The event is being sponsored by the University of Plymouth and included a series of lectures as well as the usual commercial stands. Although only small by most show standards, we glean some really interesting ideas about where the future of boating is going. At the moment, the options are still mostly much more expensive than the current mass produced stuff (outboards, antifoul etc) but this is clearly the future. We ponder for a while what we can practically (and economically) do and it seems that the most immediate change will be to the way we keep Heydays’ bottom clean. Coppercoat is clearly the front runner at the moment in terms of avoiding the powerful biocides which are clearly not ideal for marine life. However we were specially intrigued by a material made from short fibre recycled plastic which is then stuck to the hull. The short velour-like fibres stop the usual critters from adhering to the surface and has apparently been used for over 10 years in parts of Europe, specifically the Netherlands….maybe we go down this route instead.
Plymouth is a funny mix of the very old stuff which even Drake might recognise, sat next to 50s and 60s-built blocks built after the horrible destruction left by Nazi bombs in the second world war.






Grumpy git alert…we get tempted into The Harbour Seafood Restaurant for some seafood lunch (oddly). We count 12 staff and around the same number of customers and wait a few minutes to get seated. Menus arrive some while later. Having attracted someone from their own conversation, we order from the menu. Doombar zero is printed in reasonably clear letters (even for old people like us) but are told that they never sell it and they don’t know why it is on the menu. The food, when it arrives is really good though and our mood lifts until we ask for tabasco. The waiter goes off to check…and then gets on with something else presumably more fascinating than us. After a while we ask him about the tabasco to be told “Oh, no, the chef said we have run out”…we are tempted to do the same! In reality of course, they are using staff who have probably never received any training and who are probably on minimum wage with no paid breaks…not their fault. We leave without anyone acknowledging our departure and vow not to return.
After a bit of worshiping in the ultra-modern Drake Circus shopping church…sorry mall, we find ourselves sucked in against our will to the Plymouth Gin Distillery cocktail bar, where comfy sofas and even comfier gin-based cocktails make a great end to a day of odd contrasts.



The thunderclaps as we head back to Heydays herald the predicted change in the weather for a few days, but they leave a spectacular sky in their wake. This must have been what the sky looked like at the height of the bombing.
