Home Sweet Home

I finally step off the train at Cambridge North seven hours after leaving the Pelican of London. I stop to collect my thoughts, which are quickly interrupted by the sight of Sophie, Charlotte, Elizabeth and Anna all running along the platform to be the first to hug me for the first time in four weeks.

Back home Sophie, Charlotte, and Elizabeth play “Sailing” as a trio on clarinet, piano, and violin, which they’ve been learning over half term.

It’s good to be back.

Big thanks to to Anna for agreeing to me going on this adventure.

Would I do it all again? Definitely.

Homeward Bound

I’m sad to be leaving: I’ve had an amazing three weeks meeting so many people and doing so many things. But this is balanced by people saying how much they’ve enjoyed having me on board, and as I say my final goodbyes I have more hugs today than I think I’ve had over the previous year of COVID induced separation.

Rhodri the diver gives me hand taking my bags off the ship, and it’s sunny as I walk out of sight of the Pelican. It’s half an hour’s walk to Bristol Temple Meads railway station where I buy a sandwich and wait for my train, looking out on this strange sight of buildings and cars and people.

On the journey to London it rains, but other than that nothing happens. My time of adventure is being replaced by the normality of life inland. At Paddington I walk down the stairs to the underground only to find that the Hammersmith and City line is at the other end of the platforms. When I arrive at Liverpool Street station I have nearly an hour to wait for my final train home to Cambridge. The train from Cambridge arrives early, so I get on and settle down with a book.

But like a James Bond film with a twist at the end, these weeks of adventure are not completely over: 10 minutes after the train was supposed to leave, it’s still in the station. Nobody knows why until a guard / conductor / train person / whatever they’re called these days comes along and asks us to move to the front four carriages. Somehow the external train door release button for our carriage has been damaged and has wires hanging out. This means they have to leave the rear half of the train behind in London, and everybody now has to crowd into half a train. We leave 20 minutes behind schedule.

As we pass Shelford, the train announcer comes on to say that to make up time for the return journey, the train will now be terminating at Cambridge, rather than Cambridge North. This means I’ll have to find another train for the final couple of miles.

SS Great Britain

Before this week I had never heard of the SS Great Britain, but I’m happy that I have now because she’s a splendid ship. We are moored up next door and I can see her masts from my cabin porthole window. She was the world’s first iron hulled propeller driven ship, designed by the legendary Victorian engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel, and was by far the largest ship in the world when launched in 1845. She was built here in Bristol, and undertook many roles before ending her life in the Falkland Islands. In 1970 the hull was returned to Bristol, to the very location she was built, and restored to her original look, with amazing recreations of the interior.

It’s interesting to compare the cabins on SS Great Britain with those on board the Pelican of London: our cabins are better than those in “steerage”, but not as nice as the ones in first class. It’s clear from one of the notices on the walls that some of the passengers in the lowest “steerage” class found the close proximity of other people for many days to be hard work! Thankfully life on board the Pelican has not been like this!

High Up

It’s Thursday morning and I’m going to climb the rigging again. I’ve been gazing up each day and feeling more confident about going up. I’ll be leaving tomorrow so today is my last chance.

I clip on and step up onto the gunwale, then along and on to the rigging. Going up to the first platform is definitely easier than last time. Then I go up to the second platform. It doesn’t actually feel higher than the first platform. I stay there for a few minutes, taking pictures to show I’ve done it. The pictures of the view look ok but I’m never happy with my expression in selfies. One day I might learn how to look natural in photos!

I’m carefully getting my phone out of my carefully zipped trouser pocket for a second time when minor disaster strikes: my hand catches my bank card and it comes out of the pocket and falls. For several seconds I watch it fluttering downwards towards the dock, wondering where it’s going to land.

Fortunately the card misses the water and lands on the ground at the side of the dock. I’m fortunate too that Steph the scientist happens to be standing close by so I call down to confess my littering behaviour and ask her to pick it up. Disaster averted!

Swinging into Bristol

It’s an early start today: 3:30am wake up call for 4am watch. There’s already light in the sky and just after 5am there’s a beautiful red sunrise.

Mid morning on our way up the Bristol Channel the local coastguard helicopter swings by for some tall ship rescue practice: lots of us gather on the deck to watch the now familiar sight of a winch person coming down with a stretcher. (The RNLI have posted news and first person video footage from our real helicopter evacuation here: https://rnli.org/news-and-media/2021/may/26/tall-ship-mayday-for-newhaven-lifeboat)

Bristol is six miles inland, and we collect a pilot to guide the ship up the river Avon. Compared with the Scillys, this pilot actually has real work to do. As we head towards the M5 bridge it really looks like we’re going to be too tall to fit – the masts are about 30m high – but the professionals have done their tide checks properly and we pass safely underneath, albeit with what appears to be only a metre of clearance.

We drop the RIB in the water shortly before reaching the Clifton suspension bridge: it will be needed in place of a bow thruster to guide us into the right places through the locks and into the dock.

Coming into Bristol I’m on the bow as part of the mooring team, ready to haul and make fast mooring lines at first the Howard Lock and then later at the dock. The lock leads into the Cumberland Basin, where we wait for the Plimsoll Swing Bridge and Junction Swing Bridge. Then we travel into Prince’s wharf, seeing many historic ships and buildings.

We moor up in the Albion dock. But before we can go ashore there’s just one little hitch: our gang plank is too short to reach ashore, and the dock can’t find their longer gang plank. After an hour or so they do find it, but our position in the dock is such that they have to use an angle grinder to remove part of the railings.

In the evening several of us go for a drink at the Avon Packet pub, passing Banksy’s “Girl with a Pearl Earring” just outside the dock. It’s a fun evening, then I come back to the ship at closing time and chat over a civilised cup of midnight tea. I eventually go to bed at 1am. After having a few drinks and having being up for 21.5 hours I should probably feel tipsy and exhausted, but I actually feel sober and wide awake: maybe it’s the energy of being on board this exciting journey, and the knowledge that I’ll be home soon.

Good night!

Lundy

Today we get to visit the island of Lundy in the Bristol Channel. We’ve spent a day looking at it, but now we go ashore. The few hundred metres to the shore takes mere minutes, and then we’re on dry land once again. Lundy is the largest island in the Bristol Channel, three miles long by a just over half a mile wide. Most visitors travel on the MS Oldenburg from Ilfracombe. The island gives its name to the area in the UK shipping forecast.

My first stop is St Helen’s Church, which I learn was constructed by the aptly named Reverend Hudson Heaven. His father William Heaven had bought the island of Lundy in 1836, with the money paid to him as compensation for the emancipation of his Jamaican slaves. To the modern mind this seems wrong in so many ways.

I decide to walk to the Northern end of the island: it will be a good leg stretch after yesterday’s enforced day of rest. Along the way are horned cattle, brown sheep, regular sheep, and some very friendly horses who lick my camera bag and nuzzle my neck.

There are no trees, but everywhere the ground is carpeted with small colourful flowers, and ferns that don’t make it above 10cm or so, presumably eaten by the animals rather than trampled by the handful of visitors each year.

At the North end there’s a steep staircase down to the North lighthouse, which is owned and maintained by Trinity House, the official body for maintaining English and Welsh lighthouses and other navigational aids.

On my way back South I encounter the film crew who were filming seals and are now hoping to find some of the island’s famed puffins. We walk along the spectacular cliffs until cameraman Jordan spots some in the distance through his long lens. He and Tom the trainee cameraman head downwards for a closer shot, whilst Ariana decides to film things that are rather closer, and I decide to just have a rest.

After walking the remainder of the island we head back to the Pelican at 5pm, and many people are looking slightly sunburnt, including me. Factor 30 applied three times during the day just wasn’t enough for the full-on sun we’ve had today.

Dolphins

We’re sitting down to lunch when there’s a call on the ship’s announcement system: “You may like to know that there’s a school of dolphins swimming off our starboard bow”. Naturally everyone rushes to the deck to catch a glimpse.

For a couple of minutes there’s great excitement as we watch several dolphins skimming through the water, and then, as quickly as they appeared, they’re off. Perhaps they’ve been reading Douglas Adams.

The remainder of the afternoon is spent sunbathing and relaxing.

Easterlies

It’s Sunday afternoon and we’re leaving the Scillys, heading for Lundy island in the Bristol Channel. This means we’ll initially be travelling East and hoping to take advantage of the prevailing winds. For nearly two weeks when heading South West we’ve had South Westerly winds and had to travel under engine. But today the winds decide to change and blow from the East, meaning we’ll need the engine for this journey as well. Oh well.

It’s a slow journey. With the wind and tide against us we’re not even making 3 knots. A couple of hours later we do get some sails up, we set a course that’s slightly less direct but allows us to make some use of the wind, the tide is no longer against us and our speed increases to 9.8 knots.

We keep travelling into the night, and the overnight watch report that the stars are the best they’ve ever seen, with a clear view of the Milky Way and many shooting stars. Meanwhile I’m tucked up in bed as I’m on galley duty the next day. When I wake at 6:45am it’s pitch black in the cabin: the porthole covers have to be closed while we’re at sea. But as soon as I go up to the mess it’s bright daylight, which is quite a contrast.

Progress overnight has been good, and we anchor off Lundy at 9:30am, ready to go ashore after lunch once various jobs on ship have been completed.

Knot a lot to do

Today is Sunday, and we’ll be leaving our anchorage after lunch (or “weighing anchor” in the correct nautical lingo). The scientists, divers, and cadets are all off the ship this morning, and it’s initially busy getting everyone and their gear to the right places. Then there’s laundry to do, and much sand on the cabin floor to clean up.

Watch leaders Connor and Louisa hold a knots and splicing class for those of us left on board. We learn to tie a bowline, a clove hitch, a round turn and two half hitches, a figure of eight, a sheet bend, a double sheet bend, and more importantly, learn where and why you would use these knots. Every knot has a specific purpose: whether it tightens under tension, whether you can undo it under tension, whether it’s more suited to being undone quickly or is intended for long term use. It’s fascinating how you achieve so many different things with simple turns of the rope. Later in the day I put my new knowledge to use putting up the safety netting along the side of the well deck.

Next up is splicing. We are going to turn some two metre lengths of rope into “gaskets” with a loop at one end that be used for a range of purposes on board. We separate the three strands of the rope, then loop it round and tuck the strands under one by one until the splice is complete. The hardest part is knowing which rope strand to tuck under next, but once the first few are done it becomes easier. After all the tucks are done a hot knife is used to cut and seal the ends. And then it’s done: my spliced rope should be useful on board for many years.

St Agnes

A bit of a photo It’s a busy morning on deck as everyone prepares to head in different directions but the confusion and waiting is soon replaced by the fun of exploring new places.

The island of St Agnes is at the Southern edge of the Scillys group and is most the Southerly inhabited place in the UK. The entire island has fewer houses than my one street in Cambridge, and yet there are four separate settlements of Troy town, Lower Town, Middle Town, and Higher Town. It’s almost like some people playing the board game of Settlers have picked their starting locations and are now competing for resources. The roads on the island are concrete and only a couple of metres wide: it’s a pedestrian oriented place.

The scientists survey several areas of beach here. The broad correlation seems to be that less frequented beaches have higher amounts of plastic and litter as they have fewer organised beach cleans.

We walk to the southern side of the island and I enjoy climbing large rocks. Unlike rigging, they don’t move.

Back at the Pelican the super yacht Farfalla has anchored close by.

In the evening we go to Hugh Town on St Mary’s, have dinner ashore, and then return just after sunset.

Tresco

It’s Friday morning, and we have two full days in the Scillys ahead of us. Many of us take the ferry to the island of Tresco where visit the absolutely stunning Tresco Abbey Gardens. These gardens were established in the early nineteenth century, taking advantage of a frost free climate to grow an incredibly diverse range of plants from around the world. Originally the island was windswept but the planting of trees provided shelter from Atlantic storms to enable plants to thrive. There are plants here from Australia, Chile, South Africa, New Zealand, nestling side by side. There are flowers in every colour and shape, palms, giant ferns, and sculptures. I feel like Charles Darwin exploring a tropical paradise, and spend many hours photographing plants and flowers. Red squirrels were introduced to the island in 2012, and I see a few of them running around, but not close enough to photograph. A few people are fortunate to see a “golden pheasant” with absolutely stunning colouring. I stay at The gardens until they close, then walk to catch the ferry. Happily I also see a couple of golden pheasants, hiding away behind the gardens.

I have dinner on the main Island of St Mary’s, and then while away the evening chatting on the lovely Porthcressa beach.

In the evening I do anchor watch from 10pm till midnight. It’s a cloudy night so we don’t see stars, though there are a few lights on the islands reflected in the water. Without light pollution there is an inky blackness where the sea and the sky are indistinguishable.

Scilly Sailors

I’m up for 6am anchor watch today. The morning light is beautiful. It’s like being on a film set. In fact, it’s exactly like being on a film set as there’s a Game of Thrones prequel series being filmed at St Michael’s Mount.

We leave at 8am: our destination today is the Scilly Isles. The crossing from Penzance is often choppy but we seem to be clear of last week’s gales, and it’s fine weather for us. Today’s music for cleaning hour includes “What shall we do with a drunken sailor?”, but we don’t try any of the suggestions.

The wind is good and for the second time on this voyage we’re able to set the sails: the three we had last time and also one of the square sails. It’s lovely to glide along without the sound of the engine.

When we arrive in the Scillys the sunlit water is noticeably turquoise. Rachel the scientist profiles the water column alongside the Pelican: measuring chlorophyll content, of turbidity (cloudiness) and concentration phycoerythrin (a red photosynthetic pigment common in some algae).

I spend a bit of time reading up on the sailing terms I’ve been learning: I can now explain what all all of these things are:

• Clew
• Clewline
• Sheet
• Leech
• Leechline
• Buntline
• Yard
• Halyard

Tomorrow we’ll start exploring islands, but tonight we stay aboard: lots of people need to catch up on sleep.

Moonrise

The Pelican of London is normally a dry ship but tonight is party night and we have beers and Prosecco on board. Up on deck the drinks and the conversation flow. The late evening sun on St Michael’s Mount is gorgeous.

9:18pm. Sunset.

9:43pm. Moonrise.

The full moon appears on the horizon, just a thin sliver of light at first. As moonrise continues the sliver becomes a beautiful red oval. Over on shore, unbeknownst to us, a photographer is planning a very special shot.

Photo credit: Greg Martin