T
he boatyard had been usually busy all summer;
all good intentions of finishing the work on my
lugger, Veracity, and getting away for a few
weeks of summer cruising had long been stowed
on the ‘next year’ list. So when the opportunity arose for
a weeks’ cruising at the very end of September, I grasped it
with both hands, as the last scrap of precious free time
that might be had before a heavy winter work schedule
would take over my life until the new year.
The initial temptation was to run for Ireland. The
Green Isle is somewhere I have not yet sailed, nor my
crewmate, despite longing to visit for a long while. Even
the weather was tempting us with a lovely sou’westerly
which would have offered quick passage for a boat that
loves to be free and by. I perused the almanac and the
cruising guides, picked out several spots I’d love to visit,
then realised that our salty seadog Clipper, sans passport,
may not be welcome. A few brief moments of
contemplating the consequences if caught, of leaving
Clipper alone in quarantine, was enough to put this idea
on the back burner until her passport was aboard too.
Still wanting to get away further than the local Cornish
haunts, we continued to watch the weather and saw a
window to get to the Scilly Isles. It didn’t offer the chance
for a short shakedown first (as the newly installed engine
still only had 1.5hrs on the clock) but it was perfect for a
day sail from Falmouth to Scilly. A sou’westerly blow
was coming in the next day, so we settled on an easy
entrance into New Grimsby Sound where we could sit
out the blustery day and easily get ashore on Tresco and
Bryher for some windswept walking.
The shorter days, and a light breeze on the early part
of the crossing, led to an arrival into New Grimsby in
the dark. Not ideal with the wind building, no moon and
the clouds absorbing every shred of light. We found theoverfalls just off Tresco by falling into them, much to the
alarm of Clipper the dog, who had been enjoying the
champagne sailing to this point, and hoped our
navigation was spot on for the channel between
Shipman’s head and the Kettle’s Bottom. Once in, we
dropped anchor just north east of Hangman’s island and
settled in to cooking dinner, which had by now become
an 11pm supper. The next day dawned wet and windy as
expected and we battened down the hatches, enjoying an
unusual chance for a lazy morning, late breakfast and
the joy of doing very little at all.
Checking the weather later in the day we noted that
the day’s blow had now metamorphosed into several
days, with the wind swinging nor’westerly to boot. As
the anchorage was not particularly comfortable, the sight
of 40 knots on the forecast made us contemplate the
sturdy visitors’ moorings further in, hoping for some lee
from the nor’wester when it came. We weighed anchor
and picked up two moorings, fore and aft, and settled in
fully, expecting a safe but uncomfortable night, which
was exactly what we got.
Part way through the evening of pitching and rolling
on the wind over tide, listening to the mooring buoys
battering our bow, stern and Aries wind vane, we studied
the cruising guide and pored over the forecast, which
was suggesting several days of gales to come. We kept
coming back to the suggestion of Green Bay on Bryher:
logically it looked well protected from the wind and the
swell, and the cruising guide indicated a flat, sandy
bottom. We’d bought Veracity’s beaching legs with us, so
early on the tide the next morning we headed in, nosing
under sail between Merrick and Half Tide shoal, and
tacking up into the bay. Our thoughts were right,
although at high water some short chop was present, but
as the tide dropped away and exposed a myriad of rocks