Why Every Day on the River Teaches You Something New

One of the quiet joys of learning to sail on the River Thames is that no two days are ever quite the same.

The boat may be familiar.
The stretch of river may be one we’ve sailed dozens of times before.
But the river itself is always teaching.

Some days it’s obvious:
a stronger stream than expected, gusts funnelling through trees, or the challenge of sharing space with rowers, paddleboards, and launches. Other days the lessons are smaller and more personal – trimming the sail a fraction earlier, sitting a little further forward, or trusting the boat to keep moving instead of over-correcting.

As a sailor learning later in life, I’ve come to realise that progress isn’t about dramatic breakthroughs. It’s about noticing what felt different today compared with yesterday.
What worked.
What didn’t.
And what I might try next time.

That reflective habit has become as important as learning the technical skills themselves. Sailing rewards patience, observation, and a willingness to accept that you’re never really finished learning – especially on a river.

That’s why this blog exists.
Not to present myself as an expert, but to document the process honestly: the mistakes, the small wins, and the gradual building of confidence that comes from time on the water.

If you’re learning to sail, returning to it after a long break, or simply enjoy life on the river, you’re very welcome here.

👉 More sailing stories, tips, and river-specific lessons can be found at
https://pmrsailing.uk/

We also keep a daily blog of hints and tips, as well as adventures.

Fog on the Thames

Fog on the River Thames has a particular character.
It can arrive quietly, lift just enough to tempt you out, and then close in again without much warning. The water looks calm, the world feels hushed – and that can make fog deceptively inviting.

But fog is one of the few conditions where not sailing is often the most sensible decision.

What fog changes on a river

On open water, fog reduces visibility. On a river, it removes context.

You don’t just lose sight of other boats – you lose sight of:

• Bends in the river

• Overhanging trees and moored boats

• Rowing crews moving fast and silently

• Safety boats that may also be struggling to see you

Sound travels oddly in fog, and engines can seem closer or further away than they really are. A calm-looking river can still have a strong stream carrying you into trouble before you realise it.

Visibility isn’t just “can I see?”

A helpful rule of thumb on the Thames is simple:
If you cannot clearly see and identify hazards well ahead of you, you shouldn’t be sailing. Fog also usually equals no wind, and in that, you shouldn't be sailing.

That’s not just about spotting another boat. It’s about being able to recognise what you’re seeing early enough to make a calm, controlled decision.

If you’re relying on last-second reactions, you’re already too late.

Cold, damp, and concentration

Fog is usually accompanied by cold, damp air. Hands get stiff. Glasses mist up. Decision-making slows.
For less experienced sailors – or anyone sailing later in life – this combination increases risk far more than wind strength alone ever does.

When fog might be acceptable

There are rare occasions when controlled activity in light mist can be reasonable:

• Very light traffic

• Excellent local knowledge

• Safety boats in close attendance

• Clear club guidance and agreed limits

Even then, it’s usually a training exercise with strict boundaries, not a casual sail.

The best seamanship choice

Good seamanship isn’t about bravado.
It’s about judgment.

Choosing not to sail in fog isn’t “missing an opportunity” – it’s practising exactly the kind of decision-making that keeps you safe for many seasons to come.

With Fog, there is usually little wind, and little wind in any conditions means sailing is difficult.

Fog will lift.
The river will still be there.