Sark to Tresco

Where to next? Brittany? We have been thinking about going to the Scilly Isles every year we have been in the West Country. Being 27 miles beyond Lands’ End and with very little shelter there in bad weather, it has always been a step too far. The wind directions were looking good for Brittany with a nice steady north easterly, but were dying later in the week making a return journey difficult. The Scillys were looking a distinct possibility with a steady wind on the starboard quarter. Consultation with the crew there was a unanimous vote to achieve our ambitions and go to the Scilly Isles.

The Scillys are about 160 miles from Sark, so at 6 kts this would take over 24 hours. Being close to the summer solstice with very few hours of darkness then this should be straightforward. It was a passage literally down the middle of the English Channel.

David Passage Planning

The passage was one of the best long ones we have had. The weather, once we rounded the south of Guernsey was lovely and the wind held. We used the engine primarily to charge the batteries. Our watch system was two hours on, two hours on standby and two hour off. The hours of darkness were initially very dramatic with no light pollution and lots of stars. Then the moon came up behind us. All made for a fast and spectacular nights sailing.

We arrived in the Scilly Isles at midday the following day, and made for St Marys where we understood there to be plenty of mooring buoys. Initial impressions were not good. Hugh Town was a scruffy looking place and the mooring buoys were altogether too close together, very few to be had and definitely too many French. We tied up to one, tidied up the boat and the crew. Bob and David went ashore in the dinghy to do a reccie. I stayed aboard, had a shower and snooze. Was awoken by messages coming in from the crew to pick me up and go for a beer in the town. The scruffy exterior of Hugh Town was matched by the scruffy interior. Had a beer, did some shopping and then back to the boat for dinner and a good night’s sleep.

We decided that this was not the Scilly Isles we were expecting, so the plan was to go for a long sail in the Atlantic on the far side of the island, and go and find an anchorage or mooring in Trescoe. We had been told that Trescoe was the “jewel in the crown”, and there was a desire from the horticulturalists amongst us to visit the Abbey gardens, which are renowned.

We navigated our way carefully south west past St Agnes with a very good wind and reefed sails. Rounding the rocks to the south of the islands, we set a course towards Greenland and sailed the Atlantic Ocean. Another yacht appeared some way ahead on a similar course (most likely heading from Ireland), and the race was on. The reefs were taken out and we were off. Of course, we overhauled them. Turns out they were perhaps 32ft, so not really any competition, but it was fun.

Put a tack in a headed back in towards land and in particular Trescoe. David navigated us in, meticulously as usual. We found a vacant mooring buoy and tied up. This was very different from St Marys and Hugh Town. Between Bryher and Tresco, just near Hangman Island and Cromwell’s Castle a sheltered bay called Frenchman’s Point.

This was the start of three day affair with the Scilly Isles. This is what we expected and what we had sailed so far to see. The shore party was mustered to survey the shoreline and what looked like a small village half a mile further along the shore. We pulled the dinghy well up the beach and tied her to a ring in the sea wall. As we entered the village it all appeared to be very well appointed and manicured even. Two people cutting a very small lawn which didn’t need cutting. People walking around in casual summer outfits, certainly not locals. We found the village stores. Expectations were low (the coop in St Hugh’s was what we had in mind). Not here. Very up- market. Nice wines, delicatessen, a nice range of products and produce.

Of course we were in a private village where all the properties were rented out. This is the land of the Duke or Cornwall. Leased a long time ago to a well to do family who had built up an obviously successful business in renting nice properties to wealthy holidaymakers from the mainland.

It was all very nice, albeit with slight overtones of the Prisoner series with Patrick McGoohan back in the 60’s. Just generally a bit unreal. Were these visitors? Could they leave? Who was Number One.

We asked after a hotel that had been recommended to us. It was no longer here, converted to cottages. Try the New Inn. Well we did, and it was very nice too. Not the kind of prices we had found in Sark, certainly twice as much, but nevertheless a very nice garden in which to have a beer in the sunshine. We had fallen on our feet.

Back to the boat (no traumas with the dinghy), and very pleasant evening. I think it was the Shepherd’s Pie that Annie had cooked for us. Meant for 6, but we managed to polish it off (well David and Bob mainly).

A pretty good night. The usual mucking about on deck at 2 in the morning to stop squeaking of mooring lines and boom, but otherwise uneventful.

No breakfast for the crew the following day. They were still too full from the night before! Today we visited the Abbey Gardens on Trescoe. This was well worth the £12 per head. Amazing that all these tropical plants were flourishing in what must normally be a very windswept place. David quizzed the head gardener for some time getting all sorts of advice about planting in harsh conditions (David has zillions of acres near Carlisle). Bob and I retired to the café and the obligatory shop.

We walked the 25 minutes back to the New Inn; some stunning views towards St Mary’s en route. Refreshed adequately we headed to the Ruin Café on the other side of the island. This was also a lovely spot. Looking North this time. Somewhat more exposed in these north easterly winds. We booked dinner for the following night.