BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO DRYING ANCHORAGES

Pete Goss was enchanted by the Isles of Scilly, but deliberately going aground still feels unnatural, so he's outlined how he does it...

- PETE GOSS

With life pulled in too many directions we've come to the conclusion that any window of opportunity must be buttered up with optimism and grabbed with both hands.

It was with this in mind that we slipped our mooring and motored down the Tamar River on a late morning, already hazy in the heat. With plenty of vacant moorings I counted ten cormorants hanging out their wings in a vain attempt at drying out in the humidity. Despite this salient reminder that nature often trumps optimism, we hoped for better luck!

We went with our gut after a pit stop in Mayflower Marina for fuel and water, and decided to follow the sun on its daily decent to the west. Clearing Rame Head we disappeared into the clammy bosom of our first fog bank. With no radar, we fell back onto good old watch-keeping and AIS transposed across our cockpit plotter. 'Do we stop or carry on?' became a constant echo. Every time we felt close to bailing the fog would lift just enough to entice us further. All in all it wasn’t too bad and our persistence felt vindicated as we motored up the Helford River and burst into a tranquil anchorage set within a vibrant sunset. Owls hooted in response to our heartfelt toast to life.

Setting the alarm for an early tide tickled a frison of excitement. On closing the Lizard, committed by an accelerating current, the first un-forecast fog bank rolled in. I could see from AIS that there was little shipping about and so we pushed on to find visibility improving as we made rapid ground to the west.

SWERVING THE HAZRDS

I'm not sure if it's me but I sense that some fishermen have a game much like 'Whack-a-Mole' called 'Frighten the Yachty'. The rule is very simple - keep changing direction to maintain a collision course. No doubt it's fun on a boring bridge but when on the receiving end can become tiresome.