Scilly to Falmouth (11 Dec 2023)

August 12, 2024

After a week swimming and picking flowers on St Agnes, we left for St Mary in preparation for a forecasted blow that came in a few days later from the West.

We didn’t get far though, as Wendy may stopped suddenly amounts a cluster of very expensive yachts after expeperiencing slight engine issues, soon resolved, however, with a cable tie.

In Porthcressa we met Max, the previous owner of Wendy may who provided both a more suitable solution to Otters broken gear cable, and a much appreciated veggie curry.

In the following days we did our laundry, had a hot shower and carried bottles of fresh water across the island. We topped up on fuel and watched as the weather started to blow in. It didn’t amount to much, however, and the biggest event was moving Wendy May from alongside Falanda.

We then moved to Tresco, over the expanses of oddly placed sand banks and rock formations. It seemed much less terrifying than it had 3 years ago, perhaps with the security of a chart plotter.

I anchored in Old Grimsby sound, the beach stretching seemingly too close as the tide went out. Otter picked up a mooring a few meters ahead, before we rowed ashore, somehow getting lost on the way to the pub.

We met up with some friends from home who blew our minds with the sonar setting on navionics, and updated me on the latest River Exe gossip. The next day they treated us with an incredible shower and food that didn’t resemble pasta before we returned to the boats for a very interrupted nights sleep.

With a fair bit of wind pushing the boat in one direction, and 3.5 kts of tide pulling her in another, Falanda sheered around in all directions, shuddering as the chain snatched around in the anchor roller. I was worried, perhaps errationally that the chain would bounce out and cut a whole in the bow as I slept. I was also worried that the chain may wrap around the keel as we swang and then pull out a plank as it went tight again.

Luckily none of this had happened when the alarm went off at 6 the following morning, so, eager to leave I tried to to pull up the anchor. It would have been hard enough with the just the tide, if the anchor had not decided to embed itself into the masses of weed that lined the bottom.

Once the anchor was finally unstuck, there was a even greater struggle trying to haul it up as we got swept towards the beach. I cut off the weed that was somehow triple the size of the anchor itself and headed back across the bank into the channel.

Otter let go his mooring and followed, hoisting the main and getting Wendy May sailing. As we left the Islands the sun came up and we had a rather disappointing sail as the wind we needed slowly dwindled to nothing.

At points Falanda got properly sailing, but we waited for Wendy May who looked amazing in the morning light. By the time we reached lands end the wind had died to nothing so we abandoned the idea of Falmouth and changed course for Newlyn. Otter put up his topsail and I made some pasta, Wendy May looked very smart.

At sunset I dropped anchor again under sail, and since it was still too rolly to raft up Otter anchored closeby. We rowed ashore and admired the boats, they looked lovely together.

The wind had returned by the next morning, so we left early and had a cracking sail to the lizard, where the swell increased and the wind dropped off, leaving us flopping about. We drifted past the bell bouy as fog started to roll in, leaving us shortly as we approached the Helford.

We started up the engines at St Antony’s head and motored into Falmouth as it got dark. We stayed anchored in the Haven for around a month while I got settled into my new boat building course and Otter started Uni. We had a few evening sails, and spent a weekend with a friend anchored at a cove on the enterance to the Helford which was almost idyllic.

Then the weather started to come in again so I took Falanda up the river to her winter berth in penryn, she settled into the mud there shortly and hasn’t really moved since. We had one last sail on Wendy May as we raced a tamarisk 29 up to Penryn, settling her into her mooring on Muddy Beach.

I am now living aboard Falanda, doing a college course for the next couple of months whilst I try and figure out how to balance living on a cold 26’ wooden boat with clean, respectable waitressing. Falanda is dressed in her tent, and looks lovely as ever.