What one must always be aware of, when sailing in this part of Britain, are the extreme variations of tide. They have to be respected, especially in a small sailing boat like ours.

We had planned to spend 6 days cruising the Daugleddau River, Milford Haven and the adjoining coastline, after my daughter had completed her A-level exams. Our home and base for a week was our 14 foot Highlander called Sopley Blue. It has a gunter rig, and was constructed by me some years ago, and has been adapted and refitted for cruising — although she can give a good turn of speed when challenged with a force 4 or 5.

We arrived at Lawrenny Quay about 11 am on a beautiful sunny Monday. I had contacted John Bowen, a DCA member who lives in Neath, and he gave me some excellent advice and encouragement for the planning of our trip, plus an invaluable local guide called ‘The Secret Waterway’. Lawrenny Quay is halfway up the river Daugleddau, has good parking, and a slip usable at most stages of the tide. It appeared to be quiet and remote, taking 20 minutes travelling along narrow country lanes off the Tenby/Pembroke main road, but a wise choice in its strategic location, midway up the navigable river. There was a little wind, but it was hot and sunny. We slowly made our way up river with the tide. The shores are heavily wooded, with occasional fields rolling down to the water’s edge, mysterious towers and old buildings projecting through the tree-lined banks. We reached Black Tar Point by lunch time, tying up to a free mooring buoy to eat our Welsh pies and goodies for our mid-day meal.

The wind did strengthen slightly in the afternoon, just sufficient to travel against the tide, with some help from the oars. When we reached the divide in the river between East and West Cleddau we chose the Eastern channel which can be navigated up to Blackpool Mill at high tide, but the tide was falling and we could only make it to Slebech Park. Also there were no landing stages remaining, and the mud was too deep to wade ashore.

We then chose to make Landshipping our destination for the evening. Before the wind dropped we tacked against the tide in the open water at the junction of the two upper rivers. It was hard to make much progress, but we eventually settled close to low tide at the slipway at Landshipping. We beached Sopley Blue on the end of the slip and went to the public house up the hill for a welcome pint. Supper was cooked following the liquid refreshment on the slip: barbecued home-made sausages, salad and curried rice was our main course, followed by fruit and tea. On completing our meal, we launched the boat as the water lapped up the slipway and rowed over to a free buoy to moor for the night. Our tent was assembled in 20 minutes, and we were asleep in the next ten after a very enjoyable sunny and exciting day.

This section of the river is very quiet and serene, its decaying history apparent from the remains of the old quays, jetties and deserted castles. In fact it was so quiet on Tuesday morning that we woke late and missed the early morning tide down stream. After packing up our tent we rowed down to Llangwin, moored at Black Tar Quay and walked to the village for provisions. This meandering village was decorated with wild and imaginative ‘scarecrows’, 120 in all, we were told. They are made by each household as part of the village festival. Many were witty, even pointed in their comments on current affairs. After lunch we sailed downstream with the tide to West Angel Bay at the mouth of the estuary. A small jetty in the shelter of the bay allowed us to cook our supper on the rocky edge of this sandy cove while watching the sun set over St Ann’s Head. We swiftly packed our cooking utensils as we realised the falling tide was about to ground the boat for 7 hours. As the wind had dropped we rowed across the bay to Dale to have a couple of pints in The Griffin. The floating jetty allowed us access to the shore even at low water. The night was spent moored in the shelter of Dale Bay.

On Wednesday we were awoken by the bright rays of the sun flooding the tent. We made haste south before the incoming tide became too strong to sail against in the light morning breeze. Our destination was Watwick Bay, a beautifully secluded sandy bay on the east side of St Ann’s Head. We shared the beach with one other family, enjoying the rays of the sun. We decided to stay overnight, so we beached Sopley Blue close to high tide and took a walk around the coastal path, viewing St Ann’s Head, St Bride’s and finishing back at the Griffin at Dale for welcome liquid refreshment. Dale sees itself as a west coast (as in California) surf/windsurfing-beach-bum destination, as well as a centre for sailing and scuba diving. What it lacks in sophistication it makes up for in charm and beauty.

On our return to the sandy beach of Watwick Bay we prepared our barbecue, and after a bottle of Cabernet we pitched our tent above high water for a well-earned sleep, the delicious fresh Pembrokeshire potatoes of our supper in our thoughts, as we drifted off to sleep.

Thursday started a little overcast and rough, so we abandoned our trip around St Ann’s Head and sailed back to West Angel. We purchased breakfast in the local shop and cooked it on the wet sandy beach as the tide retreated. The rest of the day was spent sailing the estuary, calling in at Milford Haven for fuel and ice-cream treats, and returning to Dale where we had booked in at the local guest house for a lobster supper and B-and-B. The local fishermen specialise in shellfish, and Laurence Riley, the proprietor, is one of the key men in the fishing fraternity. The evening was a great success, my daughter particularly enjoying a hot shower and clean bed.

Friday brought another clear blue sky, warm rays of sun and a keen sea breeze, which we used to take us east, over the ebbing tide to Sandy Haven. We beached the boat 30 minutes before low tide and walked across the flat hard sand to the little beck that feeds this part of the estuary. We paddled up the stream; the water was warm, and the small fish darted between our feet, with small crabs slipping under stones as we waded up to the little quay.

On our return to the boat, which lay at least half a mile from the high tide mark, we made a quick brew while the flood tide lapped at the stern of the boat. It was afloat by the time the last sip of tea was consumed and we set sail to Milford Haven to buy the ingredients for supper and make contact with colleagues in Pembroke dock, arranging a rendezvous at 6 pm for a beer in the Jolly Sailor at Nayham, just above the Haven bridge, which looks at times like a giant giraffe stepping across the river. After a drink and a good chat to catch up on all the local news, we motored against the tide up to Burton Quay, where we cooked steak and new potatoes washed down with another bottle of red wine. A local befriended us as we ate our dinner on the jetty, joining us for some wine. He offered us his mooring for the night which we happily accepted. As we packed up the plates and cutlery, we felt a change in the weather creeping in from the west. Grey clouds, a strong westerly wind and moisture in the air portrayed the end of our ‘Pembroke Summer’.

It rained heavily during the night and we packed up our wet tent on a cold and grey morning. We motored back to Lawrenny making ourselves ready for the journey home. It was actually quite acceptable to leave this delightful haven and waterway, having enjoyed five continuous days of sunshine, not much wind, but the balmy summer atmosphere made up for that and added to our adventure and exploration of this beautiful part of Britain.