Gareth Higgins

Having seen Dad off for his taxi to Newquay airport, Su Yin, Tomas and I got the boat ready for off. Though we got some lovely sailing weather across Falmouth Bay, eventually the wind shifted into an uphill slog under engine, though the weather and scenery was beautiful. Going back over the coast that we had seen made the journey feel long, essentially a delivery trip. We got into Mousehole (pronounced ‘Mowzle’). I hope there are no ‘azzles’ in ‘mowzle’, I thought to myself. Having dropped the anchor just outside the harbour entrance, it was quite late and we were lucky to get a delicious meal at The Mousehole Deli, which is essentially the first restaurant you see coming from the North Pier. After dinner, however, we had to drag the dinghy over the mud to the harbour entrance in the dark as the tide had gone out. We had the anchorage essentially to ourselves, sharing with only 1 other French boat, which was gone by the time we got up the next morning. The anchorage was quite rolly, though having seen the huge oak staves that they use to block the entrance to the harbour in winter, I dread to think what it is like in a blow. We did a run ashore in the early morning to fill 3 water cans, but the only tap was all the way up the south pier, at the public toilets, and you needed a special square key to turn on the tap (or a adjustable wrenchif you had one). Fortunately there were 2 friendly locals setting up a kids fair for later on who lent us the tools that we needed. We had beautiful weather for our journey to Scilly, but since the wind, though strong was completely against us (20kn W), there was little point in raising a sail, we motored the whole way. Once we got to Lands End the seas became very lumpy, with a large oceanic swell, so poor Su Yin took to the bed with ‘mal de mer’. Once again, there was some attention required to safely pass the TSS (Traffic Separation Scheme) with lots of big tankers passing, in addition to the ‘Scillonian’, the passenger/cargo ship that is the lifeblood of the Isles of Scilly. There were also lots of helicopters passing overhead, bringing the wealthier tourists to the archipelago. As we approached our intended anchorage in St Martins Bay, off the east coast of the island of St Martin I began to lose my nerve as I saw the maze of rocks I had to negotiate to get inside. In addition, given the huge swell, it didn’t seem possible that there would be adequate shelter in the anchorage. In the end, I decided to duck in to see, and once past all the rocks, which were thankfully all mostly visible as it was low water, we found a stunning anchorage with lovely calm water. It was relatively crowded with French boats but there was still plenty of room to swing. Anchor down, we relaxed for the afternoon after which we went ashore for a swim at the pristine sandy beach with beautiful clear water. After our swim we went for a hike to air dry and found ourselves at the one of the most quirky and cool bars ever, the Seven Stones. We stayed for a couple of pints and a great meal and Tomas even found some kids from the campsite to play with. As usual we had to drag the dinghy quite a distance when we got back but we had a restful night despite some overnight swell.

Having seen Dad off for his taxi to Newquay airport, Su Yin, Tomas and I got the boat ready for off. Though we got some lovely sailing weather across Falmouth Bay, eventually the wind shifted into an uphill slog under engine, though the weather and scenery was beautiful. Going back over the coast that we had seen made the journey feel long, essentially a delivery trip. We got into Mousehole (pronounced ‘Mowzle’). I hope there are no ‘azzles’ in ‘mowzle’, I thought to myself. Having dropped the anchor just outside the harbour entrance, it was quite late and we were lucky to get a delicious meal at The Mousehole Deli, which is essentially the first restaurant you see coming from the North Pier. After dinner, however, we had to drag the dinghy over the mud to the harbour entrance in the dark as the tide had gone out. We had the anchorage essentially to ourselves, sharing with only 1 other French boat, which was gone by the time we got up the next morning. The anchorage was quite rolly, though having seen the huge oak staves that they use to block the entrance to the harbour in winter, I dread to think what it is like in a blow. We did a run ashore in the early morning to fill 3 water cans, but the only tap was all the way up the south pier, at the public toilets, and you needed a special square key to turn on the tap (or a adjustable wrenchif you had one). Fortunately there were 2 friendly locals setting up a kids fair for later on who lent us the tools that we needed. We had beautiful weather for our journey to Scilly, but since the wind, though strong was completely against us (20kn W), there was little point in raising a sail, we motored the whole way. Once we got to Lands End the seas became very lumpy, with a large oceanic swell, so poor Su Yin took to the bed with ‘mal de mer’. Once again, there was some attention required to safely pass the TSS (Traffic Separation Scheme) with lots of big tankers passing, in addition to the ‘Scillonian’, the passenger/cargo ship that is the lifeblood of the Isles of Scilly. There were also lots of helicopters passing overhead, bringing the wealthier tourists to the archipelago. As we approached our intended anchorage in St Martins Bay, off the east coast of the island of St Martin I began to lose my nerve as I saw the maze of rocks I had to negotiate to get inside. In addition, given the huge swell, it didn’t seem possible that there would be adequate shelter in the anchorage. In the end, I decided to duck in to see, and once past all the rocks, which were thankfully all mostly visible as it was low water, we found a stunning anchorage with lovely calm water. It was relatively crowded with French boats but there was still plenty of room to swing. Anchor down, we relaxed for the afternoon after which we went ashore for a swim at the pristine sandy beach with beautiful clear water. After our swim we went for a hike to air dry and found ourselves at the one of the most quirky and cool bars ever, the Seven Stones. We stayed for a couple of pints and a great meal and Tomas even found some kids from the campsite to play with. As usual we had to drag the dinghy quite a distance when we got back but we had a restful night despite some overnight swell.

It was with some reluctance that we pulled up the anchor in Helford River the next morning as it was so peaceful. We had a light wind on our quarter, and beautiful flat water,allowing us to try out our asymmetrical spinnaker crossing Falmouth Bay. The only hazards were the frequent lobster pots, som e of which had 3 buoys together in a line, increasing further the danger of entanglement. After a very pleasant sail we rounded Dodman and then Gribbin Head, with its distinctive red and white striped beacon. Fowey (pronounced Foy) is a very quaint river estuary with regular ferries across to the equally picturesque Polruan on the other side of the river. On our left as we entered the harbour we noted a very Italian looking grand house on the cliff near a beach. This was Point Neptune, which was formerly owned by the actress Dawn French, until she sold it recently for £6.6 million. There are public moorings (blue, without pick up buoys) along the eastern side (starboard) and various floating pontoons, which are not connected to shore. These were all full so we had to raft alongside another boat to share a mooring buoy. We chose a relatively similar sized boat, a Dehler 44 and the crew, although understandably reluctant to share the mooring, turned out to be very friendly and gave us some great tips for dinner, which was in an Italian restaurant called Bufala, with lovely views over the harbour. The next day was forecast to be a washout, so we took a taxi to the Eden Project which was a mere 20 minute drive away. On arrival, we discovered that we had left our bag, containing our camera behind on the side of the road, but, no problem, within 2 minutes our taxi driver had called the proprietor if the nearby shop who retrieved it and kept it for us until later on., all negotiated with West Country accents. People here really are very friendly. The Eden Project was very interesting with various geodesic domes, essentially giant greenhouses, called “biomes”. The main biomes was a rainforest and hot and humid, while the other was a Mediterranean climate. in other words hot and dry. The highlight of the day was Tomas and I doing the 660m, 50 second zip line over the Eden Project site. Adrenaline rush complete, it was back to Fowey and a pint at The Galleon and then dinner at the beautiful waterside pub, Havener’s. During dinner we were treated to a male voice choir singing Cornish Sea Shanties. The weather having settled, it was back to the boat for a well earned rest. The next day Dad was flying home from Newquay and we had a long upwind slog to Mousehole, and then the Isles of Scilly.

After 2 nights in Newlyn stormbound by Floris, we were ready to leave and the sun was shining finally. My Celtic Sea crew had flown home with the exception of my Dad and Su Yina be Yomas had flown in. We sailed out of the entrance of Newlyn Harbour and passed the famous Newlyn Tidal Observatory to starboard. (The Newlyn Tidal Observatory in, is a significant site for sea level measurement and is used to define the national height datum for Great Britain.). Our rainy day had allowed us some shore leave and we had rented a car and visited Lands End (I was glad I had kept well off it) and a comedy musical concert at the famous Minack Theatre, a cliffside natural amphitheatre with spectacular views. The sun had come out just in time for the show! This had been topped off with a sunset dinner in St Ives. Lastly Tomas and I had waded out in ankle deep water at dusk to St Michael’s Mount, Cornwall’s answer to Le Mont Saint Michel. All in all a perfect day, especially considering the miserable weather. We sailed across Mounts Bay in a 20kn northwesterly off out quarter with a reefed main and goose winged headsail. We crossed the Lizard (Britain’s most southerly point) and turned north, headed for Helford River. Crossing Black Head and The Guthins, we were on a beam reach, with a flat sea and flew along at 8.5kn, though another reef was prudent. Helford River was stunning. The scenery was very similar to Kinsale or Oysterhaven with lovely rolling farmland and wooded hillsides. On the northern shore above the village of Helford we noted the palatial home of Roger Taylor the drummer for the band Queen, who also owns the local pub the Shipwrights Arms. We dropped anchor on the peaceful northern shore opposite Helford village. Tomas and I had a great time exploring the little caves with the Stand Up Paddles and swimming off the rocks. Later that evening we went to the Shipwrights Arms for a fantastic dinner and a few pints. I had to take the hit for the group, by jumping in and dragging the boat up the seaweed strewn banks to save the shoes of the rest of the crew getting wet (God forbid). I had to repeat the feat after dinner, though with the help of a friendly local! All in all, another perfect day in our Cornish adventure.

“With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal”- this line from the Gilbert and Sullivan musical The Pirates of Penzance, struck me as we sailed past a town called Mousehole into Newlyn Harbour after a very lively overnight sail from Dungarvan. Not to labour the cat and mouse imagery, west of Mousehole we could see lots of sea caves which looked like big mouse holes straight out of a Tom and Jerry cartoon. East of Penzance, in the distance, we could see the iconic shape of St. Michael’s Mount, Cornwall’s answer to Le Mont Saint Michel. We were a little relieved to be into port, as the wind was strengthening and the mist and fog was increasing. We had left Dungarvan Harbour the previous morning in lovely sunshine on the rising tide, with family and friends waving flags to see us off. Initially , the winds were light and we raised sail off Ballinacourty, with no hitches other than embarrassingly forgetting to take in fenders (nobody noticed, thank God!). Our crew was me as skipper, my Dad Tom (his first long offshore passage), Therese (also her first) and Brian, a veteran of 2 passages to and from France. We had a very exciting passage and apart from a few bouts of sea sickness, it was uneventful. As usual, our trip was enlivened by a pod of curious dolphins playing at the bow. Initially, winds were light and we motor sailed until winds filled in from the west and we were off. The wind gradually strengthened and though our anemometer was reading 15kn winds, guiding 20kn, it felt like a lot more. During the night the wind strengthened and the sea state worsened with lots of mist and low temperatures, so we were glad of the double reefed mainsail and eventually we had also partially furled the headsail, all the while maintaining consistent boat speeds of over 6.5kn. This meant that were were eventually 4h ahead of schedule completing the passage and as we were approaching the busy Traffic Separation Scheme (TSS) in the dark, we opted to skirt along the western side awaiting dawn before crossing. After a sleepless night for me as there were lots of sail adjustments we approached Newlyn Harbour, contacting Simon, the very friendly harbourmaster initially by telephone and then over VHF channel 12. He had an alongside berth for us on the marina, though we soon had a Dutch ketch rafted outside. The harbour office was a bit of a trek through the fishing harbour, but the toilets/showers were very convenient right at the end of the marina entrance. We all had a lovely lunch and a pint of the local ale at the Red Lion pub, before Su Yin and Tomas arrived fresh from Newquay airport. Mission accomplished, time for a siesta and then dinner later. Sipadan embarks on her tour of Cornwall.