We have changed and we realised that we have changed. Many months ago we were sitting in Falmouth harbour with butterflies doing summersaults in our stomachs. Why was this? We were about to cross our first sea on Ruffian. There was an air of anticipation and our only focus was on the upcoming activities. Leaving Arklow we were about to cross the same sea against the prevailing winds and from a port making the distance significantly larger. Did we have butterflies? No. Could we focus on other things? Yes. Clearly our confidence has grown in our own skills, in Ruffian and in each other. We have grown and grown for the better.

As the first of the revellers in Arklow were going home and dinner parties wrapping up around Arklow harbour we slipped out quietly and sailed downwind in a gentle breeze with a bright moon showing us the way. The waters around the east coast of Ireland are littered with lobster pots, unlit and typically marked with black buoys which are about the size of golf balls. We didn't want to risk picking one up by having the engine on, so sail we did and a perfect start to another sea crossing it was.

As the day wore on so the wind built and we were being given what if often referred to as champagne sailing. The primary difference between what we were given and champagne is that you'd be upset if you where sharing your champagne with 100's, literally 100's, of dolphins. Time and time again, schools would approach the boat and play with us, slapping their tails on the water, jumping at the bow lights, or simply frolicking with each other. A joy to behold.

We entered the second night at sea and all was still great. Happy sailing and a happy boat. In the depth of the night however we passed through a weather front and this bought change. The wind disappeared and was quickly replaced by rain and shocking visibility. This held when we entered and then exited the traffic lanes off Lands End, but as we then turned left at Lands end the weather was to change again.

If Ireland was crying with its rain when we left, England was smiling as she welcomed us with open arms giving us sunshine all the way to from Lands End to Newlyn. As we dropped our anchor in Mounts Bay the sun lit up St Michaels mount giving this place a magical awe. We had arrived back in England.

As if to reiterate that we had safely arrived back on English shores the emergency services were out in full force. Navy rescue helicopters buzzed and we had an entourage of all three local, coastal, inshore and offshore lifeboats, showing us that they are ever ready to welcome us safely back into our 'home waters' before we make the big jump in the next couple of weeks.

After the remoteness of Scotland, with it's clean air, the industrialisation of Ireland east coast with it's commercial ports, we now have a complete contrast in Cornwall. Here we are sitting at anchor and have the smell of fish and chips drifting over the boat from holidaymakers eating their dinners on the seafront. A very English scene.

Just 3 hours before we left Arklow we were treated to a sunset. I really should have been asleep rather than taking photo's.


We had perfect wind and sunshine. Just what we booked.


The first of many massive schools of dolphins.


We thought that come July we'd not be in woolly hats and thermals. How wrong were we.


Did we mention that we had dolphins. As Michael Cane said 'Zulu's. Thousands. Everywhere.'


And on top of thermals we had to done full offshore gear to keep off the rain.


More dolphins. The change in the wildlife was marked compared to March.


We anchored off Newlyn with a view of St Michaels mount.


The maritime rescue services were in full flow with helicopters taking an interest in us.


And the first of many lifeboats to speed past. We have paid our membership. Promise.