Our fishermen friends at Penberth Cove are most hospitable, but it was time to go further. They hauled Pat down the slipway and we (Pat and I) sailed out of the cove on a falling tide which would turn again in time to take us around Lands End. Leaving the Logan Hock astern and sailing inside the eerie Runnelstone Buoy, fog was beginning to blanket everything ahead and then we were very much alone in a white woolly nothingness. Tol Pedn was rounded by keeping just close to the cliffs. Now the very light wind was dead ahead, so it meant tacking out into zero visibility and back to the cliffs again and again. The Longships fog signal became more deafening as we navigated the inside channel past the Armed Knight, being now able to sail close-hauled on the port tack. Gradually Pat ran out of the fog, and I could look back to see the lighthouse still blaring out its warning. To port was Kettle Bottom, a flat rock with seas breaking over, that rock always gives me a queasy feeling. Ahead, the black fin of a shark piloted us into the approach to Sennen Cove. As I stepped ashore, a car pulled up and out stepped the coastguard who had been watching our progress from the cliff tops.

Left Sennen Cove on a rising tide, and once having rounded Cape Cornwall were running before a fresh SW wind. Flew past well outside St. Ives and the Stones buoy, St. Agnes Head and Man and his Man and (just before Newquay) turned into the Gannel. Great combers were rolling into Crantock Bay but by just giving the port-hand cliffs a berth, were able to sail through slightly deeper water where the Gannel has cut a channel at low tides. It was a relief to get through that lot and anchor on the sandy bottom in the lee of Crantock.

It is necessary to get out of the shallow Gannel before the tide leaves it; so we then anchored off Newquay harbour till the ebb turned. Then a fine reaching wind to round Trevose Head into territory strange to me. Had studied the large scale charts, and found a very narrow starboard-hand channel which does not dry out, below the cliffs on the west side of Padstow's shifting sands. It was approaching low tide, and the cliffs blanketed the west wind, so used the outboard and almost reached Hawkers Cove before going aground in sandy mud.

Leaving Padstow, a glorious SW wind took Pat across Port Isaac Bay till near Tintagel, when I began to have doubts about the tricky entrance to Boscastle in case we should miss the top of the tide. So turned back to Port Isaac. This is the town where they clear the car park before high tide: the top of the harbour is a car park.

By moving, down and anchoring well out in the harbour, were able to leave when tide just right for Boscastle. Had a pretty good view of Tintagel Castle and its tiny cove which dries out. Rounding the headland for the run in to Boscastle, ahead of us appeared just a solid wall of cliff. Sailed in direction shown on chart, but no break appeared ahead. Turned tail and enquired of a man who was setting crab pots from his boat. He pointed his arm in the direction from which we had just returned; so with his confirmation of the Admiralty chart we went in again. Just as my resolve began to weaken once more, there appeared to port a miniature canyon with a narrow maelstrom of a channel. This was negotiated in about three minutes and Pat tied up in calm water behind the harbour wall. As the tide ran out, she settled comfortably on a thick bed of kelp. The coastguard at Port Isaac had warned that Bude harbour might be closed and in any case has a dangerous approach. The ordnance Survey shows a Crackington Haven before Bude; but it is not a haven, according to a fisherman who lives there but keeps his boat at Boscastle. Now, approaching the Autumn Equinox, I judged it would be foolhardy to go on to Lundy Island, a trip which could only be made with tides and weather just (if ever) right. Between Bude and Clovelly there is no harbour. Hartland Quay was destroyed by the sea about the turn of the century, and as to the quay built by the Americans near there during World War II, I could obtain no information.

So it was time to turn back home. Beating around Trevose Head against half a gale, a gust tore the burgee from the gaff peak. The strain on the centreplate opened up a garboard seam so that we were taking some water, and the homemade wooden bilge pump was choked. Waiting outside Newquay harbour for the tide, I was glad to tie up to an anchored fishing boat and get my feet out of six inches of water by going aboard. At high tide, Pat was beached up amongst the holiday makers, and emergency repairs effected between tides. Then we were held in Newquay three days, the harbour being closed due to rough weather outside.

Getting out of Newquay, the sea was still pretty rough, and had to use the Seagull outboard into a dead noser for a hectic hour around into the peace of the Cannel for further repairs to leaks. Waited till half tide when I could walk across the footbridge still awash into the town, bought Aerolite and returned to make a quick job before the tide returned.

Off Perranporth was a cable ship with a big buoy well to seaward. My course lay between ship and buoy, and, as they gave no warning signal, we sailed between the two. Rounding, St. Agnes Head, the very light airs picked up suddenly to about Force 6. The forestay anchorage at the stern was of gunmetal strip, and this parted. I had to rush to the prow, and with very little handhold, get a jury lashing to the forestay. Wind was now dead ahead for St. Ives, and increasing in strength, with tide soon to turn against us. Could just make Portreath on a starboard tack with the slack foresail. A bit dicey actually getting into the harbour entrance against wind and tide. Eventually settled on the boulder-strewn bottom, laid out the anchor ahead; and when the tide made, hauled into the middle harbour.

With damage at stem repaired was able to lay course for St. Ives, and to round Godrevy Island before the race really built up. For Hayle, one has to sail well into Carbis Bay before turning SE The Admiralty chart showed a pair of buoys marking the entrance over the bar to Hayle River, but I searched ahead some time before deciding that a couple of miniature horizontal can buoys must be the ones. Was just able to get into Hayle before the little tidal river became too shallow, and tied up close to the busy A30 road.

Did not know then that sometimes at low tide a lock gate is opened from a lake further inshore, so as to clear silt out of the river bed, with a great outrush of water. Rather insalubrious there so with the tide moved around to Lelant. There was a delightful little circular onetime quay, now all sand but covering at high water, with a gap allowing dinghies to enter. The little single track railway (no gates) had to be crossed to Lelant station and the town. Just across the railway track was a spring of cool fresh water.

Spent a few pleasant end of holiday weeks living aboard here before being towed back overland to Helford River.