By Richard Bradshaw

Yuliya and myself aboard Malenkaya at start of cruise

Ever since meeting Margaret Dye at the Southampton Boat Show at the age of ten I have been fascinated with the idea of dinghy cruising. Having read her book about many of her extensive cruises throughout the world I wanted to try it myself. My parents had always dismissed my plans to go dinghy cruising on the grounds that it was not really practical, I would find it too unpleasant and I’d have enough of it after a night or two, etc. After having experienced the difficulties and unpleasantness of dodging the ferries around Portsmouth in Laser 2’s in the winter of 2001/2 (where I’m at university), I decided to buy an old GP14. This would hopefully be a more appropriate boat for winter sailing, and of course suitable for cruising.

As soon as I finished the 2002 summer term I was hunting through the adverts for boats. I ended up buying a slightly neglected boat that needed some work, but which had the potential to be a great boat. As my father, Neil Bradshaw, was involved with the buying process needless to say we got it for a very good price. A month later, after Dad and I spending hours in the garage on it, the boat was in A1 condition and ready for the cruise. I decided to call the boat Malenkaya (Russian for little).

The plan was to have a cruise around a month long in Cornwall and Devon with my girlfriend Yuliya (Russian-hence name of boat!). My only sailing experience of the West Country was as a young teenager aboard my parents’ yacht Sapphire. Therefore I took a lot advice from James Williamson and my father on where and where not to go in a dinghy. I was originally thinking of starting in Exmouth, working my way along to the Plymouth area. The general consensus was that it wouldn’t be wise to sail around Start Point in a heavily laden open boat. I therefore decided to start in Plymouth, where there are extensive inland waters. This would give us a chance to become accustomed to the boat, before heading east later in the cruise. As Yuliya’s previous sailing experience consisted only of a few days here and there, how far we would end up sailing and how long for would depend largely on how much Yuliya enjoyed sailing, and camping, in a 14 foot dinghy.

On Saturday 3^rd August 2002 my parents took us down to Plymouth with Malenkaya behind the car. We launched next to the Mayflower marina, said goodbye to my parents, and then sailed over to the nearby Millbrook Lake where we picked up a small buoy for the night. This was going to be an interesting evening. Whilst I had spent ages planning how everything would stow and fit whilst on dry land in the garage-this was the first time we would try it "for real". We were soon to discover whether the multi-fuel stove I had built into a metal bucket would work safely in the boat, and whether sleeping on the narrow floorboards would be comfortable. Although we did not know what we were in for on that first night, that week turned out to be one of the wettest and windiest Augusts for many years. Whether the ridge tent I designed would keep us dry was going to get the ultimate test! Luckily we very quickly sorted an arrangement that enabled us to safely cook our chicken. Before long the boat dried out on the soft mud and we were relaxing in the cockpit with a bottle of wine. As darkness fell we rolled the tent over the boom, and quickly fell asleep in my new Malenkaya

The following morning we set off in the direction of St. Germans river. This is a beautiful river that branches off to the west of the Hamoaze. After 2 minutes of having the sails up the skies opened, and we were drenched. It was one of those days of torrential rain then sun, but the further we ventured into Cornwall (eg. West of the Hamoaze), the sunnier it got. We tied up to St. Germans quay for the night, situated near the top of the main river. Having freshly painted the boat I was continuously worried about the state of the bottom that the boat was going to dry out on. Throughout the holiday I never liked drying out against walls as there are often small stones from the wall on the bottom ready to score marks in the boat. In the evening we went for a walk and a pint in the pub, before returning to the boat for the night.

We woke up to glorious sunshine although no wind. We motored down river a little, dropped the hook, and spent the morning fishing while we waited for the tide to rise. Later in the day we ventured right to the top of one of the small creeks off St. Germans River called the River Lynher. Near the top we leaned the boat on its ear to enable us to get the mast through the trees. As with many of our creek trips a constant concern was, when we reached the top of the river, whether the tide had started ebbing, leaving us stranded for hours. However, on tasting the water I discovered that we had gone beyond the tidal limit and that we were in fresh water. Therefore the flow was the river current, not the tide.

Over the following few days we gradually sailed up the River Tamar. Unfortunately we experienced a lot of rain, which meant we were stuck in the tent for two days at Calstock Quay (about as far as is navigable on a neap tide in a keel yacht, but deep water for us!). From time to time the rain eased and we chatted with local passers by, all who were very friendly. People were inviting us to their houses (although for various reasons we didn’t go to any in the end), and giving us lifts to places. In the evening we spent as much time as possible in the pub we were moored outside. However, one evening the rain did stop so I managed to persuade Yuliya, who as a newcomer to sailing was probably starting to doubt why she chose sailing in the West Country to a beach holiday in Spain, that we should attempt to go to the very top of the Tamar. We managed to get to the weir, had our evening meal there, but had to quickly leave as I realised that we were about to dry on top of a series of mini rapids caused by the rocky bottom.

After having extensively explored all the major creeks in Plymouth we returned downriver to the Mayflower marina on the 10^th August. We stayed in the marina for the night so as to be able to use the facilities, and to be able to do a big stock up on food. On Sunday 11^th August we finally left Plymouth and set sail to the River Yealm. This was Yuliya’s first ever sea passage in a dinghy, and despite it being a very pleasant fast sail, the swell which had built up by the winds from the previous week made her feel quite sea sick. The navigation for this passage was pretty much done by eyeballing things. Once round the Little Mew Stone a quick bearing on Wembury church confirmed we were safe to head in. I had a few GPS waypoints in my handheld as well, but they were really so I could play with my new toy rather than for any real need. It did prove to be correct to within about 10ft though as we rounded the entrance buoy.

We spent a delightful couple of days around the Yealm walking in the surrounding area, basing ourselves every night on a mooring just off the Newton Ferrers Yacht Club in Newton Creek. Both Yuliya and I have very strong memories of this little creek, which dries completely at low tide, surrounded by beautiful houses, and with a very relaxed atmosphere. Several times a day ducks would spot our blue boat and would come asking Yuliya for more bread. Every morning we would be woken by the sound of the start horn for the junior sailing racing, which took place around us in the creek.

On the 3^rd day we set sail for the River Avon-described in the Pilot Books as a beautiful but rarely visited river in Bigbury Bay. It was blowing about a force 4 on the nose, so although not hard sailing it wasn’t lying back with a beer in the hand sailing either. I was beginning to appreciate that in a dinghy a force 4 in open waters is not like a force 4 in the Solent. Needless to say Yuliya wasn’t that impressed with the sail and was continually checking the GPS ETA. We arrived off the entrance at around 3pm after several hours sailing, only to find a swell on the bar. The pilot book warned of the dangers of the bar, but not being a direct lee shore I had hoped it would be ok. I looked at it for a good 20 mins, desperately wanting to get into this ‘Gem of Bigbury Bay’. Yuliya at this stage, feeling sick, started complaining. I was trying to think. Should we go for Salcombe? Will the famous Salcombe bar be worse? To make matters worse the tide was against us for heading back to the Yealm. I then thought what would I do if we arrived off Salcombe at 6ish with a big swell on the Salcombe bar. It really would be better if we could get over the bar and into the Avon river for the night. I ventured very close to the bar under power, then at the last second decided it was too risky, turned round and went back out to sea. I broke the news to Yuliya that we were heading back to the Yealm. I learnt the hard way that backup plans and preparation are essential to cruising. That evening there was a regatta on in Newton Ferrers, so we moored off the club, I treated Yuliya to a meal in the pub, and went to join in with the festivities.

On the 16^th we woke up at 5am to a beautiful still morning. This was more the sort of sailing Yuliya liked. Gently cruising along the coast at 2 knots under spinnaker I took great joy ringing Dad in his office, supposedly asking for advice on where to find the strongest tides etc., but in truth I knew that he was envious of me as he would also rather be sailing than stuck in an office. By late morning we arrived in Salcombe. My concerns over the bar were little to worry about today, as every floating object in England seemed to be crossing it! Many who could not understand why I was trying to pass port to port.

Slowly sailing across Bigbury Bay

We spent the following few days around Salcombe exploring all the creeks. I felt that this wonderful Salcombe everyone talks about had really been spoilt by the huge number of motorboats. I was also rather disgruntled that the harbour master charged us £3.50 for anchoring Malenkaya (a 14ft dinghy) in the remotest part of Frogmore Creek for the night. Later in the week we met another unnecessarily officious harbour master, so we decided to escape the powerboats and the harbour masters and head up river to Kingsbridge. This town is accessible to bilge keelers or shoal draft boats and is well worth a visit. There is still a holiday atmosphere, but it’s much quieter and cheaper than Salcombe. You can actually boil water in the boat without wash causing spillage. Kingsbridge also had all the facilities we required such as marine engineers to mend our outboard, a laundrette, and an Asda.

After a week in the Salcombe area we were ready to move on. After having to sail at 2 knots all the way to Salcombe as we had very little petrol we decided to stock up for the journey back. I managed to find the most expensive place in Britain I think; £1 a litre from the barge in Salcombe harbour. As it turned out we managed to have a great sail with the wind behind us all the way to the River Yealm. We planned to stop there just for one night on route to Looe (between Plymouth and Fowey), and also to say hello to the ducks again. Unfortunately as we were sailing out of the Yealm the following morning our main halyard snapped. We therefore had to divert course to Plymouth’s Battery marina where we stayed the night.

The Battery marina is more central to the town than the Mayflower, and has far more atmosphere being near the Barbican. It attracts many long distance sailors and liveaboards, all who were keen to discuss their and our adventures. As we arrived we had the most torrential downpour. Thank god we weren’t at sea. We quickly put the tent over us and huddled inside until it passed. My homemade tent was truly tested on the holiday, and despite my concerns it did not leak. I had enquired about getting one professionally made, but as it was going to be a one off design it would have cost around £300. I decided to make my own out of a custom cut canvas tarpaulin, supplied by a truck company I found on the Internet. This formed the back half of the ridge tent, with 2 triangular pieces tied in to form the rear door. The front half was formed using the usual overboom boat cover, which overlapped the tarpaulin. Effectively I had a perfect fitting, double skin, and totally waterproof tent for £80.

After a lot of messing around with messengers in the mast we set off the following day to Looe with our new halyard. This passage seemed to take forever. With the wind continually shifting Yuliya was getting annoyed at me tacking every couple of minutes. We eventually made it and were directed by the ferry men to tie alongside an old fishing boat. Looe is a bustling family tourist town during the summer. Fish and chip shops line the narrow streets, and there is an abundance of shops with names starting with ‘Yee Olde……’. Despite the tourism there is still a very strong fishing fleet in the harbour, as we discovered at 5am in the morning when the gulls woke us as the boats came in.

Two days later, on the 27^th August, we sailed the short 5 miles or so to Polperro. This port is not the easiest one to find being hidden amongst the rocks. There are a number of little villages on the coast that could be mistaken in bad weather as being Polperro. Once spotted a simple transit off the 2 piers safely takes you in through the rocks. Polperro is much more upmarket than Looe. The pubs serve Sea Bass with seasoned potatoes, rather than fried cod and chips. Unfortunately because the harbour is so small there was very limited space for us to stay. There was another visiting yacht in the visitors berth so I crammed the boat between a line of dinghies. Due to the light winds they kept gently banging against us all night resulting in a sleepless night.

Malenkaya in Polperro

The following morning we sailed the short distance to Fowey. After showing Yuliya the small but delightful town we tucked ourselves amongst the trees up Pont Pill creek. In the morning we landed in Polruan and did the classic walk around the headland. Later that day we headed up river past the clay ships, right the way to Lostwithiel at the very top. By this stage it was going dark, and we were doing the usual leaning the boat over to dodge the overhead trees. We tied the boat to a tree in the park beside the river, and went to check out the pubs. I planned to spend the night in the marshes about a half mile downstream of Lostwithiel, but on the way back downriver (in the pitch black as I cleverly picked a night with no moon to go night sailing), I discovered it was a rocky bottom. We therefore carried on down to the first mooring we came to at St. Minnow. The following couple of days were fairly windy and therefore unsuitable for a sea passage, so we did a few walks and tried to kill time in Fowey while it was raining.

By the 1^st September the forecast was fair so we set sail for Falmouth. As we left Fowey I had a feeling that we would be using the motor before long as our speed was around 3 knots. That would have been a more favourable option to what actually happened. As we rounded Gribbin Head and entered St. Austell Bay the wind picked up to a force 5 and we started getting some big steep breaking waves. I decided that rounding Dodman point, one of the headlands that I had been worrying about all holiday, would not be a good idea. Rather than heading back I decided it would be nearer and better to go to either Gorran Haven or Mevagissey, both in the bay. Due to the large sea I couldn’t safely leave Yuliya to helm as she has very limited experience. Therefore I had to juggle the chart, pilot book, hand bearing compass, and tiller to decide our course of action. Unlike in a yacht where you can go down below and plot everything out, accurate navigation in these circumstances is not possible in a dinghy. With Yuliya holding things for me while I tried to make quick bearings, I worked out to 90% certainty in my mind which one of the towns was Mevagissey. A nearby yacht noticed us and thankfully kept near us for a while. As we closed the coast my hastily-taken bearings proved correct and we safely made it to Mevagissey.

We spent a pleasant evening in Mevagissey and left the following morning in much more favourable weather for Falmouth. My concerns over the race at Dodman point proved unnecessary. After speaking to a local in Mevagissey it became clear that if you are in the right place at the right time Dodman is no problem at all. We went very close round the point on slack tide as advised and it was like sailing through a swimming pool. Yuliya, as on most sea passages, slept most of the way. Therefore that left me helming on a broad reach for about 4 hours all by myself. Both Yuliya and I felt great satisfaction as we rounded Zone point. We had made it to Falmouth. This was as far as I had realistically thought we might get before we started the cruise. After the bad start with poor weather and Yuliya hating sea passages I had actually lost hope in reaching Falmouth-so I was now very content.

Falmouth seemed to be a self contained sailing centre in itself. Like the Solent, you can have a boat there and never need to leave the area as there are so many places to visit. As we sailed into Carrick Road there were old Falmouth gaffers racing, small yachts day sailing, dinghies drifting around, and people fishing. After the miles of empty coastline, with little Malenkaya feeling very small, we had a real feeling of arriving somewhere new. We turned starboard into the Percuil River, passed St. Mawes, and dropped the anchor in a beautiful spot very near the top of the river.

Having not been to any large towns for a while we spent the following night in the Falmouth Yacht Haven. Here we could have showers and get stocked up on food. Despite having the best pasties we’d ever tried we both agreed that Falmouth town was similar to most others, so we set off up river on the 4^th September. We spent the week exploring all the creeks of Falmouth. The route up to Truro was nothing special, in fact ferry boats run up there every hour from Falmouth. However, Ruan creek was a real getaway. Inaccessible to yachts, after a few miles it opens out into a fantastic bird sanctuary surrounded by beautiful countryside. We found a great spot for the night right at the top amongst the marshes. During the week we experienced further high winds which were preventing us from sailing, so we tended to motor from creek to creek.

It was clear that winter was coming fast. The nights were drawing in, and the weather was less and less settled. Dad had been asking for nearly 3 weeks when we were coming home and I’d keep saying ‘not yet’. My parents were soon to be going away on a holiday for a week. As they were picking us up we were either going to need to be collected the following weekend, or we’d be stuck there for another 2 weeks. We therefore made our way towards Mylor creek to be picked up on Sunday 8^th. As we dismantled the boat at Mylor we found all sorts of mouldy items that had been tucked away for 5 weeks. Needless to say both Yuliya and I were very upset to finish the cruise. Malenkaya had become our home, and the positioning of bags in the boat had become like the positioning of furniture in a house. Although hygiene levels had remained fairly respectable in comparison to some cycling trips I’ve been on, we were completely oblivious to the fact that we stank.

I learnt on the holiday that preparation is essential. The boat had been very carefully thought out, and had been modified to suit my exact requirements. Although I knew the basics of navigation from sailing on my parents’ yacht, this is nothing like being your own skipper on a cruise. Particularly on a dinghy, navigational preparation is of crucial importance. There were a couple of times when circumstances forced me to chance my plan. Having pre-prepared backup plans would have made life a lot easier, and safer. For dinghy cruising a GPS was a very useful navigation tool. I know many people despise reliance upon them, but used wisely and in conjunction with conventional methods, a pre-programmed waypoint for Mevagissy would have been a much safer option than a semi guessed bearing taken when bouncing around St. Austell Bay in a force 5.

Being in an open boat we were continually talking to people. In many ports owners of large yachts told us how envious they were of us being able to sail like we do. We proved that you can have a proper cruise in a small dinghy on a very limited budget. Dinghies do have their limitations in that the sailing season is short, and when you have bad weather life under a tent is a bit dull. But we were not roughing it cruising during the summer any more than camping in a conventional tent is roughing it. You may not be able to do long sea passages, but you can go to all sorts of places you can never take a yacht to. An anchorage with no other boats in sight, surrounded by picturesque surroundings is very common. Being in a dinghy puts you in close contact with the nature. You hear birds paddling round the boat, fish turning with the sunrise, and water gently tapping the boat.

Now the winter is here Malenkaya is slowly stagnating in a dinghy park in Portsmouth. Although still being sailed weekly, Yuliya and I have realised that our plans to go on winter weekend cruises in her aren’t really practical. We now have the dinghy cruising bug though. Hopefully next Easter we’ll cruise the shallow parts of the Solent, then come summer in true trailer sailor fashion we’ll take her somewhere else on the trailer.

Equipment we took

Boat Tent

Emergency dome tent (never used)

Outboard motor (3.5hp Tohatsu)

Anchor (5kg Bruce) + 30m warp

4 fenders

Various mooring lines (some very short, one very long)

2 roll mats

2 sleeping bags

2 clothes dry bags (including 2 spare changes of clothes)

Petrol (5lt) + oil for 2 stroke

Water carriers x2 (10lt each, solid construction)

2 buckets (one for anchor, one for toilet)

Fishing tackle and rods

Walking boots (would have been more useful to have wellies instead)

Day rucksack

Cooking utensils + washing bowl

Stove (MSR multi-fuel, we ran it on petrol, though 2 stroke blocked it)

Cool box (25lt)

GPS (Garmin eTrek)

Compass

Hand bearing compass

Charts

Pilot book (West Country Cruising, M Fishwick)

Tide tables

OS maps (useful for sailing up small creeks not on chart as well as walking)

Stationary

2 torches (we had major problems with power)

Flares

Wet weather clothing (simple light weight walking gear)

Games

Travel radio (useful for forecasts)

Mobile phone + charger (can charge in Yacht Clubs, marinas)

Quick dry towels + wash bag

Camera

Spare halyards + chandlery

Tools (used many times for small jobs)

(This list is not exhaustive but includes most of the essentials)