Onward bound

Thursday 30 March

Both crew and Bertha set off on the 5km-walk to Sainsbury’s to stock up in case there’s no shopping to be found in the Islands, and replenish the dwindling supply of their favourite red wine while it’s on offer. It’s a pleasant stroll along the estuary, and a slow pull back when Bertha’s fully loaded.

Mate cleaned the heads while water was plentiful, due to Skipper washing down my decks and then filling the tanks just faster than she was emptying them, and then went off for a last land shower before slipping the lines and heading across the bay to the Helford river. It was showery, with a cold wind and a lumpy sea; just as well it was only a few miles, and the crew were grateful for the shelter of my smart new porch.

Looming out of poor visibility in the mouth of the river was a huge superyacht, My Amadea, far too posh to want to say hello to li’l ol’ me, so we pottered on past into calm water and pretty views, all the way up to the famous Frenchman’s Creek for a look, before we went back to Helford Pool to pick up a convenient visitor’s mooring. By this time it was nearly dark, and the crew struggled to secure the chain around one of my bow cleats, over a pair of fenders to avoid it scraping my hull all night. As it was, the pick-up buoy bumped into me repeatedly instead, but otherwise no wind ensured a peaceful sleep.