Jojac is now in Falmouth, after a pretty windless and flat-sea passage this morning. Last night was rather hectic in Newlyn, which remains one of the busiest fishing ports in the UK. It was very quiet on Saturday night but as it started to get dark yesterday all the boats and ships came to life, tankers came down the jetties with fuel, and - whoosh - they were off for another week's fishing. Here's a photo of a couple of the larger trawlers getting ready for the off:

And here's one taken as the sun rose as Jojac crossed Mount's Bay this morning, with a couple of fishing vessels underneath the sun:

As you can see, the sea was benign. Here in Falmouth it is not only calm but hot beyond expectations: 27 degrees. I apologise for the selfie below but could think of no other way to make you believe it really is as hot as I say. I was forced by the heat to change into shorts and tee-shirt.

Mind you, the clouds built up and looked a bit menacing, but have since dispersed.

Finally, my neighbour here is German and the boat really has come from Berlin, but has taken two years to get here via the Gambia, Capr Verde Islands and most recently the Azores. It puts my paltry little 2,300 miles into perspective, particularly when you learn that he and his Scottish wife are educating their 7 and 10 year olds along the way!

Off to Fowey tomorrow - a mere 20-something miles. A nice day trip, and an impromptu Fisher rally.

Janet came to join me in Padstow on  Friday night, arriving by the entertainingly-named Western Greyhound bus. I had visions of a continent-crossing long-distance service, but someone in marketing has clearly had bigger ideas than the budget would stretch to. The so-called greyhound is more of an elderly terrier/basset hound cross:

Anyway, we had a lovely evening and excellent meal in the Harbour Inn. Strong recommendation. Excellent chips and even more excellent value.

We left at first light for the 63 miles round Land's End and arrived in Newlyn after 11 hours at sea. Most of the time on the north coast we had 2 to 3 metres of swell. I think I have used this analogy before for the non-sailors amongst you: imagine your living-room going up and down to first-floor level every ten seconds, and twisting and rolling at the same time, and you get a feel for what it is like. Once round Land's End though the swell diminished quite quickly and the last ten miles were most pleasant in the late evening sun.

This is the Longships Lighthouse with the Land's End visitor centre in the background - the lighthouse was a mile away, Land's End itself about two.

The latest development in buoyage is seen here in the Runnell Stone marker just south of Land's End. It has an almost human form - perhaps a LadyBuoy?

Entering Mount's Bay, in which Newlyn sits, we were again fortunate to be met by the locals, this time porpoises I think.

On the other side of Mount's Bay is St Michael's Mount.

Newlyn is a very busy fishing harbour that had a few yacht berths, but is easy to enter at all states of the tide. It has a good Italian restaurant and, this weekend at least, plenty of sunshine. Perhaps Janet brings it with her? Seen here at 11 am.

The harbour office here has been built to resist flooding by high tides:

Penzance is just a mile or so away from Newlyn and has a main line station, so Janet could get home in the comparative luxury of the Paddington train.

I wandered round Penzance for a while, coming across an excellent live band in a pub and then this building across the road. The Egyptian House was built in 1836 to house a mineralogical museum and shop, and is now available for holiday lets. There is a similar, but less ornate, building in Exeter which shares the same deliberate parallax distortion of the verticals - look carefully and you'll see all the lines are closer together at the top.

I'm off at dawn tomorrow in the direction of Falmouth and then Fowey, with a plan to get back into Devon waters at Plymouth on Wednesday. After that it will be Dartmouth and then home to Teignmouth, possibly by this time next week if the weather holds. Watch this space ....

Here we are in glorious Kernow, or Cornwall for those unfamiliar with the Celtic tradition. Arrived last night at Padstow in blinding sunset - so blinding that I couldn't see ahead nor the instruments or charts. Given the relative narrowness of the channel this might have been a disaster but timing is everything and  I had planned to arrive at the top of the tide so the sandbanks were less of a threat. At low tide today it was a bit more evident whee the channel lay:

On the way across from Wales (which was over 80 miles, so further than crossing to France) I was waved off by some Welsh dolphins, met in the middle by some more, and welcomed to Cornwall by this chap and his pals:

Padstow was lovely in the last of the evening sun.

Wandering about today I found a handful of Rick Stein restaurants (Padstow is known locally as Padstein) of which this is but one. £38.50 each for the set lunch (plus drinks) and it was heaving.

I also came across the railway station, which, unlike the one at Aberystwyth, did not survive the Beeching cuts. Where there were once trains there is now a car park; sad, bit not an uncommon sight in my trip round the UK.

But there is hope! Did you know that the National Lobster hatchery is here, right here, in Padstow? (Interestingly, Microsoft's spell checker does not recognise Padstow (being American and all) and suggests "toadstool" may have been what I meant to type. Yanks ae? Dontcha just luvvem?.) Anyway, they were queuing up to get in (people, not lobsters). I may be wildly wrong but I can't help feeling Mr Stein must be connected in some way to ensure a constant supply for his many tables.

Finally, a picture of Jojac against the quay in this afternoon's late sun. It has been rather nice here so far but I worry that the second-homers are taking over. Most of the shops are now Fat Face, Weird Fish, White Stuff, etc. although there are still two small convenience stores within a hundred yards of the harbour (yes, thank you Microsoft, it does have a "u" in it), unlike Salcombe (which doesn't have a "u" in it of course) where the trendy shops have completely replaced the essentials.

Yesterday I hit 2,000 miles and I see from the instruments that I am now only 16 miles short of 2,100. I went from Aberystwyth to Fishguard, where there is a big ferry to Ireland and a small drying harbour for yachts. I anchored out  in deeper water so I could get away early this morning, so didn't get chance to go and see the old port which is reputed to be lovely. But you really need to be able to stop for 24 hours to dry out against the wall and enjoy the pub. I was only resting for the night.

The coastline is very similar to Devon; quite soft fields behind some stark cliffs. Made me think of home.

This is the approach to the old harbour:

Today I came another 50 miles (almost) and am in Milford Haven. Famous for its oil tankers, it is nevertheless a lovely natural harbour with lots of places to anchor or moor - I could spend a week here. I stopped off at a place called Dale, just inside the entrance to the haven, then when the tide was right came up to Milford Docks for fuel. I shall stay here until tomorrow for a nice queit night, and leave on the tide at around 0500, heading to Cornwall.

This is entering Milford Dock:

Whilst this is the view from the bar, where it was still hot at 1800:

There's yet another big ferry to Ireland from Pembroke Dock, just over the water. I hadn't realised there were so many ferry routes to the Emerald Isle.

I need to be up at 0330 tomorrow for the next part of my voyage so am off to bed even though it's still daylight.

Some photos of Aberystwyth today. The town is till quite elegant; it has a universoty of 9,000 students and a resident population of 13,000, so that is a lot of income. This is the old university building,which is still in use although the main site is a little further out.

The sea front beyond the universty is a mix: an elegant prom:

And a bit of a tatty pier:

Which is probably one of the shortest in the world - more of a stump than a pier.

And a Pier Hotel which is no more. Cool trainers though (not for me though).

The town had a magnificent station but is now reduced to one working track, whilst the very elegant station buildings have been converted to a Wetherspoons.

The museum is housed in a lovely old theatre:

Although not everyone was that fussed:

On which note, I am off to my bunk as I need to catch the tide early tomorrow.

Made it to Aberystwyth, just a 37 mile hop from Pwllheli. A trip in three parts; one third very pleasant, one third OK, and one third absolutely horrid. It wasn't that there was a lot of wind, the most it got to was a force 5 and then only for moments; most of the time it was round the top of a 4. But the sea! In the middle of Cardigan Bay it was foul. Not particularly big waves, a metre or so, but very sharp and steep-too, and not a boat length apart. It lasted for just over 2 of my 6 hours. Quite often such things are caused by tide but these weren't. Anyway, that's over with for now. The forecast tomorrow is not good so I am going to stay here and have a look round before I head off on Sunday.

For those who want to see where I am on Google Maps or Earth, the coordinates are 52.4093364,-4.0877578.

This is Aberystwyth from sea - it has both a pier and a university. I shall explore further tomorrow. A friend of mine thinks he may have left a tan k-top at the Pier Hotel in the 70's, so I shall go and see.

Aberystwyth also has a castle, and has been the subject of many battles. It is through this that I believe it got its name. Imagine the scene: a victorious swordsman stands over the bodies of the hundreds he has slain, and is asked by an awe-struck youth, "'Ow d'ya do that then mate?" to which our swordsman must have replied, brandishing his sword just inches from the boy's face, and demonstrating an uncanny deftness of hand, "'Ave a swift wrist". And there you go.

I am in Pwllheli this morning, about to set off for Aberystwth. Yesterday's trip was very relaxed although my anxiety about the engine never left me until I had tied up. It was breezy up at Holyhead and I was sailing at over 6 knots, but within an hour the wind died off until there was none at all - so it was engine all the way. This pic shows how calm it was. The splash in the distance was a big dolphin, one of a pair, that were leaping about. They were gone too quickly to get a proper photo.

Coming across Cardigan Bay the warmth was good but the visibility was wooly. Perhaps that's why the two dolphins were jumpers? I later saw three porpoises who were much more relaxed, just their fins showing. Lots of jellyfish in the sea too, but different from those up in Scotland and Northern Ireland, which were flatter and browner. Not a very technical description.

I took a stroll round Pwllheli where I was pleased to see the great seaside tradition continues:

And finally, a lovely sunset across the harbour:

Here's a view of the bay in Holyhead on an absolutely amazing day. I plan to leave here tomorrow now that everything is (hopefully) fixed. I'm waiting for daylight as I'm not going to do another night passage until my confidence in the engine (and perhpas myself?) is restored.

And is this a relic of a long-lost film-making heritage here on Holy Island?

The approach to the town itself provides visitors with an enticing taste of the retail experience to come:

I had a good time on the Isle of Man and tracked down a long lost cousin, then stayed on to do the tourist stuff. I took the lovely little train up to the summit of Snaefell, where it was very misty so there was no view at all.

 On the sea front at Douglas I met a horse called Charles, who didn't say much and couldn't make eye contact on account of the blinkers he is made to wear. He pulls a tram and the blinkers mean he is not distracted.

Peel Harbour was very pleasant and picturesque.

My immediate neighbours were a bit chavtastic. Your eyes do not deceive you - that really is a domestic TV satellite dish strapped to the rail at the stern. Goes well with the subtle lighting effects.

I left Peel on Friday in the middle of the day once the tide was high enough for the harbour gate to open. I was thinking of going to the south of the island to anchor overnight but there was a big swell running from the east and my proposed anchorages were a bit open to it, so as the weather was good I decided to crack on to Wales.

I was approaching the Welsh coast when the engine overheated. I managed to sort it but half an hour later it did it again.

Now I was in a fast tide off Holyhead, in a shipping separation zone, at midnight, pitch dark, and not even enough wind to out-sail the tide. Prudence required that I call the coastguard and just let them know what was going on, and they took matters out of my hands. They weren't having a drifting boat in their shipping lanes, so they called up the lifeboat to escort me. Well, I was making 2 knots and the lifeboat wasn't happy with that - they wanted me out of the way more quickly, which I can understand. So they took me in tow. Unfortunately the tow revealed a bit of a problem on the foredeck, and there was quite a bit of damage. Here's the lifeboat - big beast.

Saturday was spent getting some stuff to make a fix to get me back home, and Sunday in making the repairs to the deck. One of the lifeboat engineers has looked at the engine and fixed a tiny fault on the water pump, which may have been the cause of the problem.  It was the only thing he could find. Engine seems fine, but I will only know for sure when I have done a few hours on it.

Here's the damage and the repair.

 The mooring bollard and anchor winch both ripped out. The bolts below are a centimetre thick!

  The pulpit took the weight but is now bent. Thankfully it did not pull out, otherwise the forestay and sail furler might have been damaged.

By Sunday afternoon it was all looking a bit better.

In the winter I will have it all apart again for a permanent fix, but this will get me home. The bollard is fixed through a relatively undamaged bit of the deck and there's another plate of ply on the underside, and the bolts go through the lot. It will be fine for mooring ropes but I'm not sure I'd risk it on the anchor in any sort of blow.