Sailing

In a darkened room in Maldon, Essex, a ship’s lantern illuminates the laundry drying on a web of ropes suspended from the ceiling. Between piles of sailing memorabilia, 86-year-old Barry Pearce is flipping through a yellowing logbook, watched by his mongrel, Winkle. It feels more like a ship’s cabin than a terrace house. Pearce is one of a handful of surviving skippers who delivered freight on the Thames by sailing barge, the flat-bottomed trading boats famous for their striking red sails that were endemic to the river’s estuary until the 1960s. He remembers the names of every vessel he worked on – Remercie, Edith May, Colonia.

In the 19th century, the ochre sails of thousands of Thames sailing barges pierced the skyline as the craft carried cargo from the Thames estuary and beyond in and out of London. Their shallow draft allowed them to snake far upriver in as little as a metre of water (bargemen would boast that they could sail anywhere there had been a heavy dew). Their ingenious rig, with sails that could be set and stowed with the help of winches, meant around 150 tonnes of cargo could be shifted by just a skipper and mate – often accompanied by a guard dog. This efficiency allowed them to outlive all other commercial sailing vessels, surviving until the 1960s, when Pearce himself took the helm.

Today, only about 30 Thames barges are still sailing, either as private homes or leisure cruisers. Two of them – Pudge and Centaur – lie like beached krakens on the oozing mud of Maldon’s Blackwater estuary. Both are owned by the Thames Sailing Barge Trust, a charity run entirely by volunteers, including Pearce. Every summer, both vessels can be hired as private charters for groups of up to 12, or you can book a berth on one of their one- to three-day public sailing cruises. They also offer events such as children’s art days throughout the year.

I’m here on a scorching evening at Hythe quay to spend the weekend exploring the River Blackwater and Essex coast aboard Centaur, a barge built in 1895. Itineraries are flexible and based on passengers’ interests. For us it involves sailing up the Blackwater, a Pimm’s at Tollesbury Marina, and a swim off Shingle Point and wander around West Mersea on Mersea Island. Our motley crew consists of three trainees overseen by skipper Chris Martin, who teaches boatbuilding at vocational training organisation Circles Alternative Education.

There are also six passengers, ranging in age from 18 to 76, in five cabins, which are basic but comfortable (each has a wash basin). Although I am the only one who is not a competent sailor, Martin makes it clear that helping to handle the barge is optional.

Unwisely, given our 3am departure to catch high tide, I sink several pints with the two youngest members of Pudge’s crew in the Little Ship Club on the quay. A behemothic man wielding a squeezebox sings sea shanties as salty couples slow dance nearby. “I only know of one or two people my age who are into barging, and I find that disturbing,” yells 25-year-old Charlie Francis over strains of Bound for South Australia. “Barging was the lifeblood of the east coast. We should be proud of our heritage and celebrate the communities working to preserve it.”

After a few hours in my bunk, I make it on to deck at 4.15am. The moon is a slice of radish in a lilac sky. We’re bearing away from the wind and, having set the sails, the crew is already on their second round of tea and custard creams.

As dawn paints its peachy palette, Martin turns the great wheel. He points out Blackwater landmarks that only a local would know: the green buoy known as the Doctor, where early 20th-century fishers left spirits for the alcoholics supposedly drying out at Osea Island’s temperance resort; the pub where, as recently as 20 years ago, Martin witnessed a smuggler wordlessly deliver two dripping bags while regulars stared determinedly into their pints; the hulking trawler, Ross Revenge, which is still home to Radio Caroline, the former pirate station – another relic kept alive by volunteers of the Blackwater.

Where the river opens into the silvery sea, the wind picks up and the barge rocks gently against the tide. My eyelids are heavy and the slowness of the whole experience is working its magic on my screen-frazzled brain. Martin calls for the staysail to be unfurled, a 20-minute task that rewards the barge with another knot and a half of speed. “This life is the antithesis of the digital age’s obsession with instant gratification,” he says. “Sailing barges may not be able to teach us much about cargo any more, but they can teach us the value of slowing down, doing things with our hands and spending time in nature.”

As we make our stately, seven-knot progress, 370 sq metres of rust-red canvas billows above and fingers of salt marsh slide by. With so little distraction, the coffee tastes lip-curlingly bitter, the bacon sandwiches as saline as the deep. I settle on a coil of rope to scan the horizon for porpoises, but soon drift into sleep.

A swim from a sandbank near Tollesbury is followed by a meander through West Mersea at golden hour. Clapboard cottages framed by hollyhocks sit beside sailmakers and chandleries converted into trendy cafes. We drop anchor in the Blackwater estuary and beneath a blazing sunset tuck into lasagne on deck. I haven’t felt this present for months. It’s all such a delight I begin to feel concerned about the trust’s future. Sailing barges cost between £30,000 and £100,000 a year to keep afloat. The trip I’m on costs just £220 including meals, while the Trust’s annual membership is only £37.50.

Although the trust offers training in many of the skills needed to maintain the barges, sourcing the timber is becoming increasingly difficult – and expensive. “Centaur’s exterior planking is pitch pine from the Mississippi basin, which is incredibly durable, but has been virtually exhausted,” says Martin. “And so much of the timber trade has been replaced by plastic.”

The trust also offers free training for future skippers, including the mate on our trip, 18-year-old Ben Weldon, the son of a local shipwright. However, it typically takes 2,000 hours – or 10 years – and the dropout rate is high.

While the trust has recently been awarded £28,090 from the National Lottery Heritage Fund to develop a bid for the £4m needed to restore Centaur, it seems wrong that responsibility for keeping this thread of Britain’s maritime story from unravelling rests on so few shoulders. Sailing may be associated with privilege, but we are a seafaring nation and this inheritance belongs to all of us.

On Sunday morning, our last on board, a westerly fills the sails, and the tea-coloured Blackwater wrinkles beneath the bow as we beat our way back towards Maldon. “Lee ho,” Martin calls, showing me how to spin the wheel to help the crew tack. “So far we’ve used less than a gallon of fuel to do 50 miles. Pretty extraordinary, given that a family car does about 30 miles to the gallon.”

When I asked Pearce at the start of the trip why keeping Thames sailing barges afloat is worth the fight, he looked blank, as if such a question had never occurred to him. He showed me a pencil sketch of a barge he had drawn at the age of 15 in Greenwich, left half-finished when his skipper had poked his head through the hatch and invited him below for dinner. Now, more than 70 years later, he bends once more over that drawing as though no time has passed.

Eventually, he half-whispers: “Well, they’re just lovely, ain’t they?” He glances toward the window. Nearby, Centaur waits on the mud for the returning tide.

The trip was provided by the Thames Sailing Barge Trust. The next weekend aboard Centaur departs on 14 August, £220 for two nights’ full board; three-night trips depart on 3 September (£350 on Pudge, £320 on Centaur) and 18 September (£290 on Centaur). A variety of one-day sailings are also available
from £55 to £125pp

The ultra-luxury cruise ship recently docked in London for the first time so I went to see what passengers can expect from a holiday that includes two helicopters and a submarine

As a travel journalist, I often have to convince people that my life isn’t all glitz and glamour, but it was difficult to argue my case as I sat drinking champagne on a six-star cruise ship.

The Scenic Eclipse II docked for the first time in London last month, and I got the chance to have a nosey around and see what life is like onboard this luxury vessel. Coming out of the very unglamorous tube, I immediately spotted the boat moored just off of Greenwich Pier, looking more like the kind of superyacht you’d see in the waters of Monaco than in the murky Thames.

While many cruise lines compete to build bigger and bigger ships, Scenic Eclipse II has focused on quiet luxury and an exclusive experience for those onboard. Only 228 guests can board each of its voyages, (200 if it’s visiting polar waters) and with a staff ratio of nearly 1:1, service is incredibly personal. Each of its 114 suites comes with butler service, and the layout means everyone gets a veranda where they can enjoy the views. Which is handy, because the ship visits plenty of places where you’ll need a good camera.

Our group took a quick, if choppy, Thames Clipper service across to the Scenic, and were relieved to step onto its much more stable floors. As soon as you step onboard, you definitely feel the luxury vibes, and it felt more like the lobby of a five-star hotel than a cruise ship. Sipping a glass of champagne in the plush lounge, and taking a sneaky peek at the top shelf drink selection for all-inclusive guests, I started to make a plot to stowaway on the ship.

But I settled for a sneaky peek around its deluxe rooms instead. Firstly, to one of the top decks to see the vast Owner’s Penthouse Suites, set at the front of the ship so you get to make the most of the views, presumably while soaking in your private spa tub while the butler tops up your drink. It had a plush bedroom area, huge living room with its own bar, and walk in-closets where you can store all your best cruising outfits for black tie galas.

You certainly won’t be slumming it if you opt for one of the lead-in Verandah Suites. These have a king-size bed, a curtained off living area, and marble en-suite bathrooms, and even the ‘basic’ level rooms on this ship get butler service, in-room dining, and much more included.

Of course, nobody goes on a cruise just to sit in their room, and Scenic Eclipse II is clearly for cruisers who have a more adventurous side. Passengers can book trips on one of the ship’s two helicopters, or even get onboard its submersible to explore the deepest waters with 360-degree views. The relatively small size of the ship compared to many mega cruise ships mean it can also visit a wider variety of places, and its itineraries range from Antarctic adventures to relatively tame Mediterranean voyages.

One feature that I found really fun was that the navigation deck would be kept open for the duration of the cruise, so you can pop along and chat to crew members, see the equipment up close, and live out your fantasies of being captain. But sadly, they won’t let you press the buttons.

A team of 38 chefs onboard means you have a huge range of culinary options for a relatively small ship, about 10 all-inclusive choices overall from lounges with snacks and coffee to impressive Italian, fine French dining, a sushi counter, and a Teppanyaki grill experience.

Add to this a couple of pools, an incredible spa with a gym and yoga room, and a plush lecture theatre offering a program of talks as well as workshops and entertainment, and I can’t imagine you’d ever get bored during your cruise.

After leaving Greenwich, the Scenic Eclipse II is made its way to Hamburg, continuing through Ostend, Belgium, before cruising the Elbe River. This five-night itinerary starts at £4,4951 per person.

The specifications of the ship mean it has plans to visit some of the world’s most extreme environments in the future, including Antarctica and the Arctic, as well as classic Mediterranean destinations, Oceania, and the remote archipelagos of South East Asia and Indonesia. Find out more about Scenic Cruises here.

Have a story you want to share? Email us at webtravel@reachplc.com

This shipping disaster has lived on through the decades, with remnants of the past still washing ashore now.

Along this stunning UK coastline, you will see crashing waves, white sand and towering cliffs. But if you are wandering along the beach and cast your eyes downward, you might spot something else.

Hidden in the sands of Cornwall’s coastline is a reminder of an ecological disaster that occurred 29 years ago. On February 13, 1997, a German container ship was sailing off the coast of Land’s End in Cornwall when it was hit by an enormous rogue wave.

The wave caused the vessel to lurch, and 62 containers plunged into the ocean.

One of these containers contained 4.8 million Lego pieces. Ironically, the majority of them had an ocean theme.

These scattered pieces then floated in ocean currents for years before eventually washing up on coastlines across the UK, Ireland and the Netherlands. Some even reached as far as Australia.

Environmental impact

Since the pieces are manufactured from the hardy acrylonitrile butadiene styrene (ABS) plastic, they resist degradation and chemical breakdown, and a 2020 study suggested the bricks could last in the ocean and on beaches for 1,300 years.

Even as they begin to degrade, they will shed microplastics which are consumed by sea life and marine birds.

In response to the spill, Lego company officials released a finders keepers statement telling people they were free to keep any pieces they discovered, though they should give them a thorough wash first.

The firm also set up a hotline so people could report where they collected them and the company could offer assistance with any clean-up efforts.

The Cornish coast is referred to as ‘Lego Beach’ by those familiar with it, and people devote hours to hunting for the miniature plastic toys.

What was on board?

The Lego pieces that washed overboard are now sought after by beachcombers, with enthusiasts on the hunt for the ultimate prize from the disaster — the octopus piece.

Other items such as flippers, scuba tanks and swords are spotted more frequently, but the octopuses are highly coveted given that only 4,200 of them were on board the stricken vessel, making them considerably harder to come across.

According to the BBC, there were several different kinds of Lego on board. These range from the most common through to ones that are so rare they have never been found on the beach.

Lego pieces you might find

• Flippers: one of the most common, with over 352,000 pairs in black, blue and red
• Life jackets: 26,000 bright yellow life jacket figurines were scattered
• Scuba tanks, flowers and brooms: also a common find
• Octopus: one of the hardest to find and most prized Lego figures — only 4,200 on board
• Green dragons: there were 33,427 black dragons inside the shipping container but only 514 green dragons

What figures have never been found?

• 97,000 magic wands
• 15,800 witches’ hats
• 18,200 frying pans

Swimming ashore from the boat I can see a narrow shingle beach covered in driftwood. There are logs, bamboo canes and the sundried planks of an old shipwreck. The steep climb up the hill behind is not easy. I skirt thick clumps of thorn and abandoned ancient olive trees, scrambling over jagged outcrops of limestone. Every time I curl my fingers into a rocky niche I think about snakes. The only residents, however, are spiders. Their webs are strung between the trees, and so thick and strong that I grab a stick to slash through them. No one has been here for a long time.

Near the hilltop I stumble on a ruined stone building. Who lived here, I wonder? And where have they gone? A few steps further and the land abruptly ends in a vertical white cliff that plummets into an improbably blue sea. Far away, in the haze, there is a stack of Ionian islands and one of them, I know, must be Ithaca.

At that moment I feel footsteps running across my forehead and let out an involuntary scream. An arachnid Achilles has come to take revenge. I leap up, arms flailing. The eight-legged hero heads for the underworld of my left armpit.

In the original epic tales of human adventure, the action starts in the middle of the story, a rule first identified by the Roman poet Horace. At that central moment our protagonist is in a terrible state: probably lost at sea, often naked, and always alone. We want to know: how did things get to this nadir, and where will they go now? It’s a pattern repeated over and over. Take, for example, that ancient classic The Bourne Identity, a 2002 film starring Matt Damon, who appears in the opening sequences floating in the Med like a stunned octopus. He doesn’t even know who he is, but with the hospitality of strangers and cathartic bouts of extreme violence, he inches towards his happy place.

Now Matt gets to do it all again, in a pleated skirt and bronze helmet, appearing as Odysseus in Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey, a $250m blockbuster due for release on 17 July in the UK and US and starring almost every deity in the Hollywood heavens. Go back to the literary Odysseus, however (with Emily Wilson’s brilliant recent translation), and he is much more than a Hollywood action hero. This home-loving husband is also a pathological liar, serial philanderer, murderer, carpenter and, most famously, a traveller. And like all travellers, sitting around the campfire at some later date with listeners agog, he is forced to confront the thorny problem of how to convey the full visceral impact of what happened on his journey and hold his audience. Traditionally, there are two options: the full truth, or the fuller truth.

Back on the clifftop, tickled to death by Achilles, I dive into the improbably blue sea only to find that my assailant has become a six-headed monster that’s dragging me towards a giant whirlpool. And I’ve lost my glasses.

I had come a few days earlier to the Greek mainland and set sail for Ithaca. This is actually easier than it might seem. First, track down a friend with the correct sailing credentials (or get them yourself at the Royal Yachting Association), then gather a crew and search out a boat. Alternatively, pay the extra and hire a skipper. We sailed with Neilson Holidays, which has a mainland base near Palairos on the Ionian Sea. Depending on experience and qualifications, you can either follow a flotilla or go it alone. We arrive and find our boat, Cafard, which my multilingual skipper friend, Fabian, translates as Depressed Cockroach. I wonder if it’s a misspelling of Cavafy (Constantine P), the Greek poet who wrote:

When you set out for Ithaca
Ask that your way be long,
Full of adventure, full of instruction

We stock up and set sail. Adventure and instruction is our hope. My wife, Sophie, has never sailed before and is scoffing seasickness tablets faster than Odysseus’s men gobbled down the sun god’s cattle, and that did not end well. Can we discover a Homeric sense of wonder and novelty on our voyage to Ithaca? And report back truthfully?

Despite the yacht name, the beginning is auspicious. Leaving Palairos we sail into a pod of dolphins, swarming around the bows, close enough to make eye contact. That night is spent on Kalamos, a steep-sided wooded island with a tiny port. In the taverna, cats stretch out under chairs where old men are making a glass of ouzo stretch out too. There is talk of a crashed military drone found by fishermen in a sea cave north of here. The engine was still running and there were 100kg of explosives on board. Is this story also getting stretched a little, I wonder? Or is it connected to the presence of unfriendly Russians on some islands, hiding behind warning signs for savage dogs? Odysseus would not like that. He was fine-tuned to any abuse of hospitality, and perhaps a tad oversensitive when it came to other men flirting with his wife.

The next morning we sail out, stopping at Porto Leone, a village on Kalamos abandoned after the 1953 earthquake. The plan is to stop again at the island of Atokos, where wild pigs reputedly swim off the beach, but the wind picks up and we are properly smashing through the waves. Fabian is loving it. Sophie, amazed not to feel seasick, is letting out shrieks of joy.

We head for Kioni on Ithaca, little more than a scattering of old houses around an exquisite harbour. In August, I’m told, the berths are all taken before lunchtime. The waterfront is a lovely mix: a corner shop that stocks everything, a top-notch bakery, tavernas and some swish boutiques all tied together with colourful plumes of bougainvillaea. In one arty studio, a yachtie with auburn hair and a regal manner is demanding the price of a swordfish sculpture.

“It’s €15,000,” purrs the assistant.

Not everything is so pricey: we find that a good dinner with wine can be had for less than €25 each.

The next day, I walk some of the island’s footpaths, a network that badly needs a strimmer. In the town of Stavros, the tiny museum holds an astonishing array of Homeric treasure that was found in a nearby cave: a second-century BC shard of pottery bearing the inscription “pray to Odysseus” and several pieces of bronze tripod cauldron dated to the ninth century BC. In local minds these are some of the Phaeacian gifts mentioned in The Odyssey.

A mile further up the trail, at a site known as the School of Homer, are the ruins of what may have been a palace – sufficient evidence for locals to build a model in Stavros town square and confidently identify the bedroom of Odysseus. Listen closely and you can almost hear him: “Honestly Penelope, they both bewitched me. I was a sex slave. I couldn’t wait to get home.” The tradition of Odyssean tall tale-telling is in robust good health.

In the highly recommended Margarita Cafe there is another fine tradition on display: cakes. The local speciality is rovani, a delicious spicy concoction served with ice-cream.

Our voyage takes in Kefalonia and the noisy mainland port of Sivota, but the highlight comes with that lonely anchorage off the mysterious island of Meganisi. Parts of the Ionian coast are undergoing a building boom – glass and concrete palaces spreading across the hillsides like a nasty rash. But here we find tranquillity: snorkelling through shoals of fish, exploring vast sea caves and raising a toast to that magnificent poet Homer, and the inspiration he has given to so many for almost three millennia. After a week on the water, we sail back to Palairos. We have all had a great time, even the nervous first-time mariner. I leave with vivid memories, not least that desperate underwater struggle with the deadly spider woman who stole my glasses.

The trip was provided by Neilson Holidays: a seven-day South Ionian flotilla cruise from £595pp (for four adults) including flights from Gatwick; skippered boat from £1,145pp. Travel to London was provided by LNER and accommodation for a trip to the British Museum’s Ancient Greece section by Radisson Blu Bloomsbury

As technology becomes more and more advanced and accessible to people, cruise ships have to put rules in place to make sure passengers are safe, and their privacy is protected

People are being warned that they could be fined or kicked off a cruise ship they’re a passenger on for wearing 1 luxury item when onboard. Several cruise companies have introduced a number of new rules in 2026 to ensure the safety of passengers travelling on board.

As technology continues to advance and people snap up the latest gadgets, cruise operators are keeping their policies up to date to safeguard holidaymakers and protect their privacy while travelling at sea. Whether you’re sailing with Disney, Virgin, P&O or Fred. Olsen., each cruise liner has their own set of rules that could land passengers in trouble.

Don and Heidi, a couple who have clocked up 100 cruises between them, regularly share updates and handy tips on TikTok, and have been keeping a close watch on shifting cruise policies over recent months.

With the rise of people wearing smart glasses, such as the very popular Meta Glasses, cruise ships have been forced to take steps to protect their passenger’s privacy when they’re traveling on cruise liners.

Don said: “Cruise lines are instituting new policies and in 2026, these behaviours will get you fined, banned, or removed from the ship entirely.

“One, recording other passengers without their consent using technology like Meta Glasses is a serious violation of privacy policies and fellow cruisers are reporting it.”

One of the cruise companies who has banned the items is Royal Caribbean who quietly updated its prohibited items list to tighten onboard safety and cybersecurity.

Recently, Royal Caribbean updated the verbiage on its prohibited items list to read: “‘Smart’ glasses from any of several manufacturers that can record video and audio are not allowed to be used in certain areas onboard the ship, including, but not limited to, public restrooms, Youth Program areas, medical areas, as well as the casino.”

Royal Carrabian’s app confirmed that if a guest fails to abide by the policy, the chief security officer and captain are authorized to confiscate the smart glasses.

Don continued: “Two, flying a drone from the ship is banned on nearly every cruise line. Get caught launching one and you’ll be escorted off at the next port.

“Three, fights on cruise ships are all over the news and lines are done looking the other way. Passengers involved in physical altercations are now being banned from certain cruise lines for life.

“Four, getting caught with prohibited items in checked luggage and you get escorted to a security meeting. Try to bring something more serious on board and you could be handed over to authorities at the next port.

“Five, this isn’t optional. It’s international maritime law. Skip the muster drill and crew will track you down to complete it. Refuse entirely and you’ll be removed from the ship before a set sail.

“Six, lighting up on your balcony, in your cabin, or anywhere else outside the designated smoking areas can get you fined and repeat violations can get you escorted off the ship.

“This includes vaping. Don’t forget to share this one with your cruise mates for your next sailing.”

Several cruise lines have introduced new passenger rules in 2026 – and if these are broken, passengers could be fined, removed or even handed a lifetime ban from the ship

Several cruise companies have introduced a raft of new rules in 2026 to ensure the safety of passengers travelling on board — but those who break them could find themselves thrown off the ship. As technology continues to advance and people snap up the latest gadgets, cruise operators are keeping their policies up to date to safeguard holidaymakers and protect their privacy while travelling at sea.

There is a comprehensive list of regulations that passengers must adhere to when sailing with cruise operators including Disney, Virgin, P&O and Fred. Olsen. Should any of these rules be breached, travellers could face a formal warning, a financial penalty, or even be removed from the vessel and handed a lifetime ban.

Don and Heidi, a couple who have clocked up 100 cruises between them, regularly share updates and handy tips on TikTok, and have been keeping a close watch on shifting cruise policies over recent months.

Don said: “Cruise lines are instituting new policies and in 2026, these behaviours will get you fined, banned, or removed from the ship entirely.

“One, recording other passengers without their consent using technology like Meta Glasses is a serious violation of privacy policies and fellow cruisers are reporting it.

“Two, flying a drone from the ship is banned on nearly every cruise line. Get caught launching one and you’ll be escorted off at the next port.

“Three, fights on cruise ships are all over the news and lines are done looking the other way. Passengers involved in physical altercations are now being banned from certain cruise lines for life.”

The couple behind the video also used the chance to explain what happens when passengers break three longstanding cruise ship regulations – smoking violations, missing the muster drill, and attempting to smuggle prohibited items aboard.

Don said: “Four, getting caught with prohibited items in checked luggage and you get escorted to a security meeting. Try to bring something more serious on board and you could be handed over to authorities at the next port.

“Five, this isn’t optional. It’s international maritime law. Skip the muster drill and crew will track you down to complete it. Refuse entirely and you’ll be removed from the ship before a set sail.

“Six, lighting up on your balcony, in your cabin, or anywhere else outside the designated smoking areas can get you fined and repeat violations can get you escorted off the ship.

“This includes vaping. Don’t forget to share this one with your cruise mates for your next sailing.”