Disclaimer – this worked for me on these days in these conditions, this is not intended as a how to guide. I consider river sailing a very demanding activity. There are lots of sunken trees near the banks and over hanging trees above. If you catch on of these, you stop but tonnes of water is still trying to push you. Additionally the gusts and change in direction can be violent and instant, some but not all can be seen. Sail area must be set for these gusts and the main not cleated, sheet ready to run clear. You may end up sailing very slowly ninety five percent of the time but it’s better than the alternative. I always try and go with the tide but the times are only a rough guide. The catchment area of the Tamar is vast and despite little rain for a month at the top the river flow has a massive effect. After rain I have been up and only as far up as Calstock watching the river rise but flowing down stream hours into the flood. 

I had planned to take the Gull to the South coast where the rally was Newton Creek and Ryde. The forecast was horribly light, it was a bank holiday weekend and the drive didn’t appeal. So what about the Tamar in the Voyager, it was neaps so noon low tides first day. The wind was still forecast light but I didn’t mind sitting about seeing how it would work out. For reference HW Devon port was 12.07 – 4.5meters

Saturday 

The plan was counter intuitive, I would have to wait until the evening if I wanted help from the flood. I figured I could get just below Saltash that evening and early start next day would get me up river. The voyager is on a floating mooring and I decided to scull the tender out just after lunch and move the boat to a deepwater mooring. I pottered on the boat and at 1500 a nice breeze was developing but it was from the North. I as going against the ebb but I decided to give it a go. I was surprised but made progress against wind and tide. The breeze softened south of the Lynher and I rowed, making ground but it was marginal. Forging on, it was was hard won ground but somehow I got north of Saltash and by the time I got to Cargreen the wind was stiff, the tide still ebbing through the moorings and there wasn’t enough sea room to take a reef. The evening was sublime and finally north of Weir Quay the flood was helping me but the breeze softening. I’ve described this section of river before so won’t repeat. At Cotehele I was loosing light and found a mooring, and was soon cooking dinner very happy and shocked with progress. 

Sunday

With no phone reception I wasn’t able to get a forecast. I could see that there was no wind but oblivious the next few days would break all temperature records for May. I was moving by 0800 and with six hours of flood I had plenty of time to get up to Gunnislake. Through Calstock the tide was running with the slightest of breeze on the bow. I was able to sail, but had no steerage from the rudder so had a lot for fun sail steering up the narrow river and moored boats not to mention the viaduct. Taking it easy the wind died and I reverse rowed as the river became narrower, the tide doing the heavy lifting and I could see the view and hazards. I was up at the weir at Gunnislake early afternoon and tucked in as close to the shade of some trees for lunch.

By 1500 my shade had vanished and I headed a little further down river to an area where I knew and I would stay afloat. After a few goes I managed to get positioned in the shade. I spend a happy couple of hours working on the boat. Fitting Lazy Jacks to the boat which I decided was not going to work and removed. 

Monday 

With low water just before 0800 I thought an early start would allow me to use the river flow and a bit of tide height to get a head start. Coffee brewed, boat ship shape and I was off at 0640. It was sublime, drifting backwards at 0.7 knots, smoking river, the sun not yet above the majestic cliffs. As l rounded the corner, crunch and I’m aground. The riverbed is lovely barefoot friendly pebbles, off I get. She floated easily but grounded as I re boarded. Tow her! A few hundred feet there was what looked suspiciously like a bar. So back on board and wait, a wonderful spot to do so and it would be in the shade for the morning. There looked like there’s a deeper channel but it’s perilously close to the trees. Being stopped I was able to observe that the cliff doesn’t rise out of the river. The bank is man made with a narrow road, such effort must have been of economic importance. So I enjoyed my brew, eyes occasionally checking my key rocks on the shore for the water to rise. The tide times in Devonport are of little consequence up here. 

There is always work to do on a boat so happily the hours drifted by. I took a walk ashore and checked out the bar, we wouldn’t have got across. Then the water rose, it rose quickly and in a blink of the eye the water above the bar was a mirror. At 1140 I set off rowing again, we grounded on the bar but as I got ready to enter the water we floated off. Next time I’ll overnight down stream of the bar. The flood was light but slowly it beat the flow of the river, it became evident how much the tide had been helping me previously. The bank provided entertainment, a fox prowling the tide line for ducks or their eggs. A hen and two drakes returned the hen leading the warning quacks from a safe distance. There was the occasional strong gust, on the nose, and I remembered I was on a sailing boat, but not yet. Upstream from Morwhellham is an island I was determined to get past this. Although the deeper water is on the Devon side this was littered with tree branches yesterday so went Cornish.

After an hour of rowing against the flood I found some shade, I dropped the pick, lunch and a coffee. I had barely travelled two miles from my overnight stop. Two hours before high water the flood was loosing its battle with the rivers flow. I should mention we have had little rain in the past month, this switch would be very variable. So on I pushed retracing my steps. It was a bank holiday and at Morwhellham there was a rib, paddle boards and a canoe. Carrying on more boats including a relatively large Westerly yacht, under motor. 

There now started to be some hints of wind, the direction either on the nose or dead behind. I took advantage with the jib only when I could and rowed when necessary. The wind increased and I was nervous of the confines of Calstock as it could be busy. As I approached a female vocalist and some heavy guitars belted out ‘ Hotel California’, more rock and blues standards followed, but the best was an original. There was a Festival on and revellers were enjoying the music, sunshine and perhaps a half. With a nice breeze on the transom I sped through under job only without issue. 

By Cotehele and the wider river it was time to sail, I wasn’t risking it and so a double reef was put in I raised the main. This is nature of sailing up here, no wind to double reefed gusts in half an hour. The reef was a sound decision, the wind was on the nose and a mixture of nothing and 20 seconds of viscous gusts. The ebb was now in full flow and so I continued, occasionally shaking the reef out only to put it back in. By Weir Quay it was full two reefs again threading through the moorings and mindful of the strong flow. Cargreen was even winder and I looked forward to a blast across the open water north of Saltash. It eased a bit and a quiet sail gave me time to look at the forecast and plan for the night. At about 6.30 I passed through Saltash keeping clear of the handful of yachts racing, cheerful waves from all but the tail end Charlie. 

I had been adjusting my speed to get through Saltash at the tail end of the flood so I could get up the Lynher in slack water. My timings were perfect, full sail from behind I sped past Beggars Island in a breeze that would quickly vanish. Just past Antony point I rowed to an anchorage that would keep me afloat and sheltered from the forecast three knots of wind. 

I hadn’t had phone reception for two days and learned it’s the hottest May Day in over a century. I was exhausted and dinner would be served cold along with a lot of water. This is an equally beautiful, but very different, spot from up river with the advantage of a sunset. 

Tuesday

As I was now getting weather and news I decided the Lynher would have to wait. Yesterday was the hottest day in May since 1922. Today it would be the hottest ever  day in May and there was no wind. I lazily drank coffee and ate porridge contemplating using the outboard for the first time.

Then I felt something, a slight breeze and it would push me home. The ebb was weak and I needed some flood for enough water to reach the mooring. Blow the washing up, mainsail and anchors up. It lasted a few seconds, so on the oars. There would be wind on the Tamar. There wasn’t but the flood was negligible. Slowly I worked myself into the moorings. I was starting to feel the ebb but I could also see ripples on the water. Oars shipped  and a tack out to the middle of the river and then back into the mooring. The wind died, I grounded yards from my mooring and reached it by the time the main was stowed. My arms aching, over heated but fantastically happy I sculled my tender ashore. 

At 20.30, low water I returned to the boat to retrieve a ridiculous mountain of unused gear, treated to a glorious sunset as I settled her down for the night. It had been a truly fabulous three night trip and an opened by eyes to what is possible outside what would be the obvious passage plan