And here we are Padstow Red Roo’s registered home port – a milestone!!!  The boat has never been here (until now) being built and brought in France however when purchased it had to be re-registered and with Phil having dual passports (UK and Australian) it was easiest to register her in the UK whilst we are travelling in Europe as it is currently open borders (but with Brexit vote looming this may change!).  The reason Padstow was chosen as home port is because it is where his mother Vera grew up, it is very nice to be here and it is a very beautiful harbour and quaint village.

Padstow was also where Red Roo was ran into – yes that is right we were ran into by another boat coming to berth beside us.  Devastating but luckily no hole just a fairly small dent, but highly visible on the red hull as it took all layers of paint off!  The guy was  really sorry (and embarrassed) and although it could have easily been avoided if he had of waited to the berthing master to take his lines as he was instructed to do, he was genuine and we sorted it out that day with him giving us cash for the filler and paint required to fix it.  Sigh!!!!  What more can you say really?  I guess it could have easily been us accidentally hitting someone in one of the many tricky berthing situations we have had so far – an no doubt many more to come.

We didn’t have it as bad as one guy in the harbour however as we woke one morning to find a sunken power boat (small power boat), and what was worse is that we were told it was the second time it had happened to him.  You would have thought he would remember to put the bung in after the first time!!

We also took a dingy ride across the Camel river to the other bank at Trebetherick to visit St Enodoc Church – now restored and used, however it used to be buried in the sand dunes!  Wind-driven sand had formed banks that were almost level with the roof on two sides. From the 16th century to the middle of the 19th century, the church was virtually buried by the dunes and was known locally as “Sinking Neddy” or “Sinkininny Church”. To maintain the tithes required by the church, it had to host services at least once a year, so the vicar and parishioners used to descended into the sanctuary through a hole in the roof. By 1864 it was unearthed and the dunes were stabilised.

Padstow also has the nickname “Padstein” as this is where Rick Stein found his fame and fortune and created his business empire.  All very well and good but the nickname more relates to his now monopolisation of the town with his 13 businesses; 1 cooking school, 3 shops, 4 hotels/accomodation & 5 restaurants!!  Although I had heard of Rick Stein and seen him on television cooking shows occasionally I really didn’t realise how big he was (and his now world wide) empire was.  We didn’t eat at any of his restaurants, bakeries or fish and chip shops (too expensive – yes even the fish and chips were triple that of what we paid at the local chippy) but being someone who loves to cook and learn new things I did lash out and attend a tasting evening at the cookery school.  This was a demonstration evening where the chef cooked for us three far eastern dishes of which we each got a serve as well as unlimited wine.

Phil’s cousins Wendy and Mike still live locally and we very much enjoyed spending time with them as well as Mark, Carolyn & Victoria.  All so very generous with their time and some great days out to visit Trerice National Trust Estate, Polzeath, Port Isaac, Newquay, exploring the coast and towns of Cornwall by car.

Padstow is located 2 nautical miles up the River Camel and back out towards the ocean a little way from town at Trevose Head is the Padstow RNLI station which we visited (twice), each Wednesday they launch their lifeboat for training down the ramp with a large splash into the water – fantastic to watch.  We were also lucky enough to be given a tour onboard their Tamar lifeboat (click here for more information).

The work this fantastic organization and volunteers do saves so many lives, truly inspirational.  It was even more amazing on our second visit when Mike came along and showed us the picture of his great grandfather David Grubb whom is on display at the station as he was Coxwain of the Padstow lifeboat in 1901 and unfortunately both he and his son James perished during a rescue that year leaving behind his wife and 16 surviving children.

Wendy also pulled out some old family photographs of Phils Grandfather Thomas Henry Williams who was a well respected Padstow local.  He was involved in Gig Rowing and a member of the Padstow Blue Oss (see May Day post).  We later visited the Padstow museum and were delighted to see Thomas Henry Williams name second down on one of the old blue Oss staff’s used for May Day meaning he was MC for at least one year of the celebrations.

Lanhydrock House – Another day out on the bikes up the Camel Estury to visit Lanhydrock House another national trust property.  We took the long way to get there (thanks google maps!) but once we eventually found it were really lost for words.

Without doubt the biggest, most well preserved property we were to visit in the UK.  A magnificent mansion originally built in 1620 and constructed from granite, it was the home of Thomas Charles, his wife and 10 children.  Rebuilt after a fire in 1881, 50 rooms are open for the public with 85% of all household goods and furnishings still in the house and on display from when the family handed the property over to the national trust in 1953 (from candlesticks, to cutlery and crockery, pans, suitcases, clothes in the wardrobes, children’s toys in the nursery, tiger skin rugs (with heads) on the floor in the billiards room, paintings, curtains and pretty much everything as they left it).  The granite fireplaces are huge, even the window frames are heavy granite rock, mosaic tiles on the floor, riches that are hard to fathom.  It is hard to describe the sheer size of the property and house, the kitchen for example was 8 separate rooms and that is not including the dining rooms (yes more than one depending on the occasion).  The size of the kitchen rooms were all bigger than many modern lounge rooms, they consisted of; Kitchen, Kitchen Scullery, Bake-house, Pastry Room, Pantry, Meat Larder, Dairy Scullery and Dairy!

The fish are getting bigger (just) but still not big enough to keep, but encouraging none the less.  Passed around lands end (the most south west part of England) to anchor in the bay of St Ives for the night.  Didn’t go to shore just enjoyed the view.  We had wanted to sail to the Scilly Isles (further south west) but the wind wasn’t looking to get out and back and being able to anchor as they are very exposed.

First night back in a marina since arriving in the UK, that’s 30 days not connected to land therefore generating our own power (wind and solar), using our own water supplies etc both impressed that we still had the power bank at 74% when we plugged into shore services.

Newlyn is a fishing port, a very active fishing port with large commercial fishing boats arriving day and night, unloading into semi-trailers and trucks and also a large commercial fishing processing plant on the quay.

We rode our bikes along the coastal bay around to Marazion to visit the national trust property (island and castle) of St Michaels Mount.  Just spectacular.  It has been kept “as is” from when it was donated to the trust over 20 years ago.  It came almost fully furnished and is it very easy to spend the day admiring the gardens, the castle and the interior. Part of the castle and grounds are still lived in by the family (and obviously out of bounds for visitors).  The castle is on an island a couple of kilometers out in the bay and is only accessible via a land spit at low tide.  We took the boat over at high tide then was able to walk back at low tide.  The island was a town/community itself with cottages for castle staff (now national trust caretakers) and back in the day there were rather self-sufficient with their own water, dairy, gardens, etc.  A great day out (despite the rain and wind).

The following day we walked south/west to the next village called “Mousehole” which is a wee little harbour that pretty much dries to a sand beach at low tide, very small, very cute and a nice walk.

Watched the RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Association) do practice drills in the bay in the wet windy weather (but I guess most rescues are done in less than perfect conditions).  The RNLI to England is the equivalent to the Royal Flying Doctor Service in Australia – both critical to the nations in saving lives.   It was interesting to watch them do the helicopter lifts in and out of the water – hopefully we never see them in action for real.

World famous shipping trading harbour with many ships back in the day of sailing ship trade told to sail to Falmouth and await orders.  A great sail on a clear calm bright day.  A slow motor into the bay for the final leg amongst lots of traffic with many yachts and lots of anchored ships, this allowed us to put the line out the back and haul on board the first catch on Red Roo, when I say haul I mean haul it was bigger than a sardine – just!  A tiny weeny mackerel was our first catch but first none the less, we tossed it back to allow it to mature.

We were in the bay on a mooring buoy so again using the dingy to get to shore, and today to increase the challenge we also took the bikes to shore with us in the dingy – talk about a load we must have looked very amusing as the bikes are bigger than the dingy and overhang quite a bit.

The effort was worth it however and we did a huge ride, from Falmouth we headed north to Perranwell and indulged in a beer to wash down our packed lunch of ham sandwiches then headed further inland along the estuary to Feok then up some challenging hills to Trelissick which is a national trust property (we were able to use our memberships for the first time).

Trelissick house is a very large estate the grounds extending all the way down to the river, the house itself is very large and imposing with huge roman columns along the front and it is hard to believe that up until 2.5 years ago it was still a private residence and lived in.  We then crossed the river on the King Harry ferry and rode back to the river entrance catching the last ferry (just) from St Mawes back to Falmouth.

We knew the weather was set to turn for the next day or so with a storm forecast and the ferry team confirmed that no ferries are running for the next two days due to storms.  Also they normally tie up of a night on moorings buoys near us but we noticed that night that they all went up the river well out of sight to what we suspect was more sheltered and secure moorings for them…therefore we knew it must be quite rough the stuff coming our way.  And rough it was, woken around 3am with the sound of howling wind, rain and constant rolling of the boat, having to brace arms and legs against the side of the bunk to stop rolling in bed.  Not a lot of sleep to be had and it continued all through the next day with us boat bound as it wasn’t safe to launch the dingy.  We filled the day in playing cards, listening to the radio and doing not much else other than checking our mooring lines every half hour.  Phil saw some large logs and trees float past being washed down the river which could be nasty if they hit but we were fine.  The highest we saw the wind on our instruments was 65 miles per hour (Force 12 which is winds around 120 kmp/h).

Video taken after things had eased at around 5pm the following day and was only blowing about 35 mph but that is when the fork lightening started which is scary when you are sitting in a metal boat with a 15 m high mast sticking up into the clouds!!  We turned all our power sources off and waited it out, in two minds; one being in ore of the display lighting up the sky then secondly being our vulnerability.  By 8pm is was dark and eerily silent, spooky, it’s amazing how it can be so very wild and uncontrolled and then over like it never happened.

Our final night in Falmouth we went across the bay onto anchor (our very first night at anchor!) at a place called “St Just in Roseland” as the church in this bay was highly recommended by our new friend Roger (from Dartmouth) as a must see, and boy was he correct.  We were both a little speechless as we approached as the scene looked fairy tale like (unfortunately our photos do not do it justice).  The gardens are just amazing, beautiful, old, and perfect without being formal, with the flowers giving off the most beautiful perfume.

We strolled the grounds reading the intricate gravestones and found one dating back to 1757, we also found one for a gentleman born 100 years to the day earlier than Phil with the same profession of engineering – spooky!

The church itself was peaceful and welcoming, not huge like some we have seen but a good size for the small community it serves and modest architecture.  It felt very welcoming and much loved.  Very glad we visited.

35 miles from West of Salcombe is the wee little village of Fowey.  We arrived right on dusk, having not left Salcombe until lunch time to take the tide rather than fight it.  However, we still had a particularly rough couple of miles out over the bar from Salcombe (a big sand bank just out of the mouth that throws the swell around the mouth of the river), and ended up adjusting course to steer into it rather than to take the swell on the side of the boat.

We are now in Cornwall (having previously been in Devon).  Still require the dingy to get to shore as again on a floating pontoon in the river, picture postcard with a very old wobbly cottage on the hill behind us, which looks like an old storage shed converted into a dwelling.  It looked beautiful of an evening with the soft glow of light seeping out the windows and the smoke coming out the chimney.

We enjoyed a lovely bargain priced Sunday roast lunch at the yacht club with all the trimmings during our stay.

Did a big walk from Fowey around to Polkerris along the coastal path.  This took us past Saint Catherines castle with great views out to sea and along past Polridmouth which was a lake used as a decoy during D-Day invations and the black out period.  Fowey would be blacked out and then some lanterns lit around this lake so the enemy would think it was Fowey harbour (with the water and the lights) and be off target.  Further on up the top of a steep hill is the 1832 landmark, standing 84 feet high and painted red and white it is obvious for miles.  From the daymark to Polkerris was treacherous walking in ankle deep slippery mud thanks to all the recent rain.  We arrived without any incidents unlike many people we passed who had the tell-tale brown mud stains as evidence of a slip and fall.  We took the country roads back across land to return to Fowey a great day out.

A nice short hop of around 20 nautical miles brought us to the holiday haven of Salcombe (thanks for the recomendadtion Roger).

Hills filled with holiday homes lead down to some lovely sandy beaches and a river dotted with yachts on mooring buoys.  Very pretty.

We spent Easter long weekend here and it became very obvious very quick that this was a favourite holiday weekend spot and the locals told us out of season the place is mostly deserted.

We enjoyed the coastal cliff path walks in both directions (back towards Dartmouth and further West).

We also had a night away from the boat in the nearby city of Plymouth.  We caught the bus there and a train then bus back the next day.  This set us up with phone and wifi for the UK without the need to take Red Roo into the busy and expensive harbour (adding extra miles not needed for any other reason).

Although we were on a pontoon (another floating one in the river) we endured a very windy and rainy night.  News reports the next day reported some areas in the regions getting hit by 100mile winds, it sure felt like it to us during the night.  It wasn’t rough but very loud and especially when the wind got into the head sail of racing yacht on a buoy next us, opening it up and flapping and tearing it to shreds.  So loud it sounded like a gun being fired every-time it flapped, and it flapped continuously for a few hours until it shredded enough for the noise to ebate.  There was nothing we could do to save it as it was too dangerous to get in the dingy and attempt to go over and drop his sail.  The owner came out the next day and no hope of a repair a whole new sail will be needed.

Our first English Channel Crossing !!  Very exciting and a little bit of a disappointment when after 12 hours when land should have been in sight all we had was haze and mist meaning we couldn’t see land until 1 mile off….Welcome to England!!

A successful crossing of the English Channel from Guernsey to Dartmouth in 13.5 hours.  Departed the Channel Islands at 01:00 in the dead of the night and took the tides across.  No issues across the shipping channels, plenty of ships and many fishing vessels also in the channel however all went well.

As per the introduction, a tiny seed of doubt did creep in when we should really have been able to see land a lot earlier than we did but that is the English weather for you.  Once land appeared in focus rather than a dark haze it was fantastic to be greeted by old castles on each side of the river Dart.  Dartmouth had a delightfully old character about it, from the buildings to the pace to the people.

We berthed on a floating pontoon in the river so had to launch the dingy to get to shore.  Customs declaration took a lot longer than expected (Phil spent over 4 hours on the phone in the harbour office), but that is really his own fault as the delay was caused by him brining over the allowable limit of alcohol (Gin) into the country duty free from the Channel Islands.   By the time it was sorted he was full bottle on the gossip from the “incident” on the harbour wall where a french fishing vessel had fallen over (see pictures below) after seeking refuge from a storm they tied up along the wall and then fell the boat with a full load literally fell over, loosing their entire catch and one crew member badly breaking their arm.  A sad story as due to health and safety regulations a week later the boat is still half submerged as the red tape is played out (in France we have no doubt they would have had a crane on site within an hour to fix it back upright, meaning minimal damage to the boat, i.e.: all the wiring and fittings would have dried out and been easily salvageable but now over a week later the vessel is still underwater and becoming more of a write off each day).

We met a local sailor Roger and took his tips on the best places to stop as we progressed west.  Not sure we made much of an impression on Rogers wife Heather however (she wasn’t with him on the boat) but after spending an evening and dining with us on Red Roo he went back to his boat and rang her – telling her of our story.  The next day he reported that Heather said we might be a bad influence on Roger and she didn’t want him getting ideas on selling up and setting sailing . . . indefinitely!!  Sorry Roger 🙂 didn’t mean to get you into trouble!!!