Fowey

Two days in Fowey. We are amazed we have time to do this, and that we have still accomplished quite a lot. The winds are looking much better on Friday for the return trip to Dartmouth, so rather than mess about around Plymouth, why not stay and enjoy Fowey – so we did.

Day 1 we took the dinghy into Fowey, no more than 300 yds. We had to see the Harbour Master to pay our dues and to do some shopping. We rediscovered the café we had been in a couple of years before; Pinky’s. Very quirky, great coffee and good internet. Then up river past the china clay wharf where they load the material onto large ships. A little ugly but, as Bob remarked, it is a working and profitable venture that bring life to the area – and an income other than tourism. There is a little muddy creek opposite where yachts can berth alongside a pontoon. Not much else there, other than a rather odd café with rather odd people. It seemed to be a café run by the owner for his mates. There was no one else there and no likelihood of anyone else being there – ever. We had a Doom Bar and retreated to the dinghy.

Back up the river and across the Polruan (Fowey's equivalent to Kingswear). It certainly is the scruffy side of the river but has a working shipyard busy servicing fishing boats and the like, and a couple of nice pubs. We had lunch in the Lugger and then walked up the hill to the castle (protecting the entrance to the harbour) and then on to the coast watch hut. This is a volunteer service that watches our coastline and passes information about incidents to the coast guard. A very nice gentlemen in there was on his 4 hr watch, knew our boat and told us very enthusiastically about the service they provide. All very worthwhile. He suggested we call him for a radio check as we leave Fowey and we will.

We walked back down the hill into Fowey watched some of the work on the fishing boats and then went back to Liquid Asset to read books, drink tea and generally do very little – this is what holidays should be about!

We watched the boats come in checking their buoy pick up techniques, had dinner – a massive fish pie – delicious, and then set about what cheese we had left on the boat.

Day 2 started early at 3:45 with the battery alarm. When the domestic batteries run low it sets off the alarm. We have to run the engine to charge them up, so obviously we had not fully charged them the night before. I was not going to start engines at this time of the morning, so I suppressed the alarm and went back to bed. It would not hurt.

At a more realistic time, 8 am, the crew roused. The first one up puts on the kettle for tea and this usually bring the remaining crew out of their cabins; we have got into a bit of habit!

A lovely sunny day; so we had breakfast on deck and considered our options. A walk was in order in the morning and some severe relaxing in the afternoon. We decided to explore the Fowey side a bit more. 

Fal to Fowey

We are now in cruising mode and visiting favourite haunts along the Cornish coast. Fowey is as delightful as the Fal for very different reasons. Fowey is like Dartmouth perhaps was 50 years ago, much less developed, but with a real buzz. Our passage to Fowey was really easy.

We motored down the Fal following a Bristol Channel Pilot Cutter, and new version of the design sailed by a Dutch couple but flying the red ensign. They were sailing, tacking back and forth across the river effortlessly but slowly. So we overtook once we got the chain ferry and left them well behind. As soon as we turned east we could sail, albeit very slowly on a lovely sunny and warm day, and set a course for Fowey.

There was a fisheries patrol vessel doing very little other than looking a little menacing. It deployed a rib from the stern and this sped off towards some fishermen in a boat. Not exactly a threat, but lots of fun for them.

Fowey eventually appeared on the beam and we motored slowly in. We had been told by fellow inhabiatants of the pontoon on the Fal that Fowey was empty. No so; we struggled to find a mooring buoy, but found one eventually tucked between a few other boats. We picked it up on the stern with  a line from the bow, and I think surprised a few of our neighbours who were watching for any mistake.

Once attached safely, we then watch the techniques of other approaching the mooring buoys. One approached at a great rate of knots seemingly intent on impaling the buoy in the bow; another had several attempts with one of those self threading jobs eventually with some success. Then we saw the right way to do it. A chap, obviously on his own, had a rope with a hook, motored up with buoy alongside and just hooked on. Job done.

The first thing to do when you arrive safely in port is to have a beer. We had some chilling in the fridge all day for this very purpose. Very nice. Next job was to go ashore and have a beer there (The Galleon Inn).

A none too stressful day. We decided we would stay the following day and explore a little. Bob cooked a spaghetti Bolognese unlike any I have ever had. We were rather short on the key ingredients. Really good. Watched some footy, David nodded off, and eventually went to bed.

Helford to Fal

We were all up at about 10; not too many hours sleep, but all feeling much better. A moderately quiet night in the river – rather more noise from the mooring lines in the fore-cabin – but slept thought it with no problem.

Today was a day or rest and recuperation for all. Our only plan was to visit the River Fal which is an idyllic spot visited on several previous visits. So we had breakfast (muesli) dropped the mooring lines and motored out of the one river heading for another. There was a good amount of wind so to make things more fun (and to dry out the sails) we sailed across the bay to the entrance to the Fal. The wind was I a good direction to sail up the river, although we would be headed further up, so with David at the helm and Bob and I managing the sails that’s what we did. The sun was out and with the boat heeled well over it was a complete contrast with the antics of the previous night.

In due course we dropped the sails and motored the rest of the way it becoming progressively more tranquil. The inhabitants of the river have changed. Many of the large ships previously moored up here – or mothballed – had gone replaced by small yachts and dinghies – much to the relief of the locals I am sure. Seemed a shame to spoil a beautiful river with forlorn looking boats.

Fal showing visitors pontoon (bottom), Malpass (top centre) and Truro (top left)

We arrived at our pontoon. Plenty of space. David took her in and the neighbours took a line. David had a chat with them to get some local knowledge; we needed a pub. Their suggestion was to take the rib up to Malpas, about a mile up the river where there was a nice pub (the Pelican) and if we wanted a supermarket then walk a couple of miles to Truro along the river. So that’s what we did.

Turned out the pub was the Heron. Malpas was a lovely quiet village. I thought it was further to Truro than two miles (turned out to be rather less than this), but it was good to get some exercise. Arriving in the outskirts of Truro walking along a dual carriageway road to Tesco was a bit of an assault on the senses the contrast between what England was and what it is now. It was ugly. The banks of the river as we walked into town was strewn with old decaying boats, some half sunk. Many looked like live-aboards with tarpaulin draped over the keep out the rain.

We got what we needed in Tesco and retraced our steps. The Heron was really nice, with a nice welcome, even to three rather bedraggled looking sailors. Bob was kindly in the chair so we had a very nice meal and a couple of beers overlooking the river.

View from the Heron

We got back to the boat in time to catch the second half of the England game against Slovakia. The usual, England failing to impress once again. Along came the harbour master to collect the dues (£15) – the same man that wanted £4.50 to tie up the rib in Malpass. We opened the bottle of wine that Tom had given to me for Father’s Day. Very nice. We toasted Dads and indeed Grandads. Watched the vivid red sunset, listened to an owl – or it might have been David with his owl call – and went to bed.

Plan B Revision 2

Today was the day to consider turning her for home. We had come a long way, and the furthest south for Liquid Asset. We had achieved the objective, but we needed to start considering the return journey. The weather forecasts made the planning difficult. Bob’s grib files gaves us the best overview of the weather in the channel for the next few days, a bit of a blow on Sunday and Monday and then going light for the rest of the week. The thought of motoring across the channel did not appeal so the plan was made to use Monday, but to go back around Ushant and make some East, l’Aber Wrac’h was the most likely.

So we had some time on our side and decided to make the most of the north going tide in le Chenal du Four setting of at a leisurely 11am. We were up at 7 as usual. The weather was calm. So did we sit here for 4 hours because of a weak north going tide. Of course not. With the agreement of the crew we decided to leave immediately so unhitched whoever’s mooring buoy we were attached to and left, carefully trying not to run over the ridiculous number of lobster posts dropped around the boats.

Once we rounded the red can at the bottom of le Chenal du Four we were able to set the sails and in very light winds barely sufficient to overcome the 1.7 kts of tide against we made slow progress northwards. Sadly two yachts overtook us; I would normally expect to be the overtaking boat. Was this bad sail setting; some fine adjustment to the sails made very little difference. Were they in better airs? We put it down to the fact we could not fully deploy the genoa (due to the repairs), but its hard to see why a few more inches would have made the difference. The second boat to pass us, I am pleased to say, was motor sailing!

As the wind built so did the skippers ambition level. Firstly (plan B) I suggested to the crew that l’Aber Wrac’h was not far enough east and that we might aim for Morlaix (a further 40nm and very achievable given the early start). The wind direction happened to be perfect for a channel crossing. I thought this was probably a step too far, but the crew chewed over what I thought to be a bit outrageous and concluded it could be done. We knew the winds would build up late in the day and would continue overnight. The sea state for a crossing the following day would be much higher – having had time to build – so departing now would minimise this effect.

So instead of turning the corner for north Brittany we just carried on; like proper sailors returning from the Azores! Plan B revision 2 was hatched.

Well what an epic voyage. For a while the winds sat at 15kts on the port beam and we had full sails (minus a little for the headsail) and we flew along making at one point 9.4kts. The maximum theoretical speed of the boat was 9kts so we were doing something right. At this rate we worked out we would be in Falmouth at half past midnight. Spirits were high.

Morgenster Web site

 As the afternoon progressed the wind began to build. 18kts, then 20 kts. We shortened the sails and Liquid Asset took it all in her stride. The sea state was still reasonable, so none of it was a problem. The next challenge was the shipping traversing open water between shipping lanes further up the channel and those guiding ships around Ushant bound south for the Bay of Biscay. Happily ships keep to a direct course between the two, so we knew they were concentrated into lanes (perhaps 5 miles wide) and did not alter course or speed. With the AIS and radar tracking systems on board, missing all of these was very easy; and provided a modicum of entertainment during a long day.

AIS looks a bit daunting...

.. but actually not

Still with 50nm to run the sea state started to build. Occasionally the boat would fall off the side of a large wave and broach before straightening herself up and carrying on. Taking in more sail reduced the incidence of this but slowed our speed; now about 8kts. Counting down the miles from 50 is a long slow and pointless process. Bob, who spent most of his time on this trip sitting on the port quarter – a rough tough place to be – announced many of the changes - from 49 to 48  - cheerily to the rest of the crew to keep the spirits up.

As the winds continued to build (now 25 kts) and the sea state started to look a bit ugly, we were willing Liquid Asset on. Thank goodness for auto-helms. She just took everything in her stride and steered smoothly through it all.

We started looking out for the Lizard light; not a sign; was the visibility not good enough or had Trinity House, in its wisdom, turned it off? Whilst I am sure there is a cost in running lighthouses and these days you know within a few feet where you are at any one time, the plan to turn them off is a bad one. They still provide a valuable service and most particularly on a rough night at sea as you approach land.

By now we were all getting a bit fed up with the deteriorating conditions and were looking forward to getting into the lee of the Lizard and eventually to the calm of the Helford river. It did not work out this way. It started raining and with winds hitting 30kts it was horizontal. The entrance to Falmouth provided little noticeable change in the sea state and it was was still blowing hard as we turned into the wind to come up the Helford.

We found s mooring buoy on the north side of the river, and on the third attempt I got the boat into a position to allow Bob and David to snag the pick-up buoy. We assumed this was privately owned, but were past worrying. We were safely tied up for the night. It was 3 am.

Hot tea and malt whisky seems an unlikely combination, but in the warmth of the cabin was an excellent night cap.

Was this a good decision? We still felt so, since the winds and sea state that would have confronted us leaving France the following day were what we had run into at the end. Not one of the more enjoyable trips, but one to remember.

Bertheaume – Camaret – Bertheaume

A rather disturbed night. The mooring buoy we were attached to would normally sit a few feet away from the boat, but decided it would sit against the hull and knock gently to ensure the inhabitants were kept awake; well me anyway. I tried to ignore it for a while and then got dressed and went on deck. Put the deck floodlight on (recently fixed) and rigged it so the buoy was suspended from the bow roller sufficiently away from the hull to prevent the tapping. Problem solved, back to bed for an otherwise undisturbed night.

Up as usual with the sound of David putting the kettle on for tea. We fall into a routine very quickly.
Today we would do some leisurely sailing around le Rade de Brest, an enormous expanse of water forming the natural harbour. This is very protected from the weather with flat water and good winds.

We dropped the lines from the mooring buoy and set off with the wind on the port beam. There were huge numbers of yachts on the water streaming out of Brest, many I am sure heading for Camaret so going the other way. We sailed right up to Brest

L’Aber Wrac’h to Berthaume

To be completed

Morlaix to L'aber Wrac'h

An early start this morning. Off the mooring at 7. We had a tidal gate to get through at Isle de Batz just north of Roscoff. This was a passage between the island and the mainland and would save some time if we could navigate through it. David was navigating and had a few "dry mouth" incidents at channel shallowed suddenly. Otherwise no incidents and we passed though safely.

The coast for this section of Brittany provided no safe havens for about 35nm L'Aber Wrach being the first, and a great jumping off point for le Chenal du Four (between the mainland and Ushant). An uneventful motor along the coast in a relatively flat sea was the order of the day. We arrived at the entrance to the river quite early, and motored in. The only real option was the marina, there were few opportunities to anchor, so we tied up on the wave break at the outside of the marina and I went to talk to the chef du port about staying overnight. No problem, that will be 40 Euros!

We managed to find a hammer head inside the marina - rather than perched on the outside as we were, and the berthing man in the rib was willing so we moved the boat there. We could charge up the batteries and if only we could find a hose, we could top up the water tanks. Bob spotted someone flying the ensign and went to borrow a hose from them. A result.

David and Bob decided to go exploring (with a shopping list) and came back an hour and half later with pretty much what was on the list (tagliatelle rather then linguine). They had walked to the nearest town - some mile and a half away, but managed to get a lift back (no idea how). They had spotted a nice looking restaurant nearby - le Pot de Beurre - so that's where we went for dinner.

David had been itching to try the local delicacy; oysters and was just debating whether 6 or 9 was sufficient. We advised 6. Bob had what describes as a warm lamb pate; odd but nice. I had soupe de poisson; lovely. David did well with the oysters and said he enjoyed them and would have them again; well at least until Bob described what they thrived on in the local rivers. Mains were good, although I should have had fish; a burger in France? What was I thinking of?

We were pleased to have got to our jumping off point for le Chanel du Four, although rather too much motoring to get here. Tomorrow would be the culmination of our sailing objective when we would set off for Brest.