Followers of this blog will know that I have been doing a periodic series of blog posts or video vlogs about sailing around the various creeks of the Kingsbridge estuary. Previous videos can be found as a playlist at
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4ru7c7wAAWxMPbr0vyVPZF-feuTzcErb
Last Monday found me at Batson Creek rigging Arwen in warm morning sunshine and blue skies. The ramp wasn't particularly busy, mainly local businesses launching or retrieving big ribs - for it is now tourist and second home visitor season - so there was plenty of pontoon space for me to tie up Arwen whilst I delivered the trailer to the trailer park and parked the car further along the creek road.
High tide had been at 0534, a 4.66m height and by the time I had launched and cast off, we were well on our way towards low tide at 1148. We gently motored past the fish quay, with the small refrigerated lorries loading up the morning crab and lobster catch, down past the lifeboat station, where a crew were servicing the inshore lifeboat on its ramp and out past the busy Normandy and Whitestrand pontoon at the town centre.
Given I couldn't start up SouthPool Creek until two hours before the evening high tide, I sought out a space on the inside finger berths of the Whitestrand pontoon, grateful for the welcoming hand of one of the dinghy cruising association members who happened to be there by coincidence. He grabbed Arwen's bowsprit as I turned tightly into the finger pontoon berth, slowing her considerably. Arwen's outboard does have reverse - you basically turn the whole outboard around - so it isn't very effective in close manoeuvring situations to be honest. Thus I avoided an embarrassing 'clunk' of bow against pontoon. A good thing as it seemed to be very busy at one end.
Mooring warps deployed, bow, stern and a spring, a short stroll to the pontoon end revealed the cause of all the excitement. In front of assembled sailors, visitors, family and press were the two intrepid dinghy sailors who had just broken, well smashed really, the 32 day circumnavigation record of the UK in a dinghy. They had achieved a new record by non stop sailing - completing the voyage in sixteen days continually at sea. A remarkable achievement eliciting huge respect and admiration from all present. It put my planned tiny voyage in perspective!
After listening in to the interviews, briefly admiring the boat, a 60 year old wayfarer, and then pausing to admire the interesting design and aesthetics of the dinghy cruising association members self designed rowing boat, I tired of the crowds and went looking for the open space and clean air of the outer estuary. Conscious of all the crowds and under the gaze of way too many people for my liking, I managed to back Arwen out of the finger berth, turn through a right angle, start the engine and move off safely without embarrassment or ending up stranded on the rapidly emerging mud banks to one side. Phew!
I raised sails just north of Wolf Rock at the outer end of the fairway, and used the north westerly winds to blow me on a reach across the bar and into the outer estuary. Slate blue waters lapped the steep foreboding entrance cliffs with their carpet of thick woods or further out to sea, a delightfully steep grassland meadow of tall daisys, heathers, grasses and vetches, wind rippled surfaces, jumping mackerel and sparkly diamond sunshine reflections. Wide open expanses of water with gentle swells that gently lift and drop Arwen's bow and stern.
Big yachts came into the shelter of the towering western cliffs, turning head to wind to lower their sails before motoring into the inner fairway. Local inshore fishing boats drifted across the bar seeking out mackerel, the successful ones followed by flcoks of noisy gulls hoping fro a dropped freebie. CH4 incessantly squawked - incoming yachts asking for berths and keeping the harbour patrol boats busy with their endless requests for particular berths in particular locations of the estuary.
Arwen and I headed out towards Prawle Point to the east, the north-westerly force 3 breeze filling her mainsail, the gurgling of water beneath her hull as we made 4 kts. I didn't bother with jib and mizzen. Sometimes it is just nice to sail with minimum of fuss, lines and sails to control. The sail fills and sags as winds build and ebb away.
At 1500, we gybe and head back towards the estuary and the flooding tide over the bar in a series of short tacks to make ground against the shifting, fluky breezes blowing down the valleys of the South and North Sands beaches. As winds shift rapidly, deflected by cliffsides, wooded areas and shoreside buildings, at times we stall in a tack, stopping head to wind, the top part of the sail flapping madly as it sags. Judicious use of downhaul, backing of jib and even a hand pushing or pulling the boom, takes through the tack. At one point I even reverse tiller and backward sail to get out of a stall. Forty minutes later we slip past the fuel barge, drop mainsail with alacrity and quickly paddle alongside a vacant mooring buoy close to Ditch End beach on the eastern shoreline. The white painter with its oversized snap hook is pushed through the buoy ring and bought back inboard and secured.
And there, hidden away from the hustle and bustle, I spend a fun half hour people and boat watching, waiting for the tide to build a little more before starting up SouthPool Creek.
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4ru7c7wAAWxMPbr0vyVPZF-feuTzcErb
Last Monday found me at Batson Creek rigging Arwen in warm morning sunshine and blue skies. The ramp wasn't particularly busy, mainly local businesses launching or retrieving big ribs - for it is now tourist and second home visitor season - so there was plenty of pontoon space for me to tie up Arwen whilst I delivered the trailer to the trailer park and parked the car further along the creek road.
High tide had been at 0534, a 4.66m height and by the time I had launched and cast off, we were well on our way towards low tide at 1148. We gently motored past the fish quay, with the small refrigerated lorries loading up the morning crab and lobster catch, down past the lifeboat station, where a crew were servicing the inshore lifeboat on its ramp and out past the busy Normandy and Whitestrand pontoon at the town centre.
Hidden away a lovely old fishing boat
Moored just to the north of me at Ditching End beach
Mooring warps deployed, bow, stern and a spring, a short stroll to the pontoon end revealed the cause of all the excitement. In front of assembled sailors, visitors, family and press were the two intrepid dinghy sailors who had just broken, well smashed really, the 32 day circumnavigation record of the UK in a dinghy. They had achieved a new record by non stop sailing - completing the voyage in sixteen days continually at sea. A remarkable achievement eliciting huge respect and admiration from all present. It put my planned tiny voyage in perspective!
They stayed at sea for 16 days non-stop in a 60 yr old wayfarer!
After listening in to the interviews, briefly admiring the boat, a 60 year old wayfarer, and then pausing to admire the interesting design and aesthetics of the dinghy cruising association members self designed rowing boat, I tired of the crowds and went looking for the open space and clean air of the outer estuary. Conscious of all the crowds and under the gaze of way too many people for my liking, I managed to back Arwen out of the finger berth, turn through a right angle, start the engine and move off safely without embarrassment or ending up stranded on the rapidly emerging mud banks to one side. Phew!
I raised sails just north of Wolf Rock at the outer end of the fairway, and used the north westerly winds to blow me on a reach across the bar and into the outer estuary. Slate blue waters lapped the steep foreboding entrance cliffs with their carpet of thick woods or further out to sea, a delightfully steep grassland meadow of tall daisys, heathers, grasses and vetches, wind rippled surfaces, jumping mackerel and sparkly diamond sunshine reflections. Wide open expanses of water with gentle swells that gently lift and drop Arwen's bow and stern.
Big yachts came into the shelter of the towering western cliffs, turning head to wind to lower their sails before motoring into the inner fairway. Local inshore fishing boats drifted across the bar seeking out mackerel, the successful ones followed by flcoks of noisy gulls hoping fro a dropped freebie. CH4 incessantly squawked - incoming yachts asking for berths and keeping the harbour patrol boats busy with their endless requests for particular berths in particular locations of the estuary.
Arwen and I headed out towards Prawle Point to the east, the north-westerly force 3 breeze filling her mainsail, the gurgling of water beneath her hull as we made 4 kts. I didn't bother with jib and mizzen. Sometimes it is just nice to sail with minimum of fuss, lines and sails to control. The sail fills and sags as winds build and ebb away.
At 1500, we gybe and head back towards the estuary and the flooding tide over the bar in a series of short tacks to make ground against the shifting, fluky breezes blowing down the valleys of the South and North Sands beaches. As winds shift rapidly, deflected by cliffsides, wooded areas and shoreside buildings, at times we stall in a tack, stopping head to wind, the top part of the sail flapping madly as it sags. Judicious use of downhaul, backing of jib and even a hand pushing or pulling the boom, takes through the tack. At one point I even reverse tiller and backward sail to get out of a stall. Forty minutes later we slip past the fuel barge, drop mainsail with alacrity and quickly paddle alongside a vacant mooring buoy close to Ditch End beach on the eastern shoreline. The white painter with its oversized snap hook is pushed through the buoy ring and bought back inboard and secured.
Sweet lines and elegance
The privately owned beach at Ditch End
Waiting for the tide to build........
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