An aborted cruise to the Isles of Scilly turns into a memorable trip east along the coastline of Cornwall and Devon
There are times to stick doggedly to a plan and there are times to cut and run. This was the latter, if only to protect Molly, our precious Aquador.
After last year’s cruise to the Isles of Scilly was cut short by bad weather, my wife Jillie and I decided to give it another go this year. Once again, all the preparations were made – fuel, water, food, weather window – and on 16 June, off we set. As we motored towards the Lizard so the cloud started to build and the closer we got to the most southerly point, the choppier the sea became.
By the time we rounded Black Head, it was getting quite unpleasant and we hadn’t passed either the Lizard or Land’s End yet. We also felt very alone as there were barely any other boats out. Neither of us fancied another three hours of cloudy skies so we turned around and headed back to Fowey.
Two other factors clinched the decision: the weather forecast for Scilly was breezy and cloudy, while Cornwall and Devon was going to be bathed in sunshine and light winds. And something wasn’t quite right with Molly’s electrics; the voltage was a bit low and variable.
When I bought her, we inherited three domestic batteries and one starter of uncertain age. I decided to replace all four of them in case there was a faulty battery or cell but it still wasn’t quite right and it didn’t feel safe or sensible to be heading out into the Atlantic knowing there was an issue.
Although we have been to Fowey many times, it never disappoints. We put alongside one of the mid-river pontoons, level with the lifeboat, and we settled in. As charming as the town is, we are very content to do our own thing. The Lotus barbecue came out, we cracked open a few beers and mixed
some gin and tonics, and the evening was sorted.
The following day dawned bright and warm. We were heading east, partly to explore further afield, partly because the wind was due to become easterly and I wanted the shelter of south Devon. Our first stop was Cawsand – still just within Cornwall.
When we did our trip to this neck of the woods in Sula – our previous Yamarin 59HT – we fell in love with the place. Cawsand, and its adjoining Kingsand, lie just inside Plymouth Sound, tucked into the lee of the Rame Peninsula. The two pretty villages boast pubs and cafes, sandy beaches and a sheltered anchorage.
The only downside being the wash that rolls in from the commercial traffic that plies the Sound. That, and the fresh northwesterly that blew up on our first night to make it a noisy, choppy and sleep-deprived introduction.
Exploring ashore
Part of the attraction of Cawsand was its proximity to Mount Edgcumbe Park, a former stately home and grounds now owned and run by the local authorities. I had seen it across the Tamar from the Mayflower Marina and the Royal William Yard but never visited it.
We chose the hottest day of the year to walk there but it was glorious; the scenery, the surroundings and the views. We had taken our swimmers so we enjoyed a cooling dip before a leisurely lunch at the Orangery. Having walked around the headland, we then walked back over the top to enjoy the shorter route home and the even more amazing views.
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Breakfast in the Dale household is usually a thing of function, a matter of fuelling up for the day ahead. On our second morning off Cawsand we opted for a slow start and breakfast ashore at Olives; a
lovely café in the adjoining Kingsand with outdoor tables overlooking the sea.
There was definitely a battle of wits with the resident gulls who made the Artful Dodger look like an amateur. I reckon that a tennis racquet and a good backhand would sort matters out. But given how good the breakfast was, you can hardly blame them for trying!
Hope springs eternal
Our next planned stop was Hope Cove, just north of Salcombe. If Cawsand is one of our favourite parts of south Cornwall, then Hope Cove and Thurlestone is the Devon equivalent. It was only about 16nm away as the crow flies but we pootled in around Burgh Island and Bantham Beach en route, passing the big arched rock at Thurlestone.
Hope Cove is tucked in behind Bolt Tail, which is the smaller relative of Bolt Head that protects Salcombe. The conditions were perfect; an easterly or offshore breeze and no swell – the bay also has fairly hard sand which made anchoring easier.
Despite all of these advantages, the anchorage was very quiet, with just the occasional day visitor from Dartmouth or Salcombe and one or two local boats. We swam a couple of times a day and did some glorious coastal walks, stopping off at some of the eateries in the cove for refreshments.
After two wonderful nights in Hope Cove, we set off for Salcombe. We hadn’t gone far when I decided that perhaps we ought to be heading for somewhere with shore power.
The voltage and charging still weren’t right and as far as I was aware there was no shorepower in Salcombe. That left three choices: Dartmouth, Plymouth or Fowey. Dartmouth was 24 miles away in the wrong direction. Plymouth was nearest and had a choice of marinas, but we were more familiar with Fowey and it was closer to home.
We opted for Fowey. I didn’t use the autopilot and I turned off the fridge to keep power usage to a minimum. It was a little tense for the two-and-a-half hour journey but the sea was calm, we weren’t too close to shore, we had a decent handheld radio as well as the 12V one, and we had mobile reception. If the engine did cut-out, we would just have to drift until the lifeboat got there, then make a very hefty donation to the RNLI!
Thankfully, the batteries held out and we tied up alongside the pontoon at Mixtow Pill where we plugged in the shorepower. So intent was I on getting to the pontoon that I hardly noticed the huge cruise ship dominating the harbour – The World, all 43,000t tonnes and 644 feet of her. It must have been quite a squeeze to get her in, as the entrance to the estuary is only about 250m wide and there’s an ‘S’ bend through moored boats that she would have had to negotiate.
Fabulous Fowey
Fowey was fantastic, as usual. We had a very relaxed couple of days spent walking and swimming, eating and drinking – coffee at the Harbour Hotel being a particular treat, with views to die for. Then, batteries charged, we motored to Polridmouth Cove, just to the east of Gribbin Head, where we swam and had lunch before heading to St Mawes for a drink and a bite to eat at the St Mawes Hotel before turning in for the night.
Our last day dawned sunny and warm without a breath of wind. We headed for a beach across the inlet, on the St Anthony Head side. A leisurely swim was followed by egg and bacon butties, all cooked on a driftwood-fuelled Kelly Kettle, and washed down with a nice hot brew.
All in all, it had been a super week away. It had perhaps felt a little tense at times, but it all worked out well in the end. We picked up our mooring below the farm at Restronguet in the late afternoon and pottered up the hill to home. Once we were back I had a proper look at the electrics.
Firstly, I took off the alternator and noticed that the lead that presses onto a spade on the back of the voltage regulator was loose. I squeezed the connector with some pliers and it popped back onto the spade terminal as snug as a bug. I had found the source of the problems. Since then I have had 200W solar panels fitted on the roof to keep the batteries topped up. Even with the fridge running overnight the batteries are now fully charged by late morning without having to run the engine.
It is a huge relief and means we will be able to go away for longer and with more confidence next summer.
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