Two rivers diverge at a yellow mark
After spending the winter warming his weary bones on the white sands of Majorca, Billy Blister found himself propping up the bar at the Butt & Oyster. He told himself he was waiting for the tide, but his plans extended no further than closing time. Anyhow, he casually turned over the mat on which stood his pint, and low and behold, a little rhyme hove into sight…
Shotley Spit is the great divide,
When approaching the yellow mark from the south, you really must decide.
Keep it to port and the fabled Orwell you will enter,
But best stow your sails, fire up the lump and steer right up the centre.
For the number of gleaming, always steaming, white yachts is often such,
That beating up to Pin Mill can be all too much.
Better leave that yellow mark to starboard and prepare for a special treat,
As the beauty of the Stour will simply knock you off your feet.
Sail away past Erwarton Bay and beyond Mistley (if you dare),
But rest assured your time on the Stour will leave you without a care.