‘I sat for over an hour on my anchor seat just staring out to sea’

Having made it to Plymouth, Simon Ellis continues his three-month long mission to visit every bay, marina and harbour from Poole to the Isles of Scilly

With my eldest daughter, Beth, and her two friends staying on board for the next few days, I was hoping for some favourable weather to ease our journey west. The day started with overcast skies but as there was little wind to trouble us, and the promise of sun to follow later, we were keen to get underway as soon as possible. Our aim was to reach Looe for lunch and then press on to Fowey for the night.

The lock at Queen Anne’s Battery was on free-flow when we departed at 1000, leaving just the swinging bridge to negotiate. As we approached it, that swung open too and within minutes we were out at sea once again.

With the engines spinning at a gentle 1,000rpm and 1.5 knots of tide pushing our speed over ground up to 6 knots, we made the most of the conditions to drink in the scenery for just over an hour before raising the speed up to 20 knots for the final 7nm to Looe.

Dropping the hook opposite Banjo Pier, we fired up the BBQ for a brunch of good old bacon sarnies. We had the bay to ourselves, and as the overcast skies gave way to sun, things warmed up nicely. Even the sea temperature nudged past 16°C, the point at which I’m prepared to take a dip.

Two hours and a bracing swim later, it was time to move on. We still had some tidal assistance, taking our SOG up to 6.7 knots, so we chugged the remaining 10nm to Fowey. The sedate pace and gentle rocking from the eerily calm sea meant my crew slept on the bow most of the way, while I chilled out at the helm, noting how much I enjoyed this displacement mode of travel.

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The entrance to Fowey gradually made itself visible as I reached my waypoint, taking care to keep well clear of the rocks. The harbour was relatively busy so I had to go quite far upstream to find a free berth on a mid-river pontoon. This meant no power or water, so after a spot of paddleboarding and exploring with the tender, I ferried the crew ashore to make use of the shoreside shower facilities as our 300-litre water tank had no chance of lasting for all four of us. Sadly, the facilities at the local sailing club were more yesterdecade than yesteryear!

A quick pint post-shower at the Havener’s didn’t prove quite as relaxing as I had hoped due to a direct hit from a seagull, so we headed back on board for a relaxed evening of drinks and dinner on a quiet mid-river pontoon.

Day 53 Tuesday 25 June

The next morning was amazing: no wind and the mercury already at 20°C. Summer had arrived and we soon had all the covers off. On the way in, I’d spotted the pretty-looking Lantic Bay. A chat with the harbourmaster confirmed it was a great spot to anchor, so long as I stayed well clear of the rocks on the west.

A quick blast to the bay revealed there were already some locals at anchor, providing further reassurance on where was safe. It was indeed a great location for brunch, sunbathing and a cooling 14.5°C swim; only slightly spoiled by the sweary rap my crew insisted on playing.

We returned a fraction after the 4pm threshold and once again were too late to find a walk ashore pontoon, settling instead for a different mid-river pontoon. We were helped alongside by a very friendly Dutch crew, who invited me on board for a tour of their beautiful 50ft yacht and a very entertaining chat. The evening ended with another excellent BBQ cooked by my new crew mates before tendering ashore for a few drinks at The Royal British Legion.

Day 54 Wednesday 26 June

This is how summer should be, another scorcher to enhance our return to QAB. After queuing to fill up the water tank, we chugged out of the River to find beautiful, glassy conditions.

We had about 20nm to cover, but given the weather, a day at anchor was calling, so I pushed the throttles down and rattled off the distance at a rapid 26 knots.

Unsure of where to drop the hook, I put a quick post on South Devon Boating Group’s Facebook page asking for local info on anchorages in Whitesand Bay. Within 10 minutes, I had a reply. Polhorn Cove, on the east side of the bay just around the headland of Plymouth Sound, was suggested.

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If we’d wanted to do that exact trip any faster, we’d have needed a helicopter

We arrived around noon to find a few boats already there, giving pointers for where to anchor. Although a sandy seabed, I thought I’d try out my tripping line for retrieving the anchor.

Oh my, we’d struck gold with this location. It could have been the Med. The sun was heating up nicely, the water was already past 17°C and we slipped into the usual anchorage activity of doing absolutely nothing except suncream, beer, lunch, swim, repeat. I sat for over an hour on my Heath-Robinson anchor seat (a long fender board perched on the guardrails) just staring out to sea, as the view was simply awesome.

When 6pm arrived, we cruised round to Queen Anne’s Battery, with Ella at the helm. Back on our previous pontoon location, my crew cooked up a final dinner prior to their morning departure.

Day 55 Thursday 27 June

The crew departed and soon after I was collected by my mate Squealer for a three day hockey festival near Amsterdam with my old university team. I squeezed in a quick boat trip through the Amsterdam canals before the tournament, and returned on Sunday afternoon to meet my wife Pamela back at QAB.

Day 59 Monday 1 July

We awoke to a brisk south-westerly wind, meaning it would be on our nose for the run to Falmouth.

We were due to rendezvous there with our friends Will and Cath for a week together exploring the Fal and the Isles of Scilly. I estimated the 45nm journey would take around two hours at planing speed, allowing a bit of leeway for the head seas.

Taking advantage of the discounted rate for MDL bertholders, we fuelled up and chugged slowly out into the Sound before opening up the throttles. Rounding Penlee Point, my planned 260° bearing to South of St Anthony’s Head was straight into the wind and the numerous white caps told me it was blowing at least a F4 – a little more than expected.

I steered a little further off course to take the waves at a more comfortable angle and then made regular tacks, sailing style, while maintaining our 26-knot cruising speed. There was still some slamming for the first 30 minutes, which caused a power trim dial to drop out of the fascia, and I was just mulling over a stop at Fowey when things settled down enough to keep on going for another 90 minutes.

Time has a habit of whizzing by when all your concentration is fixed on picking your way through the waves while keeping an eye out for pots and listening for any change in the engine noise. Pamela, meanwhile, focused on her book or dozed.

Before long, the log ticked past 48nm south of St Anthony’s Head. We came off the plane and soon secured a berth at Port Pendennis, docking just after noon. A reasonable journey given the conditions and my longest leg so far. What would have been daunting for me six weeks ago, I was now taking in my stride.

Will and Cath arrived about an hour later and we had the first of many celebratory toasts. Then it was time for a walk through Falmouth’s busy shopping area, pausing at The Boathouse Pub at the
top of the street for a much-needed pint.

Back on board, Will’s long arms made fixing the trim control back into the panel that much easier, and once sorted, we tucked into a big bowl of chilli and rice before crashing out for the night.

Day 60 Tuesday 2 July

With the first marina of the Fal ticked off, we headed straight up the estuary to Mylor Yacht Harbour. We made a small detour to explore up the Penryn River, past Flushing, to check out Falmouth Marina for future reference, before doubling back to Mylor where we were given a lovely berth, right at the marina entrance protected from the wind. I thought Poole harbour was big but the Fal estuary trumps it with dozens of different creeks and boats in their thousands.

We encountered a slight issue with shore power tripping the boat’s electrical system but a bit of teamwork soon tracked down a loose wire. Given the forecast, Pamela found a walk tracing the shoreline round to Flushing, ending at a lovely pub, the Harbour House.

In the event, the sun defied the forecast and came out to provide some beautiful views. Retracing our steps back to Mylor, we met up with Lucy, an old uni pal, and her partner Tim, who took us for a guided tour of the Fal in their RIB so we could scope out some anchorages before returning to our berth for sundowners and BBQ chicken.

Day 61 Wednesday 3 July

We woke up to grey skies but given the last two days we were hopeful the sun might return later. We decided to extend our stay another day and venture to the Pandora Inn at the entrance to Restronguet Creek. Setting off on foot after brunch, the views through Mylor Creek were beautiful and whilst the route looked straightforward enough on the map, by the time we arrived at Restronguet Creek my inner compass was totally disorientated.

What a superb location, though, with an amazing vista and the best beer garden ever – a floating pontoon with a large swan population. My knees requested a water taxi back to our boat, but at £40, my daily budget insisted on a slow and steady walk back home.

Day 62 Thursday 4 July

Another mixed forecast and a north-westerly suggested we might find some shelter at Towan beach outside the entrance of the Fal, but when this proved too windy, we moved to St Mawes and picked up a mooring. After lunch, we summoned a water taxi for a traditional cream tea at Tresanton Hotel and spent a delightful couple of hours exploring St Mawes and enjoying the hotel’s hospitality.

Finding a berth was getting more difficult now but we secured an inside berth at Falmouth Haven and enjoyed a relaxing evening followed by excellent tapas at Bodega 18.

Day 63-64 Friday 5 July

Will and Cath departed but I had to return to bed to get over a nasty 48-hour virus. I guess it was always going to happen at some point in my trip, but with wind and rain forecast for the next couple of days, at least I wasn’t missing out on any valuable cruising time.

Day 65 Sunday 7 July

New crew, Matt, arrived to replace Pamela, who left last night. The forecast for the start of the week was patchy but it looked like it might clear after that. I secured a berth at Falmouth Marina, the last of the four marinas on my tick list, and we chugged upstream in driving rain. By the time we’d docked, the sun was out again, so we wandered into town to check out the Maritime Museum.

We were immediately drawn to the very first Mirror dinghy, which way back in the 70s had provided a gateway into boating for both of us. I can remember fondly, as a seven-year-old, launching and retrieving our Mirror at Morfa Nefyn with my father.

After this trip down memory lane, the Chain Locker beer garden offered some refreshment and estuary views as well as shade from the now baking-hot sun. Back on board, we tucked into a G&T sundowner followed by homemade meatballs washed down with a nice St Emilion, matched only by the deep red skies of the setting sun.

Day 66 Monday 8 July

Another wet and windy day so we stayed put, tightened the lines, surfed the web, crawled a few pubs and waited for the weather to blow through. There was good news ahead, though, as the low-pressure front was moving on and a high-pressure window was opening.

Would this be my chance to reach the Isles of Scilly – the ultimate target of my three-month long sabbatical cruise? I was simultaneously buzzing with excitement and feeling butterflies in my stomach. With no proper marinas and limited mooring buoys, the Scillies are not somewhere you want to get stormbound. Only time would tell…

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