Tides didn’t necessitate an early start today. I grabbed the Nikon and shot off to capture some of the views and atmosphere, the village stores with striped awning and wicker baskets of vegetables, the brightly painted ‘Steam Packet’ pub with bunting criss-crossing the road,  the steam train with ornate wooden buildings and all those quaint stone steps and backstreet alleys. I didn’t know what to click at first and was still shooting madly at castles and the minute chapel as we left the Dart, leaving the skipper to see to his lines and fenders. You just can’t get decent crew these days!

   By contrast today had minimal wind and the morning mist became fog. Humidity was 82% and dew dripped from our Tilley hats as we both kept a very close lookout while sounding the fog horn. In the distance we could hear the horn from the lighthouse on Start Point. It was a good job we were on our toes as several fishing vessels not only didn’t show on the AIS (Automatic Identification System), but were almost unseen on the radar too.

   As our tiny light grey world expanded and became two-tone grey I made chicken, stuffing and rocket sandwiches which we ate under the sprayhood with our eyes still glued to the horizon. With a couple of knots of wind directly on the nose we motor sailed. Oh well, at least it gave the batteries a good charge.

   The afternoon was gloomy, cold, grey and damp only brightened by a celebratory cup of green tea at Eddistone Rock and blackberry pie with steaming hot custard as we approached Falmouth. Our uneventful afternoon then became extremely lively.

   The ships anchored outside the harbour suddenly lost their tops then totally disappeared together with St. Anthony’s Head as thick fog came in at great speed. While blasting the fog horn our eyes were straining for our channel markers and fishing boats which popped through the fog directly in front of us. Thank heavens for the electronic chart plotter: Without it we’d have spent the night at anchor outside the harbour.

   Keeping a careful lookout gave me no time to prepare mooring lines and fenders so our approach to raft off boats in Port Pendennis Marina was rather hairy. Si was able to circle round, then throwing a midships line onto a sturdy steel Dutch boat I leapt across and secured Brindabella. We were safe at last. We tied her securely and only then did I look up and notice the fog had lifted. Great! Poor timing or what? We poured a well earned G&T.

    I had steak, mustard mash and sugarsnaps on the table in half and hour followed by pie and custard. Shattered we fell into bed.                                    ---Lini---