Author: fiandadrian (Page 1 of 13)

The time had come to move on to the French coast where we were hoping to leave Away over winter. But our time at anchor had allowed our annual end of season rethink (we always end up changing our winter location). Visas, dogs, family and accommodation costs meant it would be more sensible to return to Falmouth.

A solid north easter ruled out a trip to Alderney which has little protection from that direction. But it did promise a fast sail across the channel. A local mentioned that once we past the overfalls it should be reasonably comfortable. Sorry, what overfalls? We couldn’t find mention of any overfalls north of Guernsey in any of our guide books and no rough water markers on the chart. We even read an article by a local saying they had never encountered overfalls in this area.

The 20-30 knots of north easterly wind met 4 knots of spring tide flushing us out of the Little Russel channel. We soon spotted a line of breaking waves. For the following half hour we tried to set the speed fast enough that we could control the boat and not turn side on the the waves, but slow enough as to spend as much time in contact with the water as possible.

We were making good progress and decided to head for the Dart. We found a visitors pontoon which was mostly empty this time of year. Apart from the naval college on the hill and associated maritime comings and goings there was a steam train chuffing in and out of the station across the river. It even accepted dogs possessing the appropriate ticket.

We enjoyed an explore up river on the local ferry and went for a walk.

However, soon it was time to begin the trip west towards Falmouth. A quick passage to Plymouth was in order as we had never been there and the weather wasn’t looking too great.

Leaving Plymouth for Fowey was a beautiful day. Except we did manage to pick up some weed in the thruhull for the engine cooling. Our fancy new exhaust temperature sensor alerted us and Adrian went for a quick swim, in a wetsuit, and cleared the weed before we have a repeat of this years shenanigans.

After our beautiful walk in Fowey, it was time. Time to accept the season was over and we’d had an unlucky year. Time to accept that we didn’t get to France. No matter, there are other ways. Off we trot to Falmouth and our winter berth.

Next time we make up for not getting to France by boat by going to France by boat…

Last time we had been engine testing and exploring some of the Cornish coast. The time had come to use the remainder of the season to head south to France. First we wanted to visit the Channel Islands. We had ‘visited’ Sark, one of the Channel Islands, during Covid, but had not been able to go ashore or visit any of the other islands.

Tides are everything in this area and we could only leave Penryn around high tide (given that Away sits in the mud here until the high water comes in) which wasn’t the best time to head along the coast as the current would be pushing against us. Therefore, it seemed like an ideal opportunity to visit the often recommended Pandora Inn for dinner before catching the tide along the coast the next morning.

Bernie was so popular at the pub, while Adrian was ordering at the bar, a fellow asked Fi if he could breed with him. After a pause, Fi realised he was wanting puppies with his own springer spaniel, who incidentally was a boy. So after Fi explained that despite his feminine looks, he’s a boy as well, but has had the chop chop, we all had a laugh about spaniel antics, and he was on his way, perhaps to harass other pretty springer owners.

The next day, sailing along the coast, we passed Plymouth which has a big naval presence and a live firing range just offshore. A German warship announced it was about to start firing as we passed but we didn’t see any explosions.

It had been suggested that ‘If you want to visit Plymouth, go the the River Yealm and take a taxi’. Indeed the Yealm was another delightfully protected river along this stretch of coast. Strong tidal currents and range meant mooring buoys and mid stream pontoons are the normal fare. There was even a sand bar across the river entrance to remind us of home. The channel is so hidden in the plethora of moored boats, we were motoring slowly along following the “water” behind a row boat who was looking quizzically at us as we edged closer and closer to the shallows. Realising, Fi pointed out the port marker, and a quick turn, and a laugh and head shake from the rower, Away was back on the correct track. I guess they see that a lot here.

We take the dinghy over to the harbour office pontoon, for our little wander through town and to give Bernie a much needed walk. Before we knew it we were at the first pub the “Dolphin Inn” eating yet another pub meal with a pint.

Not content that we had properly “earned” our pub meal and pint, we walked the long way around, to yet another pub, called “The Swan Inn” where we felt perhaps we could earn another pint.

And then finally, we felt we better earn that pint and walk to the third pub the “Ship Inn” for the final pint of the day before we then earned that pint, walking the long way back around because by this time the tide had come in and we were cut off – from walking. Not beer.

Bernie found a woodland area that was looked after by locals and tried to make us chase squirrels. We wandered through the streets. Many of the cottages had been replaced with modern glass boxes that would look at home in Sydney’s harbour suburbs. Like many of the Cornish seaside villages we’d visited, so many properties are now holidays homes or holiday lets. It seemed like every second property had a key box outside.

Feeling a little more confident as to where the channel is in the River Yealm, and also about how the tide flows, we left at a reasonable time in the morning after a couple of days enjoying the serenity. The Yealm is so packed with moored boats, and the tide runs so fast, they have some tips and tricks in their cruising guide as to how to avoid collisions.

Next stop along the coast was Salcombe. From Salcombe it would be a doable day hop across the channel to the Channel Islands.

We sailed the 4 or so hours over to Salcombe, and came through the tight channel that denotes the “deep” water to the west of yet another giant sandbar that crosses the harbour entrance, and were promptly met with the harbour master who just said “how can we help you?” – whilst this greeting was not what we expected, we simply said we needed water and a mooring place, and were helpfully guided to both.

Salcombe is a very pretty place, and after a few days, which included taking the bus to the vets for Bernie’s annual shots, we were looking at a good weather window to make the channel crossing.

Next time we finally get to visit the Channel Islands!

If you managed to read to the end of the previous blog, you would have noted that the kind Volvo people told us not to start our engine, and that they would come and tow us from the Helford River where we were anchored just south from Falmouth. Something was dreadfully wrong with our engine again.

We spent another couple of days on anchor in Helford, enjoying the area, waiting for our lift.

On the Monday (22nd July) they came, and we tried out our still in original packaging tow line, lifted anchor and were towed from Helford up to Penryn, which is up the river from Falmouth. It was a strange feeling. Obviously to all observing, we were being towed, to be honest it was a little embarrassing, but I guess it happens.

Towed up to Penryn, we settled into our berth which I found out later is the “very broken boat” berth. We discussed the ins and outs of what would happen, and agreed that getting a whole new engine was the best way to go. We had to get a new gearbox anyway as Volvo had recalled ours, and clearly our engine was pretty upset given the oil level was now about 20cm above max and looking like a lovely mixture of coolant, oil and seawater – and we hadn’t even switched it on. For peace of mind, new engine.

Begin the cardboarding of the interal structures in Away for protection, discussing how to get the old one out, ordering of new lifts and things for the yard, discussions about aluminium boats and insulating electricity, discussions with Garcia, and eventually, the fateful day where we leave the yard and have some time in a hotel in town. Feeling confident, its best we leave the experts to do what they do. I know I would be bothering them asking a million questions, so I’m happy to let them get on with it.

A few days later, we are invited back to Away, happily humming with the sound of her new Volvo Penta D275. Complete with an extra temperature sensor.

Off we go to commission the new engine which involves monitoring speed and revs, getting it up to the highest revs and checking temperatures and for leaks etc.

All seems well. We do some more sea trials and the optimism starts to creep in again. We are all feeling a lot more comfortable, the engine sounds brilliant and the new gearbox is a lot quieter.

So we went sailing on someone elses boat… Actually we were invited to go out racing for Falmouth Week in the Champagne Race. We came third in that, and our friends came second overall for the week. It was a fun day in the sun!

As our confidence grows, we take a trip over to Fowey in Away (pronounced “Foy“) and enjoy the local sights and sounds.

And as I type this, we are finalising the collection of various packages, planning a good clean of Away, and looking at weather windows to finally get on and do what we do.

We want to find out what happened to the old engine. No one seems to know. Not the 5 engineers we have spoken to, not Volvo, not us. There are many theories being banded about, but none of them quite fit. What we do know is we are very happy with this better kind of normal we find ourselves in. The engine does sound overall better.