Classic_Boat_2016-04

CLASSIC BOAT APRIL 2016 37

ROMILLY

Clockwise from

top left: A blend

of old and new,

wooden tiller,

GRP hull and

carbon-fi bre

mizzen mast;

Nigel at the helm

with the Cornish

coast to port;

with the mainsail

reefed, a

preventer

steadied the rig

on a reach

Below: Nigel has

designed modern

and classic yachts

by how well he kept the boat under control. Whereas I

would have simply eased off the mainsail halyard and

taken up the slack on the reefi ng pennants once the sail

was lowered, Nigel used the tack line to haul down the

sail and keep tension on the luff so that the sail was

under control at all times. He also showed me a trick he

had learned the previous week: lowering the sail beyond

the fi rst reef (using the second tack line) so the reefi ng

points could be easily tied from the cockpit, before

tensioning the pennants fully.

HERITAGE COAST

By now we were doing about six knots over land,

according to the Navionics navigation app on Nigel’s

iphone – a fact we could have checked by timing our

passage between the two pairs of towers that mark the

measured (nautical) mile between Talland and

Hannafore, near Looe. By mid-afternoon, a clutter of

ships and buildings to the north indicated we were

passing Plymouth, while to the south the distinctive

shape of the Eddystone lighthouse – in continuous use

since 1882 – shot out of an almost empty sea. It was a

coast laden with history, and for centuries the workboats

of choice would have been luggers just like ours – albeit

built of very different materials and with very

different weight distribution and righting moments.

Sailing a lugger off the coasts of Cornwall and

Devon, you can’t help but feel part of something

much bigger.

Lunch was a simple affair of bread and cheese,

much improved by Nigel’s inspired purchase of a

jar of caramelised onion chutney earlier that

morning. Perhaps the most successful foodstuff was a

sailing in a fresh southwesterly breeze in glorious
sunshine, while behind us a massive cloud glowered over
the land. Our plan was to arrive at Bolt Head at slack
water, about two hours before High Water, and make the
most of the east-going current beforehand. If we timed it
right, we might even ride a little eddy that sweeps into
Start Bay for nearly two hours after the tide has turned
further out to sea.
It was an interesting dynamic. I was the boat’s owner
but had sailed Ramona only once before and had sailed
only one other Romilly, when I reviewed the prototype
20 years before. Nigel, on the other hand, had not only
designed the boat and sailed several other Roxanes and
Romillys over the years but had also sailed Ramona for
a week before I turned up – not to mention a lifetime’s
experience on all manner of craft. I was a newcomer on
my own boat and had everything to learn.
The issue soon came to the fore when, after about an
hour reaching under a freshening breeze, Nigel suggested
it was time to take reef in. We had already brailed the
mizzen and, although things were getting lively, I would
have certainly held on to full sail for a bit longer. Bowing
to his greater expertise, I agreed and sure enough with
the main reefed the boat steadied down immediately,
without seeming to lose any speed. Nigel still
wasn’t happy, however, and after a few minutes
quietly observing the (boomless) mainsail he
attached a line from the mainsail clew to a cleat
on deck, and hauled it down tight. This
improved the shape of the sail as well as further
steadying the rig, and for the next hour we
surfed along the waves in complete comfort.
As I watched him handle the sails, I was struck