An English Summer 59

 

I award myself lunch on the beach, at Bryher.

After a morning row in to Tresco.

To load up the dinghy with water cans, fresh bread and my fruit and veg for the week.

A canoe borne family paddle into the beach, for a Swallows and Amazons picnic.  

I walk south, following a winding path, through luxuriant undergrowth. 'Gone-native' nasturtiums peep out of the walls of variegated green. Invigorated by the storm's rain.

I pause at the bottom of the island, watching the seals (not pictured) surface for air, before diving once more, in perfect synchronicity.

Across St Mary's Road, the harbour wall, with the Scillonian moored inside it, is visible through the sharp clear air. The Edwardian cargo ketch, Irene, lies to her anchor, at the foot of the Tresco flats. Too large to enter New Grimsby.

Back in the sound, Stargazer has a new neighbour. Firefly, a thirty two foot Dragonfly trimaran. A shoal draft sub-species able to sail faster than the breeze (through the alchemy of apparent wind). Her centreboard enables her to both sail effectively to windward, and to reduce her draft, to point six of a metre, at rest. She needs no ballast, her floats provide the righting power. A true lightweight flyer, capable of fast passages. She is steady as a rock too, whilst the monohulls roll on the swell, at change of tide. Internal space is her only compromise.