Padstow to Milford Haven (Dale)

We awoke to another sun drenched day with the fog nowhere to be seen. Our passage to Dale would be another long one at 11 hours but we wouldn’t be setting off until the tidal streams were favourable at 1100. So we decided to attempt the steep, overgrown path up the cliffs of the next cove at high water. The ‘path’ up the rocks and a ravine up to the South West Coastal Path at the top was more overgrown than anticipated. We gingerly tried to avoid the nettles, brambles and break through the barrier of cow parsley in our shorts and t-shirts and I was sweating profusely by the time we reached the top. Relived we had made it we both started breaking out in large weals across our arms and legs.

We had an hours’ walk along the coast path, enjoying the views down into the various coves that dot the coast. After initially thinking it was nettle stings the weals got larger and became painfully itchy which we assume were caused by the cow parsley. 

We descended back to the cliff and met a fellow sailor on the small beach below who was about to make the same ascent. Warnings issued we headed back to the boat for antihistamine and lotion to ease the itching covering our limbs.

The passage north to Wales was blessed with glorious sunshine, although no wind, the whole way and we spent much of the trip reading and sunbathing on deck. The only distraction along the way as a pod of dolphins which escorted us for hours darting to and fro around Sulaire’s bow - dashing off to chase a shoal of fish before returning to their sentinel duties.

As we approached Milford Haven there was a crackle over the VHF “Sulaire, Sulaire, Sulaire…this is Castlemartin Range Control”..bugger, I had dismissed the range being operational at this time of night. We were requested to divert west and duly did so for 5nm before heading north into Dale as the sun set. We would have been within our rights to refuse to alter course but it would only add another 20 minutes to our passage and range control were friendly with their request so we complied.

A quick stroll ashore in the dimming light, and a Bea poo or two lighter, we headed back to Sulaire to turn in for the night with the ‘boom…boom’ barrage of the Castlemartin firing range reverberating around the bay…night…night.