Isles of Scilly
When Tom and Lorraine Owen gave up sailing they built their own-design 30ft motorboat. Here, they make the most of swapping sails for power on an idyllic three-month island cruise
Tom and I were lucky enough to be able to take early retirement from regular employment more than 10 years ago when we were in our fifties. My husband had been a professional boat designer and builder and I had worked in the public sector. Our semi-retirement gave us the opportunity to cruise every summer and also to take on a full-time boatbuilding project. We’d already built a 10-tonne sloop which we launched in 1995 and then sailed for 20 years, and now we were ready for another project – this time a 30ft displacement motorboat. Thea was launched in December 2016, and the story of her build appeared in PBO’s January 2018 issue.
Our spiritual home
We were delighted with Thea’s appearance and initial sea trials, but the real test would come when we took her on her first extended cruise. We didn’t need to spend long deciding where to go. The Isles of Scilly have always been our spiritual boating home, and a three-month cruise from our home port of Dartmouth to the Scillies would give us a good opportunity to trial Thea’s seakeeping, her comfort for extended onboard living, and the efficiency of the engine and ancillary systems we had fitted.
In our early cruising days we’d avoided visiting the Scillies, even sailing past them to the Irish coast rather than stopping off at a place which looked so horrendous on the charts and which had a ‘there be dragons’ reputation. But once we plucked up courage for our first visit we were hooked, and we’ve been there many times since.
The Scillies is a delightful cruising ground – crystal clear aquamarine water with startling white beaches of soft sand – but you must be prepared to check weather forecasts religiously and to move when necessary, which might be more than once a day! Mind you, we had previously visited in a heavy-displacement deep-keel yacht, so this was going to be an entirely different experience. Our rationale was that with our shallow draught we’d be able to anchor close inshore, eliminating the risk of other boats dragging into us in the middle of the night. Also, if necessary we’d be able to take the ground.
‘The Scillies is a delightful cruising ground – but you must be prepared to check weather forecasts religiously’
We left Dartmouth in late May, doing six-hour hops down the coast so that we could take advantage of the ebb tides. Our cruising speed is 7 knots, so every little helps. It was with some apprehension that we left Falmouth to round The Lizard and carry on to the islands. This was going to be our first offshore passage with Thea and we were conscious that we were stepping into the unknown.
The Lizard was in a fairly benign mood, and we got a good boost from the tide down to Land’s End, which we could see passing in the distance. We’d deliberately chosen calm conditions for our first offshore passage but Thea was now a little boat in a big ocean. She gave us no cause for concern, though, as we left the mainland behind and crossed the shipping lanes. With her hard chine hull, any rolling motion was short and quickly dampened.
Because the Isles of Scilly are low
lying, you don’t see land very early, and when you do is a good time to check your course. The tides run strongly along the outside of the archipelago and if you don’t take care, you can spend an hour or so battering against the tide to get into your harbour of choice.
The first sight of land is always thrilling, and we were particularly excited that our new baby had proved capable of bringing us to the place we love. As each island became identifiable, we felt their magic seep into us and draw us in.
First night at anchor
Our preferred option for our first night would have been New Grimsby Sound, but the tide was already falling, and even with our shallow draught we wouldn’t have been able to cross the flats coming in from the south, and we really didn’t want to motor round against the tide to go in from the north. So we decided to anchor up for the night in Watermill Cove, St Mary’s. Local friends told us that a large French yacht had been written off here just a week before when her anchor had dragged and she’d been pounded to pieces on the rocks. However, our confidence in Thea and her equipment was growing and we were sure she’d rise to the challenge of anchoring on the sandy seabeds.
Next day we moved on to New Grimsby and our decision to have a large living space in the wheelhouse started to pay real dividends. We woke early every day, excited by the thought of taking our coffee in the warmth and comfort of our saloon, wrapped in our fleecy blankets and watching the world go by.
There is always something happening on the water in the Scillies, whether it be a three-generation family of boatmen taking out their potting boats in New Grimsby Sound, or watching a flight of seabirds beating up on a shoal of fry. For the entire three months of our cruise, this never lost its magic and we always had to rouse ourselves to start the preparations for the day. This became such a problem that early morning transits were often done with me in my pyjamas at the helm.
Because we were going to stay for so long, we tried to move to different anchorages as and when the weather allowed. We tended not to pick up harbour authority mooring buoys, partly because of the expense for a protracted stay but
mainly because the harbours can become extremely uncomfortable – or even dangerous – if an onshore gale picks up.
Porthcressa is an option on St Mary’s if you want access to a reasonably sized supermarket. There’s also a good laundrette at the top of the beach. We love New Grimsby Sound because it gives you access to both Tresco and Bryher, though the visitors’ mooring buoys can be wild in a northerly blow. We were fortunate that friends allowed us to use their sheltered mooring behind Hangman’s Rock. On Bryher the Fraggle Rock Bar and café by the campsite provides a warm haven for boaties – very welcome on a wet and windy day.
St Agnes Cove can be idyllic and gives an opportunity to visit the Turk’s Head pub – which has one of the best views from any beer garden in the world. It’s possibly matched by the view from the Seven Stones Inn on St Martin’s, with a great anchorage in a southerly blow on the north coast. The beach here is just wonderful – deep, soft sand and clear water.
We’ve ridden out many a gale in St Helen’s Pool, where you may get the wind but at least you don’t get the swell. One of the curiosities of the Isles of Scilly is that the wind and swell can come from two different directions, leading to some uncomfortable nights. Fortunately, Thea’s rolling motion was very short and gentle. Tom had made a stabiliser to dampen any rolling motion, a design by Eric Hiscock, but we rarely had to use it.
Hidden treasures
We love walking, and tried to walk around whichever island was nearest every day. This is never a hardship as the islands are so small and there are usually clear paths. Each turn reveals a hidden treasure, a new and even prettier view, with gorse and heather adding more colour to the palette. My one-word description for the landscapes would be ‘sparkly’ – the colours are so vibrant.
Our daily routine also usually involved gathering food. We have a crab pot (which Tom also built) and the first job would
‘As each island became identifiable, we felt their magic seep into us and draw us in’
be to check out its offerings for the day. We did very well for lobster, to the point that we once had lobster sandwiches for breakfast! Then Tom might go fishing.
Thea proved to be a stable angling platform with her deep, safe cockpit, and we were able to fish on some of the more exposed marks around the Northern Rocks, catching pollock up to 7lb in weight. Filleted pan-fried in butter and served with lemon, pollock fresh from the sea is wonderful.
Next up it would be time to go a-shrimping. We have friends born and bred on the islands who rely on shrimps caught during the summer to liven up their winter menu and we helped them catch large numbers of shrimps for the freezer. They’re so prolific that a rummage with a large net under a raft of seaweed creates a burst of shrimps, which explode from the weed like fireworks.
A stack of freshly cooked shrimp with a side of the day’s boat-made bread plus chilli dipping sauce, is the food of the gods. We usually accompanied our seafood with vegetables grown in local gardens or sea kale picked from the beaches, sometimes finishing with the odd strawberry from plants grown in a washing-up bowl in the cockpit.
We had to make space in this ‘garden’ for some grass to satisfy the digestive needs of our sea-cat Buddy. Buddy has done more than 5,000 sea miles and is now very relieved to be rid of the ‘flappy things’. He never liked the noise of sails cracking in the wind but tolerates the gentle hum of the diesel engine.
I have years of experience provisioning a boat for months afloat, but I made two glaring errors this time – not enough cat food for Buddy and not enough beer for the skipper. Luckily, kind friends visiting the islands on their own boats came over with their bilges bulging with food sachets and beer cans to make up the shortfall.
Homeward bound
We said a fond farewell to the islands early in September and made our way home. This was the journey that gave Thea her most challenging trips to date. Rounding the Lizard was lumpy, but she kept a steady course through the overfalls and we headed round to Falmouth. Further on, we met big head seas coming out of Plymouth and then had a rollercoaster ride as we took short, steep waves just aft of the beam all the way to Salcombe. But Thea’s long bilge keels did their job and held her on track. This was a huge relief because we now trust her offshore rating and I feel I can lift my embargo on a trip to Ireland, another favourite cruising destination.
Did we enjoy ourselves? We certainly did. Was it worth the loss of our former companion, our much-loved sloop Selene, and 18 months of hard work? It certainly was. Thea gave us safe passage and a safe haven and we were entertained for three months. That’s a result in our book.
‘A stack of freshly cooked shrimp with a side of the day’s boat-made bread plus chilli dipping sauce, is the food of the gods’