The English Lake District is a delight for dinghy sailors. It can be very gusty at times as the wind funnels down from the fells but the scenery is terrific. There are many lakes for boating, some are restricted to rowing boats, and some to unmotorised boats. Windermere, Coniston, Ullswater, Thirlmere and Derwent Water are the four most popular. Windermere is very busy in the summer, expensive and crowded, but getting out on the water away from the villages avoids this.

I launched on Friday evening at Harrow Slack. This is a National Trust area so you cannot launch here if you have an engine. Even if hidden away in a locker. Also ALL boats on Windermere with engines have to be registered first and you are given (sold) a set of big numbers to stick to the side of your boat. A proper Police boat (very fast) ensures you comply.

I decided to sail South down the lake and see if I could get to the very end as I knew of a pub near Newby Bridge on a river that flows from the lake and looked like a Wayfarer could reach it.

The wind on the lakes is very frustrating, it is never constant, it blows from every direction because of the surrounding hills, and sometimes it seems to blow from two directions at the same time.

After what seemed a very long time, I finally reached the ferry terminal at Lakeside and I could see that although the lake was ending, there seemed to be a river past where all the larger boats were moored. I cautiously made my way past and noticed that it was also getting very shallow but found a channel that led me from a crowded lake into a deserted river with just swans, cormorants and a heron for company. At one point I was surprised to see a steam train pass by near the bank ( The Lakeside & Haverthwaite Railway ). Yes this was truly a delightful spot, proving that Wayfarers reach waters where bigger boats cannot follow.

After a mile or so I came to the limit of navigation, but here also was the pub that I wanted to reach. I moored to the wall, and got the tent over the boom just as the rain started to fall. If I am moored near pubs or in harbours where I think someone may let go of my ropes for a joke, I also lower the anchor. That way, hopefully, the boat is always where you left it when you wake up.

Saturday morning the rain was torrential so I decided not to move. I left the back flaps open just to watch the world go by. Only ducks and swans were out, but they were friendly enough all the time I had something for them to eat

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By mid morning the rain looked like stopping, so I packed the tent and got ready to leave. The wind was dead astern so I just ghosted along under jib only. A cormorant fishing just ahead of me must have been getting fed up, as every time he surfaced we were nearly on top of him again so he had to dive back under and swim on ahead. He must have thought the river was not wide enough for him to go to one side, and we went on like this for probably half a mile until the river widened and he got clear.

From Lakeside to Waterhead at the other end of the lake is about 10 miles, so I decided to sail there and get some fish & chips for tea.

It was a pleasant run up as far as Bowness with the wind just before the beam allowing me to go quite away without tacking. For 3 miles I sailed in company with a GP14 who was going to turn back at Bowness. It was nice having another person to talk to occasionally when you are single handing. Stops you talking to the birds and fishes.

After Bowness the storm clouds gathered once more and it was time to don the oilskins. I wear glasses, and in rain and spray they are a devil to see out of clearly, but I had the answer hidden away in the forepeak. An authentic Grand Banks Sowester ( thanks Andy ). With the hood of my oilskins on and the sowester put on back to front – it’s suprising what single handers can get away with – I was fairly protected from the now torrential rain. With the rain came the gusty wind, so after reefing down I carried on right up the middle of the lake and reached Waterhead around 3pm.

I tied up to one of the jetties and went ashore for my well earned fish and chip meal. From the funny looks I got from the customers I suppose I should have took my oilies off outside the café.

By the time I had finished and got back to the boat the sun had come out so I decided to sail back towards Bowness again to spend the night somewhere around there.

Bowness is always very busy, and after a while ashore I decided it would be better to anchor for the night on the opposite side of the lake. This was a complete contrast with total peace and quiet and plenty of wildlife to observe before turning in for the night.

Sunday dawned another beautiful day, and after a leisurely breakfast I got the boat ready for sailing and packed the gear away that I didn’t need, so it could be taken straight ashore later when my wife returned to pick me up.

One good thing about sailing on lakes and rivers is that you don’t have to get up at un-earthly hours to work the tides.

All in all, another good weekend in the lake district with my bed and breakfast costs of £0. Another good reason to go Open Boat Cruising.

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Helvellyn is one of the Lakeland's most popular "fells" (large hill, small mountain?), and at nearly 950m high it is an impressive and picturesque climb.

For the last two years I have spent the last weekend in October trying to climb Helvellyn. I like to leave my car and trailer at the opposite end of the lake ( Ullswater ), in a campsite at Pooley Bridge ( why can’t they ever believe me when I say I want two nights for car and trailer BUT NO TENT ), sail down the lake to Glenridding on Friday evening. Climb Helvellyn on Saturday, then sail back on Sunday. Sounds OK, but in reality I have been beaten by the weather on the top of the mountain on both occasions – still next year!

By 8pm in October, when I have finished getting the boat ready and put the car back on the camp site, it is dark, still no other silly sod would be out on the lake now so I should be OK. I’ve sailed at night on many occasions but sailing on these lakes is something else. When there is no moon it is PITCH BLACK. You cannot see a sky line like you can at sea, as the fells drop right into the lake from hundreds of feet up, and the few lights that there are hidden in the trees so you have no idea where you are, so you have to rely on your compass and dead reckoning. If it had been a moonlit night I suppose it would have been better, but I was out in it and had to make the best of it. I decided to only go half way, and anchor in Howtown bay, and after the allotted time I guessed it would take me, I cautiously edged over to were I thought it might be.

In the distance I could see little navigation lights so I assumed a boat was in the vacinity of the moorings and moving. I edged over towards it, shining my torch ahead to try and find the shore, and kept a wary eye on the other boats lights as it seemed he couldn’t make his mind up what to do. First I could see red, then green, then both ?????????

It was still pitch black and I got as near as I dare before letting the anchor go. After getting the tent over the boom a rubber dinghy came over from the other boat and invited me over for a drink. It was a medium size sailing boat that had anchored and left his navigation lights on, and was swinging around his anchor – so please, use the proper lights at night or you will confuse everyone.

After an enjoyable hour or two chatting about boating and drinking their beer ( I think they were envious of Dr.Syn, as although a lot smaller, we could up and go to any area we please by trailing, but they were restricted to the one lake ), they rowed me back and I turned in for the night.

The drizzle of the previous evening had gone when I got up on Saturday, and after breakfast I made my way to Glenridding and beached the boat at the sailing club for the payment of one can of beer.

The climb up Helvellyn is spectacular, and that is the trouble with sailing in the Lake District. It makes you want to both sail and climb, but you can’t combine both in one day.

The weather at ground level was quite sunny but I could see the cloud swirling around the tops and guessed it would be another abortive climb like the year before. The cloud was just about at 800m which meant "Striding Edge" would be my limit as I am not a climber and I do know it is dangerous to exceed your limits on these fells, as it is also with sailing.

I managed to get to the other side of striding edge before turning back. Other, hopefully more experienced people, were passing me and were swallowed up in the mist within minutes.

I wasn’t disappointed as it had been a nice climb, and there is a reason for going again next year now as well. The walk back down on a different route was just as hard as going up, and it was sheer bliss to put my feet in a little stream near the bottom.

I decided to sail back as far as Howtown again for the evening, but alas when I got there my free drinks dispenser was not anchored there.

The sail back to Pooley Bridge on Sunday morning was quite sedate, except in the region of the yatch club, were it is always busy. If they are racing, although I might still go up through the middle, I always give way and make my intentions known well in advance.