To Fowey on ‘Chloe’, July 22 – 24 – report by Ian Collins

On a pleasant summer Friday with surprisingly easy traffic on the M5, Claire Turner, Bob Buchanan, Richard Trim and Stewart Menzies and I met at Yacht Haven Quay, stowed ourselves, our bags, some victuals and some absolutely vital bottles and a few cans aboard Chloe, a 34ft Bavaria. We then motored down Cattewater to the marina to fuel and water Chloe, grab a berth then fuel and relieve our liquid requirements at the Bridge Bar and Restaurant. The following morning sluiced and scrubbed we headed out to the buoys at Drakes Island for breakfast afloat.

Later we sailed away from the buoy and headed for the Eddystone by way of the Bridge. No, not the Bar but the narrow passage that leads out to the breakwater to the West of the Island.

We sailed south till the current changed to westward then set a best to wind course that brought us to Looe Island, then by a series of shorter tacks we reached the harbour mouth at Fowey.

Safely rafted on the visitors pontoon in a murky Cornish welcome we took the water taxi to the fleshpots of Fowey and in the Smugglers the plates of mainly local well cooked flesh were excellent. A drink in the newly refurbished and welcoming Yacht Club and we were ready to return to Chloe confident that we had done enough to add another mealtime toward our Yachties Ashore Certificates.

Next day, although bright enough in the harbour the forecast was not encouraging so we slipped our lines and headed seaward raising the sails as we went. To the southwest a grey oppressive weather front was barrelling toward us. It didn't take it long to catch us up, steal what wind we had. The remainder of the journey was courtesy of Volvo Marine but ever optimistic we left the main up.

We ate once more at Drakes Island and such is the way of all things nautical as we motored in the wind picked up. We ignored it and returned Chloe to her scholarly duties with the Plymouth Sailing School.

If you, as I have, accept that leisure and sometime pleasure sailing in the South West is an acquired taste, oftimes amazing, often wet, it's not for the faint hearted or easily depressed then this was a good weekend with a good crew to share it with. I thank them.