Good luck matey!

PicoMicroYacht was far enough west to be in Cornwall, where the ports change in character and become more distinctive.

I was leaving Looe, which has about 60 fishing boats and a thriving fishing industry.

The tide was ebbing from the harbour and I was soon just outside.

The plan was to leave Looe at slack water in the channel, go round St George’s Island, and use the tide to row down to Fowey.

I read not to go between the island and the mainland because of the rocky reefs. But the sea was comparatively calm, there was tidal clearance, and fishing boats were doing just that.

Soon St George’s (Looe) Island was receding into the distance. To the south of the Island are the Ranneys, a group of rocks, and an underwater reef that causes quite nasty overfalls.

I looked inland and could see cattle on the cliffs – their sound was reassuring and pastoral.

They were wandering all over the landscape.

Out to sea there were some larger boats.

It wasn’t a long trip and after a few hours I was rowing into Fowey.

A canoeist was coming out, skirting the rocks, and I couldn’t help but notice he was not wearing a life jacket.

Fowey can be best seen from the water where the slightly ramshackle but equally civilised buildings are quite striking.

Soon I was nearing the slipway, opposite the car ferry

I met two friendly fishermen unloading their catch on the slipway.

The skipper got into conversation, curious about the way PicoMicroYacht was kitted up – he seemed somewhat curious about me coming from Looe and also have rowed from Salcombe.

They earn their living crabbing. They use quite a modest boat, with a large hole in the starboard side,  to transfer their crabs to the shore. He reassured me that this was part of the gunnel missing, the rest of the boat solid.

They go all round the coast fishing for crabs, also down to Dodman point, a rough place to be in adverse weather.

As they drove off, the other fisherman waved and said ‘good luck matey.’

More mud, the vagaries of the tides and an encounter with danger

On a previous occasion, on the Medway, PicoMicroYacht had to be punted across the mud to reach the Commodore Hard. This was planned. But on this occasion a further experience of the mudflat was not planned.

The idea was to row between Littlestone-on-Sea and Rye, going round Dungeness. I was to start at the Varne Boat and Social Club.

This club has a reputation for being very friendly and welcoming, a pleasant sheltered place to go sailing and fishing They are also a leading watersports club with the moto 'Age is no barrier - the fun starts where the land ends.' PicoMicroYacht would echo that sentiment.

 The Varne Boat Club beach shown at high tide.

Because Dungeness sticks out into the English Channel, the sea can be choppy, so a day with a neap tide and low wind was chosen. Also, the Lydd firing range was not in action.

The tides in this part of the world are somewhat complicated. One reason is a sort of watershed in which the tide runs up the English Channel and simultaneously down the North Sea, meeting off the South East of England.

A normal watershed is the highest bit where the two flows come together and from where the water will then subside in different directions, back where it came from.

But there is a complication because the English Channel also funnels as it reaches the narrow part near Dover. The tide slops over into the North Sea, subsiding back west down the English Channel later than expected.

For this reason at Littlestone-on-Sea the tide starts to ebb down the English Channel about four hours after high tide.

I mention this because my plan was to leave Littlestone-on-Sea about three hours after high tide and stem the last of the east-going tide as I headed southwest down the English Channel.

Three hours was too optimistic because the tidal height by then had reduced too much to launch PicoMicroYacht.  The sandy beach at high tide gave way to mudflats and the sea was receding fast.

But I had a go at pulling PicoMicroYacht across the mudflats, which was successful until I was about 40 yards from the sea. At that point, my back twinged and I had to stop, not wanting to risk damaging it.

PicoMicroYacht stranded on the mudflat with the sea receding

As the sea receded further I sat in the boat contemplating what to do and almost immediately rain clouds formed  just off the coast and there was heavy rain. I took shelter, lying under my boat cover. But then it started to thunder with lightning hitting the sea. I became worried as this was getting nearer and PicoMicroYacht felt very exposed.

Looking back to the shore as the rain clouds came in

I decided to walk to the shore. I was fairly confident of safety. On the way out I had been dragging the boat along a near-dried shallow stream which had a hard bottom caused by the way in which it washed the sand down from the higher part of the beach. If I stuck to this stream bed I could retrace my steps safely. But I went very slowly and carefully. It was all a compacted sand and mud mixture.

However, when I arrived back on land I found out there had been concern that I might have fallen into a mud hole.

A man from the lifeboat station shop said:

‘I was looking out for you using my binoculars. When I couldn’t see you I was worried something had happened. The mud is very soft ..... people have died out at there, even a horse....’ 

He must have looked when I lying under the boat cover. I apologied for not radioing the coastguard.

I now had to wait for the tide to go out and start coming in again. I sat there enjoying the sea view and called the coastguard explaining my situation.

I was not too worried about the mud on my return to PicoMicoYacht because of knowing about the compacted sand along the stream bed. 

Just in case, I went holding my portable VHF radio with my lifejacket on and and remembering what to do if stuck in quicksand. I told someone on the balcony of the Varne Boat Club what I was doing before I left.

The mud stretched for miles, illuminated by the large skyscape.

I got there safely and waited for the tide, contemplating this beautiful landscape whilst listening to the oystercatchers. Inspired by the French sculpture Auguste Rodin, I took another photograph.

A helicopter flew close over the head, having a look at me to check I was alright. I resisted waving, in case this was misinterpreted.

The sea was coming in fast now.

When it came in I slowly drifed to the shore as the sun began to set.

On my return someone from the Varne Boat Club helped me pull PicoMicroYacht up their ramp and also gave me a cup of tea.I met Paul Fowler, the treasurer, and chatted briefly about my experiences.

What should I do if stuck in mud? I found this good advice on Wikihow – how to get out of quicksand.

http://www.wikihow.com/Get-out-of-Quicksand

Or this video here, which illustrates how cautious one should be. This is more of a warning video rather than what to do - don't have nightmares watching this!