#rame head

Olympus Trip 35. First roll. 

5 August 2014 22 miles Monday night saw torrential rain, and even in the shelter of Mixtow a fresh breeze rocked Orion. In the dark we both resigned ourselves to not being able to make the passage the next day. But surprisingly Tuesday dawned blue and calm, and the forecast was good, so we made the boat ready and motored out of Fowey harbour for the last time.

Once out of the shelter of Fowey the waves were rough - due to the overnight rain. The shipping forecast labels them moderate, but that is in terms of a large container ship - I found them quite lumpy enough for going down below to seem a deeply unattractive prospect.

We headed east along the coast, in company with several other yachts, also suffering in the lumpy seas. Soon the wind built, so we were able to sail rather than motor, which made the movement more pleasant. I was glad I had pre packed our breakfast picnic. When we had made the journey in the reverse direction, the weather had been grey and gloomy, and the coast anonymous and misty. But this time the sky was mostly blue, so we were able to identify the landmarks. We soon passed Lantic Bay, in slightly wilder mood than our hot picnic stop a couple of days before.

As we sailed passed Polperro, and then Looe Island, the seas gradually abated and became more comfortable.

The sky cleared up and then we could see Rame Head, the headland at the entrance to Plymouth, just ahead.

As we approached the Plymouth breakwater, it was exactly high water, and the waves were breaking around the lighthouse at the western edge.

Once inside Plymouth Sound, the waves disappeared, and we made our way to Mount Batten pier, passing a lovely traditional boat on the way.

We arrived at the Plymouth Yacht Haven, where we had stayed before, and, as rain was expected later, set out for a walk along the coast path to Jennicliff, an open hillside park with a small cafe perched high on the cliffs over the Sound. The coast path was more like a staircase as we continued towards Bovisand, with well constructed steps and railings winding through the Devon rainforest, with glimpses of rocks and water far below. At one point the path was entirely blocked by a damp, lichen covered tree that had slipped down the cliff. Rather than retrace our steps, we climbed over and through it. The weather had turned murky, hot and muggy, so the woodland was unpleasantly humid and stuffy. Eventually we emerged on the top of the woodland, with dramatic views down onto the Plymouth breakwater and what remains of Fort Bovisand. This has been an important defensive site for centuries: there are extensive fortifications on the hill-top at Bovisand, plus a large target butt that can be seen from the sea. Even now it is mostly MOD-run so was populated with sinister radio masts and signs warning people that unidentified debris might explode.

12-13 July 2014 25 miles The weather had posed a dilemma the night before when planning our passage from Plymouth to Fowey. The main direction was West, and we were heartily sick of long beats. Saturday looked grey and rainy with lightish south-westerlies; Sunday sunnier with stronger winds but more likely to go westerly. We postponed a decision to Saturday morning, and at 0700 looked again at the forecast and decided to set off, in spite of the approaching front due to meet us at Fowey at 1400. We had to change the jib again to the larger version, pack a quick breakfast and lunch, and then motored out under grey skies at just after 0900.

There was just one warship moored out at the breakwater, a slightly different shade of grey from the sea and the sky. Another one chased us up the channel as we headed towards Cawsand bay, a popular anchorage.

The sea ahead looked flat and monochrome as we motored out to Rame Head, the western sentinel of Plymouth Sound. The wind was light, but as we rounded the corner and headed west, we pulled out the jib and started sailing.

Gradually the wind filled in and we crept silently west in the grey murk, under lowering clouds. Visibility was poor and I could hardly see the coastline to the North. I started instead watching the seabirds swooping low over the steely grey sea. Checking the bird book I think they were manx shearwaters, far more graceful than gulls. They seemed to like the boat, and flew along with us in a large flock for half an hour.

We sailed in company with several other yachts, all grinding west like us. The low cloud lifted slightly and I could make out the rounded hump of Looe Island. Soon after we spotted Polperro tucked in a tiny gap in the cliffs.

Finally we approached Fowey harbour, and it started to drizzle. It's a deep water harbour so no major hazards, and we crept in about 1400 and soon found a mooring buoy opposite the town, pastel houses stacked up the cliff. It wasn't at its best in the murk, but we were entertained by a light winds race for the local traditional boats, the Troys, originally from the Edwardian era.

The rain intensified, so we thought it best to retreat below and do some passage planning for Falmouth. Later that afternoon we took a water taxi to town, and wandered round grey streets and south to the romantic ruins of St Catherine's Castle. Eating on board, again in the drizzle, the boat started rolling almost uncontrollably, as a nasty swell came into the harbour from the south west. I felt slightly nauseous below and the cockpit was damp and drizzly, so the only answer was an early night. The next morning at 0600 the rolling got much worse, so I persuaded Adrian to take the boat upriver, where after some searching we found a far more sheltered visitors pontoon at Mixtow. It had a great view of the china clay depot, but importantly was linked to the shore, with a small cafe and showers, so far more civilised than a mooring. We celebrated the move with a cooked breakfast.

The sky cleared and the sun came out, and we planned a long coast walk out to Gribbin Head. From Mixtow we could walk to the Bodinnick car ferry.

The path led through Fowey town - now that the sun had come out it all looked far more enticing.

Past St Catherine's castle the path climbed high on the cliff and the views back to Fowey were stunning. A parade of yachts were sailing south west to Falmouth.

The path wound down to pretty sheltered beaches and then up the long haul to Gribbin Head, topped by the vast red and white striped daymark. The National Trust were opening it to visitors today, and at 1100 exactly the volunteers turned up and gave us a safety briefing. Inside the staircase was very dark and slightly claustrophobic, but at the top the views in all directions were amazing. To the East we could see all the way to Rame Head and even Bolt Head.

In the other direction we could see Bodmin moor, St Austell and a strange conical mountain - the volcano-like china clay tip.

Safely down the tower, we followed the switchback coast path along vertiginous cliffs and fields of wheat and barley, ending up on Polkerris beach for a well-deserved pasty on the grey sands.