Tresco and Bryher

Day 29
31st May
Another calm night. Woke at about 7.30 and after breakfast got ready and rowed over to the shore. Leaving the dinghy definitely above the HW mark, I made my way along to the quay and caught the ferry to Tresco. This is a larger, more populated and more developed island. Its character has been shaped in recent times by the growth of time-share properties and a heliport. New Grimsby, on the west side, facing Bryher, boasts a very well stocked store and deli. The great number of different cheeses on display give a fair indication of the yuppification of the place. But I had not come to disapprove of what some would call progress. My goal was the Abbey Garden. There was the usual NT style gift shop, and a good cafeteria. First coffee, then in I went.

I shall not attempt to do justice to the place. You have to see it. 150 years of skilful and dedicated work have created something special. High point was, when sitting down for a moment, I saw a hobby zoom past. Even the sun came out. The interesting collection of ships' figureheads held my interest for some time, then it was the cafeteria again and a pasty for lunch. I tried going round again afterwards, but you can only take so much, and somewhat punch-drunk I walked out and along quiet footpaths to the north side and back towards New Grimsby. Here I enjoyed a quiet half hour in the New Inn, and a fine Cornish pint. Onwards and upwards, over the brow of the island to Old Grimsby,which boasts the island primary school. As it was half-term there was no-one there, but use was being made of the playing field. A footpath led uphill to the north and this I followed to the spine of the island. Fine views would have been forthcoming, but the weather chose to deteriorate so much that I simply pressed on, very much aware that I was unsuitably dressed. A somewhat wet and bedraggled sailor trudged into New Grimsby. At the pier is a very useful waiting room, and here I spent the next hour or so reading from the stock of books thoughtfully provided, and waited for the ferry back. Two ladies arrived with a huge stack of luggage and five children. They were camping, and moving from Tresco to Bryher. Very brave. But they cheerfully asserted that it was no worse than the Lake District, and I believed them. Once on Bryher, I strode out rapidly to try to restore some warmth to my chilled person, and it was not long before I was back on board. A quick change of clothes and a hot soup did the trick and restored me.

Day 30
1st June
Woke to more rain. Why get up early? Then a shaft of sunlight illuminated the hatch. The rain had stopped. Whilst making coffee I looked out, and, as if by magic, saw the wall of mist and gloom moving off to the east. Within a few minutes Hugh Town was bathed in sunshine. The rest of the day was cloudless and warm.
Chores done, I rowed over and walked to the pier along the beach. People were about in some numbers. At the shop I got a stamp. The lady serving told me there were some eighty persons on the electoral roll. A stone's throw from the store I came across a little bar/café. A family was drinking in the garden at the front. Upstairs was the café, where I joined half a dozen others for a coffee. Maidstone prices on the tariff. A couple held us all in thrall with a wooden tower game in which you take turns at removing pieces and adding them to the tower. Eventually the husband triumphed, and we could all relax.
Making my way to the north along a clear footpath I climbed to a high point before coming down opposite the two castles that guarded New Grimsby Sound, one built by Charles I, the other by Cromwell. The sea was still rough from yesterday's wind, and the breakers smashing on the rocks were dramatic. Took many pics. At the northern tip of Bryher Shipman Head is separated from the island by a narrow chasm through which the sea was frothing. Even here on the windswept headland there are masses of flowers, especially thrift, in huge masses. Heathers and low-growing honeysuckle abound. From here the path led along the west side, and where the cliffs were eroding the nature of the strata was clear to see. Overlying the granite is boulder clay and moraine from the last ice age. More dramatic pictures of Hell Bay. Not hard to see how it got its name, as it was like a washing machine. Then back along the path pas a previously unseen but apparently well-appointed campsite to the handful of houses called Southward and a little shed café. Inside was clean and bright. Several groups were having lunch. I followed suit with a jacket potato and pot of tea. Very generous, well presented, and the same price you would pay as at home.
Back to the beach, a chat with Mike , who was under his boat scraping the keels. I lent him my new spade, and later he walked over, the tide still being out, and had a cuppa on Pepsand. It occurred to me that the weather would be good for drying, so I did a wash, hanging it all out in the rigging. Now everything is clean again. Good for the hands, too. Now the water was lapping round the boat as I lazed and read the history of the Tresco Abbey Gardens. Still not a cloud in the sky. What a day!!

Day 31
2ndJune
A quiet day spent resting up and getting ready for the trip to Ireland. After breakfast I walked to the Fraggles Safe and had a coffee before going to the shop for a stamp. Back to the beach and a chat with Mike who invited me for a meal on his boat. He is a vegetarian, so it should be different. Later I went back to the shop and bought some red wine to take over. The shop is remarkable in the scope and standard of its wares. Mike said later that the lady owner, who bakes the cakes and pasties, is about to retire. I hope someone as good takes her place. In the afternoon I made full passage plans and did final preparations. The forecast is holding and it should be good, though 140nm is a long one and could take 30 hours.
The tide was nearly in when I rowed over to Mike at 6. We ate in the cockpit. Salmon fish cakes. Delicious! It got chilly when the sun became low in the sky, and we retreated into the saloon. Charlie is such a well-behaved dog. Mike is a good conversationalist, and time went very fast. I rowed back to Pepsand well fed and at peace with the world.

http://www.rnli.org.uk/