An English Summer 23

 

The shelter, from the northerly breeze, is almost complete, on this side of the Helford River. Stargazer now lies, comfortably, in the lee of the point, which guards Porth Navas. Above the creek, the river winds its way, inland, through gently rising pastureland. A picture of pastoral tranquility.

We re-anchored here, beneath the bluff, after I took the Avon, for an exploratory morning row, into Porth Navas creek itself.

We pass the, Darren Newton designed, Dazcat 'Lady Bounty,' moored, in the last of the deep water, off the entrance. We know her, lithe and athletic form (the antithesis of the boxy 'condo-cat' designs, currently so in vogue), from our days at Woolverstone. In the early noughties, Missee Lee and she were berth-mates there.

A tall Grey Heron watches, as I row deeper into the creek, willing the rowlocks not to squeak and thus maintain its silence . I do not see the, metre high, or more, bird, until we are almost upon it. So perfectly does the grey and white of the plumage blend, with the shimmer of the light, on the steely water; and the orange legs and beak merge, with the colours of the kelp. So still stands the patient fisherman.

Still further in, an old school Hirondelle cat, bold and blue, lies, dried out. As I continue my leisurely daily stroll, by oar.

This morning, my body clock still awry, from Wednesday's twenty hour marathon, I awoke, disoriented and bleary, at zero four hundred . I went on deck, for a breath of fresh air, to clear my head. Momentarily I wonder if I am hallucinating, or having a supernatural experience. Through the dawn mizzle, I see the ghostly spars of a square rigged ship, astern. Can this be La Mouette, I briefly question?

She turns out to be the Marjorie, round from Falmouth. She arrived, after I had turned in early, last night and picked up a vacant mooring, just astern of Stargazer. I had not noticed the buoy, when we came in. A hazard of anchoring in the dark. Perhaps too, of being only semi alert yesterday, dozing in the cockpit throughout. Today, fully refreshed, I can see that Stargazer does not rest comfortably here, in this north wind . I am uneasy too, that she is lying amongst moored boats, not beyond them, as I had intended. We cross the river, from beneath the boat house, to our new anchorage, in the lee of the bluff, off Porth Navas. Where Stargazer and I can both rest easy.