Author: Helen

Splash day at last!

Winter turned into spring and as the trees burst into leaf and gardens filled with beautiful colour and bird song, we continued our daily trip to the dusty boatyard.   On 28 March the “stay at home” order was lifted and the boatyard became a hive of activity as people visited their boats for the first time in months.   We had watched one of our neighbouring boats transform through several shades of green as the deck, canvas and ropes slowly got covered in mould. 

As launch day grew closer it became clear there was still a lot of unfinished work left to do and we were not going to get everything finished.  The weather, although improving, was still cold and the thought of moving back on board without a heater, with the night temperatures still in the low single digits, was not something we were looking forward to!    After talking to our electrician, Richard, and the boatyard, we decided to delay launching by a week, which would give us more time to finish the jobs and thoroughly check all the new systems.   Rushing to launch when there was no need and risk having issues once we were on the water, was unnecessary and took pressure off us and Richard to finish.

The new date was set for Thursday 8 April and we felt relieved as soon as we had given ourselves the extra breathing space!   Understanding the new deadline, Richard then worked flat out to finish the electrics while Steve started work installing the heater so it was ready for Richard to do the final wiring and installation.   

The delay in launching meant we had a few more precious days with Bea and Andy.  The four of us were invited to a lovely BBQ at friends of theirs, William and Louise, who we have really enjoyed getting to know, snatching at the opportunity to meet up each time restrictions allow!   Bea and I went on a very long walk over Easter, bumping into Pete, another old friend of Bea and Andy’s, as he took a dip in the cold Atlantic Ocean with his daughter!   On Easter Friday we organised a fun treasure hunt, hiding surprises in Bea and Andy’s big garden and making up cryptic clues as they tried to work out where the treasure was hidden!  The weather improved a little and we took our new inflatable kayak out for a test paddle to Helford River. Also over Easter we arranged to meet Phil Collings who built Cerulean over 25 years ago.  We had been communicating with Phil for a few months so we were really pleased to finally meet him and learn more about our beautiful home.

Our second launch day crept closer and closer.  Richard worked long hours on our electrics, with the occasional “Eureka!” moment when he worked out why something was (or wasn’t) behaving as expected.   Steve’s anxiety levels grew each day and we had discussions about whether we would be ready to launch on 8 April, as scheduled.   I remained positive and focused on making sure everything else we had control of was completed and the boat was as ready as she could be for us to move back on board.   Each day when we arrived we hoped we would find a noticeable difference in the work Richard was doing, but every day we arrived to the same mess of exposed wiring, tools stacked in the cabin and a disheveled looking Cerulean.   I tried cleaning around the piles of belongings, moving things from one corner of the boat to another so I could access and clean cupboards, bilges, walls and ceilings before carefully moving the mess back so I could start again in another area!   

Over the cold, damp winter mould had taken a grip and there seemed to be a constant battle as each day I would seek out and destroy any new or unseen patches.  Finding new locations for the mould made me feel almost triumphant as I freely sprayed vinegar on the unwanted guest. 

While I cleaned Steve and Richard identified the best location for “Tommy”, our diesel heater, and, with guidance from Richard, Steve then fitted it, traced all the wires, vents and exhaust leaving Richard to check his handy work, drill a whole in the stern for the exhaust, and complete the wiring. 

The day before launch day we hired a van and packed it with all our worldly goods, plus a few other things, and drove to the boatyard.   Our wonderful carpenter, Kyle, who made our cockpit grating and helped repair some of the teak toerail, arrived to complete a last minute request to do some cosmetic wizardry and, on surveying the mess, asked if we were moving in or off the boat as it was such a mess …..   that was before we started unloading the van!    

Steve and I carried, climbed, hauled, pushed and shoved everything onto Cerulean from the van.   As we squeezed past Richard and Kyle (while still trying to keep a safe distance apart), I wondered how we could have accumulated so much stuff in just 12 months!    The saloon was still looking like a bombsite, so everything had to be piled onto our bed or the passage berth until Richard had finished the electrics.

Bea picked us up when we dropped off the hire van, took Steve back to the boat while we returned to the house so I could clean and tidy the upstairs room that we had made our home for the last six months.   I felt quite sad with the realisation that our special time with Bea and Andy was coming to an end and our covid family bubble was finally being burst.

Bea and Andy prepared a wonderful celebrational meal of fresh oysters followed by a delicious baked fish and washed down with some rosé wine given me by my beautiful friend in NZ, Kim. 

At last launch day had arrived.  I stocked the fridge and cupboards while Steve did a few jobs in the boat.   Peter, from Sailtech, delivered and installed our beautiful new sails.   He has been awesome to work with and get to know.  We gave away 30m of our old rusty anchor chain which was collected just after Graham, the Boatyard Manager, requested its removal – perfect timing.  Richard was still working furiously in the boat and Steve was getting more and more anxious asking, “Does this look like a boat that’s launching in a couple of hours?”  I asked him “what does a boat that’s launching in a couple of hours look like?” but received a blank stare in response.   My philosophy was once we get afloat we can sort things but it’s not worth getting too upset about it until then.  I knew we had a lot of work to do, but it was achievable and we just needed to keep the end goal in sight. 

Graham arrived and started putting Cerulean in the hoist, ready to move her towards the water.   We ran around the cabin like worker bees in a hive stowing, moving, securing and clearing while Richard continued to calmly work away.  Tommy the heater was now operational as were most of the electronics with only a few head-scratching issues to resolve.   Richard packed his tools and left the boat while Steve and I quickly painted antifoul on the areas we were unable to reach while Cerulean was in her cradle.   When it was time to move I remained on the boat as we were slowly lowered into the water, checking all the through hull fittings to make sure there were no leaks.   Gary, who fitted our new engine, was waiting for us on the pontoon and started work immediately on commissioning the motor.   When he turned the key the engine purred into life and the memories of our old, smelly, dirty and noisy motor faded away.    The 2hr commissioning stopped abruptly when Gary discovered the pitch (angle) of the propellor was out and this meant the engine was revving too low when in gear.  To adjust the angle of the propellor meant hauling us out again and, as the hoist was booked solid for the rest of the week, this was not possible immediately.   Graham came to see us and said he would try hard to fit us in one day the following week.  Until then we could use the engine, as long as we were gentle with her, staying close to Falmouth.   As he helped us cast the lines, Graham offered us his mooring for the night and we happily motored down the river, picking up his mooring just off the main harbour in Falmouth.

We poured ourselves a celebrational sundowner each as we surveyed the peaceful surroundings of the bay, happy to be back on board –  until we remembered the chaos we needed to sort out below before we could go to bed! 

Exhausted but happy, we collapsed into bed after a lovely meal and felt at peace as all the pressure of the last few days/weeks/months slowly drift away with the outgoing tide. I’m happy we couldn’t see what was around the corner, as we probably wouldn’t have felt quite so relaxed…..!

Second season – launching soon!

Our long winter in the boatyard in Cornwall is slowly drawing to a close.  The days are getting noticeably longer and the daytime temperatures are improving.  With this, our very long list of boat jobs is getting smaller and our excitement at getting closer to moving back on board Cerulean, is mounting.  We consider ourselves incredibly fortunate to have been able to spend the winter months in this beautiful corner of the world, not only so we can enjoy the environment but also spend precious and special times with Bea and Andy who have been fabulous, generous hosts and company.

We started the winter with a daunting list of boat improvements and maintenance we needed to address.   As we began working through the list more jobs were added and we soon had an insurmountable list which, instead of motivating us, did the opposite.   Using the program, Trello, we decided to break the list down into what could be done pre-launch, what was urgent, what needed to be done by professionals and jobs that could wait until we were back in the water.   This made the essential work a lot more manageable and we took great satisfaction being able to move jobs from one list to the “Done” section!

Just before Christmas our old engine was removed and sold for spares, giving us the opportunity to clean the engine space in preparation for our new one which arrived in early January.   We had a few frustrations due to communication breakdowns and ended up with an engine which was not exactly what we wanted or expected.  This was extremely upsetting considering the amount of time, effort and research we had done, not to mention the huge expense of a new engine.    We were caught in a difficult conundrum – make a big fuss and insist on a new engine, with the result of delaying our launch and complicating our works schedule which had been carefully organised to coincide with the engine install, or bite the bullet and find a solution to the problem we now faced.  The national lockdown allowed one person working on the boat inside at any one time so we had carefully choreographed for people to come to the boat with no overlaps and give enough time for work to be completed by the end of March.   Andy, my Marine Engineer brother-in-law, had designed a new battery management plan for us, improving the way we generated and monitored our power, so we worked with him to ensure the new engine would work well with the plan.   Andy came up with some good solutions which allowed us to proceed with the “not perfect” engine and give us battery and regenerating options which we were comfortable with.   The compromise engine was fitted and in early January we were given our boat back so we could continue with other projects on our list.    A short time later, the riggers re-installed our mast, which had been removed in December and all of a sudden, we were a sailboat again.   It felt like we were making progress.

Getting an electrician to even look at the boat, was proving challenging.   We wanted to move, tidy up and replace most of the battery monitoring and charging units and we had soon exhausted all the recommended electricians who were too busy to complete the work within our two month window.   The same company who installed the engine had originally agreed to do the electrical work but now told us they could not start it until June and the boat would need to remain out of the water for what they estimated to be 200 hours of work.   Once again we felt let down and angry at the mis-communication, but as they obviously weren’t interested in the work and our confidence in them was fast diminishing, we turned them down and started looking for other electricians.   After making several calls for help and recommendations from the sailing community, we eventually split the job in two and found a couple of excellent electricians (Adrian and Richard) who together completed the entire job in less than 80 hours.   In an attempt to reduce the electricians time, we spent days chasing and labelling wires, removing old ones and learning as much as we could about the wiring on our boat.   Richard then continued tidying up and removed more old and unused cables, finding ways to hide some unsightly ones and giving recommendations on how we could improve other aspects of the boat.   As a marine surveyor, Richard has a huge amount of knowledge and expertise we could tap into, which we often did!  

In addition to sorting our electrics, Richard is also installing “Tommy” our heater, replacing the element in our hot water cylinder (currently we only have hot water after running the engine, but in future we hope to be able to heat water in a marina or when we use our generator), repairing our flexiteek deck and gives general advice on maintenance questions.   He really is a trove of information and we are incredibly lucky to have found him.  

While we continue with our boat work, Covid continues to have a devastating affect on the UK, Europe and the rest of the World, except New Zealand, it appears! We have been in lockdown, or certainly had restricted movements, for the last 12 months and any opportunity to visit family and friends while in the UK is fast disappearing for us. We have had close encounters with Covid and experienced the joys of a Covid test, and recently we felt fortunate to have qualified for the first in two vaccinations. The temporary vaccination centre, set up on a rural showground in the middle of nowhere, was run with British efficiency and military precision – we were in and out within 10 minutes of arriving with friendly staff directing us through the many levels of ID checks and information.

In late 2020 my son, Jak (who should’ve been travelling with his gorgeous girlfriend, Juliette when Covid destroyed their plans) proposed to his longtime partner.   They decided to have a short engagement and set the date of the wedding for February so they could go overseas in the middle of 2021.   I was devastated to not be there, as Covid restrictions made it impossible for me to return to NZ for a few weeks due to the managed isolation hotels being fully booked until April.  It is over a year since I have held my children and feel the pain of the distance between us every day, so missing out on such a special and important day in my son’s life was a very hard pill to swallow.   I know there are many other, bigger sacrifices people have made in the last 12 months so I consider myself very lucky to have been able to participate virtually, staying awake most of the night to watch the proceedings and enjoy the union of these two beautiful people.

It is now less than two weeks until we go back in the water and we still have a lot of work to complete.  Fortunately we have accepted an offer of help from a boatbuilding student called David, and we have prepared a list of jobs for him while Steve continues with our maintenance schedule and I start cleaning everything before we begin moving the soft furnishings back on board and making Cerulean feel like home again.   Lockdown restrictions are slowly being eased as the UK vaccination programme is rolled out.   We have decided to stay in the UK until we can have the second vaccine at the end of May as we feel this will improve our chances of having unrestricted access to other countries, so it’s worth extending our stay in the UK for a few weeks to achieve this. 

In the meantime, boat work continues and we look forward to being back on the water to test out all our new toys and systems.  Maybe then we can have a few days rest and just enjoy the privilege of living the life we have chosen.

B.O.A.T – Bring Out Another Thousand

We have been in Falmouth for nearly three months – hard to believe, considering it has been raining for most of that time!   My amazing sister, Bea, and brother-in-law, Andy, have welcomed us into their home and we have become one very happy family living together while respecting each other’s space and needs.   For me, at least, this has been a special time for me to be able to re-connect with my UK family while we work hard on the long list of jobs we need to finish on Cerulean.

The boat has been out of the water since mid-October and in that time she has been stripped of everything that made her a home as well as almost everything that made her a boat!   We took everything – and I mean everything – off and out of the boat, including the old engine!   If it could be carried, lifted or unscrewed and removed, it was.   We stored most things in Bea and Andy’s garage and what wasn’t needed any more, we sold or threw out.   The old engine was sold and shipped to it’s new home in Scotland along with many spares, manuals and fittings that will not be needed on the new engine.    We took our sails to be cleaned and serviced at SKB, a nearby sail loft who we had already contracted to make us a new sprayhood and main sail bag, called a stackpack.   After lots of deliberation we are changing the colour of our canvas from beige to blue as it will hide the dirt better!   The team at SKB were fantastic and agreed for us to be present when they inspected and assessed our sails so we could learn more about sail repair and future maintenance.   We took five sails to the loft and discovered that three were past their use-by date, meaning the material was starting to disintegrate and stitching was becoming compromised due to UV and age.   We had not anticipated getting new sails immediately, but had expected to replace them before crossing the Atlantic in 12 months.   New sails were added to our shopping list.

The wooden grating on the floor of our cockpit had slowly fallen apart over the summer and needed to be replaced.   We received a toe curling quote from the boatyard to have one custom made.  I went in search of a local carpenter who quoted a much more acceptable price.  We added a new grate to our shopping list.

Our new engine arrived in the same week as the old engine was removed and we immediately started cleaning the bilges to get rid of years of grease and oil build up.   Gary, who removed the old engine, announced it was the dirtiest engine and space he had ever worked in – not a great badge of honour for us to wear and I vowed I would never let it get that dirty again, particularly after spending four days cleaning the engine space until it gleamed!   Due to a communication breakdown somewhere along the lines, the new engine had to be returned as our boat runs a 24V system and the one we were sent was for a 12V system only.  This led to a delay in the new engine being installed – not a major issue as we have plenty of time up our sleeve – but does mean we have to live with a mess in the main cabin, making moving around the boat difficult when trying to do other jobs.   A new engine is already on the shopping list.

Continuous rain meant our attempt to remove, clean and re-bed all the through deck fittings, was strung out over a period of about a week.   Our daily bike rides from Bea and Andy’s to the boat were getting wetter and less enjoyable for me, in particular, and I often suggested Steve take the journey on his own while I found other work to do at the house.   During these short days I made a missing cushion for the forward berth which meant the two berths can now be made into one big double.   I also made fitted sheets for our oddly shaped bed which will mean making the bed will be much easier.   I sewed a hanging toolbag for the back of the passage berth door so the regularly used tools can be kept in one place, and started sewing flags for the many countries we hope to visit next year.   In addition I started making covers for our fenders to protect them from UV damage and the boat from grease and dirt.   Sewing things were put on the shopping list.

Andy is a marine electrical engineer and he designed a new battery management system for us.   It will be essential for us to be able to keep the batteries topped up and generate enough power to drive all the electrical items on the boat, including lights, navigation equipment and fridge.  New solar panels, battery charger and battery monitors are in the shopping list.

In early December, the riggers came and removed our mast.  In addition to checking all the rigging, the mast needed some attention.  The survey we had done while purchasing the boat, found several points of corrosion and chaffing on the mast and these repairs could only be undertaken with the mast down.  We were also getting a lot of water entering the boat from the side of the mast and this needed to be addressed as it was impossible to keep the boat completely dry.   Once the mast was removed we were able to clean under the mast itself, an area that had become choked up with all sorts of dirt and grime.   A new mast collar, new halyards and replacement cleats are on the shopping list.

A small break in the weather meant we could finish rebedding the stanchions (poles) that held our safety lines in place.  The safety lines are like the fencing that surrounds the outside of the boat and are an essential barrier between you and the ocean when moving around the boat.   Twenty years ago, when Cerulean was built, it was thought that a plastic coating over the top of wire was a good way to prevent corrosion and help avoid chaffing as well as making the wire more comfortable to hold.  However, it is now considered bad practice to have a coating on the wire as it is hard to see whether the wire is rusty or breaking thereby making it unsafe and possible to fail when you need it most.   We started to remove the plastic coating and found many broken threads.   New safety wires are on the shopping list.

A few months ago I made contact with Peter Snow, the first owner of Cerulean who had the boat commissioned and built in 1994.  Peter has provided us with lots of valuable information, including providing us with the name and contact details of the original boat builder who still lives in Falmouth.   I was very excited to be able to get hold of Phil and talk to him about Cerulean, obviously stirring up some very happy memories of his time building our beautiful boat.   Sadly, lockdown meant we were not able to meet up immediately, but we arranged to do so in the New Year and, as Phil was still working as a boat builder, we discussed the possibility of him coming to do some work on the boat helping us reseal the windows and hatches which seem to be leaking.  We are going to attempt to do one on our own and see how easy it is!

As you can tell, we have been busy and have a lot of work, and expense, ahead of us.  While some of these jobs and expense could be delayed, we have decided to press ahead.  We have a long journey ahead of us and we consider it important to have a safe, seaworthy and reliable boat, regardless of the expense at this stage – we consider it worth it!

When we’re not on the boat we are making the most of being in a beautiful part of the country.  We are extremely lucky to be in Falmouth, not just because of it’s beauty and history, but also because there are lower Covid cases here than any other parts of the UK.   Life for us has continued pretty much as normal during the lockdown.   Apart from cafes, pubs and restaurants being closed we were still able to work on the boat and buy the necessary tools and equipment to keep forging ahead. 

Now it is a few days to Christmas.  We celebrated early with Bea and Andy before they left for Northern Ireland to spend time with their daughter, Fay and her beautiful family.  We have been left in charge of the house and chickens for a week and will have a quiet Christmas together, just the two of us.  

As 2020 comes to an end and we reflect on the last year, we consider ourselves extremely lucky to have been able to continue with our adventure in spite of the lockdowns and restrictions.  Our hope is that things improve in 2021 and restrictions are lifted so we can start our journey back to NZ in the New Year.  In the meantime, we are continuing to improve and prepare ourselves and Cerulean and look forward to getting her back in the water in March.

Rescued again!

The number of Covid cases in all of the UK had started to increase at such a rate that it felt like doors were closing behind us as we made our way south. Just as we were leaving Northern Ireland, tighter measures were put in place and it was no longer possible to visit people in their homes and pubs were closing. Wales was starting to talk about stopping people entering or leaving some regions, so we were keen to continue heading south as soon as possible and head for Padstow on the North Cornwall coast.  The weather looked good, although winds were light so, after resting from our memorable night sail from Holyhead, we set off at 4.30am to make sure we could arrive at the entrance to Padstow in time to cross the sand bar and get a berth the inner harbour which is only open two hours either side of high tide.   More big winds were forecast so once again, we had a race against time to get to Padstow ahead of the weather!

We had 60 miles to cover in 10 hours, so if we could keep our average speed at 6knots we would be there in time to cross the bar and get into the marina.   As the wind was light, we had to motor to keep within our schedule and, although the seas were sloppy with waves on our side causing us to roll quite violently, it was relaxing sitting on deck and watching the sun slowly rise.   A dolphin joined us for a while to greet the sun as we slowly watched the coast of Wales fade into the distance.

When we bought Cerulean, we knew the engine was in desperate need of a major overhaul or replacing and we have chosen to get a new engine installed over the winter.  During our trip we have been patching up the engine and spending the least amount on it in order to keep it going until we haul out in October.   Apart from drinking copious amounts of oil, she has been reliable but, call it what you like, I had started getting a feeling we would not make it all the way back to Cornwall without something happening.  My sense of impending problems was so strong we had a conversation about what we would do if the engine failed on this passage and I had asked Steve to ensure he was well versed in knowing how to change the impeller and where the fuel filters were stored.    With these words ringing in our ears I heard the engine splutter and then stop!   On the positive side, the sun was shining and we had been averaging 7knots in speed, so had a few miles under our belt……

We unfurled the headsails and started sailing – under 5knots at first but the wind Gods were kind to us and slowly the pressure started to build and we were soon gliding along at 6knots while Steve tried to figure out what was wrong with the engine.    It’s fair to say that Steve is a reluctant mechanic and is learning more than he ever thought he needed, or wanted to know about engines! We deduced, judging by the way the engine suddenly died, it was either a fuel or air problem.   We have two fuel filters and Steve cleaned the primary filter – something we had been checking regularly anyway and cleaned the air filter which was very dirty.   The engine still would not start.   We decided to call Falmouth coastguard on the radio to let them know we were in no imminent danger but inform them of our predicament as we would not be able to cross the bar without a working engine.  They in turn contacted Padstow Harbour and arranged a tow from one of their pilot vessels, advising us to call them on the radio when we were 10 minutes away from the entrance to the sand bar.   Perfect.  The pressure was off and we could focus on trying to repair the engine and sail the boat to get as much speed as possible to ensure we met the tidal deadline.  

We arrived at Padstow entrance dead on high tide and called Padstow patrol on the agreed channel.  Nothing.   I tried again.   No response.   This time a tourist passenger boat responded saying he would relay our message to Harbour Patrol when he crossed the bar and was closer to the marina.   There were two problems.  The first being I could see on AIS (our GPS positioning system) that he was quite a long way from the entrance to Padstow and the second problem was he was moving at 3knots and at this rate it would be dark before he relayed the information!   The wind had dropped and the current was starting to drag us away from the entrance.   I called the marina on the phone and they said they’d pass the message on to the patrol.   We watched AIS anxiously as we were drifting closer to rocks and waited for a patrol boat to become visible on the screen but after ten minutes of drifting closer to the rocks, no boats had appeared on AIS leaving the harbour.  Now I was getting anxious, so I called again.  As I was talking to the captain of the pilot boat, who assured me he was leaving the harbour as we talked, I noticed a lobster pot beside the boat.   There are lobster pots all along the coastline and we always keep a close lookout to avoid them, but we had spotted this one too late and ran over it.  

On the positive side, as we got ourselves tangled in the offending lobsterpot buoy we stopped drifting towards the rocks, so we took the sails down and waited for our rescuers to arrive while hearing the tourist boat relaying our earlier message to the fast approaching pilot boat!  

Lobsterpots look quite innocuous as they bob around in the sea.  We have had to avoid them when we’ve been a long way from land in over 40m of water.  Sometimes the buoys marking where the lobsterpots are can be submerged just under the surface making them very difficult to spot.  The one we had attached ourselves to had a pink flag on a bamboo stick and two buoys – one was a football wrapped in netting, and the other was a pickup buoy just below the water.   The flag and the football were attached to each other and the lobster pot by a long piece of thick rope and this was wrapped around our rudder.  We were informed that the buoys could be attached to up to 50 lobster pots which meant the weight of our “anchor” could be very heavy and, if we were towed with these attached, could result in us loosing our rudder.   With little option and virtually no hesitation, Steve stripped off and, with a knife in hand, dived into the cold water to cut the rope to the lobsterpots.   If I wasn’t married to him already, I think I would have fallen in love with him at that point!   What a hero he was!  Not only was it very deep and very cold, there was a strong tide and a danger that he could get swept under the boat so it was with huge relief that the whole action of diving in, cutting the rope and getting back out of the water took less than 30 seconds! 

We were free and there was still time to cross the bar so we headed towards the entrance attached to a long rope behind the powerful pilot vessel with instructions to steer to keep Cerulean directly behind them while still trailing the flag and buoy attached to our rudder!    Twice the towing line broke and on the second time the rope joining the flag and buoy managed to work it’s way up and get caught between the top of our rudder and the bottom on the boat, meaning I now had no steering and the rudder was locked to port (left)!   Not great when we were still to negotiate a narrow entrance into the inner harbour and be pushed into a berth!   The patrol boat came alongside and towed us beside them, both of us squeezing through the harbour entrance as we held fenders to ensure Cerulean didn’t get damaged as we were pushed against the harbour wall.

It was a relief to be safely berthed in the centre of beautiful Padstow – a popular tourist destination and traditional fishing port.  A storm was coming and we were happy to be able to spend time in this lovely town.  

The next day Steve jumped into the water again and removed the rope from our rudder.  Our engine was fixed by a lovely engineer who came on board in the late afternoon and stayed for a few hours until he had removed the offending blockage in the pipe between the fuel tank and filter, and replaced the starter motor – luckily we had a spare on board!  We were operational again and it felt good! By the way, just in case you are worried about the Lobsters, trapped in their pots at the bottom of the sea, we did pass on the position of the pots to the Coastguard and Harbourmaster in the hope the fishing boat would be informed.

The inclement weather meant we spent nine days in Padstow, which gave us time to enjoy exploring the town and surrounding area.  Our lovely neighbour, Alfie, was our only close social contact as Covid cases seemed to be increasing rapidly, so we kept our distance from the tourists who jostled for position on the harbourside within 20 metres of our boat. 

Padstow is a foodie destination with numerous excellent eateries most notably Rick Stein’s famous fish restaurant.  In fact Rick Stein establishments are so prominent and numerous in Padstow, the town is locally known as Padstein!   He seems to have cornered the market in fine dining, fish and chips, cafés, cooking school, deli and even homeware!  I understand people have a love/hate relationship with his presence in the town but his establishments are very popular and obviously bring alot of tourist money to the region.

Padstow must be a beautiful place to visit in the summer as there are several long sandy beaches close to the town and an estuary which, even on a cold sunny day in autumn, was full of kite surfers and windsurfers which Steve watched enviously as we followed a long string of people walking towards the headland.  It did feel odd being in such a busy place when we have been quite isolated for a few months and we both felt uncomfortable being in such close proximity to crowds of people.

The weather started to clear and we began planning our next passage around Landsend to Penzance.   We delayed our departure by a day after the weather improved, to give the sea time to calm down after the long period of windy weather.   We knew the seas would be rolly so did not want to cross the bar in conditions that would be rough.    Before finalising our departure we talked to the harbourmaster who looked at the webcam and informed us it was looking calm at the harbour entrance, so on high tide, we slipped our lines and headed up the river towards the sand bar – called Doom Bar!

Crossing Doom Bar was fine, but the seas on the other side were much worse than we expected.  We crashed, head on into large breaking waves as Cerulean’s nose buried into the water and soaked us and everything on deck.   We discovered leaks in the cabin we had not experienced before as water entered our home through any crack or undiscovered gap.  Our belongings rattled as we continued to be thrown down the big waves that broke in front of us while both of us remained remarkably calm through the whole ordeal.   At one point I did feel huge guilt that I had led Steve into this situation as it had been my dream to live on a boat and now I melodramatically pictured Steve’s life in danger and, as captain, that was my doing and responsibility.  The force of the water was so strong our navigational light, securely mounted on the bow pulpit (stainless steel railing at the front of the boat), was knocked off and thrown back to us in the cockpit!

We continued heading out of the bay into deeper water and away from the islands and headland until we could safely hoist the main sail with two reefs and unfurl the small forestay jib.  The boat settled down as we turned the engine off and unfurled the larger yankee as Cerulean picked up speed and we were able to fall into a more comfortable rhythm with the seas and rolling waves!  We had three sails up and once again, we made good speed towards Landsend, arriveing on slack tide which is a huge advantage to get around this treacherous headland.  There are often large seas at Landsend when the wind is against the tide and we were not looking forward to a repeat of our earlier experience!

We arrived in Penzance as night fell and entered the inner harbour half an hour after the gates opened for their four hour tide window when the harbour gates slowly rise to keep water levels higher than the adjoining outer harbour, which dries out at low tide.

After a peaceful night tied to a large ferry, we left as the gates slowly lowered and headed out of Penzance in glorious sunshine and a steady wind.  The near by Medieval castle and chapel on St Micheals Mount was silhouetted against the bright morning sky.  

We checked AIS as we turned off the engine and gently sailed towards The Lizard headland, 14 miles away.   One other yacht was visible on AIS and it was Saga, our sailing companion on our memorable night sail from Holyhead!  They were sailing in our direction and ended up passing close behind us before gybing and following us towards the Lizard. We continued to sail in convoy the remaining 10miles to Falmouth, once again having a wonderful sail under shared skies and seas, speeding along at 8 knots.  As we entered Falmouth the weather deteriorated so we put in two reefs in the main before being hit by a rain squall, while a rainbow arched from one side of the harbour to the other.  At the same time I noticed something jumping out of the water beside us and announced to Steve we had dolphins again, but as I watched them jumping high out of the water I realised they were not dolphins but a school of very large tuna which were leaping beside us!

What an amazing way to finish our first season sailing on Cerulean.  It felt good to be back in Falmouth, ready for the next phase of our adventure and getting the boat ready for the biggest challenge of ours, and the boats, life so far!

Fair winds and good sailing

The weather in Scotland had been perfect, and as we left Tighnabruaich to sail around the other side of Bute, the sun shone again and we were treated to calm, still conditions. 

We motored through the narrow channel around Burnt Islands on the Northern side of Bute, looking out for the ferry from Colintraive (remembering the last frantic journey I had taken on it with my sister, Judy, a few years earlier…. But that’s another story!) and past Sir Richard Attenborough’s old house (my sister Lynn will appreciate this, as we used to make a point of commenting on the house each time we saw it, and seeing if we could spot its famous resident!).  We continued motoring down the East Kyle until the wind had increased and as the islands main town of Rothesay came into view, we unfurled the sails and turned the engine off for a lovely sail east to Largs on the mainland.

An old friend from Cambridge had moved to Glasgow many years ago and each time I visited my parents, we would arrange to meet.   A trip to Scotland would not have been the same if I hadn’t been able to catch up with Tracey, so we had arranged to spend a night in Largs marina to meet Tracey and her partner, Jim, for a few hours.   One of the standouts about this marina was the impressive boat handling skills we witnessed as large yachts successfully negotiated very tight spaces and I could only watch in awe as they expertly berthed their boats at speeds that made my toes curl.  I covert their confidence as I tend to approach cautiously and slowly, which sometimes is to my detriment as with a bit of speed, boats tend to be more responsive.

The next day we left early, just after low tide.  The wind was light and behind us, so we decided to test out our cruising chute – a large, lightweight (usually colourful) sail which flies from the front of the boat.   This was the first time we had attempted to fly the sail, and were pleased with how easy it was to set up and trim.   With the sun shining and the sails set, we relaxed in the sunshine, reading and enjoying the peace and quiet as we gently made our way down wind.   A submarine appeared on the horizon and we watched the large vessel continue at high speed above water, around the south side of Arran.  We have seen a lot of military exercises and vessels, ships and aircraft, since being on the boat.

After spending our last night in Scotland on anchor we continued the next day to sail 30 miles back to Bangor in Northern Ireland.   With a close eye on the weather, the next evening we left at 7pm for a night sail to Wales.  Steve had been keeping track of a big low that was approaching but we felt there was time for us to sail the 100 miles to Holyhead before the big winds were due to hit the next day in the early evening.   He was right, we had a great passage although neither of us slept much, and we arrived in Holyhead as the winds were starting to increase.

Holyhead marina was destroyed in a storm in 2018 when 80 boats sank, and today all that remains of the marina is one pontoon that can accommodate about 10 boats.  Although the Victorian breakwater is the longest in the UK at 2.7km, the pontoon is still very exposed and we were concerned about the safety of Cerulean in the coming winds.    We shared the pontoon with three other boats including a family of 4 and dog on a 28ft yacht and a 47ft Swan – a privately owned training yacht called Saga adventure sailing with the very experienced owner, Christian, and two lovely guests on board.

The winds arrived later that day so we doubled up our mooring lines and fenders as Cerulean strained, bounced and was thrown against the lines and pontoon.  The mooring lines creaked under the pressure as we hunkered below deck sheltering from the wind and rain. 

Holyhead is the largest town in Anglesey and has the appearance of a forgotten settlement with large derelict buildings on the headland and tired looking houses in the narrow streets leading to a small, unattractive town centre. The only saving grace of Holyhead, in my humble opinion, is the beautiful surrounding countryside.

After four days in Holyhead, thankfully a weather window appeared.   We were concerned about the sea state and watching a boat try to leave the marina and being thrown around in the heavy seas and wind, it was a valid concern.   We intended to leave for Milford Haven in the morning but on waking up to heavy rain and the sound of wind whistling through the rigging, we stayed inour warm bed and reconsidered our departure.   Two of our mooring lines had broken during the night and we soon learned that the other boats had lines that had suffered the same fate.  The boat next to us, Saga, was also heading south and had delayed their departure until early evening so, after reviewing the weather again, we decided to leave with them and buddy sail through the night.

At 5pm we followed Saga out of Holyhead harbour and into the rolling sea which was slowly calming down.  Earlier we had walked along the seawall and had waves crashing over our heads, but fortunately the winds had eased and with it, the waves were smaller.   We had raised the reefed  main in the shelter of the harbour and as soon as we were clear of the wall, we unfurled the smaller of our two headsails, our staysail, and once we felt confident the boat would cope with the bigger yankee sail, unfurled that too and the boat settled into a comfortable speed.

This was the start of one of the most memorable sails I have had to date.   The conditions were perfect – beautiful sunset, full moon, steady wind, following seas, favourable tide when it counted, wind in the right direction and the benefit of company as we watched shooting stars in the clear skies.   A Swan yacht is a beautiful design, considered to be the ultimate oceangoing cruising and performance boat.  We had expected that Saga would quickly  leave us behind but much to our delight, we were able to keep pace with them.  I took the first four hour watch from 10pm – 2am and opted to hand steer the whole time as I was loving the conditions under the bright starry sky, keeping an eye on Saga’s red mast light about a mile out to sea.  If I could see their white light, I’d know they were ahead of us, so I was focused on making sure we kept their red light in view.   At 2.30am we put the autohelm on and I went below to try to sleep but the adrenalin rush, noises from above and rolling of the boat, kept me awake most of the four hours, wrapped in warm blankets in our snug berth.  I rejoined Steve on deck at 7.00am as the sun was about to come up, and was surprised to see Saga right beside us.  Very impressive after 12hours of sailing to be less than half a mile from each other.

The wind had dropped and with a tide against us, our speed had slowed from the 6-8knots we had been achieving, to less than 4knots.  During the night our top speed had been 12.2knots and we were averaging between 6.5 – 7.2knots per hour – doesn’t sound fast when compared to America Cup boats, but considering we estimate on 5knots being our average speed, an increase of 2knots per hour means over a 12 hour period, we can reduce our journey time by nearly 5hrs.  

Saga took a different course to us – a much better decision than mine, and one I punished myself for afterwards as they beat us into Milford Haven by a considerable time!   We remained on our course and enjoyed the company of a very large pod of playful dolphins who remained with us for over an hour.   We could see dolphins all around us and more seemed to be rushing towards Cerulean to play in our bow wave or weave in our wake before we altered course and headed towards Milford Haven.    

The brilliance of the night sail was enhanced by a beautiful day with clear blue skies and a lovely sail into the large protected harbour, completing 140 miles in 23hours.  We were tired, but very happy as we dropped the anchor in a quiet, sheltered bay where we rested before preparing for another long sail the next day which, although we didn’t know it at the time, would become equally memorable for very different reasons!

The full deck – Ireland and Highlands

Neither of us had slept well on our last night in Strangford Lough.   I had strange and vivid dreams where I was in a number of situations outside my control while Steve was restless and kept checking on the mooring buoy lines.  

Several people had shared their experiences of being met with large crashing waves as they left the Lough entrance and had been swept perilously close to rocks and these stories were whirling round my head in the early hours of the morning.    Our journey started at 4:30am in a gentle breeze with a little cloud and no moon as we made our way up the river in the pitch dark.   We both peered ahead of us, trying to see whether we could make out the white foam of any crashing waves as we drew closer to the Lough entrance.  

The sky was getting light as we reached the first buoy marking the entrance and much to our relief, the sea looked calm and winds were as forecast in a direction that was perfect for our sail north.    We motored clear of any rocks and then hoisted the sails taking advantage of the northerly running current as we made excellent speed up the coast.    I was in my very happy space again – the three sails trimmed, making eight knots while hand steering close to the shore, watching cars meander along the coastal road taking their passengers to start their day.   I felt enormously privileged as we watched the sun rise over the sea and enjoyed the warmth of its early heat as we sped along in our small home to discover new places.

My niece, Fay, lives in Donaghadee, which is at the end of a long headland at the mouth of Belfast Lough.  We waved towards land as we cruised by, in the vague hope she may see us before catching up with her later in the week!   A group of islands lie off the headland and we cut through Donaghadee Sound to get into Belfast Lough.   The current was at full strength against us and we could not stem the tide under sail, so furled the jibs and powered up the engine.   With wind and tide against us, the sea became quite choppy and as we made our way down the main channel into the busy port of Belfast, we negotiated the heavy traffic coming into and out of the city while monitoring the port radio. 

The long channel of the Lough became less choppy as we entered the protected city harbour and we passed the large docks and container ships as we motored further into the harbour until the channel split into three and we took the middle option, continuing to the marina in Queens Quay.   The small marina is relatively new and operates on a first-in-first-served basis.  We were under the false impression that, as we had “booked” space, we would have a berth reserved for us.  This was not the case, but fortunately there was plenty of room and we moored side on to a pontoon before purchasing a “pay and display” ticket to display in our cabin window.   The facilities were excellent with access to a “lounge area” with free showers, internet, laundry and comfortable seating.   In addition the marina is walking distance from Belfast city centre and alongside the excellent Titanic Museum.   Apart from the noise and bright street lighting from being in the city centre, we loved the marina – and the cheapest one we have found – by far.

The Titanic was designed and built in Belfast and the Titanic Museum tracks the design process, build, launch, personalities and fateful journey of the ship and passengers.   We spent a really interesting few hours touring the museum and getting immersed in the lives of the designers, architects and builders of this iconic ship.   It was fascinating to see photographs, letters, re-created cabins and a walk through of the different levels/classes of the ship.  

Belfast is a wonderful city, full of beautiful sculptures, a great mix of modern and historic buildings and pedestrianised areas.  I loved it. 

It became clear, after talking to other yachties, that our intentions to continue sailing around Ireland was not going to be possible due to the continued Covid restrictions in the South.   As Scotland is visible from Northern Ireland and only a short sail, we decided to complete the full set of UK countries and head for the West Coast. 

My parents introduced me and my sisters to sailing when we were very young.  Every weekend from Spring to Autumn was spent at a sailing club and all of us have continued with the passion our parents encouraged us to learn and participate in.   My sister, Lynn, and I spent many summers sailing around the West Coast of Scotland with mum and dad and I have wonderful memories of special times exploring the beautiful islands.   My parents loved the sailing so much, they moved to Tighnabruaich on the Kyles of Bute and lived very happily there for 30 years until they both passed away within 11 months of each other a few years ago.   My parents would’ve been so encouraging and excited for our adventure, so it seemed very fitting to take Cerulean to the Kyles of Bute to honour their memory.

After spending a lovely few days with my niece, Fay (who is pregnant with her second child) and Isla, we set off early one morning in winds of about 20knots and headed for Stranraer in Loch Ryan.   The faint outline of the Scottish hills were visible as we headed North East, soon we could make out large turbines on the hills, followed by shapes of buildings and eventually colours were added to the mix of scenery slowly unfolding in front of us.   We dropped the anchor in a very sheltered bay and set off early the next morning for a 43mile sail to the Isle of Arran in the Firth of Clyde where we picked up a free mooring buoy in Brodick on the east side of the island.   My parents loved Arran, which was visible from their house, and was a favourite destination for them to sail to, so I was excited to be there, 40 years after my last visit!  

We spent a few glorious days exploring Brodick with its castle on one side of the bay, overlooking the small town.  The weather was sunny and warm – Steve even went for a quick dip in the sea, announcing this would be the last swim of the season – I was very impressed but I’m not so sure he would’ve been so quick to jump in if he’d seen the size of the jellyfish that swam past the boat later!

We had a lovely sail to Lochranza, in the north of Arran and visited the Isle of Arran whisky distillery where we had a tasting and introduction to the distilling process.  I have never been a huge fan of whisky, but learned a lot and can see that I could easily develop a taste for it – so much so that we spent a fortune on a bottle, just in case we needed it for medicinal purposes, of course!

The sail to Kames, in the Kyles of Bute, was magical for so many reasons.   I was excited about being back in very familiar surroundings, emotional about honouring my parents and looking forward to catching up with old family friends.   The weather was excellent with a good wind and, as we made our way down the Kyles, another boat raced us as we both travelled at over 8knots – well, I’m not sure the other boat knew it was a race but I believe two boats on the water constitutes one!   We won, dropping our sails as we came level with The Kames Hotel and picked up one of their free mooring buoys.  The familiar houses and scenery of my parents home town stretched out in front of us and I felt a mixture of sadness, happiness and impatience to get ashore! 

Our time in Kames and Tighnabruaich was incredibly special for me.  There were times I was quite overwhelmed with emotion, particularly when we were moored below my parents’ old home.  We met a number of mum and dad’s friends from the village, caught up with the lovely couple who bought their house, had a delicious meal at The Royal Hotel in Tighnabruaich (we had moved to one of their free mooring buoys so wanted to say thank you!), and had a wonderful lunch with mum and dad’s dear friends, Renee and Colin, in their garden after availing ourselves of their shower and washing machine!

To make our visit even more special, I had arranged a video catch up with mum’s brother, Michael and Bronwyn.  Michael had recently been discharged from hospital following an operation and was poorly but interested in our adventures and where we were.  We spent a lovely 15 minutes chatting, sadly this would be our last conversation as Michael passed away a few days later.

Leaving Tighnabruaich was hard but it also soothed a few raw emotions I had been harbouring.  My father, at least, once shared a similar dream of sailing across oceans.  They fulfilled some of that dream by sailing their 27ft yacht, Scapha, to the Azores before GPS and reliable weather forecasting – an incredible achievement I have huge admiration and respect for.  Cerulean is luxurious compared to Scapha and they would have encouraged and relished our adventure.   As Renee said to me, they would have had bunting flying in their garden to welcome us to the Kyles if they had been alive.   To hear that and be able to meet their friends, drink coffee on their neighbours balcony in the shadow of their former home and experience Tighnabruaich at its glorious best, was hugely therapeutic for me.   It was now time to put the Kyles behind us and start our long passage back south before the weather deteriorated, as summer was well and truly over and the cold of autumn was starting to bite!

The Friendly Isles

Each successful long passage increases our confidence in our planning skills having now negotiated a number of tricky tides and accessed harbours and marinas with very narrow entrances which have limited times of entry, dependant on the height of the tide.

We received a warm welcome from the other yachties in the marina, several of whom had horror stories of their passages to Ardglass or entrance into the marina.  We felt thankful our arrival had been a little more sedate, although stressful enough!  

Ardglass is a very small fishing village with a beautiful golf course that dominates the cliff top and, judging by the famous golfers who have played the course, must be a particularly challenging one.  The clubhouse is a beautiful building dating back to the 1400’s and gives a spectacular entrance to the course and village.   We walked through the village in 10 minutes, taking in the ruined castle and other lovely old buildings as we braced ourselves against the wind blowing off the Irish Sea.

After we were rested from our overnight passage we decided to head a few miles north to Strangford Lough.  Access to Strangford Lough is only possible at slack or incoming tide as the narrow entrance causes a strong current with whirlpools and shallow rapids to add to the mix of obstacles to avoid.   We had a fast sail to the entrance and arrived as the tide was turning in our favour.   We motored through the narrow channel, being swept along at speeds of over 11knots by the incoming tide.   A very odd feeling, particularly when trying to turn into a bay and sliding sideways at great speed, before being thrown out of the current and gliding into the bay.   A pod of porpoises welcomed us as we left the main and channel and we headed to Quoyle – a beautiful quiet anchorage in the south west arm of the lough.  We were surrounded by birdsong and a seal popped up to check us out before slowly disappearing again into the clear waters.

From the boat we could see a large standing stone on the top of a hill so we rowed ashore and went to investigate.    The stone stood in a field at the top of a hill with a wonderful view of the Lough and surrounding countryside.  These words were beside the stone:

“When most people see a megalith (standing stone) they wonder why it was erected. 

In Madagascar, where megaliths were apart of the culture until the 19 Century, King Andrianampoinimerina said that working together to quarry and transport a stone is proof of mutual friendship and contributes to happiness.

In 1995, a group of local people decided to continue this ancient tradition and bring 1000 young people together to celebrate the start of a new millennium by pulling up the 1000cm high Strangford Stone. 

They hoped, as the peace process was gathering momentum, to involve young people from all backgrounds in Northern Ireland to celebrate a lasting testament to a shared future”

The stone overlooks the peaceful and beautiful landscape of Strangford Lough and seemed a very fitting place to have a stone that represented peace in a place that has seen so much anger and destruction over the years.  

We had been offered the use of a mooring buoy in Ballyhenry which was a short walk from Portaferry, near the entry to the Lough, where there is a small town, mandatory ruined castle, marina and yacht club.   After negotiating the tidal stream again, we picked up the buoy and went ashore to explore.  

Portaferry is built along the waterfront and has a ferry regularly taking cars and passengers across the tidal stream to Strangford.  The powerful ferry glides and skids across the stream at regular intervals.  We arranged to meet my niece, Fay with her gorgeous 2yr old daughter, Isla and spent a lovely few hours exploring Strangford and Castle Ward, a large imposing stately home built in the 1760’s with lawns rolling down to the Lough.  The buildings were used as the location for Winterfell in Game of Thrones and have become a popular visitors centre, although we virtually had the place to ourselves when we were there.   

We caught the ferry back to Portaferry with Fay and Isla where they dropped us off in town.   It was still early so we decided to check out the sailing club as there had been racing earlier.  

We were welcomed into the bar and soon met a number of members who regaled us with sailing stories and then invited us to the prize giving for the races which had taken place earlier that day.   The prize giving turned out to be over a meal of soup, bread and Guinness and, in true Irish style, none of the sailors who had won were present, so there was no prizegiving! 

We spent a lovely evening talking, drinking, laughing, being given a tour of the large clubhouse and making new friends, eventually rolling out the doors in the dark and rowing back to the boat.

After a few days on our borrowed mooring we had a lovely sail further up the western side of the Lough to Sketrick.  A call to the sailing club proved worthwhile and we were given a free mooring for the night.   We had just picked up the mooring when a couple came over to welcome us to the area and offered to drive us to the shops if we needed provisions.  This was followed a short time later by a fisherman who was interested in the boat and again asked if we needed anything.   We just love the friendliness, warmth and genuine interest we receive as we travel, but particularly here.

While in Sketrick we made contact with a woman I had been messaging through a facebook group “Women Who Sail”.   Hannah and her husband, Daniel, had met in New Zealand and lived on board their yacht for many years.   On a visit to Daniels family in Sketrick, they decided to buy a house on the Lough with a boatramp and boathouse and reluctantly sold their boat in NZ.   We visited them at home and spent a lovely few hours with them. 

Our final stop in Strangford Lough was Killyleagh.  We had met Barry and Jo at Portaferry Yacht Club and, on ringing them, they kindly arranged for us to pick up a mooring buoy close to the sailing club slipway.  On arriving at the sailing club there were large security gates preventing us from walking to town but, following a few conversations we were lent a security card, on the understanding we would return it in a few hours.   The Irish are wonderful people – I love their willingness to help and eagerness to talk.

Killyleagh is a beautiful village, dominated by a 12th century fairy-tale castle which would not look out of place in a Disney movie!     The castle has been owned by the Hamilton family since the 17th Century and is Irelands oldest inhabited castle.  The approach to the castle is up a gentle hill with lovely old houses, shops, cafes and pubs lining the street on both sides.   The entrance to the castle is a large arched gatehouse which was open allowing views of the castle and gardens.  There was a lovely sign saying the gates were open so people could enjoy the view but asked for respect as this was a private house.    A lovely gesture and so unusual in these days of high security and putting up big fences so only the privileged have access to historic buildings.

As we walked back towards our dinghy we said hello to a man sitting on his front porch looking after his grandson.  We soon realised the man we were talking to, Clive, was Barry’s father and it was Clive who had organised our mooring for us.   The young boy was Barry and Jo’s son.   After a short talk, Clive asked us where we were heading next and on hearing we were going to Belfast he told us his brother, Mark was Harbour Master at the marina.   Without another word he picked up his phone and called Mark, telling him we would be arriving the next day and booking a space for us in the marina.   With that we went on our way, loving Killyleagh even more!   Our final act before going back to the boat was to return the security card which we did with great appreciation for the trust and hospitality we were given. 

While we had been in Strangford Lough we had tried to sort out the issue we were having with our chartplotter.  We made contact with Billy, who had fixed our autohelm when we were in Falmouth.   Billy suggested a way to fix it which seemed to resolve the problem, but caused another one.  While trying to fix this problem the memory card with the UK charts became corrupted and, after several calls to Navionics, they agreed it needed to be exchanged.   Our problem was we were going to be nowhere for long enough to get a new one sent and, without returning it to Milford Haven, where we had purchased it, we would have to make do with our other chartplotter until a later date.

We had an early start the next day as we needed to make sure we were at the start of the tidal stream at high tide.  This meant we could catch the tide going north as we exited Strangford Lough.  However, as our pilot guide stated, and was confirmed by someone I was in touch with on a sailing group, you have no idea what the conditions of the Irish Sea are like until you are out of the channel and then it’s too late to turn back as the strong tidal stream is against you.   Neither of us talked as we made our fast passage down the channel, not knowing what conditions we would face as we were spat out at the other end.

Navigating tides and winds in Wales

When we left you last time, we were in the middle of the Bristol Channel and this is where you find us, in the dark, in the middle of the night with no wind and reducing visibility.   I noticed on our GPS system at the helm that we were crossing a big red line on the electronic chart, and announced to Steve that we must be crossing over Coastguard boundaries from Falmouth to Milford Haven, although I didn’t recall seeing a similar boundary when we had changed jurisdictions before.   It was only when we zoomed in on the chart that we realised the boundary we had reached was not for the coastguard, but it was the limits of the charts installed on the plotter.   We had assumed that, as we had the electronic charts that covered the south coast of the UK, we would be covered for the whole of the UK – this was obviously not the case and we had just sailed over the limits of our electronic charts.  Fortunately we have two alternative electronic plotters, and paper charts as back up, so we were not in danger, but it did affect some of our electronic software – including AIS receiver which allows us to see and identify approaching ships and boats and know exactly where they are in relation to us.   Luckily we also have radar and could still see the boats on radar and be confident we knew where they were – essential when sailing at night, in the fog, with little visibility!!!

We approached Milford Haven while it was still dark, having motor sailed for 4hrs.  The fog was still quite thick so we decided to slow down and wait until we could at least see an outline of land, before attempting to enter the busy port.    One of the few things we could see were birds – lots sitting on the water and as we approached they dived down en masse and didn’t reappear within our vision.   A quick search of our bird book identified them as Razorbills.  Lots of Guillemots were flying in a straight line together, often diving in unison from great heights into the water ahead of us. 

As the sky grew lighter we could make out the cliffs bounding the entrance to Milford Haven and, with a large ship fast approaching behind us, we decided to take the well marked, wide and deep channel into the harbour and dropped the anchor in one of the first bays we came across to get some rest and wait for the visibility to improve.

The anchorage we had chosen proved to be very exposed, so after a short sleep we poked our heads out of the cabin to find a very unattractive view of oil terminals, shipping containers and an industrial landscape topped off with a large swell and rain.   We decided to dive for cover and move to a more sheltered bay further up the river and spent the next couple of days exploring the area in peaceful anchorages surrounded by lush green countryside and trees.   Neyland Marina has an excellent chandlery (shop selling boat gear) so we took the opportunity to update our charts on our plotter!

The weather forecast was not great and a large storm with big winds was expected to arrive at the end of the week, so we decided to aim to be in a marina by Wednesday evening to make sure we escaped the worst of the predicted 50knt winds.   The only problem is, Wales does not have an over abundance of marinas, or sheltered anchorages which are accessible to a boat that has a 1.9m keel!  We did a short jump to Skomer – a small protected island which is a birdwatchers paradise and with evidence of human habitation dating back to 1200BC.  I was excited about being there and we picked up a mooring buoy in the small bay after passing through a narrow, rocky passage called Jacks Sound, with full sails up and a strong current in our favour while birds screamed around us!  

We jumped in the dinghy and headed towards the small beach.  We were met with a big unwelcoming sign – “No Landing” in front of a small hut.  On closer inspection we discovered the island was closed to visitors on a Monday (it was Monday!), and there were big fines if we ignored the notice.   Feeling disappointed but not wanting to be fined, we did a quick tour of the bay via the dinghy and returned to the boat where I birdwatched and enjoyed seeing the antics of a few large seals playing nearby.  

As rain set in, we deflated the dinghy and stored it on our deck in preparation for the next full day’s sail before heading to bed as we had to be up at 0445 to continue our sail north.   The weather had deteriorated and the once sheltered bay was now very exposed with a large swell coming in through the narrow entrance.   We had a very uncomfortable night bouncing around, listening to the wind and rain as we swung around the mooring buoy.   At one point during the night, a flash of realisation dawned on Steve – not knowing how well maintained the mooring buoy was, we had tied another line onto the buoy to be confident it would not break during the night.  The problem was, we needed the dinghy to get down to the mooring buoy to untie the line, and the dinghy was now deflated and carefully stored! 

At 0445 we were up and, before I knew what was happening, Steve handed me one end of a line with the other attached around him, and he dived into to the cold dark waters.  I was terrified – and that was just me! – holding a flashlight while Steve untied the line and returned to the safety of the boat.   What a champion!  

Outside the bay, the wind and seas were less confused and we hoisted the sails and headed NW in a SE wind.   The Bishops are a group of rocks we decided to give a wide berth instead of taking a narrow passage between them, aptly named The Bitches.  Considering we shot passed the small group of islands doing 10.2knts in less than 8knts of wind, I think we made the right decision! 

As we headed towards the sweeping bay of Port Cardigan we saw something floating in the water ahead of us.   Fearing it was an inflatable dinghy in trouble, we went to investigate.  As we approached the floating mass, it became clear it was a carcass of a sea creature, although we could not be certain of what sort.   It was white and too big to be a dolphin so we guessed it may have been a pilot whale.   We reported our sighting to the coastguard and continued into Port Cardigan to find a sheltered anchorage for the night. 

Since leaving Cornwall, we have seen very few other yachts on the water and are regularly the only boat in anchorages so choosing the right location takes research and careful consideration of the weather, tides, type of seabed (to know whether anchor will hold) and direction/protection of sea swell.  Often, when other boats are in a bay, you can normally expect others have also done research and give confidence to your conclusions but when you are the only boat around, there is always a nagging doubt and question whether we have got it right!   Fortunately, after three failed anchoring attempts where the anchor would not take a firm hold, we managed to find a good spot which proved ideal and gave us a calm, sheltered anchorage meaning we both slept well.

Our day started early again as we needed to arrive in the marina at Aberystwyth by 1030 and we had 30 miles to cover with winds on the nose.   Leaving at 0500 we put the autohelm on and sheltered from the rain in the cabin while keeping a good lookout and listening to the coastguards regular weather warnings announcing a severe storm approaching within the next 12 hours.    Entrance into the narrow harbour is restricted to three hours either side of high tide and we were aiming to arrive within one hour of high tide to ensure the current was not too strong.   As we lined up our approach between the small harbour entrance, the marina manager rang to inform us he was removing a large tree which had been washed down the river into the marina and the narrow entrance may be further reduced if we met him in the approach!   As we made our final approach and negotiated the entrance between the seawalls we had to turn 90 degrees to stay in the main channel and this was where we encountered the tree and the marina manager, John!    Fortunately, after much waving of arms and directing us over to one side of the channel, we squeezed passed each other and were relieved when our lines were secured in the visitors berth when we could relax knowing we had somewhere safe to wait out the imminent storm.  

Mist-ical Penzance and Autohelm Success!

As we left the Isles of Scilly we had a 60NM journey ahead of us to sail back to Falmouth where we were having some more work done on our autohelm – hopefully to fix it once and for-all!   We decided to test out Hilda The Hydrovane (NB:  Steve hates this name, so it may well change later in our travels!).   We were slightly dubious whether Hilda would cope, as the instructions for setting her up and using her were so simple we could not believe it really would be that easy.   If all worked well, all we needed to do was set the sails, balance the boat, tie off the helm and relinquish control to Hilda.  The advantage of using the Hydovane instead of an autopilot is Hilda operates using none of our precious power, she just reads the wind. 

It was blowing up to 20knots with a bit of a swell, but we decided to give Hilda a go.   Much to our surprise and joy, Hilda excelled!   It really was that simple! She held a steady course, keeping the sails filled while we sat back and sheltered from the wind and occasional wave that came crashing over the bow.  In total contrast to the journey out where we hand steered all the way and arrived tired after being at sea for 12hrs, Hilda averaged 6.2knots and sped us back to Falmouth in 10hrs, giving us time to relax and enjoy the journey while keeping a good lookout for other traffic.  

We found a lovely sheltered anchorage in Helford River and decided to wait there until we knew BT Marine had time to sort out the autopilot.  While waiting we decided to investigate why our grey tank pump had stopped working.   On Cerulean all water which goes down the drain, goes into a grey water tank before it is then pumped overboard.  This isn’t normally a problem as we always operate the pump and empty the tank while on passage.  However, when the pump stopped working and the tank filled up, it was a problem!   We rolled up our sleeves and took off the inspection cover on the tank.   Years of build up of fat and congealed soap was stuck to the side, bottom and pipes of the tank.   Using our hands and a large bucket we scooped up numerous bucket loads of the gooey, smelly sludge which must have built up over many years.   It was a disgusting job but very rewarding when, once clean and put back together, the pump worked perfectly, in fact better than it had before!   We were rewarded with a (much needed) hot shower!

The next day was Thursday and we had a call from BT Marine confirming they could remove our autopilot computer later than day, so we headed into Falmouth and met up with Chris, the engineer.  It only took 30 minutes for Chris to remove the computer and take it away to update the software.  As he left Chris told us there was no way they would be able to refit it until after the weekend.  While we understood how busy they were, I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed as we were hoping to leave Falmouth at the weekend.  Resigned to staying put, we picked up a mooring buoy and went to stay with Bea and Andy again while I sat my final exam for my YachtMasters qualification.  

Next day we celebrated me passing by returning our big bag of (now clean) laundry to the boat and, much to our surprise and appreciation, picked up Chris who re-installed and re-calibrated our auto-pilot which now seemed to be working perfectly.   A huge relief and we were very grateful that BT Marine were able to shuffle some other jobs around to accommodate us.  

We left Bea and Andy’s again and, with full diesel tanks, full water tanks and lots of provisions, headed up The River Fal to wait for a good weather window to start heading south again ready for our next big trip. 

We motored up the river towards Truro passing large stately homes with manicured lawns sloping down to the rivers edge.   Trees lined the river as it gently wound its way north.  Several rivers flowed off the River Fal and we anchored between two tributaries tucked in close to the shore in a secluded spot surrounded by trees, birdsong and clear, calm water.   It was a perfect place to give Steve time to heal his strained back and to celebrate my birthday.

We spent two perfect days in the anchorage doing very little except resting, reading and soaking up the sun in a couple of hammocks we attached on the forward deck.   A small, pure white, Egret stood, statue-like on the banks of the river close to us and large herons would swoop in and disturb its peace every now and then – that was the most activity we saw for two days!

With a good weather window approaching, we motored out of the River Fal and set our course for Penzance.  The auto pilot worked well and gave freedom for both of us to confidently move out of the cockpit and focus on other things while the boat continued to head in the set direction.

Penzance is located in the far south west of Cornwall and appears to be a forgotten corner of England.  It has a walled off harbour which dries out at low tide, and an inner “wet” harbour which opens its gates 1hour before, until 1 hour after, high tide.  Space in the wet harbour is limited with yachts and fishing boats rafting up beside each other in a fairly tight space.   We arrived after the gates had closed so chose our preferred option of anchoring near by.  We try to avoid paying mooring fees, which has proofed difficult in Cornwall.   The Duke of Cornwall (Prince Charles) takes a levy from yachts anchoring or mooring in most bays and rivers in Cornwall.  Fortunately that doesn’t apply in Penzance so we dropped the hook in 5m of water close to the seawall, between Penzance and neighbouring port, Newlyn.   Our anchorage looked across the bay to St Michaels Mount and we could just pick out the castle on top of the Mount as we enjoyed sundowners and soaked up our new environment.

I love arriving at a new destination and getting familiar with our new vista while having the familiarity of being in our home.  It’s an odd feeling waking up in a familiar bed but with a different view out the window to enjoy.  We had breakfast in the cockpit watching morning swimmers getting their daily exercise as they swam between buoys in front of us, occasionally one would swim over to where we were anchored and pass comment on us being a long way from home!

We went ashore and walked through Penzance, getting lost in the narrow streets with old stone houses lining each road.  The weather had deteriorated and a thick fog gave the town a mystical, although damp, feel reminiscent of Poldark or French Lieutenants Woman.  We also explored Newlyn which I loved – more of a community, old Cornwall feel to it than Penzance and hasn’t been spoiled by tacky touristy shops selling cheap rubbish in the belief that visitors lose any once of taste they may have had before they arrived in the place!

We remained the only boat anchored in the sweeping bay and, as the fog continued to linger we decided to stay until the forecast improved.  The anchorage was comfortable without too much of a swell and the hold was good, so we felt confident the anchor would not drag if the wind did get up.  After three days a moderate weather window opened up and we started planning our departure.  Our next journey would take us around Lands End and continue north across the Bristol Channel to Wales.   As this was our first over night passage we wanted to make sure the conditions were kind for an enjoyable experience.

As we left Penzance dolphins once again joined us – we have been so surprised by the number of dolphins we have seen – one pod that joined us and played in our bow wave, had four babies – one very young – that entertained and delighted us for some time.  As the afternoon wore on the fog descended again and we found ourselves alone in the middle of the channel with little wind, no visibility and a damp mist surrounding us.

Scilly Times

Our passage west from Dartmouth was exactly what we needed to re-establish our confidence and commitment to our adventure and decisions.   Our original intention was to sail to Plymouth but with perfect weather conditions and the wind direction in our favour, we made excellent time and decided to keep heading west to the small harbour settlement of Fowey (pronounced Foy).   It was a perfect sail with sunshine, blue sky and dolphins that farewelled us from Dartmouth and welcomed us to Fowey.   We completed the 50NM trip in 9.5 hours, hand steering all the way as the autohelm was still not playing nice with us!  

Fowey is another beautiful town with a rich maritime history.   From as early as the 5th century Fowey supplied monarchs with ships and soldiers.  In the 14th century the town sent 29 ships and three-quarters of its population to fight for the monarch against France.  However, they refused to give up their pirate ways after peace was declared and started putting the newly agreed truce at risk.  A messenger was sent from London to the town from the king, stating “I am at peace with my brothers in France”.  This was not received well in Fowey, and the locals defiantly cut off the messengers ears and nose before returning him to a very unhappy King Edward IV!  More recently Fowey was immortalised as a backdrop to the book, Wind in the Willows and Daphne Du Maurier lived here for many years.

The attractive harbour has Fowey on one side and the town of Polruan on the other.   Both settlements have old houses built on a hillside, down to a small port on either side of the river.  To me, it is a typical Cornish setting with a backdrop of mature trees and patchwork fields.   I loved it!

The harbour master directed us to a mooring buoy close to the busy main channel where boats packed with masked tourists came within arms length of us at regular intervals until the sun went down.   While enjoying a sundowner on deck a couple passed close to us in their tender, slowed down, spent some time eyeing up Cerulean and yelled out to me, “She is BEAUTIFUL!”  I felt like someone had just complimented me on my offspring, and my chest puffed out in pride!

Next morning we had a slow start and left on high tide in calm SE winds.   Once again we had a great sail with dolphins joining us as we continued our journey west, this time just a short sail of 20NM to Falmouth.   We felt a huge sense of achievement sailing into Falmouth, which had been our ultimate destination when we left Gosport 12 days earlier, having survived a near sinking, learnt a lot about our boat, explored new harbours and growing in confidence as we settled into our new life on the water.    We were both surprised at how easily we have adapted and how comfortable Cerulean is to live on.

Andy came to collect us from the Royal Yacht Club who had given us permission to store our dinghy for a few days.  We were whisked off to my sisters beautiful home in Falmouth where we spent a relaxing and wonderful time enjoying Bea and Andy’s company, fresh garden produce, amazing views and access to laundry facilities!!!  

While in Falmouth we replaced all the reefing lines which were old and several of them had become untied and were lost in the boom.  For those non-sailors reading this must sound like another language, but in short, when the wind is strong, you don’t want to have a full sail up, so reefing allows you to make your sail smaller.  Our system is called “Single line reefing” which means we can make the main sail smaller without leaving the safety of the cockpit.   We had been using just one of the reefing points and decided to replace the system for one that had less friction, giving us easier control when we needed it.    

The riggers had just left when a large black inflatable came alongside with three very serious looking uniformed personnel who identified themselves as border patrol and asked if they could come on board.   They were interested to know why we had a New Zealand registered boat when it was obvious from her name – Cerulean of Penryn – she was from the UK.   After showing all the boat papers, passports, sailing certificates and confirming our plans, they were quite happy to sit and talk to us for a while before leaving us with a request to be their eyes and ears and to report if we see anything suspicious…….

After a wonderful week with Bea and Andy, a good weather window opened up and we decided to make the most of an easterly wind and head for The Isles of Scilly – a 60NM sail South West to the low lying group of islands, approx 30NM off Lands End. 

We spent the night before departure in Helford River where Bea and Andy joined us for dinner in the local pub.  At 5.30 the next morning we headed out of a glassy Helford River watching a large pod of small dolphins feeding in the bay as Gannets dived around them.   As we rounded The Manacles, we set the sails and made the most of the easterly winds, making between 6-8knots as we sped towards The Lizard – the most Westerly point of the UK mainland with notorious currents.   

More dolphins – this time much larger – joined us as we continued West to The Scillies.  We passed Sunfish lazing on top of the water as we savoured the downwind sailing, crossing the shipping channel before catching the first sight of the islands.

There is something magical about arriving at a new destination by sea and watching as the faint outline of the distant land draws slowly into focus until rock formations, trees and buildings can be clearly defined.   We timed our arrival perfectly to make use of favourable currents as we entered the narrow channel that runs between two of the islands – St Marys and Gugh (rhymes with Hugh).  

It is thought The Isles of Scilly were named in Roman times after the sun god, Sulis and the islands are scattered with ancient monuments and relics from many centuries.  With a population of just over 2,000 living on five of the 140 islands, it really is a special place and we felt very privileged to have been able to get here.    The beaches are littered with large, colourful rocks of granite, scattered over white sand and falling into the clear, cold water.    The hillsides are covered in purple heather and bracken with large blocks of rock piled on top of each other, resembling a lost game of Jenga!  

Over the next few days we explored different islands – St Agnes, Gugh, Tresco and Bryher.  Each place had its own unique beauty and landscape from patchwork fields with shelterbelts made up of NZ natives; friendly, inquisitive birds who were happy to share a seat without demanding food; seals lazily lounging on seaweed while sunning themselves in the afternoon heat; amazing sunsets in front of a solitary castle on the headland and views that reminded me of The Bay of Islands with numerous small uninhabited outlying islands stretching out infront of us.    We loved our time visiting these special islands.

After five days on the islands, it was time to leave while the winds were favourable and before some nasty weather was due to hit.   We left with 20knots of wind blowing us back to the mainland and as we picked up speed, two dolphins leapt out the water beside us.   If we can, we will return and explore some of the many other islands we didn’t have a chance to visit but for now we’re just happy we came and didn’t add to the over 500 recorded shipwrecks around these treacherous waters!