Late report on Fowey

As very briefly mentioned in the last post we made it to the final ASC21 destination, Fowey. The run west from Plymouth was relatively painless and we even managed to sail a good chunk of the distance to Fowey. On arrival we rafted briefly to the rest of the fleet before a pre-arranged space opened up on the town jetty.

Sam, Peter and friends

We discovered by chance that Peter, who runs one of Sam's stroke clubs just outside Bury St Edmunds in Suffolk, was on holiday in Fowey literally across the river from us. He could actually see our boat from his balcony and I could see him waving - I messaged him to say "Is one of you wearing a stripey top?" and he responded "that's me!"  He and his friends came over for a drink, which was very delightful as we hadn't seen him in person since February 2020 when Stroke Club meetings ended because of Covid.

The team ready to wheel Sam to the final dinner

Fowey is lovely but every road is very steep! On the 16th we had an end of cruise dinner at the Royal Fowey YC which is some way downriver from our mooring. We got Sam from one end of the town to the other with Mark pushing, me pulling an attached rope, and Lucilla literally going ahead to stop (one-way) oncoming traffic in some places – there is no room for a big SUV or van to pass a wheelchair. Sam was very patient, Mark very strong and there is no way we could have got to the Royal Fowey YC without them.

We had a very nice dinner with less feeling of social distancing than at the other events, but that was a good thing. It was only two days before "opening up day" after Covid. We had a few speeches and Kalessin won a bottle of wine for doing (almost) the whole cruise.

July 17 saw us heading back to Plymouth in flat calm conditions, although we did see a couple of dolphins and possibly a whale, and while everyone else in the whole of Plymouth Harbour was turning out to see the SailGP racing, I was mostly concerned that we would be able to get back to the marina before they closed the passages through. In fact The Bridge (that's a deep patch, not an actual bridge) next to Drake Island wasn't closed and the tide was fine for us to head in, so we did, and moored on the same pontoon we had been on before. We'd covered 502M from SYH including the leg north to Lowestoft.

I got a taxi to collect our one-way car hire from Enterprise, which disappointingly was a rather modest Skoda Fabia and not the Focus-sized hatchback I'd hoped for. Lucilla and Mark were whisked away by Mark's brother and we spent the afternoon packing and tidying, and trying to work out how to squeeze everything into the car. And on Sunday we drove home, via Birmingham which sounds mad but was probably quicker than the M25. The service areas were manic but with not much truck traffic the roads were ok.

We are safely home

 We are back in Hoxne and I'm a bit overwhelmed with work. We made it to Fowey which was lovely, but made me realise that Cornwall is possibly even worse than Guernsey for wheelchair users. Kalessin is now back in Plymouth awaiting next steps. I'll update you with the rest in a few days...

Via Salcombe to Plymouth

 

Salcombe on a damp morning 

Dartmouth to Salcombe is a relatively short hop, just 16 miles or so. Unfortunately as we left at Saturday lunchtime the air was so wet you could have squeezed it out like a mop and everything was damp and rather unpleasant with very light winds. Still, with a fair amount of tide under us we did manage an hour or so of actual sailing and some stunning views of Devon cliffs and hills.

In Salcombe we were on a visitors' pontoon along with 10 or so other WOA Westerlys. We were told it was "in the Bag" but not knowing exactly where that was we took a wrong turn and very nearly went aground in a side channel. All was well though, and back in the main channel we saw the rest of the fleet and rafted up to Morning Mist. We couldn't have got Sam ashore anyway so rafting up was no problem. The views were gorgeous, only slightly disturbed by dozens and dozens of dinghies and ribs buzzing up and down to the town. That's one major disadvantage of a mooring area over a marina. Gill and Dave from Morning Mist went off to explore Salcombe and came back not very much later to report that it was jam-packed with tourists and not much fun.

We'd planned to go into the Yealm on Sunday, but working out a fair tide to get there combined with enough water over the bar was proving a bit of a challenge. Then Gill mentioned that it was due to rain from lunchtime Sunday until Monday morning. Discretion proved the better part of valour and we decided to head for Plymouth Mayflower a day early, which also meant that Mark could be sure of watching some kind of football match (England vs Italy in the final of the UEFA Euro 2020).

Sunday was indeed damp, with a bumpy sea and modest southerlies. We could have sailed but I opted to motorsail with just the jib for the comfort of Sam, who is a bit under the weather – not ill exactly, but not coping very well. Lucilla and Mark got a chance to try out their 20-year-plus-old oilies when it bucketed with rain. Mark's were ok but smelled of very old cheese, while Lucilla's leaked. My beloved Musto trousers also leaked a bit, so I'd better start saving for a new set.

Finally after wiggling through Plymouth we ended up at what we hoped was the correct marina, and here we are on a nice safe berth, hiding from the rain. Let's hope for drier weather to come.

Bill & Lyme

 

Portland lighthouse and the tidal race ahead

On Thursday we finally headed off around Portland Bill at a relatively civilised 9am. We met up with Moonshine, a Centaur, by arrangement and escorted each other around Portland Bill, with a number of Westerlys and others also close by. It really wasn't too bad and we were almost as close in as recommended (150m off the shore). Then it was off for the long slog across Lyme Bay, 45 miles motorsailing straight into wind. It was a very long day and although we got some sunshine early on, by mid-afternoon it was just crash, crash, crash and very boring and unpleasant. Anne very wisely slept below, Sam dozed uncomfortably, and Ben and I played "who am I" until we'd used up all the people we could both think of.

Fellow ship Southern Storm in a quieter moment early on

Still, even bad things come to an end and we reached Dartmouth to our assigned berth on the town jetty and a welcome from John Alker, the Westerly rep in Dartmouth. The sun came out and it was almost worth the effort. This is really the West Country and it felt quite different from anywhere we had been before, with the narrow rocky entrance and steep hills on either side. Ben and Anne got a brief chance to explore on Thursday evening, and on Friday morning John Alker very kindly took them to Totnes to catch their train.

View from Kalessin, Thursday evening 

View of Kalessin, Friday morning 

With a day of ok weather I got a bit of a chance to explore Dartmouth, walking down to the castle, which was obviously the aim of everyone else in the town, and then up the steep hill to Gallants Bower, once a Civil War fort, where there was no-one at all.

I was back on the boat in time to clean up a bit and greet Lucilla and Mark as they arrived with Mark's brother and his wife and dog - they live on the Tamar in Cornwall and Lucilla and Mark had been staying there. A rapid settling in was followed by getting Sam off the boat, up the ramp into the town and immediately down the ramp to the other end of the same jetty to catch the ferry to Kingswear. (There's a wheelchair- and Covid-proof barrier in between the two ends of the jetty). We dined at the Royal Dart YC, with lovely drinks on the terrace with the rest of the WOA crews and then a very very slow meal, downstairs in the bar because the stairs had no rail on one side, with Lucilla and Mark plus Hillary and Kim from Moonshine. We learned a lot about Hillary and a little about Kim, who is a jeweller and was on the first two episodes of All That Glitters (Bake-Off for jewellers). Sam got very tetchy and tired, which was a shame, but on balance it was a good evening.

Fishy interlude

 

Because we stayed extra days at Portland we were able to visit Dorset Shellfish, which is only open from Wednesday to Saturday and sells local seafood. On our very well-equipped boat we have an oyster knife (€3 from Carrefour) so we bought half a dozen oysters and some crabmeat, and Ben made us crab linguine. What a treat!

Portland for a while

On Thursday night we invited the other WOA boats in Poole Quay Boat Haven for drinks on or near Kalessin, which was very nice and informal, and a good chance to catch up with some of the other owners. Fortunately we split spontaneously into groups of six, in the cockpit, on the pontoon and on the foredeck, so hopefully we were all Covid-safe.

For the night of Friday July 2 we had two options: stay another night in Poole or head off for Portland a day early. I dithered for some time about options then discovered that one of the other WOA boats in Poole had enquired about staying an extra night and had been told there were no spaces. That made the decision easy, so at 6am on Friday we headed out of PQBH heading westwards. Once again it was a day of light winds and tidal planning – there are overfalls (whirlpools caused by the tide) off Durlston Head and worse ones off St Alban's Head. I don't think we were quite close enough in to avoid the latter, but in the relatively benign conditions there was no great problem. 

Old Harry rocks

The next worry was the extremely active Lulworth firing range, where live fire was due between 0930 and 1230 that day. We had left early not just to get fair tide but also in an attempt to clear the range before firing started, and I think we were successful as no-one called us or warned us off. Behind us a number of WOA boats including Camomile were called on Ch 16, but we couldn't hear their side of the conversation. At least one boat heading for Lulworth Cove was told to go away.

As we approached Portland the entertainment included a number of cruise ships anchored out in the bay. The wind got up enough for us to sail for the last hour or so. David and I had an interesting discussion as we approached the vast outer walls of Portland Harbour. He was convinced that the opening in front of us was Weymouth Harbour. I was equally sure it was the north entrance to Portland, which it was in fact, and we entered with no problem at all while a tanker bound for the refuelling berth entered through the east entrance. (There's a south entrance too, but it's been blocked by the sunken HMS Hood since 1914).

Lots of Westerlys on S Pontoon

Portland is a huge Victorian man-made harbour which is the home of the Weymouth and Portland National Sailing Academy, and it hosted the Olympic sailing events in 2012. The marina dates from that time and although it occupies a relatively tiny bit of the harbour it's big and spacious, with dedicated visitor pontoons on the outer end, and its own inner harbour wall to reduce swell. All the Westerlys were on S pontoon, which was great apart from the very long walk to the facilities. We got a good location on the inside of the pontoon and all in all I was glad we got there on Friday.

There were WOA drinks on the Friday evening and the main WOA entertainment was shanty singing on the Saturday night. Both were led from Morning Mist which was immediately behind us, so Sam could join in without even having to leave the boat. After two sessions of manly shanties I was able to introduce the group to the Housework Shanty which we sing in Rough at the Edges, It went down very well and I'm sure Tim Brook would have been proud of me.

Walking around the prison 

Chesil Beach with Portland Harbour to the right

Chesil Beach from on top

The weather here is very odd with mist, clouds, sun and rain following each other in quick succession. On Saturday afternoon I was able to enjoy a great walk up to  HMP The Verne and across the ridge to get a wonderful view along Chesil Beach. What a very strange beach it is, looking more like a vast sea wall from most angles and held together with vast wire baskets. Walks around here seem to be dominated by the ghastly A354 which is almost impossible to cross without a central refuge, even running. On Strava you can see where I diverted quarter of a mile uphill to try to find a place where I could see traffic coming in both directions.

Sunday saw us saying farewell to David Jibb who spent an amazing three weeks with us and has been an invaluable crew. It was great to be able to discuss navigation with someone who was both knowledgeable and interested, and several times he alerted me to issues I had completely overlooked. Of course we do some things differently but I think we reached a compromise on most things and he gave us a bottle of gin and some tonics on his departure, which was above and beyond the call of duty. I do hope he enjoyed it, and that he gets out to Sharina II soon. 

Just as David messaged me to say he was home in Deal, Ben and Anne arrived. Hooray! They found me dithering once again about departure. Sunday had been very windy, windier than forecast perhaps. Monday offered a relatively short window of modest winds, straight on the nose, with wind starting to build again by late afternoon for a seriously windy day on Tuesday. The fleet was dividing, with some going for it and heading out around the terrifying Portland Bill (it has a scary tidal race) to go for Torbay or Dartmouth, others waiting out the wind in Weymouth, and some heading back to the Solent. I decided to get up very early and trot over to Chesil Beach to look at the sea state, which I did. Actually the sea state was ok, but the prospect of heading straight into a F4 for at least six hours with a crew who hadn't got their sea legs yet seemed like a really bad idea. In fact it seems it was not as bad as expected, and apart from Camomile, who suffered a transmission failure and had to be towed into Dartmouth, the rest all reached their intended destinations without problems.

Weymouth Marina had no room for us and I didn't want to be rafted up on Wemouth quay, so we decided to stay where we were where we could at least get Sam ashore (although sadly the accessible facilities are out of use, so no shower). We managed to get Sam off the boat on Monday afternoon for a walk to Portland Castle where we had tea and looked at the view, then to Chesil Beach so Sam could see it, and back along the ghastly A354. I diverted to Lidl to get some rice just as it started to rain, and Ben and Anne managed to get Sam back on board between them, bless them. It took well over an hour in the cockpit tent with blankets, hot tea and the electric fan heater before Sam thawed sufficiently to come below.

Here we are at 1630 on Tuesday and I still haven't been off the boat today. After torrential rain overnight we have had strong and steady winds of up to 25 knots almost all day. A chance to do some work and catch up with this blog, at length. We're still hoping to leave here on Thursday.

Poole bathing

I went swimming off this beach!

We seem to be alternating between town and country marinas on this trip and our next berth kept the pattern going, with a berth at Poole Quay Boat Haven. It used to be possible to moor on the town quay at Poole for a modest fee, if you were very well fendered. Possibly it still is, but most of the quay is now occupied by trip boats and Brownsea Island ferries, and the local authority's preference is for you to use its very expensive (£47 a night) facilities at the relatively new marina. This can take huge superyachts including the Swedish Cygnus Montanus, £30m-worth of Frers-designed, NZ-built family superyacht. However, the marina is not as smart as you would expect for your dosh. 

On the other hand a washing machine wash and tumble dry were both effective and cost just £3.50 compared with up to £10 in Premier marinas, and I found £2 in the bottom of the washing machine. Result!

Cygnus Montanus heading out

The old quay looks very uncomfortable 

A stroll on Wednesday afternoon took me much further than I thought, to find Boots (hydrocolloidal plasters for a weeping wound on Sam's leg which I'm a bit worried about) and M&S, where for the first time for many months I walked into a store and bought a pair of trousers! 

On Thursday morning I felt I needed a run so headed over the bridge and found Hamworthy park which has a shallow beach. A brief paddle confirmed that the water was as warm as it looked, so I stripped off and had a brief swim. What bliss, even in in 50cm deep water. I had no towel of course, so once again I was running in very wet clothes, this time through the middle of Poole. Goodness knows what people thought.

I was keen to get Sam a shower again so I had thought I'd look at the facilities, which are behind a series of unprepossessing blue doors on the other side of the road, next to Tesco Metro. I couldn't get in to the accessible one so enquired at the marina office, and discovered it had a different code which released the keypad lock but still didn't open the door. After trying it half a dozen times, and being advised that someone was probably using it (for 12 hours?) it transpired on Thursday that you need to put in the code and then rattle the door with the strength of a 20-year-old man, and then it opens. How well thought out. But when we finally got in it was nearly worth the effort, with gallons of very hot water and even sideways jets which went pretty much everywhere but over Sam. 

Once clean and dry we went for a pleasant walk and sat and drank a cappuccino in the sun. It was almost like normal life.