Dinghy cruising: sailing the river Fal - Falmouth Adventures: Day Two Leaving The Smugglers Inn and heading south

Drip, drip, drip, drip. The musical accompaniment to my first night afloat. It started raining late evening and didn't stop until late afternoon the following day.

that bucket was overused during the night........!!



A pattern. A million circles scattered randomly across deep, slow flowing, grey-green rivers. Mullet bumping the hull at night. The rising winds blowing in the starboard side of the tarp tent until it bowed so much that half the space in the boat was lost. The constant drumming patter of rain on the tarp; the getting up in the night to check mooring warps and retying bow and stern springs. Through the opening at the stern, glimpses of cows on the hillside above, heads down grazing, silhouetted against the dark night sky. The occasional ominous rumble of distant thunder. The screech of wind through masts and the interminable clanking of wires against aluminium masts. Arwen tugged at her moorings. Fenders squealed in protest as she banged back against the pontoon.

It was a long night!

still raining next morning

just lie back on the cushions and do some reading!

The rain and wind stayed all morning. I sensed that further downstream things would be wilder and these fears were confirmed with the arrival back of ZaZu. Tied up at the hammerhead, her disembarking crew ere quick to advise staying put for a few hours more. Carrick Roads was 'choppy'!

I had breakfast, hot porridge with giant raisins and sultanas, hot sweet tea, and more hovis biscuit.  I strolled around the foreshore. Scandinavians say 'there is no such thing as bad weather...only bad clothing'. Um! To a point. My foulies held rain at bay. I was snug and warm. And dry! I sat under the carport and made tea; I read more from 'The lugworm Chronicles'.

 I scrutinised charts and re-read my pilotage drawings and notes. I planned afternoon sailing routes - a variety of options depending on the wind. I studied the swallows swooping low across the water and return at high speed to their nests in the carport rafters above my head. A grandstand , front row seat for some spectacular aerial acrobatics. Boy those swallow chicks are demanding!

low tide

Some would find all this boring. I found it relaxing, such is my normal hectic pace of work life, the chance to have no one around, time to oneself.......it is treasured.

Swans visited; hissing and searching under the tarpaulin edges for some tasty morsels and titbits. They eyed me suspiciously. I clearly wasn't playing the game. I studiously ignored them. Arwen sits only some 40 cms above the water line and Swans heads easy come up to deck level if not slightly above. I love swans but past experiences have taught me - don't feed them, they come back for more and get really irritable if they don't get it! And so a few minutes later some highly disappointed swans departed, their graceful necks making S shapes, the occasional head turned backwards with forlorn looks.

And finally, around 2pm, the weather broke. The winds dropped, the rain eased and we made our break. Our aim, to row, motor and sail back downriver to Mylor, stopping off on the way at Restronguet Creek.

I was sorry to depart The Smugglers Inn. It was a beautiful, hospitable place run by a lovely couple and I will be back.....hopefully when it isn't raining!

The Smugglers Inn

Good luck to Clive and Ellie on their business ventures