evening time onboard Arwen

I love camping. Always have, ever since I was a young kid. I love the hiss of a trangia stove, that sudden ‘phut’ sound as the meths flame suddenly enlarges. I know there are people who would argue that there are better stoves than trangias but hey I’ve grown up with them; I love their simplicity and reliability. Scandinavian design – classic, simple lines. If you understand the inherent dangers in using meths as a fuel then you can cook some great meals.

I arrived on buoy at the entrance to Pont Pill in Fowey around 7.30pm. Within half an hour, the tarp had been strung up and the stove assembled. A cup of tea had materialised and I had been able to organise things in the ‘tent’ ready for the night. Meal time was simple – soup, followed by spaghetti and meatballs, then fruit and custard. Some time was spent admiring the view from a sitting position on the front deck.

My neighbours were varied and many. On the port side was a small motorboat with a canvas awning at the back. From within the depths of the rear cockpit of this boat, a very kind couple invited me across for a coffee; offered to fill my thermos flask for the night and wanted to make sure I had everything for breakfast for the following morning. What a really kind gesture. I declined but chatted for a while, explaining I had everything and that I’d be going to bed soon after a 10 hr sailing day. They fully understood, admired Arwen, marvelled that anyone would be daft enough to sail so far in a small open boat and then sleep under a tarpaulin and wished me a good night. I was overwhelmed by their good natured humour and spirit of generosity. On the starboard side were large sailing boats 35’ upwards – rafted 4 deep. Lots of laughter from cockpits and clinking of glasses....but not one glance or acknowledgement. Funny old world – the sailing community isn’t it!!

As dusk fell and the last embers of a setting sun fell behind Fowey hill, brass band music started up and floated across the still ria waters. Big film score tunes drifted across whilst from the little motor cruiser on my port side came Spanish guitar music. Both were excellent but I leaned more towards the Spanish guitar despite being an ex-trumpet player myself. Little rib tenders zipped in and out of the large boats and then calm descended. The little water taxi plied its trade between boats and shore and dark slowly descended. The water turned from a pinkish haze (reflection of the sun) to a deepish grey-green; the odd duck drifted close by hoping for a small titbit thrown overboard.

I’ve never managed to be a scrupulously organised person and this is reflected in the way my cockpit looks under the awning. In the aft foot well starboard side goes the cooking gear – readied for the morning breakfast. Across the starboard thwart goes stuff I may want during the night – book, torch, radio, mobile phone, spare woolly jumper. On the aft thwart goes a change of clothes and waterproofs ready for the morning. Front of starboard thwart and centre case in front cockpit are bucket and bailer; spare mooring fenders and warps and the mooring pole.

I sleep on the port thwart. Over the years I have managed to survive sleeping with a wife who sleeps diagonally across the bed. I am used to sleeping in a 12 inch space!! My head faces the bow, slightly raised on a cushion. I have a ‘Black’s’ thermomat (self inflating), a gortex bivvy bag which is now 30 years old (wow) and a RAB duck down sleeping bag which is also 30 years old and still going strong. All the clothes are in roll down waterproof bags. A plastic sheet lies across the starboard thwart in case the tarp leaks during the night.

And that is that......it seems to work OK for me. The tarp is strung under or over the boom and folded sails –along a rope slung between the two masts. I leave a slight gap and opening at the front and back which allows a good airflow and avoids condensation issues. Rain doesn’t seem to get in. I use a small broom handle tied at right angles to the boom to spread out the tarp sides giving plenty of headroom.

The last time I remember seeing on my watch was 10.15pm.....................

Morning came early. I slept well until around 5am when I needed a wee and then I couldn’t get back to sleep. This was partially due to a very irritating cockerel on the shores of Polruan which crowed incessantly from 5am onwards. A quick peek out over the bow showed a dark, overcast day dawning with some ominous looking cumulonimbus clouds towering above the Fowey bay area – ah ha.......rain then! Pretty warm, no condensation, no rain leaks, everything dry inside the tent – so some bonuses for the day break then. I was still attached to the mooring buoy.....I always feel somewhat surprised and relieved that I am still where I was when I fell asleep. Can’t explain why!

Breakfast was a brew of tea, beans sausages and bacon and some biscuits. It took an hour to have breakfast, wash up, enjoy the morning view and pack away everything in to their water proof bags. Safely stored under the front deck and side decks, there was time to review charts, listen to a radio weather broadcast and check that all halyards, sail ties, etc were safe and where they should be. I watched a large china clay boat navigate its way through the channel. It seemed HUGE in such a small channel – literally filling it side to side in some places. Fowey port pilots earn their money there is no doubt about that. At 7.45am it gave several blasts on a very large horn........somewhat inconsiderate I thought.......given the hundreds of sailors who still seemed sound asleep in their boats (although in truth I thought it was funny and quite enjoyed some of the bleary eyed, heavy heads that poked through cockpits to have a look).

Time to get moving. It took three pulls to get my engine going this morning not ist customary two!  Pull three, it fired and held for a few seconds and died. A wait of a few minutes......pull four it coughed in to life and held. I moved the choke until I found the optimum position and held my breath. The engine coughed, spluttered and warmed up to a decent little chugging sound. That was better. I'd obviously in my not wide awake state used too much choke and flooded the engine. well there is a first time for everything! A sense of relief because it was quite clear to me, we were packed in so densely that I would never have been able to sail out of there...apart from which there was the barest of breezes anyway!

After a few minutes waiting for my little engine to regain some form of life, I walked the mooring buoy down the starboard side, slipped the warps and coiled them and drifted backwards on the current. We turned to starboard and squeezed our way through the boats towards the rubbish skips floating pontoon. Dumping my camp rubbish, Arwen turned her bow towards the estuary entrance and we slipped away in the early morning, with barely a wake.

I like departing harbours early. Ninety percent of the time, you have the place to yourself. Any others up and about are locals, harbour master teams, local fishermen with their varying sized multi coloured small boats. My seaward progress was accompanied by some ducks for a short spell, still ever hopeful that a small titbit would find its way over the port deck. I felt really guilty for I had saved nothing for them. A few cream custard biscuits seemed to satisfy them though and it appeased my guilt. The crew of the ‘Earl of Pembroke’ were up and about. People were scurrying across her varying decks pulling on ropes and moving some of the big spars about......readying for a later departure. I’ve sailed on the ‘Earl of Pembroke’ a couple of years ago – it was a birth treat for my Dad. It was a morning cruise around Charlestown Bay shared with forty others. Despite that, we actually rather enjoyed it. The ship’s crew were experienced, varied and interesting; the boat was fascinating; you could join in as much or as little as you liked setting sails and pulling on ropes. It did give a small insight in to what it must have been like to sail such boats during the 1800’s.

At 8.20am Arwen reached the harbour entrance and we ploughed into the first waves. Winds were picking up, rain bursts and showers could be seen on the horizon. We motored out for about a mile and then pointed into the wind. Raising sails, and turning to the east, Arwen eased herself in to a beam reach at 4.5 kts. Wind was from the south, directly abeam...........if this was to continue it should be a good brisk sail home. I reduced engine throttle, pulled the kill cord and my little engine stopped; and peace descended to that lovey swushing sound as a sail boat passes through the waves.

Steve