Pwllheli – phew!

Vagabond and I resumed our clockwise wanderings on Tuesday (7^th August). I had left her  a drying buoy adjacent to the Swallow Boats workshop and rejoined her on Monday, after a week of house clearance, gardening and all the other stuff you when when starting to "downsize". The journey back to Vaganbond t most of Monday and included a car, three trains, and a slow local bus until I arrived at the Tesco in Cardigan, where I bought a few staples.

 After Matt (the MD of Swallow Boats) had kindly picked me up from there, I joined him and his team looking at their latest creation – a true replica bronze age boat, built out of timber planks and held together with the bronze age equivalent of string and sealing wax.

Bronze age leviathan

Leavinf them contemplating their creation, I went off for a walk, to look at the channel that we needed to take the following morning, for I was anxious to leave as soon as Vagabond floated. My thoughts were to make for Aberystwyth but I was worried that we’d get there just in time for low tide and we wouldn’t have enough depth of water to get into the harbour.

Waiting for the tide

I was woken on the Tuesday to the sound of two enormous tractors as they lifted the leviathan  to the waters’ edge and, like Vagabond, , it lay there, waiting for the tide.  I called the Harbour master at Aberystywth, who confirmed my fears. It meant I was in for a long passage, as we had to get to the north end of Cardigan Bay before nightfall.

Both boats floated at roughly the same time. Matt and his team of 12 volunteers paddled the replica away to it’s temporary resting place, ready for the sea trials on the following day.

At 10:30 am, I steered Vagabond out through the channel, anxiously watching the depth gauge as we went.  We cleared the bar and hoisted the sails, more in hope than expectation. It was a grey morning, with a hint of rain in the air, but the sky was blue out to sea as we headed north. I had the choice of three possible destinations, Bardsay Island, just of the point of North Wales, AberPorth, a bay along the south side of that northern peninsula, or Pwllheli, a marina nearby.

‘Head due north’, I thought  ‘ And decide where to go when you get there.’

The Welsh Coast disappears

The wind dropped. The blue sky disappeared. The rain started. The coast of Wales disappeared. Freddie barked into life.

Nine hours later little had changed except that we were further north and I had to make the decision about the destination.

It would be dark in about an hour. I could just get to Pwllehi before the sunset. The marina, showers and an easy time beckoned. Freddie was cranked up an extra notch.



Snowdon on the right!

The sun came out and gave us some stunning views of the North Welsh hills (including Snowdon). I called the marina and was allocated a berth, which we reached just as dusk was closing in.

53 miles. Ten and a bit hours. The ongest motor boat trip yet.