The Golden Hinde sleepover in London: Night Voyage

The year is 1577. Queen Elizabeth is on the throne – and the Spanish could invade at any moment. Only the valiant English navy, led by Sir Francis Drake, can protect the country. Our Golden Hinde sleepover had begun, and within minutes of getting on board, we were transported from the 21st century London quayside to a very different world.

review visit*

When I told my daughter about the sleepover on the Golden Hinde in London, a replica of the ship that Drake sailed around the world in, the thought of sleeping on a ship sent her almost dizzy with excitement for weeks beforehand.

Even as an adult (and one wondering slightly dubiously about sleeping on a deck in a sleeping bag), it’s one of the most fun things to do in London for families. The Golden Hinde Night Voyage experience, as it’s properly known, currently runs once a month on a Saturday night but unlike some of the museum overnight experiences, it seems a bit less well-known – so if you’re looking for unusual things to do in London with kids, it’s perfect. Here’s why…

What happens during a sleepover on the Golden Hinde?

Waiting on the dockside for one of the ship’s crew to let us through the glass barrier and on board, I couldn’t help thinking how small the Golden Hinde was.

Originally called the Pelican (knowledge you might well need for later on!), she was the only ship to succeed in circumnavigating the world, from the small fleet which set off from Plymouth.

And when she first set sail, there was a full crew of 80 on board. We were only 23, plus four members of the crew – the master, the barber-surgeon, the gunner and our cook – and it felt like we comfortably filled the ship. Our first taste of the realities of Tudor life had begun…

Dressed for the experience in a shirt, coloured sash and very fetching hat, we headed up on deck to be taken back in time. First, a quick lesson in shipboard discipline – and round-eyed incredulous horror at some of the punishments for everything from theft to blasphemy, which usually involved a part of the body being nailed to the mast.

Fortunately the crew didn’t need to resort to those measures while we were on board: even with a group of chatty, excitable small children, they’d obviously had a lot of experience in keeping everything under control and seemed to have a good grasp of which mini sailors could be teased as part of the performance, and which were shyer.

Having practised saying ‘pah!’ in disgust to the Spanish (and anything remotely foreign, for that matter), it was time to split into two groups to learn about life on board.

Meet the barber surgeon

There’s nothing like a short lesson in medieval medicine to leave you feeling very glad that doctors these days don’t bleed you according to your star sign when you’re ill.

Before the barber surgeon chatted about slightly stomach-churning theories which passed for medical wisdom in the 16th century, waving around jars of black bile, phlegm and blood, and suggesting powdered criminal brain as another treatment, we got down to the serious business of why your birthday was so important.

Because it’s not simply about letting the blood, we discovered – ‘we’re not barbarians,’ scoffed the barber-surgeon – but knowing which part of the body to let it from. With my summer birthday, I came off relatively well, as I’d have been bled from my stomach.

Well… it beats having knives waved around by your neck. And if you’re a Scorpio? Well, imagine the one part of your body that men really REALLY wouldn’t want someone cutting into and that’s what they got. You’d be well advised to lie about your birthday, frankly.

Minnie wasn’t sure whether to giggle or be shocked, getting so caught up in the story that she was being singled out as barber-surgeon apprentice material by the time we had to move on.

Meet the Master and go on deck

After our enjoyably gruesome start, it was time to relax – up in the master’s cabin, over hard tack and grog. Well, biscuits and apple juice.

We’d barely sat down before the flamboyant master of our ship had welcomed one of our group as ‘Bob’, who had saved his life in a tale of great derring do – a shaggy dog story which involved bear baiting, unlikely escapades and a lot of laughter.

It set the scene for the rest of our introductions… especially for the mums and daughters on board. Because needless to say, women weren’t allowed to set foot on board ship, so introducing ourselves as Minnie and Cathy would have given us away.

As we passed around the table telling our life stories, the characters steadily became more and more outrageous.

Although not quite as outrageous as some of the real life facts we discovered. If you’ve ever wondered where the insult ‘toerag’ comes from, you can thank Tudor sailors and their insalubrious toilet habits.

The word derives, we found out, from ‘towed rag’ – towed behind the boat by the Tudor ‘toilet’ after being used by the crew that is. I leave the rest to your appalled imagination.

Fortunately as ‘officers’ we were told we would have had our own personal rag rather than having to share. Phew, eh?

Looking at the coil of rope with its regularly spaced knots to tell the ship’s speed – and the reason we still measure the speed in knots today – also went into my personal stash of trivia. But we couldn’t sit around quaffing apple juice all night, there was work to be done.

The anchor to raise and lower for starters, which took our whole group heaving on wooden spars as we walked round in circles, remembering to duck (mostly) under the low light.

And then on deck to get our bearings. Or at least for most people to get their bearings. It took me about one minute to get my larboard and starboard confused, shamefully being the first out of the game.

At least I wasn’t sent high up the mast to be lookout above the poop deck – and no, it wasn’t called the crow’s nest in Tudor times. If you’ve ever wondered why it’s called the poop deck, that’s not what you’re thinking either…

Dinner time: Tudor-style

By this point, we’d all earned our veggie stew which had been simmering away in a slow cooker since we came on board – accompanied by some equally non-Tudor tiger bread, which got scoffed by those small sailors who didn’t fancy the main course.

I had seconds! And unlike the original sailors, who’d have been chewing on hard tack, battling scurvy, living on pickled and preserved foods and picking weevils out of who knows what, I think we came off pretty well.

You can bring snacks as well, and if you or your kids have allergies, it’s recommended that you bring your own food for the evening too.

Meet the Gunner

With the ever-present threat of Spanish pirates (we were privateers, which is – obviously – entirely different), it was time to learn how to defend the ship. And time to roll out the cannon.

Lesson one: they’re not called cannon!

Lesson two… a lot of things aren’t what you think, as our poker-faced master gunner demonstrated, firing off questions where the answer wasn’t what we expected. I couldn’t help laughing as we all fell into his trap, over and over again.

The weapon our miniature crew got their hands onto was a minion, and they learned how to get it primed to fire and rolled into position. My daughter, now starting to get sleepy, roused herself enough to shout the commands which would have everyone scurrying to safety after taking aim on the enemy.

It was a perfect last activity, getting the kids moving around, all fascinated by the different steps to get the weapon armed before testing themselves against the clock. Not bad for a first attempt, although it’s probably a good thing we weren’t really under attack.

The Spanish are coming!

Except… we were! The Spanish had boarded. What to do, what to do?

We cowered bravely behind a barrel…

In fact, the crew take a decision on the night whether to let the kids take on the enemy or not with a bit of (foam) swordplay on deck. During our visit, it had been raining heavily so the deck was slick, and some of the younger kids (mine included) were getting evidently tired by this point.

So this time, we left it to the master. Well, this is why he gets the nice cabin, right? Fortunately he managed to repel them single-handed.

Time for bed

Which just left bed. Families and groups settled down in their own sections of the deck, and I gave thanks for non-Tudor bathrooms with a sink and enough room to get changed. 

Lights were off by 10pm, and while I had a headtorch and a good book handy, I was ready for sleep myself.

A shame that hammocks wouldn’t be introduced for another 20 years… but at least we weren’t on prickly straw mattresses or sleeping directly on the wooden planks under a dirty blanket with livestock at the other end, rats scuttling around and a maximum of four hours sleep per shift.

Exploring the ship once more in the early light next morning, as London slowly came to life, was a great way to finish. The skies were blue over the Thames, Minnie got to take the conn, positioning herself behind a wheel almost too big to see over, as well as checking both ends of the ship for any more pirates.

Technically we’d been returned to the present day just before bed (along with a distinctly modern fire drill) but the magic of life aboard a Tudor galley stayed with us until we set foot back on the stones of the dock just before 9am… and thanked our luck in living in modern times, with conveniences like full strength espresso at Caffe Nero on hand, and hot water at home.

Is the Golden Hinde sleepover worth it?

It’s easily one of the most fun experiences I’ve had in London with my daughter – the crew do a brilliant job of drawing everyone into the story, keeping everyone’s attention and managing to share the quirkiest, yuckiest and funniest parts of life in Tudor times. Exactly what this age group loves.

It’s fantastically interactive – they’re constantly reacting to the group, always bringing different kids (and parents) in to play a part, never apparently fazed by even the most outlandish made-up life histories.

And if slightly worn-out 40-somethings may be glad there’s Sunday to recover, for Minnie, being able to curl up in her sleeping bag inside a ship was a highlight.

Golden Hinde sleepover: What to expect

What does the Golden Hinde Night Voyage cost?

Tickets for a sleepover on the Golden Hinde cost £45, for adults and children and it has to be booked in advance.

What age is Golden Hinde sleepover for?

It’s aimed at kids aged from six to 11 – younger ones can also take part, but between the relatively late night and scrambling around steep ladder-like stairs, it’s better for primary school age.

How long does the Golden Hinde sleepover last?

The evening starts at 5pm, once the ship is closed to visitors for the day, and finishes at 9am the following morning – during that time, you’re the only people on the boat, much to the envy of a couple of passers-by who spotted us early on the Sunday morning.

Is the Golden Hinde sleepover safe?

It feels very safe. A member of the crew stays onboard overnight for added security and there’s a firmly locked glass barrier between the quayside and the ship. You sleep inside the ship as well.

While the steps on board are steep, you do get a lesson in going up and down them to start, and our experience was adapted to take slippery floors into account after the rain.

What do I need for a sleepover on the Golden Hinde?

You need to bring your own sleeping bag and any pillows, bedrolls or mats. Space is limited, so we were asked not to bring too many bags or inflatable mattresses (although having said that, my husband came straight from getting off a flight and there were no problems tucking his suitcase away in a corner).

You sleep on one of the inner decks – usually the gun deck, but there’s also limited space on the deck below near the toilets, which we discovered the next morning was quieter and a bit warmer. My tip, try to snaffle that first. And bring a pillow…

There are two toilets with space to change, but no showers, so basic toiletries are fine.

It’s worth bringing earplugs too! People leaving the pubs on the banks nearby can be noisy – and sound obviously carries through the wooden ship – plus there are church bells, and the sound of the recycling bins being emptied the next morning.

Don’t be put off by this: it’s all part of the experience, although I wouldn’t count on having a great night’s sleep.

It’s also worth bringing extra blankets and bedsocks. We were unlucky that our May visit was one of the coldest nights for weeks but even in midsummer, there are small openings in the side of the deck, so there’ll be a breeze at least.

My daughter wore her thermal base layers from our trip to Lapland and announced she’d been toasty warm: I did a lot of cuddling up to steal that warmth.

What is there to eat during the Golden Hinde sleepover?

You are provided with two meals. Dinner – a vegetarian stew with bread – and breakfast – bread, cheese and fruit – are included, as is coffee, tea and hot chocolate.

There’s also a Caffe Nero right next to the ship, in case you need an extra shot of espresso the following morning (I did). You can also bring your own snacks.

What else do I need to know about the Golden Hinde sleepover?

The Golden Hinde Night Watch needs a minimum of 20 people to run, so if enough tickets aren’t sold they either reschedule for another date or you get a refund.

There are also other events on board, including occasional overnight experiences for adults plus you can book it for private parties if you fancy a version with cocktails…

The Golden Hinde is at St Mary Overie Dock on the south bank of the Thames near Southwark Cathedral – don’t get it confused with the Golden Hind in Brixham, Devon!

It’s walking distance from London Bridge tube, but you can also walk across the river over London Bridge from Monument station and get a view of the Thames, including the Shard, the Gherkin and the Walkie Talkie buildings, as well as the Monument itself (perfect for kids who’ve been studying the Great Fire of London).

PIN FOR LATER: THE GOLDEN HINDE SLEEPOVER IN LONDON

Disclosure: My family’s tickets were courtesy of the Golden Hinde for the purposes of review. All opinions and inability to go more than 12 hours without espresso are my own.

Images copyright MummyTravels

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