Plymouth to Falmouth

We were expecting to play chicken with a herd of war-ships when we left Plymouth this morning. But none showed up to play. We raised the main sail in record time just off Penlee Point, just as three boats full of Royal Marines buzzed us at 20 knots, on exercises. Rather an alarming sight.



For the first part of our journey to Falmouth, we had to motor in little wind. But later, the magic northerly wind arrived and we had hours of real sailing on a close reach in winds between 12 and 20 knots. One classic yacht followed us all the way. 

It wasn't sunny, (grey and dull) and it wasn't dry (often wet through with spray and rain) but it was truly exhilarating and Sirena IV felt like she had been let off the leash, surging ahead through the grey waves.

After eight hours or so, we neared Falmouth, with its prominent white lighthouse and amazing fleet of moored boats in the harbour, including scruffy tiddlers and a row of billionaires' super-yachts with three masts. 


We took a slow and careful look around the 
Town Quay but there was no space for us in that honeypot. Regretfully we turned away and went up the river Fal to the Marina, which is a long walk from town and a lot less bustling and exciting. However, there's no time to go into town anyway, what with cooking a hearty beef stew, passage planning for tomorrow and - blogging.