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Kokiri on the Social Channel

Peter Ingram

Awarded the Claymore CupAfter two summers to south Brittany, last year we tested a new cruising ground for us: the south coasts of Devon and Cornwall, filling in the un-visited gaps between the Helford River and back to our home berth on the Hamble.

Although we’d thoroughly enjoyed that, this year we required more variety. But we had to compromise again, with only a two-week window, and with a plan baked

at the Swallows & Amazons meet last August to rendezvous with the RCC in north Brittany. It had been some years since we’d done the north Brittany coast, and we’d never touched the bight between Île-de-Bréhat and Saint-Malo, so Dan Darwell’s plan to meet in Lézardrieux was fine, but lacked the full variety we were seeking. When Katharine’s sister, Mary Max (RCC), mentioned taking Sai See south from Milford Haven for two weeks at a similar time,

KokiriPacific 38

Hamble

Swanage

Salcombe

Dartmouth

Scilly Is

R RanceSt-Cast

St-Quay-Portrieux

Guernsey

Ile-de-Bréhat

See Inset Helford R

St-Malo

English Channel

Bryher TrescoSt Martin’s

Samson

St MarysHugh Town

Watermill Cove

St Helen’s Pool

St Martin’s Bay

GughAnnet

St Agnes

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the option to add the Isles of Scilly into the programme really seemed to work.We fondly think of Kokiri as being part of the family, as does Mary with Sai

See. Which would therefore pair those two yachts as cousins. They’d never had the chance to meet; Sai See has resided in Scottish waters for longer than I can remember now, but Christopher Thornhill’s decision to bring her to south Wales, along with the imminent plans to put both yachts onto the market for various reasons, meant this might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Moreover, we love the Scilly Isles.

I found opportunity to take Kokiri west to Dartmouth the weekend before the holiday, with a non-sailing friend as crew and an absolutely vile forecast. A hearty supper at the Jolly Sailor on the Hamble on Friday 19 July set us up to leave after dark and, with a bit of help from the engine, we were in position off Gurnard at midnight as the peak spring tide turned to the west, with the wind SSW5 and heavy rain. We passed close under the loom of the lights on Bournemouth promenade in thick mist and drizzle. Anchoring under sail in the early dawn off the beach at Swanage, the sky was clearing and the log records a ‘Lovely sail.’ I had a good sleep after a stiff dram.

The weather bright and sunny when we caught the tide at 1300 the following day, keeping offshore over St. Alban’s Ledge and close inshore round Portland Bill, as we beat westward with double-reefed main and full jib. By Sunday afternoon we were on the train home, shattered but satisfied.

Arriving back with the family the following Friday, we shopped in town on Saturday morning. Dartmouth proved ideal for stocking up, with the butcher especially outstanding and the grocer, Co-Op and fuel barge all fulfilling our needs in short order. Katharine’s frustration at the lack of recycling bins on the mid-river rubbish pontoon cannot go unnoticed though.

We carried the spinnaker to Start Point that evening and put in a reef for the beat to Starehole Bay under Bolt Head, anchoring under sail in one of our favourite

Robert in the rain

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anchorages. We beat to the Helford in W3 the following day, anchoring at dusk in beautiful, peaceful calm up the river at Frenchman’s Creek, seeking shelter from the easterly blow we knew was coming. The forecast showed a hefty low passing north of us and so, with oilies on, we set off on Monday morning with the barograph falling fast. Tacking round the Manacles in E5, we bore off as the wind freshened further to ESE6 and poled-out the jib to port off the Lizard as the rain pelted down, double-reefed and roaring along. I sheltered down below on occasion, keeping watch on the radar, as Robert, now 14, proved his worth with an exhilarating four-hour stint on the helm and a huge grin, running at 7-8 knots and occasionally surfing into double digits. At one point, with short warning from the radar, a SeaKing helicopter appeared out of the soupy gloom and hovered. After a reassuring wave they disappeared off fast, leaving us wondering who needed their assistance.

We barrelled along as the weather cleared, passing north of Wolf Rock in bright sunshine. The seas off Land’s End always surprise me with their piling irregular discomfort, even on calm days. Today they were in full swing, very confused and peaking dramatically, as we approached the Scilly Isles amongst violent squalls.

Sai See was there ahead of us and we kept in touch on VHF as we approached, pondering the plan. We expected the wind would back NW and increase overnight as the low pushed up the Bristol Channel, but the 1200 Inshore Waters forecast had thrown doubt by suggesting the wind would veer SW. However, all the forecast models on the Windy.com app showed the low tracking to our north and so we agreed to anchor in the lee south of Tresco. We were relieved to find shelter and calm water as we sailed into Crow Sound and crossed the bar, having had a trifling doubt that we’d find breaking surf across the whole area in such an easterly blow.

We dropped anchor in weedy sand close inshore off the slipway at Carn Near, NNW of St. Mary’s Pool, expecting about 0.5m under the keel at LW. We lay two anchors in tandem; the 30lb plough kedge on a sturdy 5m rope off the crown of the main 35lb CQR. We’ve used this arrangement regularly and have good faith

Scilly cousins

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in it although, as always with the CQR in hard sand, it’s important to give the anchor plenty of time to nestle into the surface gently, before setting it hard with the engine. After lying to this during a solid NW9 overnight, I dived on the anchors the following morning and found both deeply embedded and with the line between bar-taut.

Sai See was anchored close ahead and we set off ashore with bright sunshine to explore Tresco. It was great to have the four young cousins on a sailing holiday all together, walking right around this beautiful island and marvelling at the breakers smashing their way into the off-lying rocks while it still blew a solid gale. After supper, Robert and I rowed back ashore in an attempt to photograph the Milky Way in the stunning clear moonless night, although without success.

With two beautiful yachts in company, bright blue sky and the wind now W4, I planned a photo shoot the following morning. We anchored Katharine and Robert in the inflatable on the amusingly named Crow Bar, and Sai See and Kokiri proceeded to reach to-and-fro for the cameras. We have often done this in Kokiri, but it was great to have the two boats sailing in close quarters, thundering past the dinghy in the shallow turquoise waters. We sailed via the Eastern Isles and across flats south of St. Martin, anchoring in the narrow channel south of Teän for the night. The holding was poor initially, with the anchor dragging through cobbles, but as a rain squall hammered down Robert manned the foredeck and we re-anchored successfully, close ahead of the shallow sand flats. It dawned sunny and we had a great day on the beach anchored inside Great Merrick Ledge, on the north side of St. Martins, and followed up with a wonderful barbeque on the rocks at Scilly Point. As usual with our barbeques ashore, a long stretch of beachcombing yielded a few paltry pieces of driftwood and then three pallets were discovered in quick succession. It was a beautiful, inky night with bright stars and a roaring fire, the two families very merry and well fed; just what a summer holiday should offer.

With the winds now light and the weather fine, we stopped at St. Helen’s Pool,

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moved to Hugh Town to top-up with food, fuel, water and gas on the quay - very efficient, but you need some 50p pieces for the water tap - and anchored for the night in 2.1m abeam of Yellow Rock, north of Samson, where we had another enjoyable walk ashore and played on the beach.

On the following day we waved goodbye to Sai See and motored across to Watermill Cove on St. Mary’s for the night, ready for an early start for France on Sunday 4 August.

We don’t often make early starts (it’s a holiday after all) but I was up early to weigh anchor and motor out of Crow Sound in calm sunshine. Setting sail a little while later as a touch of breeze picked up from the south-west, I could see wind building ahead with some tall black-sailed rigs canted-over on the horizon. As they hove swiftly into view, I made a guess that quickly proved correct; these were the forerunners of the Fastnet Race, and as the breeze picked up I had a ringside moment as the three front-runner mono-hulls charged past at close range. Fortunately, the fleet was already so dispersed they didn’t cause any bother; in fact, these three were already round the Fastnet and finished in Plymouth before the slower end of the fleet were heading past Plymouth outbound.

At 0840 there was still no sign of the crew and I set the flanker single-handed. We rollicked along in bright sun and SW4-5, with the boat speed 6-8kts and the self-steering going well, which continued for the rest of the passage. We approached the rocky shores off Bréhat as dawn broke and dropped anchor under sail in the strong tidal passage off Porte de la Corderie, thrilled to be back in this beautiful corner of France. Robert and I set off ashore for croissants and baguettes.

We had good night in Bréhat, moving down to the roadstead on the south shore and anchoring in the deep water close off the mouth of La Chambre. We dropped hook temporarily in the south end of the Passage Le Kerport, west of Bréhat, off the old lifeboat slipway, but couldn’t get close enough inshore to keep out of the tide on account of a couple of yachts already anchored there: still one to try for next time.

It had been ten years since we’d last been to Bréhat. Then, we’d watched Charlotte, just under one-year-old at the time, wolfing down mussels, almost by inhalation. She’s lost none of her appetite for seafood in the meantime. It would be fair to

Kokiri and Sai See posing for photos (also previous page)

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say she enthused about the size and complexity of the gastronomic seafood meal she was determined to have. The Fruits de Mer Royale at the newly-opened La Catamaran at the marina in Saint-Quay-Portrieux hit the spot superbly. A lovely new restaurant with the upper floor still under construction, it is run under the auspices of the fishermen’s wholesaler that was hauling the catch straight off the fishing boats a few yards away. We shared the towering pile of lobster, crab and shellfish between us, while Katharine had John Dory and Robert mussels. It’s always good to get a most memorable meal under one’s belt at some point in a cruise, and a joy that the children look forward to this as much as we do.

The calm close-reach down had been interspersed with looking for a good bay to anchor, an ocean sunfish close-to, and a lunchtime snorkel anchored in a tiny bay just inside La Mauve rock. But the night in the smart all-tide Marina L’Amor was a necessary convenience, as the roadstead off Saint-Quay-Portrieux looked far from comfortable. It was interesting to receive a warning from the marina boatman, about avoiding weever fish in the sandy shallows on the beaches at low tide.

We had a calm sail the following day however, carrying the spinnaker briefly in inconsistent winds from astern. Some motoring allowed time to clean the decks most thoroughly as we approached Cap Fréhel, ready for meeting the RCC. We’d sadly missed the RCC meet when it moved from Lézardrieux, but we caught up with the Darwalls on Walkabout under the dramatic Fort La Latte. A huge gathering was underway at the fort, which looked intriguing, and we anchored in the bight in the west of the bay, somewhat uncertainly given Dan’s information from his electronic charts about the minefields there… But time wasn’t conducive for heading ashore to explore unfortunately, so we weighed anchor and sailed slowly in company, round the corner to anchor clear of the moorings south of Pte. de la Garde, south of Saint-Cast. A lazy morning for us followed, but Sophia merrily rowed Charlotte ashore to the beach for some exercise: a great feat working a near half-mile to windward in the brisk southerly which had picked up overnight.

We parted company in the afternoon and had a great sail into St. Malo, short-tacking through the southern Channel du Décolée as the tide ebbed. A brilliant sail, we beat right up the harbour in stiff conditions and picked up one of the buoys off the Rance tidal barrage under sail. Having not

Charlotte on the Rance

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been into St. Malo since childhood, we were extremely excited both by the fantastic cityscape and the tidal barrage. We spent a delightful night on a spare buoy inside Ile Cheyret, 1.5nm above the barrage, finding nothing that could qualify as an anchorage in that area, despite the pilot’s suggestions.

The wind was building fast as a deep low-pressure system pushed up the Channel. As the southerly overnight backed we headed for the barrage lock again and locked into St. Malo’s Vauban Basin in a solid blow. We tied alongside the quay

wall at the top corner of the harbour, well protected from the winds by the high city walls. We had a lovely day exploring the city, watching yet again as north-westerly breakers smashed their way into a rocky shoreline, conditions like those we’d seen a week earlier in the Scillies. It really is a lovely city, with a fantastic cheap meal ashore and a good night’s sleep, ready to set off the following morning for Guernsey on the back of the weather system.

It was still blowing WSW5 when we left, having to motor-sail out of the channel amongst the huge

breaking surf rolling over the surrounding reefs. Despite being double-reefed, we averaged nearly 9kts through the choppy seas and leaden skies, with Katharine thoroughly enjoying the passage, but the rest of us feeling rather ill. I have now developed a suitable emoji for the log to signify when the conditions push one of the crew, or me, to the leeward rail.

As we reached up into the Little Russel, having been freed progressively all day, it was a lovely relief to be free from the swell, and we short tacked into St. Peter Port well after dark. Mike Skidmore and friend Catrina arrived the following afternoon, waving from the shore around lunchtime. Mike had sailed Kokiri for two weekends last summer in the Solent, when we ventured her for a group of cadets to practice and undertake their Yachtmaster exam. When we met at the pub after they’d passed, we’d volunteered Kokiri for a cruise and were most pleased when Mike called earlier in the spring to take up the offer. So we flew home from Guernsey to Southampton and left Mike with Kokiri to bring her home.

Every cruise has variety: some windless Mediterranean cruises are only broken up by a blockage in the heads, or trade wind Caribbean cruises made memorable by a small infringement of customs routine, but I felt that this summer we had a cruise that varied every day. Each day ticked the host of boxes the young family would hope for. And each day made the most of what the English Channel and the weather had to offer. Arriving home on Sunday evening, the heart felt happier for a great cruising holiday.

Skipper and author in St Malo