A few years ago, very soon after my conversion to dinghy cruising, I took my newly restored 12 ft Tideway on a cruise from Falmouth along the coast to Fowey and back. I had my share of beginner’s luck and interesting moments, but it was successful enough to encourage me to keep on cruising. So when I became the new Keeper of Jady Lane this year I set my mind on the first big cruise being a repeat performance. As it turned out, the Medway came first, and it had to wait until August Bank Holiday weekend before it all came together. In Cornwall one tends not to go out on the roads at that time, but the water is never too crowded.

In fact it was the weather that chose the time to go; after a long spell of doubtful conditions the wind looked right, so I set off from Mylor Creek in the afternoon of Saturday 26th August. I ran over to St. Mawes for the night to be ready to leave at half tide the next morning. I remember that it took most of the day to get there last time, so I allowed plenty of time to get to the half way point, Dodman Head, and carry a fair tide from there to Fowey and on up the river. The 0530 forecast on Sunday morning was still favourable with the westerly continuing, and, as I passed St. Anthony Lighthouse just before 0800, I found they were right as well.

I had done something stupid to my mobile phone and locked out all numbers except home, so Ruth had to relay a message to Falmouth coastguard logging the passage; I am not sure it is really necessary, but they do seem to appreciate knowing when daft people go off sailing along the coast on their own in open boats. Once out of the harbour I set the spinnaker and settled to what was a most exhilarating run, with Jady Lane sizzling along at hull speed but steady and comfortable in almost smooth water, the wind being off shore. It was bright sunshine out at sea and I watched a gannet diving for fish quite close by, but, after passing Gull Rock, heavy cloud began to build over the land and a large shower loomed up. As it got nearer I prepared to get wet and stowed the spinnaker — just in time, in fact, as Jady Lane went just as fast without it as the wind strengthened. The shower, however, politely divided in two and passed either side of us, so I stayed dry.

I got to the Dodman much earlier than expected and found the tide still foul, but it did not matter as I slid into the lee of the land and had a nice quiet interlude reaching up the coast inside Gwineas Rock. Clear of Chapel Point, with its luxury houses, the breeze came clear again, and Jady Lane got going so well on a broad reach that I did not bother to reset the spinnaker. I passed Gribbin Head outside Fowey after a passage of 4 hours 20 minutes for the 18 nautical miles. I telephoned Ruth, before losing the signal in the deep valley of Fowey, and amazed her by asking her to relay a message of completion of passage to the coastguard much sooner than she had expected. I was able to sail gently up the river on the first of the flood tide to Mixtow Pill, where I went alongside a vacant private pontoon for lunch and to put the outboard on the transom.

Fowey River is so narrow and deep in its valley which runs north to south that, unless the wind is from either of those directions, sailing tends to be so difficult as to exhaust my patience. I therefore motored gently up river with the tide, and turned off towards Lerryn, which I had not visited before. I later heard ‘voice over engine’ a man compare it to the upper Hamble River, and that is not a bad comparison. But the Hamble has nothing to compare with the village of Lerryn at the end of the creek, which can perhaps best be described as an embryo Bosham in Chichester Harbour. A most attractive place to live or visit, and, although they did nothing to spoil it, the number of tourists there reminded me that it was Bank Holiday weekend. On the way back down the river I stopped in a creek for a quiet brew up of tea, and to eye it up as a place to stop for the night.

I then went up the main river to my favourite place: St. Winnow. This amazing survival —clustered on the water’s edge: a farm/boatyard, a medieval church, a fine old house and two cottages, and that is it. I can’t believe it can last like that for much longer without being turned into a ghetto of fancy houses, but I dearly hope it doesn’t happen. And there I met some of Jady Lane’s old friends in their Fowey River 15 ft boat, and we chatted pleasantly in the sunshine enjoying the peace and beauty of the place. I went a bit further upstream, but turned back before reaching Lostwithiel as I had seen enough houses. The wind had fallen light and more or less north’westerly, so I hoisted the mainsail to trickle gently back downstream now that the tide had turned, and kept company with a canoe sailing with an golfing umbrella and going as fast as I was. Then back to my previously selected creek to lie to two anchors over a flat patch of mud, where eventually Jady Lane sat down at half tide for a peaceful and sheltered night.

The next day I rowed the three miles down to the town, and, as the breeze was still a moderate north’westerly, I decided to have a look at St. Austell Bay. When, after a bit of a struggle in the lee of the land, I rounded the Gribbin, I could see some dinghies racing apparently close to the west shore, but when I got there, they seemed to be close to the east shore. They were in the middle of the bay which is four miles across. It took a long time to get into the lee of the land on the west side, and I did not like it much when I got there, as it was a favourite place for water-skiers who did not stop for lunch. So I did not linger there after I had had mine, but set off for a nice run close to the shore past Charlestown and the wide and little used sandy beaches of Par, and so back to the Gribbin by which time the breeze had begun to fail. Having satisfied my curiosity I don’t think I need to see St. Austell Bay again.

I motored back up the river and turned in to Penpoll Creek opposite Golant and went right up to the end where it disappears under a little stone bridge, and there I met another of Jady Lane’s friends, who was doing things to his boat at the end of his garden which bordered the creek. Then back down the creek to a favourite patch of flat mud for the night on a warm sunny evening without a sound except a few birds and cattle. There was a little rain in the night and the next day dawned overcast, but the 0530 forecast confirmed an earlier hint that the wind was to be south’easterly — a scarcely believable bit of good luck. I motored down to the town in a flat calm with the first of the ebb, and called the coastguard from a phone box, and they confirmed the wind direction, which could not be felt in the shelter of the harbour. After brewing a cup of coffee, I motored to the harbour entrance, unshipped the motor, stowed it under the thwart and made final preparations for the passage back to Falmouth.

Outside, there was a perfect whole sail breeze of about force 3 nicely on the beam so Jady Lane soon got into her stride, the sea being almost flat as it was still early in the life of the south’easterly. Off Gwineas Rocks, however, I ran into an unexpected patch of very short steep overfalls, which put a fair bit of water on the foredeck, and one spiteful wave leapt into the air and threw itself into the boat, the only water to come aboard on the entire cruise. The overfalls off the Dodman were much larger, and uncomfortable in a 35 ft. motorboat, as I know, but Jady Lane took no notice of them: she just sailed up one side of the waves and down the other. Rounding the Dodman brought the wind further aft, so I changed the working foresail to the light weather one, and we rolled and sloshed our way merrily through the bit of sea that had built up, but it all remained pleasantly relaxed. The layout of Jady Lane with her large afterdeck allows the helmsman to sit on the aft thwart on good big cushions, facing forwards, with the tiller nicely to hand, without depressing the stern and immersing the transom; a great aid to comfort on a long passage. On the whole passage there were very few yachts out until I met the first of those leaving Falmouth to carry a fair tide up-Channel.

On this occasion I worked the tide just about right, and did the return passage in less wind in 3 hours 50 minutes, about 4¾ knots over the ground — which I think is about as much as one can get out of such an old 14 ft non-planing boat. In case you wonder how Jady Lane can make such speeds: I have fitted a gunter mainsail with a boom which does not seem to hit me on the head. Until I make some alterations it looks a bit like a laundry bag, but it seems to perform quite well. As I got into Falmouth soon after low water, I had a pleasant doze in the sun at St. Just waiting for enough water to get up Mylor Creek to recover.

In contrast to the Medway cruise this may seem a dull affair, but it is easy to make mistakes sound interesting, but much more difficult to convey the complete satisfaction of this rare and enjoyable cruise with its fair wind both ways. And Jady Lane was a perfect lady who proved herself a significant improvement on even the excellent Tideway as a cruising dinghy.