Tag: Cawsand

Anchor angst and the Yealm

We were anchored off the beach at Cawsand. I’ve never been ashore at Cawsand, so the plan was to inflate the dinghy and explore the twin villages of Kingsand and Cawsand. Niki said “are you sure it’s safe for us to all go ashore?” Prophetic words. “It’ll be ok”, I judged.

“Anchored” in Cawsand Bay

There was a gentle onshore breeze and the three of us landed easily in the tender. The villages, separated by only a few yards, but which historically had been at loggerheads for many years, were indeed lovely, especially with the decorations up for the queen’s Platinum Jubilee.

Narrow streets with jubilee decorations in Kingsand

At several points we could see Molly from afar and observed that she was still in position. As we walked along the shore, Niki said “I’m sure she’s moved”. We quickened our pace. By the time we had regained the dinghy, it was clear that the wind had increased to about F4 and Molly was dragging.

Is she dragging ?

The waves on the shore were not so easy to negotiate as our arrival and it was a much more strenuous row. We agreed that as soon as we reached Molly, I would go to the bow and Ben would start the engine, whilst niki remained in the dinghy. There were a scant few metres between Molly and the shore when the engine was engaged, but the anchor was soon recovered and the only casualty was poor Niki, who not only had a good soaking in the dinghy but cut her hand into the bargain.

Niki retired below to warm up under a blanket , whilst Ben and I motored across Plymouth Sound. It was slow going, dead into the wind and we also had to contend with crossing the track of a magnificent fleet of flying offshore racers heading for Galway and thence Shetland.

Eventually we reached our planned lunch stop and dropped the plough anchor for the last time in Cellar Bay at the mouth of the Yealm. By this time I had very much decided that my plan to eventually replace it should be brought forward to a status of immediate.

Lunch in Cellar Bay at the mouth of the Yealm

We enjoyed a pleasant lunch and siesta before hosting Dermot, our friend and fellow Crabber 26 owner, who lives nearby and sailed out to see us in his Drascombe Dabber. Sadly rain prompted him to return home but we elected to motor up the Yealm despite the steady rain. It’s a most beautiful spot, even in the downpour. We motored up to Noss Mayo, though we didn’t stop for a pint!

Our return to plymouth sound was another motor session, after we had motored into a strong wind all the way to the Yealm, there was no breeze at all for our return. After that plod, we were happy to arrive at Sutton Marina. We enjoyed a meal of Morroccan Lamb with butternut squash, which Niki had prepared earlier and cooked in our Thermal Cooker.

Plymouth ho!

The first day of our journey East dawned bright and sunny. I moved Molly off her mooring in Mylor for the last time; the majority of our gear was stored in Russell’s van overnight, so the first order of the day was to fetch and stow the provisions. Meanwhile, Ben and Niki procured pasties in Falmouth and I picked them up from Custom House Quay.

Molly and Lucy at Mylor

The forecast was for very light and variable winds, but in general from the north. This turned out to be only partly true. I was expecting most of the passage to be motoring, but as we set off there was a light wind from the NE so we sailed out into Falmouth bay, accompanied by Russell in his Cornish Yawl, Lucy. With sufficient offing, tacked to follow the shore a mile of so off. As we watched this Cornish coast slip past, we were very happy to see the wind gradually veer to a SE, allowing us to adjust our course to make it past our first significant headland, The Dodman.

The wind dropped somewhat and so, not long before the Dodman, we fired up the engine and motored across a flat blue sea with our sails little more than decoration. After about three hours of motoring, the wind had filled to the point we were able to silence the motor and enjoy a blissful sail in the sun right up to Plymouth sound.

I have not been confident in the holding of our 12kg plough anchor, standard equipment on the Crabber, so we laid the anchor with some care in Cawsand bay. When we motored astern to dig the anchor in, there was little resistance from our ground tackle. Perhaps the anchor had landed upside down; we tried again and convinced ourselves that the anchor had dug in. The winds were light and we had lots of scope out.

We shared a lovely meal aboard, which Niki had brought pre-prepared and frozen, helping to chill the coolbox, and retired to bed early. However, the peace was shattered at about midnight by the anchor alarm. Ben and I considered our position: it was pitch dark, though we knew there were some moorings nearby, past other anchored boats. The wind had shifted to offshore and was not strong. We had not moved relative to our anchorage companions and also it was low water, so there was maximum scope.

In the end, our decision was to increase the radius of the anchor alarm and go back to bed. If we were dragging, then the alarm would wake us and we would be moving offshore. This proved to work out for us and the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

Lucy in fine trim