into the harbour mouth and heading towards Shorebase where our newly stocked tea and biccies box awaited.... but wait!!!... "Stop!!"We shouted to boat in front... "Well have to stop off on the way home for milk!" A swift pull in towards the quay wall, some close quarters navigation and Wendy was away up the ladders and on the hunt for lactic replenishment... Meanwhile we resumed our collective homeward voyages in the afternoon sun, the wind by now fast asleep...would we see her again? Read on...It wasn't long before we arrived at base, boats were retrieved and were being washed down when the milkmaid arrived, successful in her venture...hot teas, coffees and chocolates followed ..with biccies of course... Special mention to Ruth who had her inaugural row today .. welcome aboard at last x.. There's a lot of waffle here I know, but two or three hours with no real plan, nice people, nature and a little exercise and we're all significantly better for it... Sleep well and let's see if we creak in the morning x

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On The Beach
Morpeth
NE65

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