Travel A Jaunt to the South West of By John Roberson

here is a corner of England where style, elegance and panache are still alive and well. It was worth the journey almost to the south western tip of the country to enjoy an evening Tin a special hotel, and a day on a beautiful boat. We fi rst saw the Duchy 27 during construction, then braved storm and tempest on a particularly wet July day, to celebrate the unveiling of the fi nished boat by the Princess Royal. However we had to wait until late September before everyone’s busy schedules allowed us the opportunity to head back to to play with what the builder, Cockwells, describes as “a gentleman’s launch”. This delay was fortuitous. Do you remember the “heat wave” that ushered September into October? It was just at the start of this weather phenomenon that Jo Cockwell, wife of boat builder Dave, phoned to say that all the pieces were in place for an outing on the Duchy 27. The Canadian owner was in town, the boat was back on its home mooring in after the Southampton Boat Show, and Dave was available too. A check of the weather forecast, and yes, this un- seasonal sunshine and warmth was due to continue, “we’ll be down on Friday”, I told Jo on Wednesday afternoon. To get a full day of playing with the Duchy, suitably called “Duchess”, we would really need to be in St Mawes for Thursday night.

Excellent About fi fteen years ago I had enjoyed an excellent Petrol at 2/3d per gallon, but it was sold cream tea on the terrace of Hotel Tresanton, and was out, and only 264 ¼ miles from London impressed, making a note in the mental fi ling system that I had to go back there, and preferably to stay overnight. A phone call to this fabled hotel and the delightful Federica Bertolini, general manager, said she could accommodate us. The anticipation started to build. On the long boring drive down the A303, it was suffi ciently warm to need to turn on the aircon in the car, a very rare occurrence, but having turned off the A390 onto the A3078 we felt as if we were really Best room in the house, with in Cornwall, an A road where there is barely room its terrace over the dining for converging cars to pass each other. Yes, this was room roof giving a 180 Cornwall. degree view As I tooted the horn approaching blind corners I couldn’t help but smile, as for some illogical reason

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the image of Toad from Wind in the Willows fl ashed through my mind, poop-poop! Well I didn’t run any horse-drawn caravans off the road, and arrived in St Mawes as the late afternoon sun created a silver swathe across , a few boats were anchored just inside St Anthony’s head and a loan gaffer wandered Duchess at speed home in a breeze that barely ruffl ed the calm waters of the harbour. Hotel Tresanton is perched no more than a narrow road’s width back from the cliff, about half way between the town centre and , and is a carefully blended mix of Cornish cottages and Italian style. It is not hard to draw comparisons between St Mawes and the likes of Porto Fino, with houses clinging to steep hillsides, each demanding their share of the fabulous sea view. We found ourselves in what was probably the best room in the house, with its terrace over the dining room roof giving a 180 degree view, taking in St Mawes harbour to the left, ahead St. Anthony’s light, and if the world was fl at you would be able to see France; to the right, somewhere in the haze of late summer light the mouth of the , then lastly the silhouette of , guarding the western side of the entrance to Falmouth Harbour. On the desk in our room, a note on expensive hotel notepaper, from the owners of Duchess, Arthur and Barbara English, suggesting we meet for pre-diner drinks in St Mawes Sailing Club, an offer too good to refuse. We strolled into the village with time to do a quick circuit of the waterfront before meeting our hosts for the next day. There was no mistaking the Duchess, sitting on a mooring about a hundred yards off the quay, looking defi nitely gentlemanly, swinging idly at her mooring. Can one describe a Duchess as gentlemanly? Well she’s certainly a lady well suited to a gentleman. There was already a buzz along the waterfront about an impending party the following evening. “The owner of that boat,” said our informant, pointing at Duchess, “is having a few drinks and bringing her right alongside here.” The Duchess was making her mark in St Mawes already. Arthur told us later, “I’m just opening a few

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bottles of champagne, while satisfying people’s curiosity – I’m not open doors, and a fi re burning in the big open grate to take the funding their drinking habits” chill off the autumn evening air. A gin and tonic in hand helped With a few minutes to spare before our appointment in the bar choose from the pleasantly uncomplicated menu. of the sailing club, we checked out the local real estate prices – The excellent dinner was somehow enhanced by the knowledge expensive, and looked at what the local pubs and eateries were that but for the darkness we would have been enjoying a offering. We also found a Shell pump offering petrol at 2/3d per spectacular view. Instead there was the loom of the St. Anthony’s gallon, but it was sold out, and we learnt that we were 264 ¼ lighthouse, accompanied by the eerie moan of the fog horn, as the miles from London. mist closed in. After dinner we discovered the intimate bar, and a The St Mawes Sailing Club has humble premises above a shop, particularly subtle Armagnac. opposite the Town Quay, though is reputedly one of the wealthiest Talking to Federica, we learnt a little of Tresanton’s history, sailing clubs on the south coast, and judging by the local house which started in the late 1940s, created by yachtsman Jack Silley prices I can believe it. Recent renovations to the club, including as somewhere for his sailing friends to stay, and originally a club the installation of a picture window giving panoramic view of the – the Club in Roseland – a facility that still exists to allow non- harbour, would seem to verify the fi nancial status. residents to drink. It has had several owners since then, but is now in the hands of Olga Polizzi, who masterminded a major redesign Friendly in the late nineties. Arthur English is a friendly bearded Canadian, with a big grin It is also suitable that a hotel that was started by a yachtsman and a twinkle in his eye, a man whom, it soon became obvious should have its own yacht. Pinuccia is a 1939 built 8 Metre, is passionate about boats, and has fallen in love with St Mawes. originating from Italy, and with a colourful history. She is His other home is in Toronto, where he is a member of the Royal Canadian Yacht Club, of which he is a former commodore – another wealthy yacht club, but on a slightly different scale from St Mawes SC. Arthur and his delightful wife Barbara, divide their time between their two homes, and their cruising yacht. Over a couple of pints of Betty Stogs, “Queen of Cornish Ales”, we discovered a host of mutual friends from the world of sailing, and I refreshed good memories of sailing the International 14 World Championships at the Royal Canadian Yacht Club back in 1977. By the time we wandered back up the road to the Hotel Tresanton for dinner, I knew we were going to have a great time the next day. The drawing room at the hotel features big comfortable couches, a view across the terrace to the harbour through the

Owner Arthur and his wife Barbara, passionate about boating.

A loan gaffer wandered home in a breeze that barely ruf- fl ed the calm waters of the harbour

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CYAutumn2011.indd 50 25/10/2011 19:13 From time to time the sun would fi nd a thinner patch, and cast a silver shaft that gave the sea a mercurial look

Hotel Tresanton is perched no more than a narrow road’s width back from the cliff

immaculately maintained by Cockwells, and is available ’s creeks and backwaters, or blazing a 25 knot with her skipper for daytime and evening charters. She is trail across Carrick Roads – everywhere catching the eye a story in herself, and perhaps we’ll go back to St Mawes and turning heads. sometime to do her justice. We headed out of St Mawes with mist still shrouding Next morning after breakfast it was back down to the surrounding headlands, and casting a veil over the the Town Quay to meet Duchess, who was already shipping anchored in the bay and putting the western alongside on the high tide. Arthur was every bit the shore out of view, but from time to time the sun would proud owner, eager to show off his bit of boating fi nd a thinner patch, and cast a silver shaft that gave aristocracy, and we learn that he has a history with such the sea a mercurial look. Across the Fal and up Mylor boating connections. His previous boat had been called Creek to Mylor Bridge where Tresanton’s Pinuccia had Blue Dolphin, and had originally been built in Falmouth just been lifted from the water at Cockwells for her and served as the ’s offi cial launch in winter dose of TLC. Here we picked up Dave Cockwell, the . a man as proud of his creation as the owner was of his possession. Spell We just escaped the creek before the ebbing tide We immediately fall under the spell of this Duchess, in embarrassed us, and mentally doffed our caps as we much the same way as much of the world has fallen for passed that shrine of British sailing, Restronguet Sailing another new Duchess, but I think this is probably where Club, the place that nurtured a young, Optimist-sailing comparisons should end. That other Duchess probably Ben Ainslie. wouldn’t thank us for referring to her as spacious, and The plan was to go to Helford River for lunch in the having good upholstery! pub, but as Dave pointed out Duchess would get there I will however stretch the royal analogies a little in 18 minutes at full throttle, and it was only just gone further to say that Rudyard Kipling’s “If” came to mind 10 o’clock, perhaps a little early for that fi rst pint. So we with this boat, turned up the Fal River and set off to admire some of the “If you can talk with crowds and your virtue, properties, ancient and modern that line her banks and ‘ Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,” over look her winding ways. She is indeed a boat that would be admired anywhere, Probably the most magnifi cent of these is I can see her mixing with the glamour of St Tropez, House, with its colonades, and pastures stretching down or burbling gently along some of England’s inland to the water’s edge. Along the foreshore at Feock, every waterways, and yet she was equally at home cruising the house seemed to have its own slipway, many with a cyautumn 2011 51

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substantial boathouse at the top. Anyway, after a slow tootle up the Fal to Malpas and back, it was time to give Duchess full throttle, she lifted her skirts and sped off across Carrick Roads towards the Helford. This river is the place of legends, the setting for Daphne du Maurier’s Frenchman’s Creek, and other novels. Having picked up a visitor’s mooring we radioed the ferry to take us ashore. Unfortunately the ferryman declined to collect us! If I was the owner of the pub I’d be pretty upset about the loss of custom, but their loss was the gain of Castaways, the waterside wine bar and seafood restaurant in Mylor. Before speeding off in search of lunch elsewhere, Arthur did the only sensible thing under such circumstances and opened a bottle of Champagne, which gave us time to look around and get familiar with the Duchess. The small cabin was great for a boat of this size, compact but not cramped, and very well thought out. I reckon the V-berth would be very comfortable, and the quality of thematerials was, well, quality. The galley arrangement with gas burner that folds into the sink was very neat, and the woodwork immaculate. Weekending on board would be comfortable, and defi nitely enhanced by good weather and the ability to use the large cockpit, with its U-shaped bench in the stern around the fold out table.

Neat We found so many neat little features we liked, from the placement of lights to the tool kit and glasses draw under the skipper’s seat. Duchess is also kitted out with all Cornish accessories, including engraved glasses by Tim Casey of Sark Glass in St Ives, and bone china crockery from Chown China in . By the time the champagne bottle was empty, we felt we knew Duchess intimately; it’s amazing what a few bubbles does for a budding relationship! So we re-traced our wake, back to Mylor where we got a very hospitable reception at the Castaways, who served a tasty plate of fi sh, and a good pint of Brewery’s Tribute. It was a shame we didn’t have time to linger over a long lunch until late in the afternoon, but Arthur had to prepare for the curiosity of the locals, Dave had a business to run, and we had to be in Torquay for supper. We didn’t hurry back to St Mawes, because the afternoon sun had completely burned off the mist, and the view was just too good to be hurried, with green fi elds rolling down to the water’s edge, a few sailing boats easing their way gently through the barely ruffl ed waters and the castles of Pendennis and St Mawes reminding us of the colourful history that was all around us. As we walked back up to Hotel Tresanton to collect our bags and the car we refl ected on a full but refreshing 24 hours, good company, a beautiful boat, some great food and drink. We drove out of town with the sound of champagne corks popping behind us, yes we’d been invited to join the party, but the next port of call beckoned. There are now more reasons to return to St Mawes, and this absence won’t be as long as the last one. CY

Tim Casey of Sark Glass produced the wine goblets

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She is indeed a boat that would be admired anywhere

Glassware neatly stored

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