With a single reef in the mainsail and the No.1 jib, (a former mainsail cut to size), Blue Mistress sails beautifully.  

There was a grey cloudy sky yesterday afternoon, with rain to come. The forecast said the wind would lessen as the afternoon wore on. But Charles and Annette were on holiday and wanted to sail and Peggy said she’s come too – (none of them wanting to sail more than I), so we went. 

We put our nose out round the Breakwater into the teeth of a long swell and decided that, with the wind lessening, it would be more fun to sail inside the Breakwater.  And it was when we had tacked and eased the sheets slightly into a close reach across relatively calm waters that the boat came alive. It’s difficult to describe but there was a moment when the rhythm of the boat stepped up a notch. It was the sort of unlooked-for feeling you get ‘in your bones’. Maybe it was the movement through the water as we picked up speed, maybe the various sounds changing, maybe it was the set of the sails or the feel of the wind on my cheek, but I found myself knowing precisely why I am pleased with Blue Mistress and why the wait for the work on her to be completed has been worth it. 

As we headed towards the bridge between Drake’s Island and the Mount Edgcumbe estate to enter the Tamar, a fleet of Lasers swept down on us. A few minutes before they had been a mile away over towards Cawsand, now the leaders were on us and there was that tricky moment of how to avoid them. They seemed to be everywhere – enthusiastic youngsters seriously racing.   

Once on the Tamar, with a light drizzle and the wind dropping, it was time to shake out the reef – and the genoa might have helped but the wind was dropping fast and it fell altogether as we came level with Millbrook Lake. 

So a chance to recharge the batteries and enjoy a gentle motor up river past the naval dockyards before returning to the Plym.  

The drizzle stopped as we were directed inshore towards the Mayflower Marina to avoid another warship plus its attendant tug, police boat and various ribs.  

It’s only the second season I have sailed in Plymouth and I am still ‘green behind the ears’, so maybe I am a little naïve, but, as my Dad used to point out, when you’re on the water, there’s always something happening and always something to see. Don’t miss it. It’s particularly true here.

One of the problems last year was the hatches in the stern. Firstly, they leaked, and, secondly, the tiller got in the way when opening them. So the new design had to solve both those problems and still leave two lockers with openings large enough to take, for instance, a spare fuel can, meths etc that we don’t want to store below, plus immediately accessible warps, fenders, a fishing line and so on. It also needed to be lockable. This is the result. They lock from the inside – (answers on a postcard, please!).    

Also, the false cockpit floor had taken a battering with large crew members for ever stepping heavily onto it. By putting in floorboards – (two for ease of removal), the load has been spread. Also, the slight problem we have with the small amount of water coming back through the cockpit drain has been reduced (not yet solved) by the extra height of the boards. And, finally, it looks good. 

The third improvement, apart from the new halyard winches, is the option to put a polystyrene weatherboard in the companionway. It gives a clear view through to the cockpit from the cabin. When not in use, it stows in a smart Velcro-ed foam pocket to prevent scratching. I opted for the double weather board because I found the single one that was there previously difficult to stow when not in use. With the new lower one installed, I can still get in and out of the hatchway without having to remove it – (just!). There is another upper board that locks in place.

We finally went to sea on Saturday afternoon – Pete and I. A run to stretch the sails and check the rigging.  

I had planned to go on Friday but the weather dictates – and this year it is dictating more than average. It seemed that most of the boats in Plymouth were taking advantage of the sunny day. 

The deck proved good to work on. The Folksong deck is uncluttered anyway, but painting it this colour with an uninterrupted non-slip surface makes it seem large. 

Also, placing the grab-rails around the edge of the coach roof has kept the coachroof free to walk on. They make good toerails when sitting full on the deck, and are not too high to sit inboard with feet on the toerails proper.

The wind was dropping as the afternoon wore on. It was really a genoa wind but I wanted to try out the No.2 jib. This is a heavier sail and cut differently from the others. It also stretches the full height of the forestay, whereas the luffs of the other sails are shorter and their tacks can be raised with a strop to make visibility easier.

Blue Mistress handled well but it kept her speed down and I felt a hint – (just a hint), of a need to compete when we joined the line of yachts returning in the early evening. We had sailed gently along the outside of the breakwater towards them, gybing round the lighthouse on its western end, just as a Contessa 26, a boat I remember admiring last year, powered by with spinnaker set. 

We have a lot more to do before we can look in that direction.