Time to set sail west if we are to reach the furthest point on the British Isles, as we steamed out of Fowey Sue took one last glance at Dawns seaside home, “we’ll be back” she said such a beautiful harbour.
The passage West toward our next port of call, Falmouth, was a gentle affair with just 5-7 knots behind the port beam. So Mr Blue Sky flew the kite to make the most of every breath, Hendrix too lazy stayed under white cloth alone.
On rounding St Anthony Head Falmouth and the huge natural harbour revealed itself, a welcome sight to many a weary sailor arriving from an Atlantic passage. For us it was just a 20 mile drift.
Sue soon forgot about Fowey, as we entered the Falmouth Yacht Haven, as her childhood memories came flooding back with the holiday home she stayed at as a child stared out to sea at her, such great times.
After rafting up once more, we strolled off into the town to shop for provisions ready for The Isles of Scilly. Although we think we’ll detour to Newlyn en route, as the forecast is for squally showers, and don’t fancy a 12 hr passage in that.
Mackerel sky and mares tales over Falmouth, could spell trouble according to the old sea dogs.