God's Own Coast Timothy Spall: All at Sea

Let's have a look where we are. There's the abbey.

We are heading straight for the abbey.

-That sounded a bit funny, didn't it?

-No.

'I'm Timothy Spall.'

Don't like that.

'My wife and I, Shane,

'left London six years ago on a journey around Britain.

'So far, we've navigated almost 1,800 miles.'

That's not a nice noise.

'But now, I'm worried we won't get much further.

'We've got trouble. Engine trouble.'

-I don't like that noise.

-It's fine.

I've heard that before... It's not fine.

'Whitby is in sight.

'With a nervous disposition, and a dodgy engine,

'we might as well be on the other side of the world.'

-Are we about four miles away?

-Just don't worry about it.

I'm not worrying, I'm just asking you.

'Please don't fail us now, Matilda.'

# Somewhere at sea. #

Well, we've limped into Whitby.

Could this be where our journey ends this year?

Well done.

Thank you.

That was a bit of an event, that.

We are over three quarters of the way

around our great adventure.

Our plan is to be home in London

before the end of autumn,

but we won't be going anywhere until I get Matilda sorted out.

That's three times that's happened now.

I don't like it.

HE MIMICS ENGINE

An engineer will probably tell you what that is.

I've talked to a couple of people

and they reckon it might be, er,

something to do with the gearbox.

If it is gearbox, it's about lifting out of the boat, taking it out,

I don't know.

Oh, don't let it be that.

Still, there are worse places to be stranded.

Whitby is on the east coast of Yorkshire,

at the mouth of the River Esk.

In the Seventh Century,

Whitby Abbey was home to Cadman,

the earliest known English poet.

My fellow explorer and navigator,

Captain Cook, learned to sail here.

And as a big fan of Gothic novels, I couldn't be better off.

Much of Bram Stoker's Dracula takes place in Whitby.

But before we do any sightseeing, Matilda needs a doctor.

The source of Mr Spall's trouble.

-Very, very dirty fuel.

-Is it?

This is Nick Thwaite,

a marine engineer, who has travelled down from Newcastle

to find out what's going wrong.

What's the prognosis?

Change fuel filters regularly

is about the most convenient way of doing it,

-even though it means going down into the engine room.

-Yes.

-Because having the tanks cleaned is an expensive business.

-OK.

So you've got to teach sir how to change a filter, I think.

I do, yes.

I wish I was good at this stuff.

This thing has to be positioned in exactly the right spot.

Push that upwards,

that filter, just give it a little twist

and then a push up at the same time.

We've had Matilda for seven years

and this is the first filter I've ever changed.

I think that's it.

Now, I'll just check the pressure.

Out it comes, straight out.

Oops, straight down my armpit!

I think we'll now...

-Try and start her?

-Yeah.

We'll pray.

HE STARTS ENGINE < Hurray!

It's actually started better than it has ever before.

Because it usually does a bit of "gulp, gulp" and then starts.

That would've been that, wouldn't it?

I always like it when the engine starts.

Matilda is all set for our next voyage.

We can relax now and enjoy Whitby.

I've got a bit of a penchant for Gothic novels

and I'm also the proud owner

of one of Bram Stoker's walking canes.

"To Bram Stoker Esquire

"from the crew of the USS Chicago,

"1894."

Bram Stoker's cane was given to me by an old friend of mine,

Daniel Farson, his great-nephew.

It's the perfect accessory for a jaunt to the hotel

where he stayed in the 1890s.

Well, here we are in the Royal. The Royal.

Here is a picture of Bram Stoker.

Let me put my glasses on.

"This portrait was presented to the management of the Royal Hotel on the

"occasion of the Dracula Society's visit to Whitby, as it was in Whitby

"that the vampire Count Dracula came ashore,

"in the shape of an immense dog.

"Whitby can truly be named Dracula country."

And there is his cane,

I'll put it in the position like he's holding it.

Well, that's probably about how tall he was, actually.

How tall does that make me?

-Five foot four?

-Yeah.

There's another huge figure commemorated in Whitby.

A great explorer and historic navigator,

whose endeavours I am in awe of.

And there's the man himself, Captain Cook.

This gives you a little bit of gen on him.

He was born not far from here,

just outside, er, a little village just outside Middlesbrough called Marton,

then they moved to Staithes.

He was the son of a local woman

and a Scottish farm labourer who became a farm manager.

The farm owner paid for him to go to school for five years.

Then he ended up apprenticed to a grocer in Staithes,

which is a small town up there.

Then he came here and took to the sea.

It would be ridiculous to compare myself to Captain Cook,

but his boat was flat bottomed, like mine.

And, like me, he taught himself how to navigate.

He also taught himself geometry and cartography.

How about that, then?

He went to sea in a flat-bottomed boat.

He mapped a lot of unmapped territory up

all the way on the east coast of America right up to Australia.

There he is, with his dividers in his hand, look.

I've got a pair of them.

When Captain Cook left Whitby, he took on the world.

When we leave Whitby tomorrow,

we'll be heading for Scarborough.

Yorkshire is a big place.

I wonder if Bram Stoker stood here with this stick?

Looking out to sea thinking, that boat coming in from the Baltics down here,

he must've looked at it imagining it, maybe even pointing with this stick going,

"Yes, I think the ship came in through there."

Through there, under its own power,

no-one on board.

Mysterious ship in the middle of the night,

somehow mooring itself up there, bang.

And then, straight up that hill, up there, along there,

up there, along there, and then the dog disappeared up there.

It's looking good for us to leave this lovely old town tomorrow.

But before we pack up,

I'm going to make the most of the late evening sun.

I've spent all my life doodling, really,

but I'm trying to learn how to draw properly.

I never, I never really drew things I saw,

I always drew things in my head.

It ain't much cop, but I'm learning.

I've only just started to mess about with coloured pencils, so...

I make a few mistakes.

I mean, that's, it's just an idea.

People sort of wax lyrical, don't they?

They sit in pubs in Tottenham and Lewisham

thinking, "One of these days, I'd love to go on a boat,

"sit on a boat and drink a glass of wine,

"and maybe draw a picture,

"with the sun going down and the seagulls.

"One of these days..." I suppose we're actually doing it!

We are actually doing it.

What we are doing

is what a lot of people would like to do,

and we are lucky enough to be doing it.

This is a beautiful place.

Good fish and chips an' all.

Our next destination is only 20 nautical miles away,

down the Yorkshire coast.

Just far enough to ease Matilda's engines back into action,

after her recent minor medical procedure.

Sandwiches of Shane Spall.

This one's particularly good.

It's got crisps in it.

A lovely smooth journey,

we don't get too many of them.

Oh, Scarborough.

It's an original Victorian,

or late Georgian almost,

seaside town,

but it's split by a ravine there,

there's a bridge across it, like a crevasse.

There's some really beautiful old hotels,

where the well-to-do used to come.

Scarborough was Britain's first seaside resort.

It's nice.

'It came to prominence in the 17th century,

'with the discovery of a natural spring rich in minerals.

'In Victorian times, the middle class believed the fresh sea air

'could cure all manner of illnesses.

'The influx of new visitors

'led to the construction of the Grand Hotel

'in 1867.

'At the time, it was one of the largest hotels in the world.

'But we're not checking in there.

'We visit new places,

'and we bring our home with us.'

You know, it's a classic example of what this trip brings out, isn't it?

23 miles from another seaside town,

and it's got a completely different feel to it.

And the accent has changed slightly.

We've gone from Hartlepool,

Hartlypoo-ool,

to North Yorkshire.

Hey up!

And the accent has started thinning out a bit here.

Then when we get past Lincolnshire,

we'll be going from Lincolnshire

to No-rfolk.

Notice I didn't do the Lincolnshire accent,

because I can't do it!

Then it will be Suffolk.

Where my family comes from,

and Cambridge,

where some of my family come from.

Essex. Then we're up Father Thames.

Yeah.

London is getting closer.

We're halfway down the English east coast,

just 250 miles from home.

We're mooring about there?

I can't understand that, that's a road map, love.

We're on our way to Spurn Head,

at the mouth of the Humber Estuary.

Once we get there, we'll be faced with one of the few things

that threatens to destroy an otherwise happy marriage.

Trying to attach the boat to a swing buoy.

We can be frivolous now, but when it's...

Yeah, when we get the swing buoy,

you've got to allow me to do it and then I shall call you.

You will see it on there. You know I can snag it.

Listen to me, listen to me.

I'm listening.

My feeling is that the buoy,

if it's an RNLI one,

will have a massive chain or a hawser on it.

So all you've got to do is get the float.

Yeah, that's what I will do.

Give me a kiss.

Spurn Head doesn't have a harbour, or a marina,

but the lifeboat crew there have given us permission

to moor on their swing buoy overnight.

That should be Bull Sand Fort there.

-OK.

-Quite grim looking.

Slightly...

Something a touch science fiction about it. It's a bit weird.

The Humber has two forts,

Haile Sand Fort and Bull Sand Fort.

Their construction began in 1915,

to defend against a German invasion.

However, they took four years to build.

By that time, the war was already over.

Still, they were 20 years early for World War II.

We've got to get the right buoy, because some of them are pilot buoys

-and some of them are...

-Is it marked?

-It's a yellow buoy.

-There's a yellow buoy there.

-Just have a look round...

-Tides are high, it's slack.

-All right.

I'm going to go.

Just hold on. Hold on.

I think, depending which way the tide is going, we're going to get that buoy over there,

with the boat hook.

Hopefully, it's got a float, but it doesn't look like it's got a float,

so it's going to be quite difficult.

So, yes, Tim and I will row.

Because the way I do it is better than his.

If I've got a rope. Give me the end of the rope quickly.

The sea appears calm,

but there's still a significant tidal rip down there.

I might take up knitting.

I wonder if my trusty first mate

quite understands what a trial this is?

Why don't you let me steer towards the buoy?

-Because you can't do it...

-OK.

-I'll just ease it towards you.

-All right.

-All right?

Just be quiet and wait, please.

'A captain's life is never easy.'

-Just hold that still.

-OK.

Got it.

Well done, love.

'And that, as they say, is how you do it.'

Let's just relish the moment for a second. Christ!

-I've got cramp though. Cramp.

-Do you want to put another one on?

Another lovely day at sea!

Ah, the relaxation, the joy, the fun.

The arguments.

The joy.

The beautiful Spurn Head

is a narrow strip of land

three-and-a-half miles long

which forms the north bank of the Humber Estuary.

We'll moor here tonight, ready for a big journey tomorrow.

I love these swing moorings.

It's like being...

completely cut adrift, but safe.

I'll just go and check that rope.

Today, we're going to go across The Wash

and into Wells-next-the-Sea, in Norfolk.

To get there safely,

I need to leave on a fair tide,

catch the flood down the coast

and arrive at high tide.

I've got to get my calculations absolutely spot-on.

But not until we've dropped some locals into a pan of boiling water.

-How big is it, Timmy?

-Smaller. You need hands!

Come on, Timmy, don't mess with it, just put it in the bloody pan.

-Don't do that!

-Fine.

-Oh...

-Put your leg down, mate.

HE LAUGHS

-It was waving goodbye!

-Timmy, it was not. Next.

-It was waving good night... That's it.

-There's another bag in there.

We don't need to cook three of them.

No, cook them now. I don't want to look in the freezer and find things.

We've met quite a few lifeboat crews on our travels,

but the Spurn Head crew is unique.

It's the only one in Britain where the crew

and their families live full time at the station.

And it's been this way since it was formed in 1810.

This crew look after the area we are about to navigate.

The Humber is the third busiest estuary in Europe.

More than 80 ships a day pass Spurn Head.

This journey has got me, once again, a bit nervous.

It's reckoned there are at least 150 wrecks

within 15 miles of Wells-next-the-Sea.

Thankfully, the boss of the lifeboat crew

has come over to check my route.

Please come aboard. Have a look, have a cup of tea.

I didn't know you could get a small craft folio for our bit of the coast.

-Yeah, yeah.

-It's the perfect size for us.

-That's the route I've put in, along there, across the bank there.

-Yeah.

-Down there. To there, down there, along there.

-Yeah.

-This bit here, I would definitely come out here.

-Yeah.

And basically, if you can parallel until you get past this,

-because this gets very, very shallow.

-Does it?

With the tide, you'll only have a metre and a half,

-two metres on that bit.

-So keep right...

'It's really reassuring to have an experienced lifeboatman

'check your route.'

This place here, we've had some really horrendous collisions on the Humber...

'That's not particularly reassuring.'

Before, they never used to bother, they just used to bomb up and down...

-Don't they look at their radar?

-Yeah, but there's a bit up the top end, there's a cardinal buoy,

and then it's a fairly tightish turn, and you go past...

Two ships just literally smack-bang into each other in dense fog.

Ooh, dear.

I'm not sure if the lifeboat meeting has made me feel better or worse.

It's nine turbulent hours until we reach

Wells-next-the-Sea, in Norfolk.

-Careful.

-Here we go.

Baptism of fire.

If I didn't know the lifeboatmen were only 600 yards away,

I would have fallen over and gibbered on the floor.

Maybe some lobster will help.

Oh, oh...

Oh. I know it's a terrible thing to say,

but they were alive only about eight hours ago,

the freshness of it...

is unbelievable.

This journey marks the crossing of another border.

We're leaving the North of England to enter the South of England.

It's yet another big moment on our round-Britain adventure.

It seems I got the calculations correctly and Wells is in sight,

but the journey is far from over.

These waters are full of hidden sandbanks.

-RADIO:

-'Yeah, keep following me.

'We're going to go out of the channel, take a short cut.

'Just follow me across.'

All right, Wells, understood.

'And thankfully, I've got a pilot boat to guide me in.'

'I don't want to sound rude, but can you go any quicker, or is that it?'

No, I can do another three or four knots, no problem, over.

'If you could. I'd just like to get there before it gets dark, that's all.'

I thought they were going slow.

I thought you were going slow because of the tide.

You go and I'll follow you. I can do about six, seven knots, over.

This channel we're following is full of twists and turns.

I wouldn't fancy doing this on my own.

-Welcome to Wells.

-Thank you.

Tomorrow morning, when we leave at 8:30, this will be full.

The tide will be above all that,

and that's the channel out there, you see.

These sands shift all the time around here,

so they have to keep dredging and changing the channel.

So that's the channel, you know... In the morning, you think, "Ah,

"I'll just go straight across there," but no,

because that's the channel, there, round there,

you'll snake, and we'll snake, and snake our way out.

Wells is one of Britain's hidden gems.

It's blessed with natural beauty.

Yet we've never heard of it before.

Look at it. There, look.

That could be us, there, that could be our barge. Stranded.

There he is waiting, staring down, waiting.

No, he's got a couple of hours yet.

Oi, oi! I'll be doing that in the morning.

Can't wait, can't wait to get up and have a run.

Although it's called Wells-next-the-Sea,

the main town is a mile inland.

500 years ago, this would have been underwater.

The strong tides of the North Sea pushed silt

and sand onto the Norfolk Coast, placing towns like Wells inland.

What a wonderful, wonderful, oasis.

Look at it,

and look at that, that amazing beach.

All these huts that have been there for years and years, evidently.

To buy one of them, they're about 90 grand, or £60,000.

But look at it, it's like an Indian...

If you squint your eyes, it could be like some strange settlers'

encampment, couldn't it?

Or some tepee. It's wonderful.

What more do you need to know about how beautiful a country we live in?

Please, please give me just a gentle day.

I don't know what I'm doing here! Why isn't this working?

-I don't know. We're going round in circles.

-I am lost, actually.

Well, let's call the coastguard.

We're going to Chatham.

I always said we'd never call the coastguard.

I think it's both a celebration

and a spit in the eye of the audacity of fate trying to kill me.

So we went out and tried to kill ourselves.

-Oh!

-Hurray!

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