family adventure
Having sailed Bounty’s End across the south Pacific, Conrad Humphreys opts for a more sedate family adventure on Plymouth’s River Tamar
Conrad Humphreys takes his children cruising in Bligh’s mutiny boat
There is something magical about planning a mini Mutiny experience with your two young children, even if your final destination is only around 10 miles away. Having spent more than 60 days on board Bounty’s End during the recreation of William Bligh’s 4,000-mile journey across the south Pacific for Channel 4’s Mutiny series, I’ve become quite accustomed to venturing out in her with nothing more than some fishing gear, a stove and a sleeping bag. So asking my girls, Katelyn and Isabel to pack ‘lightly’ and only take what they would need for a long weekend proved quite a challenge, as each wanted to bring their favourite
cuddly toy and plenty of books to read.
Before long, their mum Vikki had also chipped in with more rations than poor Bligh was cast adrift with, and some extra warm clothes. Like Bligh, I felt that we might be a little ‘low on our lines’ by the time we eventually set sail.
Bounty’s End is a replica launch, built by Mark Edwards for the Mutiny series. She is a 22ft long open launch, with two lug sails and a very shallow draft, perfect for venturing up shallow creeks and rivers. During the winter months, I fitted a Lynch electric motor, which has the capacity to charge when under sail, and has a range of 20 miles between charges.
I’ve lived and worked in Plymouth since leaving university, and the city has been my base for several major campaigns, including the 2004-5 Vendée Globe. I feel I know every inch of Plymouth Sound harbour and yet, I’ve never ventured up the River Tamar beyond the dockyard. Our final destination was to be Port Eliot, the private estate on the banks of the River Tiddy near St. Germans. To get there we would need to sail up the Tamar and then cross over to the River Lynher, before entering the Tiddy right at the top of the river. A beautiful railway viaduct marks the start of the Tiddy, which at low tide isn’t navigable.
IN BLIGH’S WAKE
We arrived at Plymouth Yacht Haven and before long resembled most weekend sailors, with a full trolley, complete with cuddly toys. My ideas of getting away from technology were fading fast. After packing Bounty’s End and filling up the barrels with fresh water we headed out of the marina accompanied by the quiet hum of the electric motor.
Plymouth’s historical links to Bligh date back to his birth here on 9 September 1754. The England of Bligh’s childhood saw the start of the Industrial Revolution, and the Royal Navy was pivotal to the country’s wealth and power. In 1754, the navy comprised nearly 500 ships and 75,000 men. Plymouth was the main naval base and even in peacetime the dockyard was busy with ships. With so much maritime activity around, Bligh was destined for a life at sea. Remarkably he was entered on Admiralty records at the age of just seven, as a ship’s boy to the captain of HMS Monmouth. Bligh quickly climbed the ranks, eventually being promoted to sailing master for Captain Cook’s ‘Voyage of Discovery’ which set off from Barn Pool, opposite the Royal William Yard. As we passed to the north of Drake’s Island and into the River Tamar, I looked at my girls sitting on Bounty’s bow, legs over the side counting jellyfish. Last summer’s exceptionally warm weather led to an abundance of jellies and this was deemed much more interesting than hearing Dad talk about Bligh and his early voyages!
The flood tide quickly swept us passed Barn Pool and Royal William Yard, and very soon Devonport Docks were in sight. Ahead was the Tamar Bridge alongside Brunel’s Royal Albert Bridge, which we proceeded to sail under before turning back against the tide to head up the Lynher. A large flock of seagulls had gathered at the entrance to the Lynher which soon scattered as we sailed along, making around 6 knots with the current. Ahead we could see a large naval frigate looming downstream from Jupiter Point where some trainee cadets were out practising boat handling.
From Jupiter Point, the river starts to narrow and apart from the occasional waterside cottage, there are not many buildings until you reach St. Germans and the sights of the railway viaduct that connects the hamlet with Plymouth. We passed a little-known anchorage called Dandy Hole which had a couple of
We settled down for the night, but left the awning open so we could watch the stars
boats at anchor. It looked like a lovely spot to drop the pick, so decided to head back there after visiting Quay Sailing Club at St. Germans. The clubhouse was closed, but we managed to find one of the members and asked if we could moor up next to the quay. Bill, the club officer, kindly said that we could take one of the moorings, but it would dry out at low tide. Bounty’s End has a single long keel band, so although she will happily sit in the mud, she doesn’t always lie upright. We decided to take the last of the ebb back down to Dandy Hole and anchor there for the night.
BETTER WITH SHELTER
During the recreation of Bligh’s voyage, we were exposed to the elements for 60 days. At night we shivered in our wet cotton clothes and by day we sweltered in the heat. Sleep for Bligh and his crew was almost impossible with the tangle of bodies and limbs draped across thwarts and floorboards.
Rather than exposing two young children to the elements, I’ve made an awning for Bounty’s End which gives enough headroom to sit up when lying on the floorboards. We’ve also got some roll mats that provide some additional warmth and comfort over the floorboards. With everything in place, I cooked up some pasta and then we settled down for the night. I left part of the awning open so that we could
watch the stars. It was a beautiful calm night and with just the gentle lap of the tide running past the hull, we all slept soundly.
I awoke to the most incredible sunrise. The tide was still ebbing and just behind our little anchorage, a newly forming mud bank was gradually being exposed to the delight of Katelyn and Isabel, who had already changed into their swimming costumes and jumped into the water. They swam over to the mud bank and gingerly crept out of the water like a couple of mudskippers. Before long both were racing up and down the bank, sliding on their tummies like a couple of demented seals. Covered head to toe in fresh slimy mud, they arrived back at the boat and took turns perched on the boarding ladder cleaning themselves up with fresh buckets of water. After a generous scrub up, we pulled up the anchor and headed back up to Quay Sailing Club and waited for the last of the flood to carry us under the viaduct.
The last leg has no channel markers, other than withies placed along the edge of the deep water. We took it in turns as we passed under the viaduct to listen to the echoes of our voices and then heard the rumble of a train coming. We carefully picked our route close to the shore, where the deeper water ran, and finally we saw the little boathouse at the top of the River Tiddy where the Port Eliot Festival was in the midst of being set up.
We found a perfect berth, a large tuft of grass on the water’s edge with two trees perfectly aligned to run ashore. We had arrived into the heart of the festival which opened to the public the following day.
At high water, there is little more than a metre of water at Port Eliot, but the mud is soft, so we decided to let Bountyõs End sit down in the mud while we went ashore to set up our tent and enjoy the festival.
It was a beautiful calm night and with just the gentle lap of the tide running past the hull, we all slept soundly