Llanddwynn Island to Rhoscolyn – July 27th

Some sailing days are perfect and this was one of them. Lightly breakfasted by 8:30 with the mainsail hoisted, I motored out from my spot from in among the rocks and headland before setting the jib and staysail; both tend to block the view from the cockpit; so felt it was prudent to be without them until out in safer water. The wind, all 9 knots of it, was perfect for a gentle reach up the coast, reacquainting myself with this much loved coastline, passing Bodowen, Abberfraw and Rhosneigr ; looking clinically clean, white and unspoilt in the morning sun. Helicopters from RAF Valley,were beating here and there, on training missions; their clattering for a brief moment drowned out by two incredibly noisy racing cars that took it in turns to roar around the circuit at Trac Mon; an acoustic insult as I sailed past – but it did look fun! The track, right on the side of a hill, overlooks both the Irish Sea and Snowdonia. I think it’s where Tiff and Co test cars for their TV program – Fifth Gear.

Rhoscolyn clearly in view from way down the coast looks wonderfully welcome, the white cottages clinging to the edge of the rocky sided bay; the eldest among them nesting as best they can in natural hollows, out of the wind. This is a raw coastline; bushes and shrubs grow away from the prevailing wind, sculptured and burnt by the blast of salty air from the Irish Sea. Few trees manage to thrive; many of those that have tried have had their crowns torn out. Some say ‘You know when you’re on Holy Island, the Seagulls practice their landings flying backwards and the sheep are tied together, like climbers. When a storm comes in from the Irish Sea, they’ve learnt to point into the wind and hang on to a tuft of grass with their teeth! As for the chickens, each one is tied by a length of string to a house brick to stop them getting blown away.’

I sailed right into the bay before furling the jib and staysail then spun into wind and anchored in 9 meters of water close to the entrance of the bay where a dozen or so moorings offer some respite from the SW swell; neatly tucked in behind the headland. So clear is the water, that I could see the anchor bite into the sand below. Sometime later, as I rowed ashore, so many familiar faces looked out; as you do. Time for hugs, hand shakes and welcomes. I’m here for the next two weeks.

I’ve actually made it! The ship’s log an unbelievable 897 miles sailed......One third of the way and time for a two week rest with the family. But first, a short hop remains - to tuck Equinox up in Holyhead Marina around the tip of Anglesey.

Is it all right for me to feel rather proud of myself and more than a bit emotional?

I hope so.