June 14, 2025

Saturday 14 June …westwards but slowly…

The morning forecast is suggesting SW or W F3 to F5 but at least there is no rain on the horizon and the river most definitely looks so much nicer in the early sun than yesterday afternoon’s downpour. There is even a woman and her dog pulling out along the river…

Decision made, and instead of slugging across in a headwind to Falmouth, we opt for Fowey. This should be (almost) possible if the wind has a decent bit of south in it and we want to give it another go. We were there 7 years ago and arrived in the midst of some festival or other, where all the pubs and restaurants were only doing drinks and no food. The place was rammed with loads of boozing and we got royally ripped off in the only place serving food which was an over-priced and very surly Indian….not that we are bitter or twisted!

The wind has already being blowing most of the night and we slide out of the river into quite a swell from the SW. We round the Mewstone rocks and set sail across Plymouth and try to clear Rame head. Sadly not quite and we need to tack back south before we can make a decent course. The sea is definitely lumpier than completely comfortable, but Heydays laps it up and most of the sea stays outside the boat! The weather is glorious and we are in the company of a few other boats making their way west. The submarines (if indeed they are there) don’t make themselves felt and we scud out across Whitsands bay in a freshening breeze. As the afternoon wears on the wind and the seas build with (we assume) the onset of sea breezes. With the headland refusing to move to allow us to make Fowey in one fetch, we tack out once more and the occasional sea decides that it would be better inside our cockpit than out. Still, the sailing is glorious, but we are all painfully aware that our days of taking this for more than just an afternoon seem long gone. We hear a couple of coastguard calls, one for a yacht which has washed ashore not far from our position, but with no sign of the lone sailor on passage from Roscoff. Boats in the vicinity are being asked to look out…

Another yacht has lost its mast and is looking for a tow in. We are grateful we had our rigging renewed last summer.

Of the dismasted yacht and the missing sailor we see no sign, and we finally begin to close the entrance to Fowey. Grateful for some respite from the constant bracing against the rollers from the west. We are directed to the last remaining walk ashore pontoon and soon a french yacht is also rafted up outside. With lines snug we are in the cockpit with gin and tonic within 10 minutes and bask in the glory of another hardy and (to us at least) heroic beat to windward.

Thankfully no festival today but almost all the restaurants are fully booked. We end up in a completely un-prepossessing pub called the Lugger, but which serves up a great few dishes at prices well below some of the ‘nicer’ restaurants. They deserve more recognition in our humble opinion.

June 13, 2025

Friday 13th June…dominated by weather…

Our lives, inevitably, are dominated by the weather. The forecast for today is to start off with some nice Sou’westerlies, going round to the east then back to SW. That will do us nicely as by the time the SW comes back we should be headed NW and on a nice beam reach for the River Yealm. The only cloud on the horizon (literally) is that solid rain is due around 3 or 3.30pm. We make the decision to stem some foul tide for a while in order to be snug and hopefully dry up the river by this afternoon.

So a 6 am alarm comes as no surprise and we have our first cup of coffee with some lovely sunshine. A light breakfast and we slide out of the marina just as some early fishing boats leave and a couple return home with the night’s catch.

The wind is lighter than forecast as we round Berry Head …

…and set out west once more. So we top it up with some diesel in an effort to keep up our speed over the ground and make the Yealm before the rain sets in. A few boats are heading in to Dartmouth, but somehow we prefer Brixham with its slightly rougher, workaday edge than the most definitely yachtie destination of Dartmouth.

The day turns rather hazy and the wind becomes ever more fickle as the rather beautiful Devon coast slips by, with its red striated rocks and fields clinging to the cliffs. A bit of sun would have shown its true glory…

There is quite a swell running, presumably left over from previous strong winds out in jus asternthe Atlantic and as we get closer to the Skerries bank just off Start point the sea build and becomes quite confused. Coupled with little wind, we are tossed around a bit, until with Salcombe fading behind we are back to some idea of calm. Of the promised easterlies there is no sign and while we keep the main up to reduce the roll, the genoa is rolled away, then let out again, then rolled away….

A seal lazily rolls out of our way looking very contented, presumably having had its fill of fish for breakfast. The sun disappears and we keep looking nervously for the rain clouds….all OK so far, and then all of a sudden we find ourselves disturbing a pod of dolphins. Sadly they are not interested in playing with us, finding their shoal of fish a more attractive proposition. A glimpse of some white bellies and a dorsal fin, and they are gone.

We are now bearing away just in time to make use of the promised SW winds. Like dolphins, the wind just teases and still the diesel keeps purring.

We approach the entrance to the river Yealm as we feel the first few tentative drops of rain. Newly ‘togged up’ in our finest wet weather gear, we lose the redundant sails and make our way round the sand bar within a biscuit’s toss of the rocky shore.

We find a visitors buoy just as the rain begins and we pick up the line, make it fast then dash back to get the cockpit tent up all in the space of around 60seconds. Inside and largely dry, the heavens open and we congratulate ourselves on a plan coming together.

Postscript. The very wet harbour master comes alongside in his launch for his fees and cheerily tells us that the rain is set in ‘til Sunday, but ‘scorcio’ after that!

June 12, 2025

June 11th…Lyme Bay

The day dawns fine and clear and with the promised winds from the east.

We up anchor to head out for the Bill and are gratified to find a succession of boats out of Weymouth, all with the same idea. We assume that we can’t all have got our passage plan wrong.

Out of the harbour we shake out the reefs in the main and with a full genoa we are skimming along in company. Ride to the Bill is always fascinating as we are never more than a quarter of a mile (two and a half cables in very old money) from the old quarry workings and the rusting remains of cranes used to load chunks or Portland stone on the coasters. With a fair tide helping us, we race past the beach huts and the light house and the tourists….and then we’re out into the bay.

But then, just as rapidly…we see absolutely nothing. Of Portland, the tourists and the other boats there is no trace as thick fog engulfs us with visibility down to less than 50m.

Fog horn out and radar on, but then within 10 minutes the fog lifts and we are back to sunshine and clear views of Chesil beach. The only sign of the fog is a dense cap over the top of Portland.

We tack down wind in around 12 knots of wind and consider getting the cruising chute out. The latest shipping forecast for the inshore area now talks about strengthening winds up to F6 with thundery showers towards late afternoon/evening. The chute stays in its locker and the swell and wind build through the afternoon, with the sun having to work ever harder to penetrate the deepening clouds.

Steering down the waves requires more and more concentration and in what is now 20kts of wind we round up and stow the main. Continuing under genny alone makes the motion much easier and avoids the unpleasantness of an uncontrolled mainsail gybe.

We are shadowed for a time by a couple of warships on manoeuvres (we hope) and gradually by the rest of the little flotilla which rounded the Bill with us. Visibility deteriorates and It is not until we are less than a mile from Brixham that we can finally make out the entrance light.

Unfortunately the (cheap) harbour moorings are all taken already so we end up in the regular marina accompanied by some of the worst behaved and noisy seagulls imaginable. Oh well, electricity, water and the promise of hot showers soften the need to take out a mortgage to stay there.

June 9, 2025

June 9th… nothing special, just another beat to windward…

A pleasingly uneventful night in studland sees a rather watery sun trying to
breakthrough as we get togged up for a beat along the normally stunning Dorset Coast.
We slip the mooring and head out past Old Harry and his wife and pick up a reasonably
gentle swell rolling up the channel.

There is firing today on the Lulworth Ranges so we need to need to keep at least 3 ½
miles offshore. As it happens this suits us at the moment just in terms of where
the wind is coming from so we head out south past a rather grey and overcast Swanage
and leave Durlston behind on a beat into a chilly F5. The west going tide starts to make a
mark and we begin the relatively slow passage west.
Oddly there are a few boats behind us who opt for the passage closer inshore. Have
we got the firing times completely wrong? We are vindicated a short while later as we
hear the coastguard (relatively politely at first) requesting that they alter course to avoid
being shot at….actually I made that last bit up, but a Navy protection boat most
definitely makes things clear.
Of the stunning Dorset Coast we see little, and Lulworth, Durdle Door and
Chapmans Pool are points on the chart, passing by in the gloom. Never mind we say,
this is June so we must be enjoying ourselves!
Actually the sail is exhilarating as Heydays scuds along with a double reef main and a
couple of rolls in the genoa. We have found over the years, that we could pile mo8re sail
on and get maybe another half knot, but at the loss of balance and calm. So 5 to 6kts is
fine by us and allows for a civilised and even peaceful cockpit. We catch a few decent spells of blue sky to remind us of what it could be like…

It takes ages for Portland to decide to show itself, and we anchor finally just as the sun
makes itself felt once more. There are few other visiting yachts, but the harbour is a real playground
for all sorts of foiling windsurfers, kite surfers and assorted high speed wizzy stuff.

A late lunch, a snooze in the sun….

.. and then the clouds come back, the wind picks up and we have a 3 course meal
tucked up in the cockpit all washed down with some aperitifs and the last of a box of
Rose. Early start in the morning for another beat across Lyme Bay to Brixham….weather
permitting…

June 8, 2025

June 6/7th ….finally

So here we are again. Saturday afternoon and once more doing some final prep and shopping. The remnants of some fairly nasty weather are blowing themselves through, but Sunday looks like it could be good with some forecast NW winds which should be good to help us on our way down the SW coast. It is the day of the Round the Island Race (Isle of Wight) and there was some talk of the race being cancelled this year for the smaller boats. In the event it all goes ahead albeit with a succession of rainy squalls blowing through. We get Heydays shifted from her river mooring to the much more convenient pontoon belonging to the Lymington Town Sailing Club.

Chris and Yee Tak have trundled off to shop for the perishables….and booze, But get holed up in the supermarket while the rain comes down in such torrents that not even a dash to the car is advisable. Meanwhile John and James are sat tucked up in Heydays listening to some carnage out in the Solent as the last of the stragglers reach the finish line just off Cowes. The coastguard are dealing with several ‘PAN-PAN’ messages (these are for incidents which are not emergencies yet, but which could be come one) of people going overboard, steering failure etc. There are also two full MAYDAYS going on with lifeboats out from both Hamble and Calshott. This is not a day to be out we decide.

A brief lull in the rain gets all the necessary stuff on board and we make it to the pub for dinner before the weather sweeps through once more. We meet a very cute cocker-poo called Summer and can’t resist sending it to Yee Tak and James’ number 2 granddaughter….also called Summer. Summer clearly means cute in our unbiased and objective opinion!

Back on board we’re nicely tucked up with a rum when there is a knock on the window and a boat is trying to get into the berth behind us. We dutifully undo all our lines, shift up and redo the moorings. They are very grateful as they have just come from Cowes having been in the race. They later admit they also stopped in Cowes for a beer before heading home. They are all togged up but we gather that one of them is Jeremy Vine….THE Jeremy Vine we wonder?

The morning forecast is for slightly heavier winds than in previous broadcasts, but the suggestion is that the bigger gusts are confined to the East of the area. The weather is fine and with a 7.30 alarm we are ready to slip Lymington for the last time (we hope) for many months.

We leave the river behind in a steady F5 from the NW and zoom through Hurst Narrows and the old Henry VIII fort on the first of the ebb tide.

Rounding North Head buoy off Milford on Sea we wave goodbye to John and Chris’ flat up on the cliffs and we set a course for St Aldhelm’s head in company with a small flotilla of boats making their way back west from the race. With a double reef main and about a third of the genny set, Heydays is happily plugging a sea which is still very lumpy from yesterday’s winds. A fair chunk of wet stuff throws itself at whoever is at the helm. The wind stays very fresh however and decides to gradually shift more and more westward, forcing us further from our planned track than we ideally wanted.

The forecast easing of the wind doesn’t happen and we face a classic wet and bumpy slog for the next 6 hours or so to Portland. We look longingly at the boats already snug on the sheltered moorings in Studland bay and there is an easy decision to change course and head in to join them. In the shelter of Old Harry rocks the motion is instantly easier, and as the fast Condor cat from Cherbourg passes us, we take our sails down and pick up one of the new moorings in the bay.

Footnote. This used to be a favourite anchorage among sailors, but it is also home to some relatively rare seagrasses and seahorses. They have now laid some mooring buoys which are effectively screwed to the sea bed and so repeated scouring by anchors has been prevented much to the relief of the sea horses…