The jaunty red ferry, bustles busily to and fro, in the forecast-defying sunshine.
Weekend dinghy sailors prepare, to unwind on the water.
Rigging up, on the beach, which nestles below, the white cottages of, Helford Passage.
I have rowed down, from Stargazer's anchorage.
First I took the Avon upriver. Toward the point (tall dark trees, centre left of picture), at the head of Frenchman's Creek.
And on in. Silver trunked, skeletal boughs, tumble into shimmering green waters. Reflecting the darker hues, of the wooded hillsides, to either hand. There is a sense that sound, light, perhaps the boundaries between fact and fiction, are blurred and softened here, in this atmospheric setting. The stage, for an historic fantasy, living on, in the modern world.
Stargazer is waiting for me, beneath the bluff, when I return. Her batteries at full charge, despite being away from shore power, for a fortnight, now. The diesel tank remains full. Water and food, though, are depleting. Not critical, but soon, we will have to secure an alongside berth, in Falmouth, to replenish both. Best to let the weekend, a peak time for marinas, pass first, I think. Then try our luck. Meanwhile, there is time to explore some more, of the Helford River, by tender.
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