Now that winter is on us again my thoughts drift back to last winter and a couple of memorable day sails I had then. Well, it seemed like winter anyway! But my cruising log tells me that it was actually 13th March and 18th April, which might be considered spring were it not, as Richard Carew said of Cornwall 400 years ago, ‘The spring visiteth not these quarters so timely as the eastern parts.’

A sunny day with a south’westerly whole sail breeze tempted me out in mid March and invited a sail south along the coast from Maenporth where I usually launch out of season. The beach is then practically deserted and it allows direct access to the sea without having to creep in and out of the creeks in the harbour. So, with only occasional splashes of spray coming aboard Dinah, my undecked 12 ft. Tideway, I enjoyed a good close reach along the coast, past the tempting mouth of the Helford River, to the Shark’s Fin, the innermost of the dreaded Manacles reefs. Passing through these close inshore is quite safe, but caution is necessary as, even in calm seas such as on that day, great lumps of rock eerily emerge from the sea and descend again in sullen swirls of turbulence, just looking for a boat to wreck, and they have had many successes over the years.

Just south of that hazard I tacked into the nice open bay of Godrevy Cove and beached for lunch at high tide and had a wander among the interesting rocks. Just a little further on is the huge Dean Quarry that produces road stone which used to be, and may still be, loaded directly into ships on the open coast. Then, expecting a bit more breeze when I rounded Lowland Point where the coast steps to the west, I fitted my Falmouth Folding Foredeck and set her at it. It proved to be a bit of a struggle to get round the point, I think the last of the tide was against us, but soon tacked along to the bay where Coverack lies tucked into the corner.

I had never been there before and it was, like most of the tiny Cornish fishing (and tourist) villages, asking to be visited by boat. I landed briefly at the granite mole, but found the place with a surreal air about it. There was a huddle of boats drawn up on the wide slipway and a scattering of cars, but of people there was not a sign. (Too soon for tourists and too cold for natives?) It was not an atmosphere to encourage delay, nor was the mole a comfortable place for a small boat to lie.

I sailed away still in sunshine albeit with little warmth, and a few patches of cloud that looked thick enough to drop a shower, but none fell on my bit of coast. I put in briefly at the rather grim cove of Porthoustock with its disused quarry workings, but again found little to delay me. So I continued my pleasant reach back to Maenporth where I arrived at 1700 having sailed 15 nautical miles without once using the oars. An unexciting day out, but memorable with only Dinah on an almost deserted sea sailing along a deserted coast.

The next occasion was in sharp contrast. I was aware that the north’westerly breeze was quite brisk and likely to increase as the day went on, but it was a good wind for Portscatho to the east of Falmouth. I had not been there for some years and it was a good excuse to brush up my strong wind sailing.

Launching at Maenporth again, I had a good whole sail reach across to the lee of Zone Point, and there pulled down a reef in readiness for coming on the wind as the coast trended more northerly. There followed a stiff close-hauled sail up to the beach at Portscatho, but I found it an uncomfortable place in that wind and I knew there were few attractions ashore. So I got under way again with some difficulty and rather messily, and sailed on to Porthcurnick Beach just across the cove which offered some shelter.

The beach is a very shallow slope, so while I stowed the sails and prepared to anchor Dinah off, she had dried out on the sand. The waves were so small as to be of no help in moving her; it was as though she was bolted to the ground, so firmly did the sand grip her keel. I had recently adopted two large sausage fenders to serve as buoyancy, fenders and possibly boat rollers, but had not yet tried them. It was difficult to insinuate one fender under the bow as I could hardly lift it high enough; but once there, it was just possible to heave the boat forward until she was balanced on it, after which it was easy. I thereby saved myself three or more hours waiting on the beach that was scarcely hospitable, in spite of the sunshine. Once she was anchored safely off, I had lunch sheltered among the rocks looking across the large expanse of sand with the wind hissing in the grass above me.

As the tide was still falling and threatening to leave Dinah aground once again, I set off with the following wind, by then appreciably stronger. Strong enough to kick Dinah on to the plane briefly, which happens very seldom. As I again rounded Zone Point I had to pull down the second reef, easily and quickly done with the excellent Roger’s Reefing Refinement. There followed a hard, cold, wet thrash until well inside the Carrick Roads when I got into the lee of St. Mawes and ran on to the beach, having made just one tack off St. Anthony lighthouse. After such a struggle it was rather disconcerting to see that several yachts were carrying whole sail, but they were heeling over on their ears. It was a good test of me and the boat’s gear, and all passed. I had no water over the gunwale, but it needed concentration and careful playing of the mainsheet. My fingers however were quite useless with cold by the time I stopped, and rather a lot of spray had found its way into my cheap and inefficient water-proofs.

The home designed and made Falmouth Folding Foredeck however was a triumph, keeping almost all the water out of the boat. I had been about to write to the Bulletin to question whether Safety Recommendation No. 4 was really valid, but I have since found that it certainly is!

After a reviving cup of coffee and a Mars Bar I sailed across to Falmouth but did not stop. So I ran back to Pendennis and close reached to Maenporth to recover. Although I could not really call this a pleasant sail of 19 nautical miles, it was a very satisfying one in spite of going home very tired with worn and creaking fingers. Dinah got a good washing and did not seem to mind at all, but I could wish that she was not such a wet boat in a blow!