Storm Bound in Salcombe

The Ireland trip was a difficult one to follow in little Juliet Jay in Poole harbour. However I was building up some experience and my confidence was growing with it.

My grown up nephew invited himself to come for a days sailing with a couple of friends one of which was a very experienced sailor. The day did not get off to a good start. My outboard motor failed and we only just made it to the mooring. It can be tricky trying to row against three knots of tide with two very large men in a small inflatable dinghy! I had by now learnt to aim off to compensate for tidal flow! But I missed Juliet Jay and so needed super effort to reach her.

There was not a lot of wind so sailing was sluggish much of the morning and so became boring for my nephew, who told me he had decided sailing was overrated and that he probably wouldn’t take it up as a past time. That said we had a good lunch off Old Harry rocks, the wind piped up and the outboard behaved better on the return trip. They went home tired and happy. Sadly he has not been since.

It was now a year after my loss and the dolphins had made a profound impression on me and my general moral. Life was beginning to be worth living. I reached 60 so I took my children to Paris for a long weekend by car. Then soon soon after my elder daughter’s wedding needed some of my attention!

After my children, Juno was taking up a lot of my time. Sailing however was a constant pull too. On the whole Juno came with me. She was bored when I went to work. Sculpture was not much fun for a puppy. My studio had some draconian rules for dogs. But getting on and off Juliet Jay was traumatic for her and she would need to be lifted on and off. Old Harry rocks and Poole harbour became our play ground summer and winter. 

However by my second season I was becoming more ambitious. Over the winter of 2010-2011, I decided that South Devon was my target area and Salcombe in particular. I arrived at this after I had done some reconnaissance, visiting Dartmouth, Newton Ferris, Saltash, Kingsbridge, Salcombe, Looe and Fowey. Salcombe in winter is really quite a nice place and Juno and I got to know it well. 

So it was that I set off to sail to Salcombe in June 2011. I asked a good friend Alexander, a neighbour, to come with me taking the good advice of my Guru. Sailing solo with so little experience was tricky. It was a long trip across Lyme Bay as I well knew. I decided to attempt it in two legs stopping in Dartmouth. Alexander was a professional sailor who would deliver yachts around the world for an appropriate fee. He was delighted to come with me just for the trip though. I was itching to set off but the weather remained depressingly unsuitable for ten days or more delaying our departure. When at last we did get off it was a pretty dull until we reached just past Portland when, in the early hours, the wind piped up and we started to sail. The Atlantic rollers were back again but it was a beautiful sail across Lyme Bay and a long mid summer sunrise was just fantastic. Alexander caught the bus back to Dorset from Dartmouth. It was 80 nautical miles and most of a days sail but only a two hour bus trip back! Thank you Alexander it was fun and I learnt a lot.

I wanted to press on to Salcombe as soon as possible. It was my solo trip in unknown waters. It’s sometime ago now but I did do my homework, looking at tides and weather before setting off. I was unprepared for the Skerries. The Guru had mentioned the Skerries and I had looked carefully at the charts and checked all the pilotage advice I could find, but could find little help. Since then I have got to know the area well but that first trip taught me to expect the unexpected. The journey from Dartmouth Castle to Start Point was the first leg. I was unprepared for a following sea. The inflatable tender kept trying to join me in the cockpit. I suppose I got used to it but it was quite alarming at first time. 

Once round Start Point it was plain sailing and I flew past Prawle Point towards the entrance to the Salcombe and Kingsbridge estuary. I had been well briefed about the ‘Bar’ but was surprised at quite how close to the rocks and cliffs one has to sail to miss it! Having been warned that it is better to stay further out to sea as sailors are safer; accidents happen when bumping into land. I got a taste of sailing under the over hanging cliffs of Sharp Tor which are rather aptly named.

The wind tuned up significantly and the resulting sea state kept me trapped for a month. Not a bad place to be trapped for the month (in June), but nevertheless I was stuck there. Salcombe at the height of Summer is a busy place full of affluent young people enjoying themselves at high speed. Indeed the speed that boats move around the area of Whitesand is breathtaking. Driving on land near by on the other hand, is, in contrast, very slow indeed; just so many people in narrow streets. 

I managed to procure a visitors pontoon berth in the “bag” where I stayed for four weeks. The Bag is a little bit away and round the corner from all the bustle but it was for some of the time crowded and I was rafted up. However I did meet some really friendly and hospitable people and we spent many evenings enjoying some amazingly competent cooking and excellent wines. One couple had sailed from Eastbourne where they owned a farm on the South Downs. He was a wise sailor and convinced me to go and buy a spare impeller in case mine ever went wrong. Another couple came from Dartmouth adding to my ever accumulating knowledge of the area and sailing.

I had brought my tennis racket and had a couple of games with a local farmer near Kingsbridge. It was such fun taking the tender to their little landing stage a good mile up the estuary. 

The sailing club was busy too but provided excellent showers and convivial company at the (other type of) bar. 

My brother was entertaining a cousin from California, an American lady in her 80s. She had insisted that she should meet me and so he had driven her all the way from Somerset to have lunch with me aboard Juliet Jay. I met them at Whitesand and we caught the floating taxi to the boat. My California cousin turned out to be extremely partial to Gin and tonic so our lunch went extremely well and it was a long time before my brother was able to extract her.  

In my spare time I went for a number of walks. The area is blessed with some beautiful countryside and it was easy to take the tender to a variety of landing places and take to the hills on foot.

On one occasion I was taken by a friend to dinner. The pub is up Southpool creek and has a great reputation. I was collected by a small inflatable motor boat and taken a great speed (well above the speed limit) to The Millbrook Inn. I rather think it was a bit expensive but the meal was overall good. I was intrigued on entering the pub garden to find I had to share it with a girl on a horse. This is of course Devon and that is what happens in Devon. Our return journey to Juliet Jay was equally exciting if illegal in the dark. The inflatable motor boat seemed to skim the water with little or no draft. Such is Salcombe in June and July ‘a fast place’!

Amazingly I found someone to crew with me back to Poole. A volunteer who wanted some extra sail time in their RYA log book. To be honest they had absolutely no idea how to sail so I was awake for the whole trip yet again. We had a fair wind all the way, clear blue sea and sky. We flew across Lyme Bay and rocketed past Portland. Passing my old stamping ground of Lulworth in beautiful moonlight our sails were filled with a blueish tinge and the crystal sea reflected the mood. Warm but refreshing the air was so clear, our view of the World heritage site was at its most magical. Old Harry’s wife lit up by the rising sun made our homecoming quite magical.