Day 23 …. Monday 18th June … At last on the move again… Newlyn to Padstow. Crossing the Doom Bar.

A short summary of Monday. Finally the red line was lifted and after three weather bound days in Newlyn, we cast off our mooring lines and headed out to sea. A gloomy seascape met Poli Poli …. very poor visibility and fog ( last time was Portland ). Well over the next five hours in quite ‘thick fog, strong winds and rolling seas… we rounded Lands End… one of the most famous headlands of Britain… but never actually saw it. In fact, all the way to Padstow, we did not see St. Ives nor Newquay nor all the coast in between.

Our arrival at the mouth of the River Camel and the entrance to Padstow… was again a scene out of a ghost story… huge black rocks, swirling mists and white breakers shooting in the air as they smashed against the rocks. We navigated the estuary in a 20 knot wind and crossed the Doom Bar just after 8pm. Yes Doom Bar is a beer  you can buy in Tesco’s …. Doom does not mean death and destruction… Cornish for ‘sand’. Poli Poli successfully crossed this mythical sand bar and berthed in the inner harbour at Padstow on the River Camel about 8.30 pm.

For the first time on this trip we had to raft up against a 50 foot steel sailing yacht owned by two brothers who kept it at Portishead ( Bristol ). After tidying up the boat, we got off and headed for the nearest pub in Padstow . As we approached one not 50 yards from the boat… a mighty roar went up, followed by cheering and singing… yes England had scored a last minute winner against… well by the volume of the cheers you have thought… Germany, or France or Spain or….. no, Tunisia in the World Cup.

Photo… Poli Poli rafted up against big 50 foot steel sailing yacht in Padstow Harbour. Note fog outside.

We looked through the window at the jam packed rooms and decided to look for another pub. We found one round the other side of the harbour…. Padstow looked quite an interesting place, Mike sang the praises of Rick Stein… the chef… for bringing  Padstow back to life with his restaurants. We ate a hearty meal, drank Cornish lager… in the quiet and peace after all the football supporters had gone home.

Poli Poli… the evening arrival…. rafted up in Padstow, note fog outside harbour.

After trying to pay our dues at the harbour office in the dark, very tired, we returned to Poli Poli… to be told “youv’e left your lights on!”… yes all our navigation lights were both working and shining out over the harbour basin.

So 65.5 n. miles Newlyn to Padstow, 10 hours duration, and now 478 n.miles from Eastbourne. The journey north had begun. Tomorrow Padstow to Ilfracombe.