An English Summer 65

 

I hang from Stargazer's bow, bread knife in hand, sawing at the haystack, of seaweed, hanging from the anchor. Rendering it too heavy for the windlass to lift, from the water. Our trusty Delta has been down for a fortnight, become part of the seabed ecosystem. Small crabs, sundry gelatinous life forms, and a large white shellfish, have made it their home.

The weed slowly falls away, piece by piece, as I wield the knife. Until the seafloor fauna accept that we are leaving and relinquish their grip. The raft of weed suddenly falls away. Stargazer's bow lifts. We skim off lightly, over the Tresco flats, in twenty knots of breeze. Glad to be under way once more.

Lucky, our gale riding companion, joined us for breakfast. Heralding the end of the four day blow. The wind slowly but surely begins to ease.  Shifting from the west to the southwest, as it does so. Opening up the possibility of a visit to St Mary's harbour, sheltered from the south, but open to the west.

There is time, for a farewell morning row ashore, to Bryher, before we leave. There will not be depth, to cross the flats, until fifteen hundred. I walk the craggy, palm fringed, silver sanded shore, which has sheltered us so well.

We have our pick of visitor mooring buoys, on arrival, at St Mary's. Stargazer lies tucked between two fishing boats. On the basis that fishermen usually know the most sheltered spots. It should make for some good photographs too, once the evening rain has cleared.