Logs & Articles
Bumble Chugger to the Isles of Scilly
Robin and Gillie Whittle
Sunday, 25 June: This was the start of our next adventure - our trip to the Scilly Isles. Tony Coles was joining us in ‘Shy Talk’, and Herman Legger in ‘Whitecap’ had planned to come with us, but there was no sign of him in the morning, and we later heard that he had decided to go straight home.
The day dawned very misty and we couldn’t even see the other side of the harbour. We had decided to do a dog-leg to Newlyn and sail from there to the Scilly Isles the next day. Tony, who was doing the whole trip in one day, left about 6.30 am, blythely saying that the mist would burn off within half an hour. By 9 o’clock the mists were just beginning to lift as we motored out past Black Rock through glassy water. There was not a lot of wind, but we were able to motor sail round the Manacles. Beyond the Manacles, we could see a great white blanket moving in from the sea and draping up the cliffs of the Lizard.
It was ominous moving into the fog, but it was a gradual acclimatization, and when occasionally visibility was reduced to 20 yards, our GPS map clearly showed us where the rocks were. The fog started lifting some way out into Mount’s Bay, and finally we were clear of it and could just make out Newlyn in the distance. It was a long slog across the bay, but slowly we neared Newlyn. 4 or 5 miles from the shore we at long last had a favourable wind, and were able to turn off the engine and sail. We finally arrived at 3 pm.
We had not seen many birds during the day - the occasional gannet, guillemot, gull, fulmer, shearwater: our chief entertainment was spotting ominous triangular black fins circling us - basking sharks! They must have been huge creatures and we saw over thirty - but fortunately none of them attacked!
The outer harbour at Newlyn looked much the same - remembering it from our south circular trip two years ago: fairly full of big fishing boats. The inner harbour was very different; fishing boats were still moored to the quay on the right and rafted up 5 or 6 deep, but all the rest of the harbour was filled with pontoons and walkways for a smart new marina. It wasn’t quite finished and we were not allowed to use it. There wasn’t a lot of spare room: we had just tied onto a smallish boat, when a little blue and white fishing boat arrived and said he usually tied up there, but we could raft onto him. We moved out and back onto his outside. This didn’t leave much space between us and the pontoons. Some smaller fishing boats came in and squeezed past: one of them suggested we drop back a couple of rows to leave more space, so that we would be less disturbed when they all went out again at 3 am the next day. We untied ourselves and followed his suggestion but decided we’d been in a much better position before, so moved back to the little blue and white boat.
We needed to top up our petrol before our crossing to the Scilly Isles, so after we’d had a cup of tea and cake, we set off with three empty cans. It was quite an obstacle course to get ashore, clambering across four smallish boats and two large fishing boats and up a steep metal ladder. We checked with the security guard that ‘Bumble Chugger’ was all right where we’d left her, and set off on the half mile walk to the Co-op garage. This was a pleasant walk along the sea front. The beach would have been ideal for playing ducks and drakes, as it was covered with curious very flat, circular stones. The noise of a band playing in Penzance wafted across the water. Returning through the town we reminisced about the Seamen’s Mission, where we had had some fantastic showers on our previous visit.
As we were starting the difficult climb back with the full petrol cans, the guard caught us up requesting details of the boat and money. He told us the new marina was due to be opened in the next couple of weeks, and everyone was looking forward to congestion being eased amongst the fishing boats. He said the fishing fleet was really suffering from the very high prices of fuel. A change of diet tonight with chicken in white sauce and rice, and then a long drawn out Scrabble battle which ended in a draw with 230 points each!
Monday, 26 June: The shower and loo had been pointed out to us at the far end of one of the big sheds. After a visit there, we left at 8 am motoring with very little wind under grey skies, again accompanied by basking sharks. We followed down the coast and past the Runnel Stone and then headed out to sea on course for the Scilly Isles, at one point being able to see the Longships Lighthouse behind us and the Wolf Rock in front.
The grey skies lowered over us and became a drizzle; the drizzle became rain, and then it rained and rained, solid sheets of it, for about3 or 4 hours. We got soaked - it even came through our new sailing suits and it was extremely cold. It was a really miserable sail, but gradually the clouds lifted and the rain stopped. It seemed to take forever getting past Wolf Rock, and then at last we could see a very faint outline of land. There was a misty haze over it, and this didn’t improve as we got nearer. We hoped this wasn’t going to persist during our stay.
At last we could make out houses and trees on St Mary’s, and then about 3 pm we were chugging round the amazing rock formations of Peninnis Head and into the calm anchorage of Porth Cressa. There were 7 or 8 other boats moored there, but no Tony. Once we were anchored we tried his mobile, but could not get through. Gillie’s phone had been playing up, but we managed to get a call through to Rob’s brother, Taff, to let him know that we’d arrived safely. Taff told us of a fantastic fish restaurant which was over a fish and chip shop in Hugh Town. He didn’t know the name but said that we needed to book. So we went ashore to wander round the town, and luckily found the Galley Restaurant. On enquiring at the fish and chip shop we were able to book the last table for that evening which was available at 6. It was 5.30 now, so we explored a bit and visited the local church which was looking very decorative with a flower festival on. The food at the Galley Restaurant was expensive but quite excellent.
We returned to ‘Bumble Chugger’ via the Harbour Master’s office along the quay to get the latest weather forecast. A dinghy with two Dutchmen passed us just as we got aboard, and they commented on there being another Shrimper in Porth Cressa the night before. It was white, so it had to be Tony, and he had left the anchorage earlier in the day. It was good to have confirmation that he’d arrived safely. Gillie checked her mobile again and found a message from Tony. He had moved on to St Agnes and was sampling the beer in The Turk’s Head. We rang him back at the pub, but he had left by then.
Tuesday, 27 June: was grey again, but the clouds were high. Our first port of call (after the loos) was to the bread shop for some nice new crusty bread. We had seen a shop along the high street with a big sign over it - ‘Bakery and Cafe’. We thought it would be open early, but by 8.30 it still wasn’t. We went along the quay for a weather forecast, and pottered about a bit, and got back to the shop just before 9 - still not open. We decided to wait until 9 and then get something from the Co-op across the street. Just after 9 the shop opened - “Oh no, no bread - we’re not making bread this year”!
We finally set off for St Agnes about 9.30 am, and sailed round into The Cove just as the sun was beginning to break through. Again half a dozen boats anchored there, but no ‘Shy Talk’. The Cove is between St Agnes and Gugh, with a sandy bar connecting the two islands which covers at high water. We had a lovely walk round Gugh (pronounced Goo) which is more or less uninhabited. All the birds and the flowers growing wild everywhere were beautiful. We had views over a brilliant blue and green sea to the other islands, and we came upon rocky coves colonised by noisy seagulls and oyster catchers, and we saw a seal. We followed winding rocky paths, sometimes through a very low growing dwarf heather and everywhere wild flowers in profusion.
Having crossed the bar to St Agnes, it was quite easy to find The Turk’s Head. No message had been left for us, and we took our drinks and crisps to a table outside overlooking the little harbour, and watched boatloads of people being deposited and disappearing up the road into the island. As soon as the crisps were opened, sparrows descended on the table from everwhere, and were very tame taking bits of crisp from our hands. A seagull sat on the wall and watched hopefully, unaware of the notices telling us not to feed him. ‘Bumble Chugger’ was nearly aground when we got back, and we got very wet getting out in ‘Bum Chug’ with the waves breaking on the shallow sandy beach.
A quick lunch and off out of The Cove, with a short stoppage while Rob cleared weed from the motor, then motor sailing up Smith Sound between the Western Rocks and the west coast of St Agnes. There were spectacular rocks all round us, and it was quite difficult to see where the main channel was. We worked our way past Annet into St Mary’s Road and from there into the channel between Samson and Bryher on the one side and Tresco on the other. It was fairly low water and it was very shallow. We went aground once, and then luckily a ferry boat passed us and we were able to follow its zigzags along the channel until it led us right into Tresco Harbour. And there anchored was a little white Shrimper!
We hailed Tony, and stopped beside him while we caught up on each others news. He had had a reasonable crossing though he’d had to motor most of the way and a lot of it had been in fog. They had had no rain on Scilly on the Monday when we had been soaked. He had been up to the gardens and said they were worth visiting, so we anchored a few yards off and went ashore. Everywhere appeared very organised with neat green signs directing us around the island. It was a 20 minute walk to the gardens. It seemed a long, hot walk, though some of it was through woods containing exotic looking species. All the private gardens were overflowing with bright coloured flowers hanging over their walls, and the sides of the roads were red and pink and yellow. We finally reached the entrance to the gardens, seemingly by a very circuitous route, to find the gardens shut at 4 pm and we’d missed it by 15 minutes. Rob tried an illegal entry, unbolting a gate, but he was spotted and shooed out!
We returned along a path that took us by the sea; a bit shorter and fantastic views over to the other islands.
Back on board, Tony joined us for a gin and tonic. The Harbour Master motored over and asked us to move as we were just in a prohibited area. So we let our boats drift back the required 10 yards, and retired to our respective galleys - ours producing eggs and bacon. Scrabble for afters, which Gillie won for a change.
Wednesday, 28 June: The gardens opened at 10 o’clock, so Gillie was put ashore at 9.30. Rob had decided that he’d had enough walking, so he filled up the water can and did passage plans, while Gillie retraced our steps up to the garden. It was well worth going to - an abundance of colourful flowers and trees with fountains in an amazing rocky terraced setting, wound through by little paths.
The Valhalla Museum was also worth a visit - figure heads and name boards salvaged from wrecks in the area. We all met up at The New Inn at midday. We sat in the garden with our drinks in the sun, surrounded by flowers, and decided that this was the life! We went to get sandwiches for lunch, but on finding they were £10 each, we returned for lunch on board.
At 2 o’clock we up anchored and did a gentle meander northwards, passing Shrimper ‘Lucy’ moored off Bryher, Cromwell’s Castle, and then out through New Grimsby Sound.
Old Grimsby Sound took us southwards again by the islands off the east coast of Tresco. We dropped anchor in Tean Sound between Tean and St Martin’s. Tony was not happy with the holding on the bottom and went off round the corner to a bay off Tean. Later he picked us up in his smart motorised dinghy and putt putted us to the shore. He had investigated The Seven Stones Inn earlier, and his recommendation was spot on. We climbed the hillside by a narrow winding path, and had our meal on a terrace overlooking a superb view of the sea. The food was good, and again the sparrows were soon on the scrounge, also a couple of thrushes, one of whom pecked up bits of fish from my plate.
On our return, we moved ‘Bumble Chugger’ round to Tony’s bay, and we had a very comfy night there. Rob won at Black Jack.
Thursday, 29 June: There was still blue sky but with high clouds, and there was a brisker feel to the SE wind. The cabin had quite a lot of water under the floorboards again, so the first job was to pump out and sponge. Rob is worried that his new fittings for the rudder may be letting the water in. When we take the boat out on Saturday, it may be obvious where the problem is.
A gentle breeze took us across to Watermill Cove on St Mary’s, but it wasn’t too well sheltered, so we moved anti clockwise to another bay. This time the anchoring was poor, with too much weed, and Rob spent some time clearing weed from the prop. So it was on to St Mary’s Pool, and who should just be arriving but the three Crabbers who had left Falmouth on Tuesday - Jean and David Cornhill, Kitty and Mike Eccles and Claud Lanyon with John Benge. (Sheila and their dog came over on the Scillonian, and joined them soon after they arrived.) We all moored up to a pontoon and exchanged notes of our voyages. They had also made it a two day trip, stopping off at Newlyn. They intended to stay 4 or 5 days.
We all went our separate ways - Tony walked some of the way round the beach until he found it too hot. The others visited some gardens, and walked and had cream teas at Juliets. We went down to the beach by the harbour wall with our picnic lunch and sketched - a difficult view of the bay with two large fishing boats in the foreground. A smart yellow Wayfarer was rigging on the beach - looked as if they were setting off on an expedition. We wandered along the beach, and then up to a little lookout tower on a hill. Wonderful views all round and we could trace all our voyaging.
We shopped and returned to the boats where Tony was laid out flat in his cockpit fast asleep, and soon Rob was laid out in our cockpit asleep. Gillie caught up with post cards and diary, and made cups of tea for when they awoke. The Crabbers came back from their expotitions. Jean came and chatted for a while: poor David had got a very bad cold, and she had put him to bed and was waiting for her kettle to boil. As soon as we’d heard the shipping forecast just before six, we headed ashore again with Tony and picked up fish and chips below the Galley Restaurant. There was a public garden nearby and we went and sat on a bench in there, as several other people had done. Two gulls and well over 100 sparrows were eagerly awaiting titbits, and were getting quite a few. We all agreed it was the best fish and chips we’d ever had.
It was still early, but by the time Rob had packed up ‘Bum Chug’ and Gillie had made sandwiches, we just had time for some Black Jack (which Rob most annoyingly won again), and then it was early to bed for our early morning start. It was not at all a peaceful night, as the black plastic pontoon we were tied up against squeaked against the boats.
Friday, 30 June: Up at 5.15 to hear the shipping forecast at 5.20. The weather seemed reasonable for our crossing back, so we had breakfast, emptied the cockpit, undid Tony’s mooring ropes, and ten minutes later at 5.40 we followed Tony out into St Mary’s Sound.
It was grey and cloudy with a light SW wind, and miles and miles of sea stretched ahead of us. The distances were very clear, and we could see Cornwall and the Wolf Rock Lighthouse. We headed for the latter. Hours ticked by; Tony dropped back. We counted the flashes from the Seven Stones lights, and we watched big tankers heading for us, and diverting off in other directions when they got to the end of the shipping lane; a frigate neared at high speed and then seemed to follow an aimless course, south, then east, then west - probably keeping on eye on us! An ominous line of clouds stretched across our route, dark and black edged with rain falling beneath. A front, said Rob, and we were going to get cold and wet. Fortunately he was wrong, and the line of cloud steadily moved ahead, and the sun came out over us.
The wind was up and down but generally light: sometimes we sailed but mostly motor sailed. The miles slowly counted down on the GPS. Every 10 miles there was a cheer - great competition to get the cheer in first, and then it was time for a diversion with a sweet or a snack or lunch or tea. Rob dictated an account of his Round the Island Race, as he felt the details were beginning to blur in his mind and he wanted to write it up some time. We neared the mainland coast, and then slowly, slowly crept eastwards counting off the landmarks - Runnel Stone, St Michael’s Mount, the Lizard (where we made very slow progress with a strong 4 knot current against us: in hindsight Rob thought he would have crept past under the cliffs and maybe saved us half an hour), then the Manacles and then Falmouth came into view at last.
The short distance from Falmouth to Mylor seemed to take an age, but at last at 6.30 we turned into the marina and thankfully tied up. A finger of whiskey and a cup of tea revived us, and soon after 7 Tony arrived and we helped him in and poured him a whiskey. We then had rather an unsettled time. We had rafted onto an old Shrimper just behind two Dutch boats that were packed up and ready to be taken out of the water. Poor Emilie Langkemper was very upset - she had lost an important bunch of keys and was searching along the quay and the pontoons. We had planned to move into their space, but someone from the marina office came over and needed all that area of pontoon cleared, as HMS Pickle, a replica of the ship that reported the death of Nelson, was arriving early the next morning. This was part of the Mylor bicentennial celebrations which were happening on Saturday - there was much activity going on in preparation for these - car parks cleared, scaffolding erected and general disruption everywhere. We moved round to the other side of the pontoon where Tony was moored. But this was short lived, as a Crabber came in and unceremoniously told us to move. We found another couple of Shrimpers to raft up on, and kept our fingers crossed that we would not be moved on again.
Off for a most wonderful shower, and then clean and refreshed we and Tony adjourned to the Sailing Club for a drink, and then on to Castaways for a much enjoyed final meal. The Langkempers, Pieter Koopman and Annette Lolkema were at the next table - Emilie much calmer, as she’d found her keys in their car. Ronald came over to our table and we had an enjoyable chat with him. Suddenly it was after midnight, and it was a very tired trio who finally collapsed into their beds!
Saturday, 1 July: A beautiful day, and already heating up as we made an early start getting the boats out and de-rigging. Rob popped into the little Norman church, and then we were away, leaving Tony to follow when he had finished packing up.
It was another marathon day for Rob, this time driving, yesterday sailing, but he insisted on staying at the wheel. It was very, very hot and the roadworks north of Truro that had held us up on our way in, were just as bad. We had a brief stop at Jamaica Inn for some refreshment and a sandwich. The break was good, but the sandwiches weren’t - it was altogether a rather dismal, over-commercialised place. At our second stop for petrol, Tony passed us and we were behind him for some way. Just before the M25 turn off, we moved up level with him and waved final goodbyes. He still had quite a long journey ahead of him, to Whitstable, but it was not much longer before we turned into Corkran Road, and thankfully let ourselves into The Wopwops.
