The Cruise - Part 16

The Cruise – Part 16

Post script for Monday, 12th May.

John and Josephine Perry, distinguished members of the Dinghy Cruising Association, visited both Al's boat and mine late in the evening at the anchorage behind Plymouth Yacht Haven and we had an enjoyable time discussing things, mainly boats, as you can imagine.

Tuesday, 13th May

This was a day of total relaxation for me. I wanted to spend most of it ashore exploring the old haunts of Plymouth I knew when I was a lad. I started by taking the boat to Saint Anne's Battery Yacht Marina, but they would not give me a berth because all visitors were being cleared out in preparation for the Mini Tansat boats. As I was next to Sutton Harbour where the Artemis Transat boats had been berthed I called them on the VHF, but they also said there was no room for visitors. My only option was to return to Plymouth Yacht Haven and find a berth there. I was in urgent need of a shower and I wanted the facilities of a marina – water and electric.

When I had sorted myself and the boat I took the ferry to the Barbican and started my exploration by looking at the Mayflower Steps from which the Pilgrim Fathers departed for Newfoundland; I think their ship the 'Mayflower' set sail in 1620, or thereabouts. Then I explored the Hoe where the old Smeaton lighthouse stands and old cast iron canons face seawards.

The day was sunny, but very windy – too windy for sailing to Fowey, the intended next port of call. The panoramic view over The Sound brought back memories of when, at the age of 14, I sailed a small canvas canoe there while on holiday. I took the canoe I had built by train from Taunton and initially kept it in the corridor of my uncle Charles's house, but when the local sailing club saw me with the canoe they let me have one of their haul out moorings free of charge. Back in 1948 little thought was given to safety equipment, things like life jackets or internal buoyancy for boats and I wonder how I survived, because I didn't wear a life jacket or have buoyancy bags in my canoe. Incredibly the tiny boat had two foresails, a mainsail, a small keel, a plank across the cockpit for sitting out and an extension tiller for the rudder. I was inspired by Uffa Fox, that inventive sailor and designer who lived on the Isle of Wight and who used to cruise open sailing canoes across the Channel to France and back.

I treated myself to a meal at a pub and further explored the Barbican where there are excellent examples of genuine Tudor houses. I also visited the National Aquarium which was a bit of a let down; on the other hand there were some beautiful fish and shells on display. Before returning to the boat I enjoyed a real Devonshire ice cream mixed with cream.

That evening Al and I had a very long walk along the coastal path to Staddon Point, very high above The Sound. From there the view was stunning. We could see the River Tamar beyond Drake's Island, the River Plym, the Breakwater and beyond to Rame Head. A large group of canoeists where heading towards Mount Batten and they looked like tiny water beetles.

Wednesday 14th May

It was still a little too windy for sailing, but Al and I decided to go anyway as it would be downwind trip. At the western end of the Breakwater the seas were breaking and the ride was bumpy. A warship was heading into port, but we were well clear of her. Another navy vessel was out at sea on a firing exercise. By 0915 we were rounding Rame Head and a large yacht overhauled us. We had to be vigilant and take care with the steering to avoid gybing. In the first part of the passage to Loe Island our average spead was 5.6 knots with the tide helping us.

Running close to the Udder Rock buoy the seas became a bit tricky because of the shallows. At 1300 we rounded Punch Cross Rocks to enter Fowey Harbour; there the wind failed because of lee caused by the high land of Polruan. I started the engine and towed 'Little Jim' towards the Town Jetty, but only a cable form it the engine stopped for some unknown reason. By using our yulohs we reached a nearby buoy and rafted alongside one another for a cup of tea. Later the engine started with no problem and we tied up at the Jetty for a short walk through the Town.

Next we went up the River to find a quiet anchorage at Wiseman's Reach. Not long afterwards the Harbour Master's Assistant came to collect the dues, but he was called away for urgent business which may have been in connection with the arrival of a ship for a cargo of China clay. On the instructions of the Harbour Master's Assistant we tied up to mooring buoys to eliminate any possibility of dragging our anchors.

That evening there was a heavy downpour of rain with thunder and lightning.

Thursday 15th May

When I woke it was still raining and the bucket containing the anchor and warp that I had left on the stern deck was one third full of water! Because the wind was still from the east the opportunity of sailing to Falmouth could not be wasted; therefore, although it was raining, Al and I elected to go. I started the engine at 0800 and took 'Little Jim' in tow. By 0950 we were off Gribbin Head, on which there is a very visible day mark that looks like a gigantic barber's pole striped in red and white. Here we made sail with the wind and tide pushing us towards Dodman Point which is a very formidable headland towering above the waves. The race that runs to the south has brought about fatal tragedies, the most notable when a tripper boat from Falmouth was overwhelmed and all aboard were lost.

As our little boats kept a mile and half south of the Headland to avoid the race, the waves built up and we reduced sail, because the wind also increased in strength. Two yachts were approaching the headland, both motor sailing because they were going against the wind and the tide. We set a new course for a point south of St. Anthony Head, eight and a half miles away. Steering directly downwind required concentration, because the seas were doing their best to fling our boats too and fro and as the wave crests were breaking, we both closed our hatches to be secure and dry below. We communicated now and again by VHF on channel 8 - one of the four official ship to ship channels for the UK.

We made a very fast passage, arriving at St. Anthony Head at 1240, where we gybed to starboard to reach into Falmouth Roads; then on the wind we proceeded towards the picturesque village of St. Mawes. Using the engine we rounded Amsterdam Point at the entrance of the Percuil River and anchored in a delightful cove named St. Antony, which was surrounded by woodland. Pity the sun was absent, but the place still had great charm; a heron stood at the water's edge and there was a welcome peace, away form the cold east wind.

Later in the afternoon we rafted alongside and enthusiastically compared our boats in detail; there were slight differences with the sails and yulohs; mostly they were identical, apart from their colour. We also discussed a sailing plan for the next morning when we might opt for the challenge of rounding the Lizard Headland while attempting to reach Newlyn – a good starting point for a crossing to the Scilly Isles. We wonder if the easterlies will hold, because the weather pattern is slowly changing.

Friday 16th May

With the prospect of a 35 mile passage around the Lizard to Newlyn we took up our anchors at St. Anthony and motored out to sea, but there was very little wind; therefore we continued using the engine with 'Little Jim' in tow. Unknown to us we were to continue thus until arriving at the fishing port of Newlyn.

At 0835 we arrived at The Manacles which is an off-lying reef 9 miles south of Falmouth Harbour entrance. We had passed idyllic Porthallow nestling in a natural cleft within the high coastline. Because there was calm weather we took the inshore passage around the Lizard which gave us a superb view of the off-lying rocks. Running down the coast we ticked off salient marks such as the Black Head, Kennack Cove and Cadgwith, the latter identified by a church tower.

Rounding Lizard Point was painless, but a close inspection of the rocks that resemble the spiky spine of a primitive lizard it was plain to see that getting it wrong could be very painful indeed!

Drizzle towards the end of the passage had us down below with the hatches closed. As we approached Newlyn several fishing vessels overhauled us and showed us the way in. Just before 1630 we tied up to the first pontoon for smaller boats and we were greeted by the Harbour Master who at first wanted us to move our boats further into the harbour to leave room for fishing vessels, but he changed his mind and said we could stay where we were if we rafted alongside. His assistant only charged for one boat. The assistant and another port employee were very interested in our boats. They told us that the Town Council were considering allowing planning permission for a smart marina just down the coast.

Saturday 17th May

With a good forecast for the passage to the Scillies we set off at 0610. Once outside the harbour we picked up a fine northerly wind that had us racing along to Tater-du light and the Runnel Stone. That part of the coast is all rather fine with high granite cliffs. Many fishing and crab boats were about their business. The Runnel Stone south of Land's End marked the beginning of the crossing of 27 miles to St. Marys at the Isles of Scilly. Beam reaching all the way gave us a very fast trip. The 'Scillonian' passenger and freight vessel on her outward leg to the Islands reported us to Falmoth Coastguard who asked us to let them know when we arrived at our destination.

Entry through St. Mary's Sound was against the flood which meant our speed dropped from 5 knots to 2, and the final approach from the craggy Peninnis Head to sandy Porthressa Bay was on the wind, so I put the engine on for both boats to make it easy. There in clear water we chose a bottom free of weed for setting our anchors.. Totally protected from the northerly wind we rafted alongside and discussed the passage. The time was 1420 and only a few cumulus clouds hovered above the Islands. We resolved to let the boats dry out on the beach to allow us ashore for the evening.

The Cruise - Part 15

The Cruise – Part 15

Saturday 10th May

I had a really peaceful sleep last night with boat tucked in behind Plymouth Yacht Haven and I woke to a gorgeous morning, there being just a gentle wind from the east. When breakfast was finished I beached the boat to take a postcard to the mail box and to dispose of my rubbish, then I used the yuloh to move the boat to a nearby pontoon where there was access to a fuel bay, but I discovered that the Yacht Haven only sold diesel. Petrol was not crucial, as I had a full can of 5 litres which would last for quite a while.

The day couldn't be wasted; therefore I decided to have a sail for the joy of it, with no particular destination. What a fabulous time I had! When clear of the Mount Batten Pier I hardened in the sheet and made for the western end of the breakwater. Speed to windward was on average 3.5 knots and the boat consistently sailed herself. A German Auxilliary, A 1412, armed to the teeth lay on our course and temporarily she took our wind. A quarter of a mile further along we came very near the lighthouse that marks the end of the pier and slightly ahead to starboard was the picturesque seaside town of Cawsands with its golden sandy beach. The cliffs nearby are cloaked with trees that overhang the low granite shoreline.

The Channel tide lee-bowed 'Faith' which eliminated any leeway. With nothing in our path I simply relaxed and let the boat look after herself. When about 2 miles out to sea I counted 43 yachts sailing their various courses; several of them were racing - colourful too, with their spinnakers and cruising shoots. Undoubtedly, the sailing was the best of the cruise so far. When approximately 6 miles offshore I tacked to port to lay a course to the east of The Great Mewstone.

When well to the north east of the River Yealm I brought the boat round onto a run for the return passage, but on the way while on the starboard tack a crossing yacht on the port tack failed to give way, and I had to alter course to avoid a collision. I made sure the skipper of the other yacht, by the name of 'Anodyne' knew he had infringed the rule for which he apologized,

Back in The Sound I anchored near the north side of Drake's Island where there was a lee and after a snooze I set sail for Millbrook Lake to the north of Mount Edgcumbe where I anchored in 6 feet of water, and there I spent the night.

Sunday 11th May

This was the day I had been waiting for, and it more than lived up to my expectations. To begin with there was very little wind, so I started the engine and headed through The Bridge. There were a few other yachts on the water, but there was no indication that there would be anything special. I and hundreds, if not thousands knew the Artemis Transat yachts would be leaving Sutton Marina for the start of their single-hand race across the Atlantic, with the start at 1400.

By 0950 'Faith' was anchored off Cawsand beach along with many others who had already arrived. As yesterday, it was sun hat weather and there was a festive atmosphere with the local sailing and rowing clubs on the water testing their skills at racing.

Throughout the morning more and more yachts anchored in any available space they could find, and beyond Plymouth Breakwater surrounding the start line there were thousands of yachts sailing or motoring. Tripper boats full of spectators, motor yachts, dingies and even canoes criss-crossed tracks while taking photos of the competitors' yachts. One or two of them tried making trial starts, but it was an impossible situation. Helicopters hovered overhead, presumably filming the event. At the eastern end of the line one of Her Majesty's vessels was the platform for the start line flagstaff and at the western end there was a large black inflatable buoy advertising Artemis.

I joined the many vessels gilling around the line to take photos and I succeeded with some crackers which I'll make available on the Internet when my cruise is finished. I anticipated incorrectly that the majority of the racing yachts would exit by the western entrance, but instead they made a leg through the eastern passage which meant I did not have a close-up view of them racing. Nevertheless, the whole thing was a spectacle, the likes of which I have never seen before. As I was so engaged with watching the event I didn't realize the ebb had taken 'Faith' as far as Rame Head, and the wind fell light, which meant a slow sail back to Cawsands where I anchored for tea. There I encountered a problem with the bolt fixing the mainsheet tang which had worked loose, so that it fell out. I was grateful the mishap happened when the boat was at anchor.

I could not mend the fitting, because I needed epoxy which I did not have in my tool kt; therefore I started the engine and motored to the peaceful anchorage by Plymouth Yacht Haven where I stayed last Friday night. This was a convenient spot because it was near the slipway at Mountbatten where Al plans to launch his Paradox on Monday.

Monday 12th May

My priority was to link with Al Law when he launched his Paradox, 'Little Jim'; therefore mid-morning I took up the anchor and motored to the large public slipway at Mount Batten where I anchored to await his arrival. The boat needed a thorough clean on the inside and this was the opportunity to do it. As I finished the task Al arrived and I pulled alongside the slipway to anchor the boat in shallow water so that I could wade ashore and give a hand.

The launching was a painless affair and by 1315 we were anchored alongside one another back at the Plymouth Marina backwater that I felt was becoming my territory.

We had lunch and around 1500 we set out to beach our boats so that we could go in Al's car to John Perry's place where the trailer was to be stored. Unfortunately my anchor was caught under a cable; therefore Al went ahead to buy some petrol and deliver the trailer. A half-an-hour later I managed to free the anchor by contriving a hook from a pair of pliers attached to a piece of rope which I used to lift the cable and drop the anchor at the same time to drag it free.

I beached the boat and took the ferry to Plymouth for shopping and to post this blog. Al and I will probably spend tomorrow in the area before setting off westwards the next day.

The Cruise - Part 14

The Cruise – Part 14

Wednesday 7thMay

I spent the morning at Plymouth doing shopping and catching up on my emails. The clothing store 'Next' were having a sale where there was a bargain for a pair of jeans which I bought and my other needs were satisfied at Tesco.

Before shopping I spent a while looking at the Artemis Transit yachts in the basin at Sutton Harbour Marina. They are like enormous racing dinghies with lids to provide a modicum of protection for their single-handed crews. The smaller 40 foot class didn't seem to have the same prestige as the 60 footers, as they were mostly placed in positions well away from where the public could view them.

The start of the Race will be at 1400 on Sunday 11th May, but competing boats will start leaving the Marina from 1000. It will take that amount of time to sort everything out. I am hoping to sail to Cawsands to watch the competing boats set off. That will depend on the weather and John Perry with his partner Josephine, longstanding and well known DCA members, have planned to meet me there in their much travelled 'Grey Boat'.

Back at the boat I was pleasantly surprised to be presented with a bottle of Valentia white wine by the Berthing Master of the Queen Anne's Battery Marina. Apparently, a gift of wine is always given to skippers of a visiting yachts that have 'come from far'. For the record he took a photo of me and 'Faith'.

Bookings for a berth at the Marina always run until mid-day from whatever time a yacht arrived the previous day; therefore I set off for the River Yealm. As the wind was on the nose I used the engine which gave me time to look at things, one of which was the three-masted ship 'Kaskelot', registered at Bristol. She was anchored to the south of Mount Batten where her crew were busy at various maintenance jobs. She certainly looked resplendent and I thought perhaps there may be a tall ship gathering, as another sailing ship was in Sutton Harbour Marina.

I had planned the trip to the River Yealm with the ebb tide taking us as far as the Mewstone where the last of the east flowing current would not be too strong for us to enter the River. Two yachts were anchored outside the bar, awaiting sufficient water, but since 'Faith' only draws 9 inches that was not a problem. I discovered there were 8 feet of water in the passage and the new flood tide helped us on our way. Initially the River has a narrow steep-sided rocky entrance which, as one proceeds, gives way to a softer skyline of rolling wooded hills and beyond Warren Point northwards it opens up to an area of protected open water where there are several moorings, one of which I picked up. I was not there for long before the quiet-spoken and welcoming Harbour Master arrived for harbour dues. Besides the beauty and peace of the place, nearby there are toilets, showers and drinking water at the Newton Ferrers Jetty.

The Yealm is a haven for wildlife; besides the many birds which include heron, egrets, shags and oystercatchers the guide book tells of bass, Atlantic salmon, and sea trout. Shortly after arriving I was fascinated with fish swimming under 'Faith' and occasionally they purposefully slapped themselves against her bottom. I have never observed such behaviour before. The area has been designated as a site of special scientific interest and it is a coastal preservation area. Species such as pipe fish, seahorses, and rare sea slugs inhabit the water.

Thursday 8th May

I woke to a gorgeous morning warmed by the early sunshine peeping over the trees. Now and again gusts sweeping down the valleys blew 'Faith' sideways to the current. In response my DCA pennant rattled its staff as it vigorously snaked its tail in the wind. Here I was in a world of my own with time to spare and nothing to do but enjoy the gifts provided by God. I just lazed away the morning while admiring the views and soaking up the sun – at last a spot of real cruising.

To while away the time before sailing for Plymouth I reinforced the repair of the hole in my jeans and I felt satisfied with my achievement – not as pretty as my wife would have done it, but passable.

It became so hot that I changed into my shorts! Little did I know that by the evening there would be a cold front bringing heavy rain. Somehow I missed that in the weather forecast. I also took the opportunity of the sunshine to scrub the topsides and along the waterline. 'Faith' was looking resplendent. Passersby in their yachts waved with delight.

Just before I was due to sail I observed a man wearing an apron who was carefully dropping what appeared to be sacks of a heavy material into the river near the bank. I can only assume he was preparing a base for a jetty and he was doing it 2 hours before low water so that he could place the sacks precisely where he wanted them.

By 1330 we were moving fast under reefed sail towards the Great Mewstone. With a fresh easterly wind we bowled along, and within half-an-hour we were passing the Shagstone, complete with half a dozen shags, and ahead lay the eastern end of Plymouth breakwater. In the lee of Ramscliff Point the wind became fluky, so I started the engine to combat the ebb from the Sound. When a steady wind was found again I cut the engine and shortened sail even more, because it was becoming boisterous.

Instead of passing through the Bridge on the southwestern side of Drake's Island as before, I chose the big ship channel to the north of the island. Here there were half a dozen dinghy sailors under instruction and two River Boats moving swiftly with their passengers, one on her outward trip and the other on her homeward leg. The SD 'Penryn', a navy catamaran slowed down when overtaking us – even so, her wake was quite considerable causing 'Faith' to violently rock from side to side.

Having dropped the anchor in 6 feet of water close to the wooded shore of Mount Edgecomgbe on the northwestern side leading to Millbrook Lake, I took a snooze for an hour and when I woke it was raining. After I finished the evening meal the boat was disturbed by the movement of tugs escorting the destroyer D96 to Devonport Docks. By then the rain was very heavy and a fully crewed yacht was towed to a buoy astern of 'Faith'. I guess they had problems perhaps with an uncooperative engine as the wind had fallen light.

Friday 9th May

By morning the rain had gone, leaving grey clouds which blotted out the sun, but after washing myself and having a shave my spirits were not dampened. I needed to explore Turnchapel and the slipway where Al proposes to launch his Paradox, 'Little Jim' on Monday. I discovered there are two slipways at Mount Batten which is an extension of Turnchapel - most probably Al will use the wider of the two.

When I left Millbrook Lake there was no wind, and it was an hour before high water. Had I not the use of an engine my exploration of the eastern end of Plymouth Harbour could not have taken place. Indeed, without the engine this cruise would not have been possible. While we proceeded along the waterfront a fellow in a safety boat came alongside to satisfy his curiosity regarding 'Faith'; he had seen her sailing he day before. He told me he was an instructor for the Royal Navy Sailing Centre at Millbay Dock and the dinghies I had seen sailing near Drake's Island were the ones he supervised.

Plymouth Yacht Haven is situated in a natural cove at Turnchapel where, when I was a teenager, an elderly friend and I used to anchor his yacht. To my mind the delightful village and surroundings have been ruined, just as other beautiful places have been blighted by those wanting to make a fortune out of yachtsmen – The Bag at Salcombe is a notable example.

While en route for Mount Batten the huge Brittany Ferries ship arrived at Mill Bay Dock and a submarine was being towed by tugs towards Devonport Docks. there's always something happening on the water – never a dull moment.

I found a landing place with a gentle sloping beach right next to the Marina at Turnchapel and beached the boat at half tide. That gave me time to search for petrol, which proved abortive and to take the ferry to the Barbican for shopping, Internet access and a shower.

The Cruise - Part 13

The Cruise – Part 13

Saturday 3rd May

Still at the Public Slipway in Balsam Creek, Salcombe - definitely a day for staying in port because it was far too windy, although from the right direction for Plymouth. I took the opportunity for cleaning the boat inside and out; then I discovered I could access the Internet via a Hotspot at Blue Water Cafe. That was a relief because of the difficulty I had since my last success at Brixham at the Yacht Club.

A yachtsman who owned 'Cassie' a Westerly Centaur, engaged me in general chat which lasted nearly an hour. He was helpful by giving me local information such as where to buy petrol and find Internet access.

As I suspected, I was asked to move the boat because the rules clearly signposted spelled out that the pontoon was for short stay by attended boats. I took the opportunity to tie up alongside the fuel barge for a meager 5 litres of petrol, then I explored the upper reaches of the River where I found 'Patsy Rye'. Nigel informed me he would be at the floating pontoon in The Bag. Later I joined him and several other yachts, and in the afternoon we enjoyed a circuitous walk to Balsam Creek and back to the hole through the hedge to the beach where we had left his dinghy.

Sunday 4th May

The big day arrived for sailing to Plymouth, but what a shock was in store at the Bar; the ebb was moving fast against a large swell, causing dangerous breaking waves. I steered 'Faith' well port in deep water, but even there we bobbed up and over the waves with the engine purring away. I was relieved to get to out to sea where the wave height diminished, but the swell remained. When well clear of the fearsome Bolt Head I set a course towards the Mewstone off the River Yealm. By 1025 we were adjacent to Burgh Island and with the ebb running in our favour we were doing 3.6 knots without much wind. The sun broke through the gloom to transform the day, to the extent that I shed my layers of sweaters. I saw my first swallow of the year heading for the coast, presumably after crossing The Channel. Six wonderful gannets with their large wingspan flew in formation like the Red Arrows buzzing the boat. The smell of the air was indescribably pure and fresh – the likes that can only be found at sea after crossing an ocean.

By mid-day there was a good force 3 pushing us relentlessly towards Plymouth. There were a few boats in Bigbury Bay, one of which was an old, classic vessel painted in black and yellow once used by the Navy for general use. I could hear her rhythmic engine from miles away.

Arriving at the eastern end of Plymouth Breakwater I could see many yachts on that Bank Holiday Weekend. An enormous white passenger ship entered the western entrance and she was followed by a purposeful looking frigate that anchored in The Sound. I took the opportunity of smooth water for topping up the outboard tank. The incoming tide swept us through The Bridge (a narrow opening between a submarine barrier) south west of Drakes Island towards the narrows by the Cremyll Ferry slipway. The usual swirling agitated waters of the Hamoaze south of Devonport had us changing course.

I was fascinated with the Navy vessels at the Dockyards; there were Frigates, a Pilot boat, three tugs, three large Auxiliaries, a submarine and twelve moored ammunition carriers.

With the flooding tide pushing us up the River Tamar we were doing a good four knots with hardly any wind. Nowadays there are countess numbers of yachts on moorings and I used them as signposts to show me the way to Cargreen and beyond. From there on, the River is beautiful being lined with trees and fields for grazing cattle or sheep. The light drizzle didn't diminish the view, in fact the opposite by providing atmosphere.

At 1750 I tied 'Faith' to the Calstock Town Foating Jetty, and there I spent a very uncomfortable night because the boat settled at an angle on the sloping mud.

Monday 5th May

Most of the day was spent with my friend Geoff who lives in Calstock. Late afternoon I took the boat along the narrow winding river to Morwellham and the views are quite stunning. For a section of the River there's a cliff on the starboard hand when going upstream and at other parts the wooded hills rise steeply and there's such a profusion of trees of many types with their various colourings. Now and again nestled between the trees and fields there are granite cottages by the old industrial town of Morwellham there are remains of building associated with tin and copper mining. A few very tall but deformed chimneys look like religious totems; on had the top split as if it had been struck by lightning.

I anchored 'Faith' in mid stream with hope that I might have a quiet night's sleep.

Tuesday 6th May

Had a really good night – didn't even hear the boat turn on her anchor at the flood. I had no concerns except for a tiny black snail that had found its way to the foredeck. As I didn't want a superfluous crew I determined to set the tiny thing free on one of the branches floating on the water and sure enough one obliged. Once securely aboard nature's raft the wind obligingly carried my unwanted friend to the river bank.

For some unknown reason the engine was not in the mood to continue after starting and therefore I changed the spark plug and all was well. For the first time there was a high pressure system giving a blue sky and much appreciated sunshine. The verdant countryside was at its best. At this part of the River Tamar the beauty is outstanding; there are rolling hills covered with an abundant variety of trees and here and there are hedged fields in which sheep and cattle graze. Birds for ever entertain; a graceful swan, black-headed ducks alighting and skiing in to halt with their feet spread out, moorhens pecking reeds, pigeons darting from the overhanging trees, geese honking to keep intruders away and crows passing the time of day with their raucous call.

At Devonport Dockyard there was a hive of activity; tugs chugging here and everywhere, the Police launch speeding along, men dressed in overalls on the deck of the dilapidated submarine 'HMS Tireless' and sailors aboard Frigate 321 the 'Argyll'.

I berthed alongside the visitor's pontoon at Mayflower Marina, but it was hopeless there because of the continuous waves caused by the washes of passing vessels. I next motored along Plymouth seafront to the Barbican where I gained permission to enter Queen Anne's Battery Marina, and here I leave you here as I take a late afternoon stroll into Plymouth in search of a MacDonald's to post this blog.

The Cruise - Part 12

The Cruise – Part 12

Monday 28th April

A swan flew in and landed by the boat on the dot at 0630. He swam near the boat, looked at me and guessed correctly that tidbits were unlikely when he took to the air again.

Just after seven I was at the Esso petrol station for 5 litres of unleaded, but finding the place was difficult because the people I asked had different ideas as to where it was!

Back at the boat, Lee, the Brixham Yacht Club Bosun, hailed me for his dinghy and by 0830 'Faith' was underway. The south westerly wind quickly took us to Berry Head where there was a fisherman bobbing and reeling in mackerel. Around the headland the wind was fine on the starboard bow and the ebb tide pushed 'Faith' to windward at a good 3.5 knots, but at the Mewstone the tide turned and the picture was quite different. The wind freshened to force 5 which caused the tops of the waves to break and we began to loose ground. I started the engine and powerd into the wind; sometimes wave tops swept the deck and crashed into the cabin front, but I was dry, warm and secure below. I observed 'Patsy Rye' close inshore under the cliffs motor-sailing. She quickly sped ahead while I pressed on for an hour before tacking towards Dartmouth.

Having cut the engine and tacked, 'Faith' sailed well between the troughs, and the breakers had little effect. Soon we were able to bear off towards the port red can buoy near the entrance between the castles. Reaching against the ebb from the River Dart was truly exciting, but in the narrow entrance the wind faded and became fluky. I could not make the engine start, and it was later that I discovered it had run out of fuel. A friendly chap in an open launch towed 'Faith' to Warfield Creek where I picked up a mooring and sorted the boat out while having a coffee.

Mid afternoon I motored up the River past the twin car ferries which are floating platforms shunted by miniature tugs. The public ferry swished ahead of 'Faith' and I was dismayed that the pontoon normally provided by the Dartmouth Yacht Club was not set in place. Finding a pontoon where I could moor was almost impossible, but the Yacht Taxi man showed me one.

After I had secured the boat I took the Yacht Taxi to the Town Quay so that I could do my shopping. While I was away the Taxi man filled my water tank. He returned me to my boat and shortly afterwards the Harbour Master's assistant collected dues; he also told me where I could moor so that I could walk ashore.

In the evening I visited Dartmouth Yacht club for a shower and to use their Hotspot, but I was unsuccessful in accessing the Internet.

Tuesday 29th April

There was time for an early morning walk to the nearest public toilet before the rain belted down causing a drumming sound on the Polycarbonate window in the hatch. Breakfast was therefore a leisurely affair with porridge, bacon, egg and marmalade on wholemeal bread helped down with tea and coffee.
A cold front was responsible for the rain and a sudden drop in temperature which had me back in my sleeping bag to keep warm. The morning went surprisingly quickly as I dozed and read alternately until lunch, after which the sun made and appearance inviting me to explore the walk to the Coast Guard Cottages high up on the cliff overlooking the bay to Start Point. There I observed the effect of the south easterly wind on the sea and I was glad not to be out sailing. I watched a motor yacht as it moved slowly to round the Mewstone, presumably on its way to Brixham against the ebbing tide. The boat plunged and rolled and I felt sorry for the crew who may have been sick with the violent motion.

Back at the waterfront I saw a Falmouth oyster boat and spoke to her lone crew who was delivering her from Guernsey to Mylor where she will pass into new ownership and for the purpose she was originally built. Those old working boats being gaff rig with long bowsprits and having straight stems are so easy to control under sail because of the versatility of the rig. The mainsail can be triced and the peak dropped while the staysail can be backed to control the speed and course for dredging.

The weather pattern is such that 'Faith' is unlikely to sail from Dartmouth until Friday - most likely for Salcombe.

Wednesday 30th April

As I suspected, the weather does not allow us to move on because of the possibility of a force 8 wind from the south west. Early in the morning I took the lower ferry to Kingswear to test the Hotspot known as Blackspot which is a pay system, but I could not complete the transaction owing to a technicality with PayPal. Even had I been successful I would not have been able to continue using the laptop because I was outside sitting on a pavement when the rain came down.

I returned to Dartmouth and did some shopping before walking back to the boat. Rain continued until mid-day when showers alternated with sunshine, but the wind was very cold from the north. I observed the movements of the ex-Brixham sailing trawler named 'Provident'; she's a fine looking wooden ketch with a distinctive varnished doghouse amidships. During the night she had been moored to the public pontoon and when the ferry needed to use the pontoon she anchored by number 6 buoy out of the fairway in the designated area. Later she re-anchored just above the Upper Ferry where I had seen her before.

With this sort of unsettled weather punctuated with showers and rain there is not a great deal one can do other than tog up well and enjoy a walk or explore the town.

Thursday 1st May

Early this morning the wind would have been right on the nose had I set off with a forecast of 4 to 5 south westerly, backing south. 'Faith' could have made it to Salcombe, via a waypoint outside the Start Pt. race, at the cost of being heeled at around 30 to 40 degrees and only making 2.5 knots with a lot of movement as she bobbed over the waves. Instead, I preferred to wait until tomorrow when the wind may be less strong and perhaps it may have some easting in it. Besides, I wanted to visit the launderette in Market Street to freshen my dirty clothes. In fact, I brought far too many clothes for the cruise, several of which I'm convinced I shall not use, but because of their weight they help trim 'Faith' by keeping her to her planned waterline.

The fresh morning wind brought large dark colds with the potential for making heavy showers, which made me take my waterproofs in my knapsack. At the launderette there was an elderly lady who could not understand how to operate the washing machines and dryers, therefore she asked me for assistance. Because all the controls were digital I was able to explain how they worked.

Back at the boat a gentleman named David whom I met earlier and who lives aboard a Golden Hind class yacht came to see my boat. He was amazed that I had sailed her from Burnham-on-Crouch. He explained that he was 78 and because of his age-related physical limitations he could not sail the boat to her potential, but if he chose to sail when there were fair winds he could manage. The name of his boat is 'Hesperus' and he mentioned that relatives call him The Wreck of the Hesperus.

I forgot to say that I was woken around the time of the early morning forecast by loud chanting which came from the direction of the Britannia Royal Naval College located at the top of a hill on the west side of the River Dart. As I habitually walked to the nearby toilets I saw many naval officer cadets running along the road – a few were having a really hard time, because they were overweight. Some of these trainee naval officers were young women, unlike when I sailed these same waters in 1950 when I was a teenager. Then, all of the trainees were men who had to undergo rigorous training on the water, including rowing whalers and sailing.

By lunch time the weather was distinctly better with long periods of sunshine. I was taken with the smart appearance of the steam train that runs from Kingswear to Paignton – the carriages are painted in brown and cream reminiscent of the era at the end of the war in 1945. This vision of the past trundled along the eastern river bank leaving a trail of white smoke while blowing a high pitched whistle. There was a lot more movement on the water than of late with several large yachts going to sea. Claude made the decision to set off early towards Falmouth - Mylor being his objective, where he hopes to exchange his boat for cash.

I took the opportunity of an afternoon without rain to retrace my steps of the other day to Dartmouth Castle and to the Coast Guard Cottages; this time I was inspired to walk further along the coastal path for an excellent view of Start Point. There were white crests to the waves, but nowhere near as large as on Tuesday when they willfully crashed on the rocks by the Castle.

At 2005 I was surprised to see 'Patsy Rye' tie up to the pontoon where 'Faith' was moored. Nigel told me he had lost his dinghy at sea while en route for Salcombe and that a fisherman had retrieved it. He learned this from the Coast Guard and discovered that it had been taken to the dinghy pontoon at Dartmouth.

I had another surprise when Joe and Jane who own The Canvas Factory shop at Dartmouth called by in their dinghy. Last year they had been sailing their Falmouth Quay Punt on the River Crouch when they took a couple of photos of 'Faith' and they were intrigued to find her on the Dart where they live aboard their yacht.

Friday 2nd May

Apart from the fact that the wind was from due south everything else was fine; therefore I made a start at 0750. A bright day and an ebbing tide from the Dart with the engine running and a scrap of sail to keep the boat steady we made rapid progress seaward. In the entrance and for a couple of miles the waves were fairly steep and 'Faith' bobbed her way towards a waypoint outside Start Point race. A large yellow cabin cruiser quickly overhauled us on her way to the Skerries Bank for some rod fishing. Our course, directly into the wind, lay a little to the west of the Skerries Bank Buoy.

By 1000 Start Point Lighthouse bore 270 degrees, just over 2 miles away. after another mile and a half we changed course for a point a quarter of a mile to the south east of Prawle Point. The engine was off and it was fine sailing in a force 3. As we drew near to the rocky outcrop of Prawle Point the Coast Guard Station was clearly visible with what appeared to be a red ensign flying at the flagstaff. The radar antenna was rotating, but I could not see anyone; nevertheless it was comforting to believe a duty officer was observing our progress.

While following the coastline I was intrigued with the natural hues of the rock face – greys, greens and yellow ocher. The scenery was stunning. To the west the craggy outline of Bolt Head resembled a giant lizard, similar to those that inhabit a particular island of the Galapagos archipelago. A large ketch followed 'Faith' along the leading line north to Sandhill Point where we changed course to the north east for the fairway. Salcombe was looking her best; to port there were brightly painted houses and a smart hotel and to starboard there were golden sandy beaches between outcrops of rock. Ahead were the moorings where we turned to port to find a place to stay. I started the engine and rolled up the sail. Baston Creek looked promising and sure enough I found a space at the pontoon by the public slipway.

I discovered that a the toilets were nearby and the road following the creek led to the Town Centre.

When I tidied and secured the boat I walked to the Town Jetty to see if 'Nancy Rye' had arrived. There she was motoring in and Nigel smartly picked up a mooring buoy. I could not gain his attention and on my way back to the boat I bought a few more provisions and a needle and thread to mend the knees of my jeans which were ripped.

I'm hoping I'll be able to stay moored to the slipway pontoon for a quiet night.

The Cruise - Part 11

The Cruise – Part 11

Thursday 24th April

Unexpectedly I was invited to spend last night with my brother and his wife at their home in Sydling St. Nicholas, and what a change it was to sleep on a bed that didn't move! When I woke this morning and looked at the clouds rushing across the sky I was grateful not be at sea. There had been a band of heavy rain which had passed to reveal a beautiful spring morning - just right for a health-giving walk along country lanes where the blossoming trees proclaimed, “This is Spring at last.” In a fast flowing brook of clear water a trout darted from the cover of waving emerald weeds to hide under a stone until we had passed. Two male mallards clothed with pristine feathers of iridescent rainbow hues accompanied a dowdy mottled brown female swimming with the current to evade us until they conceived the danger was too great causing them to take to flight. Robins, wrens, blackbirds and crows spoke to one another of their territories in tuneful note, but with serious intent.

Back at my brother's home we had coffee in the warmth of the conservatory overlooking gorgeous rolling hills, characteristic of this part of Dorset. The flint built cottages with thatched roofs blend so naturally into their rural setting of farmsteads where cattle and sheep graze in leaf-fringed paddocks. It's and area of great wealth where only the privileged either by money or inheritance can live – a bastion of political and historical conservatism – the homeland of Thomas Hardy who invented Wessex for the settings of his scandalous and often sad novels.

Back at 'Faith' in the afternoon there were a succession of visitor who were interested in the little boat that by all accounts had sailed around the world! Some maintained she had circumnavigated Great Britain, but I countered these wild stories by maintaining she had sailed around the moon. Several visitors even took photos of me and the boat – fame at last. One local sailor when I told him of my problem with the outboard took me to Bussells Chandlery in Hope Street, because he said his friend Bill the owner would be able to sort out what was wrong. He was so bored he left his shop to diagnose the fault which turned out to me! I was not pulling the starting cord in the right way – that's first to find a compression load, then smartly pull the cord.

Friday 25th April

To take advantage of the tide and not be sucked into the Portland Race the best time for rounding the southern most tip of the savage peninsular is 4 hours after high water at Portland itself – that's when sailing from east to west. By adjusting the the speed of the boat we arrived at the crucial location exactly on time, i.e., 1400. The current was still running south against the wind which caused steep, but short waves and one of them knocked the outboard so that it was no longer low enough to provide full thrust which made getting out of the rough water to the west where there was almost flat water an anxious period.

The southerly breeze of force 2 or 3 was almost ideal for a course of 278 degrees true and within an hour we were nearly 6 miles from the Portland's hazards. Sailing south along the eastern side of the peninsular can be quite daunting; not only does the functional stone structure of the enormous ex naval harbour cause one to shudder, but the rocky and boulder strewn shore with the remains of a wrecked motor launch speaks terror. The nerves quiver as the speed of the tide increases while to seaward the race can clearly be seen. It's always a relief to be well clear of the notorious hazard.

An hour later the white lighthouse was barely visible astern through the gloomy haze, and there below it a tiny speck of tan brown which was the mainsail of 'Patsy Rye'. She had made it safely too.

The 33 mile passage across Lyme Bay was almost uneventful. The Portland firing range was not being used and apart from Nigel's lovely gaff cutter I only saw one other vessel, a fishing boat of some sort. Never had I crossed the Bay so quickly before, as on this occasion I used the engine to boost the speed which meant we arrived at the East Exe Bell Buoy about 2130. The navigation into the River Exe was made relatively easy by using the Lowrance GPS; nevertheless the adrenaline ran high because some of the buoys are unlit and the last long stretch is sailed on a bearing to white flashing lights at the entrance to the Marina. On the port hand there are sand banks, but it was high water and by the time I entered the Marina under the open drawbridge there was little movement of water.

Nigel was there to take my lines and help secure my treasure.

Saturday 26th April

What a lovely surprise there was for me shortly after I had eaten breakfast, for there was Al Law who had come to spend the day with me. We reminisced and explored parts of Exmouth by foot, including a coffee cafe and an ice cream vendor. I asked a young couple if there was a MacDonald's and they replied it was a couple of miles out of town on the Budleigh Salterton Road which was for my informants far too far to walk. My question was of little use because the battery of my laptop computer was low and by the time Ii was fully charged it was too late to visit MacDonald's.

I had a second free night at Exmouth Marina by courtesy of the Harbour Master.

Sunday 27th April

At 0700 I took the opportunity to motor the boat to a waiting pontoon on the Warren side of the River Exe. There was very little wind and it was peaceful as the birds made their early morning calls; I heard skylarks, crows and a pheasant!

By 1045 'Faith' was rounding Warren Point over Pole Sand in a depth of 10 feet. A light wind was from dead ahead; to starboard there were a few people walking along the beautiful golden sandy beach of The Warren and ahead lay the pretty seaside town of Dawlish with a road rising gradually up the hillside and colourful buildings in hues of white, yellow, blue and pink.

I motor-sailed the boat inshore, then tacked offshore before making a direct course towards Hope's Nose in the distance around which we needed to go before entering Torbay. As we sailed between the rocky Ore Stone and the headland of Hope's Nose the wind piped up and I shortened sail. To port a jaunty trawler was a work and ahead a large yacht was beating towards Berry Head. I deliberately headed westwards in the diretion of Paignton to avoid being adversely affected by the ebbing tide. The wind almost faded away when I changed course for Brixham. A group of people in an inflatable boat were trying to kite-sail a board. They were learners and there really wasn't enough wind to keep them moving fast enough.

'Faith' arrived at the pontoon of the Brixham Yacht Club at 1615 and I was greeted by Lee, the Bosun of the Club, who kindly let me have his rubber dinghy, to be returned early on Monday morning when he starts work. He also gave me the WEP code for the Club's WIFI.

What will tomorrow bring? – maybe a sail to Dartmouth.

The Cruise - Part 10

'Sunday 19th April

The inshore forecast for Wight was North East 4 or 5, increasing 6 at times, particularly around headlands. With that knowledge I set off from Lymington at 0950 with the engine running, but just as 'Faith' left the inner harbour the engine failed, and it seemed like a case of petrol starvation. With no time to lose before the Yarmouth bound ferry would put to sea I made sail and could hold the wind until clear of the shallow water to leeward. When the depth sounder showed 20 feet I set a course for Hurst Point - just under two-and-a-half miles away. The flooding tide was against us, but our speed over the ground was a good two knots. Through the haze I could make out the white lighthouse and the gaunt concrete and metal structure of Hurst Cast;e which was a fortification commanding the western entrance to the Solent during the war. To the East I could hear the guns for the competitive racing yachts of the Royal Lymington Yacht Club.

To the South West of Lymington Spit I observed a peculiar vessel anchored in shallow water and as my course lay along that path I discovered she was the race officer's boat for the Lymington Town Sailing Club.

We arrived too early at Hurst Point as the flood tide was still making against the wind, but 'Faith' was able to maintain just over a knot. By keeping very close inshore we could keep clear of the race to our port. It was exciting sailing, as I had to steer accurately to make sure the the boat did not involuntary gybe. The North Head green starboard hand buoy, distant about a mile-and-a-half, was our objective; once there we would be clear of the infamous shallows known as the Shingles over which the water pours resulting in dangerous overflows. This has been the grave of many unwary sailors.

While making to the West we were overtaken by several very fast RIBS; I assumed their crews were just enjoying the fun of speeding over the tumbling waves, and what for them was playful enjoyment could have been hazardous for the crew of 'Faith'. The well-known silhouette of the white cliffs of the Needles and its lighthouse could be seen through the yellow haze to the South. Soon we would escape the clutches of the Solent that entraps sailors like the sirens of Odysseus. The wind increased as we headed for Christchurch Bay beyond Milford on Sea where I had been entertained by cousin and her husband three days earlier. It was good to be sailing again after being stuck in port because of the excepionally windy weather.

While en route for Poole Harbour I frequently fortified myself by snacking on Cadbury Dairy Milk Whole Nut Chocolate, Brazil nuts and dried fruit. When Hingistbuty Head that marks the entrance to Christchurch Harbour lay abeam to starboard I felt we were on our way. The objective was to find Poole Bar Fairway Buoy No 1 to the North East of the white cliffs of Handfast Point. The nearer we approached the Buoy the bigger became the swell and waves as they rolled over the shallows. By the time we were passing through the narrows of Poole Harbour's entrance the tide was rushing out which meant our speed was reduced to just one knot which did not help when it came to avoiding the chain ferry. Beyond that hazard the wind almost failed which caused 'Faith' to sail backwards and not wishing to be swept to the open sea I tried the engine, but to no avail. Instead I was forced to change course for the South Deep Channel to the west where there would be less current.

In actual fact it was a fortuitous choice, because the sail along the winding channel to Goathorn Point where I anchored was delightful because of its beauty; wooded Brownsea Island lay to tne North, the smaller Furzey Island to the North West and the tiny Green Island to the West. Furzey Island was somewhat scarred by the derrick of an oil well and because of that exploitation the island is visited frequently by various craft to supply it with necessary goods. An extraordinary powered raft-like structure with a high bridge deck on a platform is used for transporting heavy vehicles.

The anchorage was at first peaceful, but when nightfall came the wind increased and it became uncomfortable. I observed a white egret patiently fishing at the water's edge.

Monday 21st April

After a not too pleasant night when 'Faith' was tossed and rolled by the waves I awoke to hear yet again another dreadful weather forecast. I snuggled into the sleeping bag with a resolve not to surface until after 0800 when I would have a leisurely breakfast. Throughout the morning there was a grey blanket of cloud which produced constant rain or drizzle. This did not stop the oyster fishermen doing their work, nor the frequent vessels visiting Furzey Island, or the bright yellow tripper boat named 'Maid of Lakeland' from doing her usual round of the passages between the Islands.

Poole is certainly a major ferry port, because during the afternoon an enormous passenger catamaran resembling the shape of a gigantic shark without a dorsal fin, but with a gaping open mouth ready to swallow anything in its path, entered and left the harbour and shortly after a towering top heavy Brittany Ferry named 'Contention' carried out the same routine.


With the aim of having a restful night I took up the anchor so that I could motor the boat to Bood Alley Lake, a passage between the mudflats south of Brownsea Island, but the engine failed only after a few minutes, possibly due to fuel starvation. I made sail and cut across the shallow water east of Furzey Island with only three feet under the keel until the boat was as close I could take her to the beach where I anchored in five feet. There I removed the cover of the outboard to discover why the fuel supply failed, but I took shy of dissembling the carburetter in case I could not reassemble it or perhaps I may have made things worse. Having an unreliable engine is not bit of use. My Honda had become a temperamental machine willing only to work when it decided.

While eating my evening meal I observed two fishermen walking the mud bank searching for cockles. Later they came close with their open boat PE113 named 'Ivy' and I asked them about their work. They confirmed they were looking for cockles and if they could find them, mullet too.

People may wonder what you do alone on a boat all day long, but I can assure you life is never dull. There is always something entertaining going on and there are jobs that need attention, besides time for reading, listening to the radio and enjoying welcome relaxation.

Tuesday 22nd April

I woke to find a very pleasant morning with the sun shining and a gentle breeze from the north. At 0900 I started the engine and set off for Poole Harbour entrance where the chain ferry was crossing to Sandbanks on the eastern side. There were no cross channel ferries entering or leaving and I had it all to myself. Despite my rude remarks about the engine, for a change it was running perfectly, and it enabled me to plug the flooding tide to Handfast Point and beyond. The wind filled in from the south which meant I could motor/sail past Anvil Point way beyond the famous race which was a non-starter because 'Faith' arrived there just as the tide was turning to the west. It was necessary to hold a course of 230 to avoid the Lulworth Firing Range until beyond the two danger zone buoys east of the Race. I could hear the guns with their booming periodic thuds and there was no way I wanted to get caught out.

When we reached 30 degrees 8 minutes north I set a course to run westwards, but the wind slightly headed us which meant we clipped the edge of the Range, but I noticed several vessels inshore of me, one of which turned out to be 'Patsy Rye' with whom I have been sailing in company. She's a beautiful wooden classic Hillyard 4 tonner.

I smothered myself with suncream to protect my face and hands from the strong sunshine. Haze caused me to lose sight of land. The Lowrance GPS with its charts was extremely helpful for checking our progress. With the tide bowling us along we were doing a good 5 knots. Early in the afternoon the tide set southwards which meant I had to offset to starboard to arrive in a safe position just north of a direct course to Weymouth. One can easily be dragged south around Portland Bill into the frightening race that even big ships avoid.

We made steady progress and arrived at Weymouth where we tied up to a pontoon on the south side of the Harbour opposite the Harbour Office. A group of children showed an interest in 'Faith' and asked several sensible questions about her. As I ate my fish and chips bought only a hundred yards away, two gulls waited patiently within touching distance. I rewarded them with left overs and others tried to join them, but they were driven away.

What to do tomorrow remains to be seen. I could stay in Weymouth or try for Bridport, even Exmouth if conditions are right. Most importantly I have to check the tide for the best time to round the Bill which is a tricky bit of navigation. You have to get it right or you could get into big trouble in the Race. There's a choice – either inside it or outside. I prefer the inner passage because it saves a good many miles and time.

Wednesday 23rd April

With the prospect of strong westerlies I decided to stay put in Weymouth where it is very comfortable, although noisy because of the fishing and tripper boats. I made it a 'get everything clean day' including myself, the laundry and the boat. The town itself is fascinating with such a variety of architecture, the Royal Dorset Yacht Club being an example of ornate design featuring pseudo Gothic arched windows.

I had a chat with a helper on 'Spirit of Weymouth', a 60 Class yacht entering the Artemis Transat. Apparently there had been vandalism on the boat that discouraged the owner, whose surname is White, but his forename is lost from my memory.

Nigel Davidson moored his boat, 'Patsy Rye' on the same pontoon as 'Faith'. We both agreed it was not a day for making west. My intention is to relax and prepare for the next stage of my westward quest which could involve night sailing.

There may be several days before the next posting, as I may reach the River Exe where finding a Hotspot may not be possible, but there may be one at Exmouth.