The ups and downs of Clovelly

The tide had other ideas

Following our early night after arriving and anchoring in Clovelly, we had a proper good nights sleep, and I was up early at 6.30am (standard). Did the usual morning weather forecast checks to see if we needed to get a wiggle on and get out of here, or if we could maybe even venture over to Lundy Island. My Mum and Dad were also on their way down to Cornwall for a long weekend that day, so they might swing by for a cuppa. So as standard, the morning started with 3 possible options for how the day could go, and a mug of coffee was needed to weigh up the options while Rich snores away below deck.

Later that morning, Rich finally wakes up as I’m cleaning my teeth in the heads. Looking out the porthole, I spy a waterfall on the beach through the fog. Mouth full of toothbrush and toothpaste, I garbled "babe, look, a waterfall!". At that very exact moment, Rich’s phone buzzed with a text from his mum to say there was a waterfall on the beach there. Honestly, you can’t make up the timing of this, and Rich just stood there laughing at me.

With Rich now also filled with caffeine and fully awake (this process takes a good 45 minutes from eyes open to an actual conversation), I presented our options for the day. After the big sail yesterday, we’re keen to explore Clovelly, so lunch with my mum and dad it is.

I headed out into the misty rain to get the dinghy ready, I’m now a speedy pro at bailing out water from the dinghy with a sponge, and put the dinghy rings back as they should be - the swell from last night wasn’t kind to them apparently.

After 4 days of rain in Fowey, and now stuck in thick fog in Clovelly, I can officially confirm I would much rather the big fat rain than the misty spray kind.

Rich now fully dressed, we jump in the dinghy and head to the beach. I wanted to leave Little Monkey in the harbour, but Rich wasn’t sure about it, so the beach was our chosen landing point.

Now for those of you that haven’t seen it, the beach at Clovelly is basically a steep pile of pebbles. So of course as we try to land on the beach, Rich has the prop up in the air while I jump off the front of the dinghy and take an unexpected dip in the cold water. Who am I kidding, of course I expected this. I packed everything into a dry bag, even a spare pair of clothes. Some might even say I’m actually getting pretty good at predicting the likelihood of my falling into the sea. With the tide coming in, we yoink the dinghy up the steep rocky beach and pile a ton of stones on top of the anchor to stop it drifting out to sea while we’re out for lunch - losing the dinghy now would not be good.

I was pleased as punch that we were meeting my mum and dad for lunch. At this point we’re on day 12 of the trip, and while Rich and I can talk forever and ever about absolutely nothing, it’s nice to see a friendly face and have someone else to talk to for a change.

We headed down the beach to meet mum and dad at The Red Lion. Dad is out on the harbour wall taking photos of Cheeky Monkey out at anchor, and is grinning from ear to ear when he spots us headed over. He’s practically brimming with pride - which I love to see. Bless him, he’s tracked our whole journey so far using our Saillogger tracking link, and later we would learn that he even had maps out on the kitchen table to track our miles. So cute!

Now, I should add that Saillogger is in fact a map, so why he needs a paper map I’m not sure. But you do you dad.

I quickly change into dry clothes in the toilets (clever little sausage that I am just knew that this would happen), and take in the warmth of the pub and the large red wine waiting for me on the table. We devoured a decent portion of scampi and chips (mum and dad had the fish and chips). We chat away for hours about whats been going on back home, all of the fun dilemmas we’ve had on the trip so far and what we think might happen next in these final few days. The food was great, the company was smashing, and the attention from mum’s Barney dog was very much welcome. The time flew by, and before we knew it it was 4.30pm and mum and dad needed to dash off to catch the last Land Rover back up the hill to the car park.

We waved them off, and found ourselves a cosy little nook in the hotel bar terrace over looking Little Monkey on the beach - she’s still perfectly safe. We whipped out the Uno deck and played a few games under the electric heaters.

Eventually our tummies start to rumble, the calling sign to head back to the boat for some din dins. We walk back to the beach, and at this point we know that not only had the tide come in, but it had not gone back out again. Only now it’s a lot further out than when we had landed earlier this morning. So we have the fun job of getting the dinghy all the way down the beach and into the sea. So I strip down and change back into my “Gemma is going to end up in the sea” outfit, and take the outboard off and remove the dinghy anchor to lighten the load. Now you would think that carrying it all downhill back to the sea would be easier than carrying it uphill right? Wrong. This is now at least double the distance we dragged it up the beach before lunch. The rocks are wet and slippery with seaweed. So yeh, not the easiest of tasks. 

Once we reached the sea with the dinghy, the strong independent female I am decided I would carry both the outboard and the anchor back down the beach single handedly. Think again, slippy rocks + two rather heavy bulky items + a not so balanced Gemma = not a good idea. 

And of course, launching back into the water wasn't exactly much better than when we arrived 🙈

The wind had picked up and the swell was bigger than it was earlier that morning, so of course I ended up wading into the sea up to my waist to kick us off the rocky beach with crashing waves pushing us back onto the beach. We're 100% leaving the dinghy in the harbour tomorrow, lesson learned.

Back on board, we found my favourite mug in pieces on the galley floor. It had been left out on the side from that morning's much-needed coffee, normally fine, but the anchorage turned out to be less sheltered than we'd hoped, and between the wind spinning the boat around and the swell picking up, it must have flown off the counter and smashed. Absolutely heart broken 💔.

After the beach escapades and the smashed mug I was done for the day, so Rich took over the cooking dinner for a change. Gammon steaks topped with a fried egg and pineapple rings, we demolished them and settled in for an episode or two of Clarkson's Farm (a recommendation from mum and dad at lunch). I fell asleep somewhere in the middle of episode two - last thing I remember was Clarkson building a Christmas grotto 💁‍♀️.

The day the fog finally lifted

Thursday’s night’s sleep was quite possibly the worst nights sleep we’ve ever had on the boat. And that’s really quite saying something considering less than a week ago we were spinning round a buoy in 40 knot winds in Helford.

At 5am I gave up trying to sleep. With the boat heeled over to starboard so much that I had to use my feet to prop me up and stop me falling down the bed in the aft cabin I’d had enough, and decided to not fight this losing battle.

Meanwhile Rich miraculously slept through it all. That boy can sleep through anything I swear. So I grabbed my book, made a cuppa and enjoyed the peace and quiet on deck as the sun rose on the horizon.

Now Lundy is still on Rich’s wishlist for this trip, something about finding great joy in going to an island that you can’t drive or walk to, so I check the latest weather forecast to see if sailing to Lundy today is a viable option. Turns out it’s only a 2.5 hour sail and we’d have a beam reach the whole way - a very welcome change from the close-hauled sailing we’d done on every leg of this trip so far - so it looks to me like a plausible option. That and I could really do with a big walk - my bones ached and as a firm believer in motion is lotion a big walk around an island sounded like the best way to spend the day.

When Rich eventually wakes up I excitedly tell him that we’re going to Lundy! Then Rich kindly reminded me that while we’re now hardened sailors that have sailed in 35 knot winds (this was an absolute no-go prior to this trip), the wind we were getting was pretty much always higher than forecasted, so headed out expecting 35 knots might seem ok, but it didn’t leave much room for “but what if it’s more than that”. So sailing to Lundy is now scrapped from the itinerary. I wasn’t happy about it (I’m still not now), but it was the right decision.

So now we have a full day off from sailing and no plan. We jump in the dinghy and use the day to explore Clovelly - still itching for that walk - I convince Rich that we should walk up the high street in search of a tea towel and a pub.

This time we’re smart sailors and even use the harbour as our landing point after yesterdays debacle. I can not even begin to explain how much easier that was. 

We wandered up to the top of the high street (I don’t think Rich knew how steep it would be, and I absolutely didn’t tell him otherwise I never would have got him off the boat) in search of a tea towel to add to our growing collection - sadly no luck on the tea towel front but we did find The New Inn. We sat outside with a pint of cider and took in the view of the village below as the fog finally started to lift up from the coastline.

Now Rich could have stayed there with that view for the rest of the day, but me and my itchy feet needed to get moving again before I seized up again. So I promise Rich more pub time, just a different pub.

We headed down to the harbour, and back to The Red Lion, found two seats out in the sunshine (the fog has completely gone now at this point - at last!). The view was just incredible. Another pint of cider and pizzas for dinner on order, that spot was utter perfection. It was one of those moments when you forget everything that went horribly wrong, and go “yeh, totally worth it”.

Tomorrow, we’re planning to set sail and leave Clovelly for our final destination, Portishead.

Clovelly Stats

• Dinghy launches/landings: 4
• Times Gemma ended up in the sea: 2 too many
• Mugs lost: 1 (RIP)
• Pints of cider: 10+ (lost count)
• Height climbed: 42m (equal to 14 flights of stairs, cheers Clovelly)
• Tea towels acquired: 0 (still hunting)
• Hours of sleep Thursday night: not enough