Day 7: "Ahoy me haaarties" Aberystwyth to Fishguard

Today's motley crew: David (Volunteer Ranger), Tim (Llanerchaeron Head Gardener),

 Gwen (Ceredigion Ranger),  John and me

When under pressure, John abandons his usual affable tact and switches to skipper mode.  This is the John that burst into the harbourmaster's office as I was arranging the onward postage of the elusive stop-solenoid.  “We’re leaving… NOW!” 

With the tide approaching the point when leaving Aberystwyth ceases to be possible, and shortly before we were about to cast off, our motley crew arrived.  Minutes later we were motoring though the rain into a gloomy Cardigan Bay, with our crew’s high spirits almost drowning out the throb of the engine.

Gwen, giving us a quick lesson in marine ecology

Pirate-inspired amateur-dramatics soon faded away as we started to take a lumpy swell and the rain beat down even harder.  Gwen pointed out a succession wonderful coves and headlands that she and her team of volunteers look after.  Craig yr Adar, Coebal, Cwm Silio, Cwm Tydu, Lochtyn, Penbryn and, finally, after about 4 hours of pitching and rolling, Mwnt.

Gwen and David

By this point the wind had increased to a stiff northerly, the swell had become even more tempestuous and two of the crew had ‘donated their breakfast to Neptune’.  At least, we thought, it will be all over when we round Cardigan Island and head into the Teifi estuary. One glance into the jagged jaws of the estuary made it clear that we would have to press on to Fishguard, another 3 hours of stomach-churning sailing.

Coming ashore at the old harbour at Fishguard

They say that the best cure for seasickness is to sit under a tree; well, a stroll through Fishguard for fish and chips seemed to do the job just as well.  We said our farewells to Gwen and David who were having a lift back home with Alison, Tim’s wife, and headed back to Capercaille.  

Not for the first time in this trip, Capercaille started hammering on the bottom as the tide reached full ebb, a serious inconvenience that would make sleep impossible.  This necessitated a quick repositioning to an anchorage, which returned the boat to a more soporific cradle-rocking movement.

John and Tim going ashore for re-fuelling

Go to Day 8

Day 6: Estuarine spendour - Barmouth to Aberystwyth

I’m learning to feel excited rather than worried at the sound of wind whistling in rigging when I wake up.  It means one thing: fast sailing.  And my eager anticipation was fulfilled by an exhilarating sail south to Aberystwyth.  The broad valleys of the Mawddach, Dysyni and Dyfi channeled and concentrated the wind giving us the occasional extra boost, helping us along at a top speed of 6.9 knots and leaning the boat right over.

The mountain fastness of Cader Idris, towering over the Dysyni valley

We’ve found that there’s no such thing as ‘dolphin fatigue’.  The wonder of the first encounter repeats itself every time.  Today’s performance took place off Borth.  As soon as we spotted the fins, they’d already seen us and were heading our way.  Seconds later they were riding the bow, leaping clean out of the sea and clapping their tails onto the water.  The sight of a pair of them alongside the bow, twisting and swapping places at high speed will stay with me forever.

We moored off Aberystwyth to wait for the tide, finally coming alongside the marine berth at 3pm, guided by a very friendly and helpful harbourmaster.

Aberystwyth appears over the bow on a broad reach

Today’s coastline – wonderful though it is – is a bit of an ‘empty quarter’ when it comes to NT Neptune coastline.  Tomorrow will be different, as we enter the coastline of the Cardis.

Go to Day 7

Day 5: Snowdonia's coast - Pwllheli to Barmouth

Odd one out?  Pwllheli Marina

Sitting amongst the immaculate gleaming white cruisers and performance racing yachts of Pwllheli marina, John’s 31-year old Capercaille looked like a boat that had seen some adventures.  After a leisurely breakfast in the company of my father, who had called by to wish us bon voyage, we were joined by our latest crew member, Lowri the Welsh Coast Project Officer and organiser-extraordinaire of this year’s Welsh coast Neptune celebrations.

Lowri at the helm

We cast off and retraced last night’s dash-for-refuge and continued to the St. Tudwal islands, where we drifted past the restless agitation of the seabird colonies.   With no wind to speak of, we motored on a bearing of 160 degrees right out into the middle of Cardigan Bay to avoid Sarn Badrig, the ten mile long shingle bank that juts out at right angles to the coast, before turning east and lining up the bow with the sunlit houses of Barmouth.  We were joined briefly by a solitary dolphin, powering effortlessly alongside.

The sinuous pattern of massive grey drystone walls at Egryn stood out clearly in the late afternoon sun and, as we approached the entrance to the mighty Mawddach estuary, we spotted Ty’n Ffynnon, the onetime home of the National Trust’s first donor, Fanny Talbot, and the surrounding land that she gave in the first two months of our existence in March 1895.

Dinas Oleu and Ty'n Ffynnon (white house above town)

To round off a pleasant evening at Barmouth, John and I paid a pilgrimage to the Trust's first piece of land, Dinas Oleu and then a pleasant diversion to the Frenchman’s Grave.  On our way, we explored the higgledy-piggledy fishermen’s-cottages, a number of which were donated by Fanny Talbot to John Ruskin's Guild of St George where he embarked on his brief but influential idealistic experiment.

 Sitting on the centenary viewpoint, which I was involved with building in 1995

Go to Day 6

Day 4: Another day in paradise: Porthdinllaen to Pwllheli

 

Morning light at Porthdinllaen

One of the pleasures of this trip is that we get to see familiar places from an unfamiliar aspect, and at an unfamiliar time of day.  And so it was with our emergence on deck at about 5:30am, breathing in the chill morning air and admiring the houses of Porthdinllaen, which were reflecting the warm pink dawn glow. 

Soon we spotted our next passenger-colleague, Laura Hughes, the Trust's Llŷn Coastal Ranger, strolling down the hill to the beach.  Our duty this morning was to convey her to her first meeting of the day, at Aberdaron.  We passed a succession of some of the loveliest NT coastal places, such as Porth Gwylan, Porthor, Porth Llanllawen and eventually, Braich y Pwll at very end of  Llŷn.

Lowri at the helm in the Bardsey Sound

 The infamous Swnt Enlli, Bardsey Sound was thankfully as calm as I'd ever seen it as we motored through just before the end of slack water and the 'tidal gate' slammed shut.  Laura's unusual commute to work completed, we had a look around Porth y Swnt, the Trust's interpretation of Llŷn rich environment and cultural traditions before enjoying a perfect afternoon's sail - accompanied by a fresh north-easter and pods of bottlenose dolphins - past superb NT coast all the way to Porth Ceiriad, where we anchored for a late lunch.

Later, after supper at Traeth Llanbedrog, we rowed ashore for a pint in the Glyn y Weddw, where we were joined by Richard Tudor, three-times skipper in the world’s toughest yacht race, the round-the-world challenge going westward, regarded by sailors as the wrong way.  

 

Yachtsman Richard Tudor

A couple of pints and a few fascinating tales later, we rowed through choppy waters to Capercaille which was having a hard time repeatedly grounding with a sickening judders as the waves swept past.  

Eager to avoid a most unpleasant night in the swell, we motored to Pwllheli marina, finally coming along side a pontoon at 3am, after some testing night-time navigation, 20 hours after we got up at Porthdinllaen. 

Go to Day 5