And so it is the end of an era.
Arwen has been collected and is heading to new home waters. Pulled off the steep driveway for the last time yesterday; tarpaulins taken off her for the last time, this morning. I have packed her cockpit with oars, yards, boom, mainsail and mizzen mast/sail for the last time. Waved her off, such a strange feeling. The driveway looks vast and empty. Something is missing from the street/housescape.
But, Arwen is going to a good home where there is a five year old who wants to be the next 'Moana', apparently! And a Daddy who knows how to sail properly and how to restore a wooden boat to its former glory. Sounds perfect!
An eighteen year era.
I built a boat and then learned to sail a laser and wayfarer. I relearned how to sail a standing lug yawl Welsford 'navigator', although in fairness, I think we can all agree - I had a 'unique, uninformed, unorthodox' sailing style! I learned basic sea navigation and surprisingly gained RYA dinghy sailing and Day Skipper qualifications.
I kept this blog for over sixteen years, charting our adventures together. Hundreds of thousands of page views. A YouTube channel vlogger for fifteen years with a few thousand subscribers and some very dodgy videography; some 'dubious' articles in various sailing publications and internet 'sailing sites'. A detailed logbook of all our voyages undertaken both short and long. A scrapbook full of annotated photographs of other navigators; and of course, photos of Arwen's construction in a garage barely wider than her beam.
So many adventures together, so much water under the hull. Arwen has been a major part of my life since 2007. I built her with no previous woodworking or boat building experiences to draw on; saved on several occasions by my Dad and Father-in-law, both skilled engineers. The argument with my Dad over a 2mm gap between transom and top plank. His insistence that there wasn't a gap drawn on the plans and so the plank should be recut; my argument that God invented epoxy for such 'gap filling' eventualities. A tense thirty minute stand-off - amicably resolved over a cuppa! Memories!
How the family laughed the night they realised I hadn't come up from the garage below because I had inadvertently glued my T shirt and stomach to the the boat whilst using fast setting epoxy and applying human pressure to hold a springy gunwale in place. Don't ask! Truly a painful experience for body and ego! They still talk about it at any chance, eighteen years on! Day sails with family and friends aboard; spins around my beautiful, beloved, stunning Plymouth Sound. The 'annual day sail' with my wonderful wife. She felt she had to show 'willing' once a year!
Countless nights sleeping aboard, looking up at the clear star studded skies. Small campfires on secluded, inaccessible river beaches to the musical soundscape of a hissing Trangia stove and Radio 4 on a windup radio. Anchored in the little creeks amongst extensive reedbeds with only the wildfowl and marsh birds for company. Caught out on falling tides, stranded on mud and sand banks in the middle of tidal rivers when I miscalculated the edge of the deeper water channels or had lost my bamboo depth pole. Rowing through the wraith like river mists on cold early mornings up the little tributaries as the sun peeked above the horizon, when there was no wind and just the ripples from jumping mackerel.
The time I jumped out of Arwen on Cellars beach thinking it was only 3' deep, only to disappear below the surface because I'd jumped into a 'hole in the beach' dug by an overzealous dad earlier that day! My 'Vicar of Dibley' puddle moment. Or subjected to THAT thirty minute lecture, tied up alongside the pontoon at Salcombe. About how I was clearly an idiot because I didn't know what boat I was sailing. It was obviously a drascombe and my 70 year old 'berator' knew her boats, had owned several drascombes and clearly knew one when she saw one! All in front of a large crowd of tourists. My only relief coming from her husband who whispered as he sidled by "At least you don't live with her - always loved a Welsford boat. Well done Sir, stunning craft".
Almost losing the outboard whilst motoring under the Tamar bridge; the outboard mount I'd built suddenly breaking for no reason at all. Thank heavens I'd tied the engine onto a bracket inside the coaming! Terrifying!
All the times people have come to admire Arwen. "What boat is she? What a lovely design? Where do you sail her? You built her? You sleep onboard - amazing?" The times when cruising inshore between Dartmouth and Falmouth, a yacht has slid alongside to enquire "Are you lost? Do you need help? Its really not safe for you to be out here!"
So many wildlife experiences. The scary encounter on 'Canadian Goose' beach when I ran out of water and encountered the wrath of goose sentries. Chased around a boat by geese! Bonkers! Otters and ospreys in the upper reaches of the Tamar, porpoise and minke whales gliding alongside Arwen's hull in the outer sound; serenity and a humbling experience all in one. Nothing prepared me for the full on assault and exhilaration of the berserk feeding frenzy of Blue Atlantic Tuna shoals all around Arwen. Diving gannets, curious seals, tired bumblebees and butterflies calling in for a rest stop on her decks. Jellyfish the size of dustbins drifting by. The oddity that are sunfish going with the tidal flow off Rame Head. The garfish that once jumped out of the water and into her cockpit; not sure who was more surprised, me or it! The sheer enormity of a basking shark cruising beneath Arwen's keel. The sparrow who joined me for a daysail and uninvited, ate my cheese and marmite sandwiches. Instantly forgiven, for having such exquisite culinary tastes.
I won't miss the bouts of seasickness. The only dinghy cruiser who clears a breakwater and is instantly seasick. Embarrassing, so embarrassing.
All the wonderful and highly valued conversations and friendships made over the internet with fellow Welsford enthusiasts, 'navigator' owners and fellow dinghy cruisers worldwide. Their advice, banter, enthusiasm and deep experiences willingly shared with me. So deeply appreciated.
And none of it would have taken place without the continued patience and endless positive encouragement of John Welsford himself. How many times over the years must the poor man have inwardly cringed watching me 'butcher' his extraordinary design - both in its building and sailing! The man is a true legend, a good generous friend.
So, its time to draw things to a close. Have I become a better sailor? No! Have I become more knowledgeable about sailing, navigation and small sailing boats? Of course not! Its me - in one ear - out the other. There is a reason my family nicknamed me '10-second Steve'. Hopeless memory!
But, have I had fun? Always!
Thank you for following this blog. Thank you for subscribing to the YouTube channel, even if it was just for laughs and insights on how NOT to sail - and there were loads of those weren't there! Thank you for all your advice, tips, enthusiasm, encouragement. For answering the dimmest and most basic of questions. For not making me feel more stupid than I was already feeling.
For eighteen years I have been a dinghy cruising imposter but I hope that somewhere I encouraged a few of you to build your own boat, or to get out there and just try it.
The voyages of Steve and Arwen have come to an end. Arwen's adventures on the coastal seas, however, will continue. Arwen, there is a young 'Moana of Motunui' and her Dad, who 'have crossed a horizon to find you'. 'They are voyagers with a whole new ocean to explore'. You will be in safe, loving hands. (Watch the film, hear the words 😁)
Fair winds to you all, stay safe, and thank you for sharing your time to come on our voyages with us. We have valued your friendships. It has been a blast.
Steve and Arwen
PS - there will be one more post on this blog in a few weeks - tips on how to sell or buy a small sailing boat! 😄 After that, the blog will remain as a reference source for anyone wanting to sail Plymouth Sound and the Tamar waters. I may dip back in occasionally if I have anything worth posting about small traditional sailing boats.