Terceira to Cornwall
6th to 17th June
After a bus trip to Praia on the island of Terceira (when it poured with rain all day but still looked pretty – though not nearly as fine as Angra), I left next day, bound for Britain. Nine and a half days later, just after midnight, I rounded the Lizard and reached Falmouth.
Falmouth was packed with boats. It’s Classics Weekend – meaning dozens and dozens of beautiful old sailing boats all over the place, but impossible in darkness to find a spot to stop – and so I meandered in moonlight a few miles upstream to a calm anchorage in Channal’s Creek, overlooked by National Trust’s Trelissick House, and then in the peaceful early hours enjoyed a giant glass of Antiguan rum.
It had been a varied ocean voyage from the Azores with busy days and nights, almost continuously (or so it seemed) reefing/unreefing/altering course. Mainsail clew tore off its webbing straps when half way, so, until managing a crude repair, I sailed with only the genoa for almost 500 miles.
For me, ocean voyages are far too long. In fact, anything more than a day trip of about 40 miles is too long. I’d rather have a good night’s sleep, have an early morning and leisurely pot of tea, see if the weather looks cheery and, if so, set sail along a pretty coastline with sunshine and birdlife for a few daylight hours, reach a calm and secure anchorage, have another pot of tea, later watch sunset with fresh food and a glass of plonk, then go to bed. In short, I don’t like the dark; human beings are meant to be asleep at night when it’s dark, not hauling in sails and watching out for ships. But the world wasn’t made that way, so before long I’ll have to do more of these long ocean trips.
After a weekend in Truro and Falmouth, it’s as if I’ve never been away. People I meet in Cornwall are as delightful as those I’ve met anywhere. Fine food is good, varied, cheap and plentiful. Scenery and wildlife is wonderful. And, since arrival here has coincided with both Classics Weekend and a shanty-singing festival, the streets and pubs of Falmouth are fun and busy, and chocabloc with hairy sea salty folk and lusty bearded singers, and beautiful women’s choirs too and quality buskers. Anna came and joined me in Truro so it’s been a treat to have company and shared experience once more. (In case you’re interested, first experience was Wetherspoons, Truro, for fish and chips and pint of Doombar – it really is as if I’ve not been away!)
I’ve had plenty of time to reflect upon these months afloat, living peacably and mainly alone on “Henrietta”. I’ll not burden you now with what I’ve learnt of the sea or me, or other places and people; what I’ve enjoyed or missed; where my life is enriched or shrunken. Without the detail and the secrets, I must conclude that for folk like me, for now, the sailing life is best. (Just need to sort the EU question, then fix my boat and body, see family and friends, and see what happens next.)