This, as the bugler said, is the last post.

Janet joined me in Dartmouth for the weekend and, after a wonderful evening in Taylor's restaurant on Saturday,  we left the Dart on a rather cool and overcast Sunday morning for the last 18 mile leg home.

We were joined by some dolphins in Torbay and then by three boats from the yacht club in Teignmouth, who formed a bit of a parade behind Jojac as she came home into the Teign.

I was absolutely amazed to see some of our friends from the club braving the chilly weather to wave me in to the river. Thankfully the rain stayed well away so although it was nippy it was dry, which was great because they'd organised a beach party and barbie as well.

Thanks to everyone for such a great welcome, and Rob and Karen for organising everything. A wonderful way to come back, and completely unexpected.

Jojac returned to the river at quarter to three after 140 nights away, 2,361 nautical miles and more dolphins than you could shake a stick at.  My final pic is of the boat back home with some bloke just before rowing ashore for the festivities.

I can't end this voyage without saying a big thank you to Janet for supporting me all the way through. She was always there in spirit, but the best bits of the trip were when Janet was able to join me - the Thames, the Scottish canals, and these last two weekends in Cornwall and Devon.

And that only leaves me to say thanks to all of you for watching, you've been a lovely audience, and with due credit to Warner Bros:

I am now in the River Dart, on a mooring buoy up-river at a place called Dittisham, or as they say round here, Ditsum. A nice day today, calm seas with enough wind to make a difference but not enough to mess things up.

This is Start Point, the last of the major headlands on this trip. In today's conditions it was quite benign, but it can be fearsome, as Janet and I have found on occasion. But today was perfect.

And then I was in Dartmouth, passing the castle in this picture:

I came up the river just for tonight and will go back down to the town tomorrow. My buoy is just opposite the landing stage for Agatha Christie's old house.Greenway. There have been a few boatloads of tourists this afternoon, even though it's October.

The Dartmouth to Totnes cruise boat had a few late season trippers on too, making the most of the remarkable weather.

I am sitting on the terrace of the Dolphin Inn at Newton Ferrers, on the River Yealm in Devon. Almost home; about 60 miles to go.

When I left Falmouth yesterday I passed our old boat, Sundowner, moored just off the Royal Cornwall YC. 15 years ago, Janet, Maugan, Emma, Hannah and I sailed Sunny all the way to the Channel Isles just so we could see the eclipse. Hannah was only 8 and slept on the chart table. We nearly sank on the way back; Hannah was huddled on the cabin floor as it was rather rough and wet on deck, and popped her head up to ask if there was supposed to be water above the floor boards. Clearly not. Anyway, it was sorted and all was well, but when we arrived at Dartmouth they all abandoned ship. Such fun! This is Sunny now. You should be impressed by the windows; I fitted them, with my brother's able assistance,  nearly twenty years ago and they have stood the test of time.

 From Falmouth it was a short trip to Fowey, where I moored up just before Daphne du Maurier's old house, Ferryside.

I had dinner in the oldest pub in Fowey,  the Ship, with a group of fellow Fisher owners, some of whom sailed whilst others came by car. A nice welcome back into home waters.

This was Fowey in glorious sun at 8 o'clock this morning:

 My final pic is of the wonderful River Yealm this afternoon - I'm back in Devon after four and a half months!

The weather continues to surprise; this morning,  on the first of October,  I sat up on deck in nothing but swimming trunks for most of the passage from Cornwall. Quite amazing (the weather, not me in swimbos, although that is debatable.  I will spare us all the embarrassment of photos).


Hoping for the Dart tomorrow, probably for a couple of days as I wait for a bit of a storm to go through. A chance to catch up with my mum and then head home Sunday. Fingers crossed.

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.