learning to sail in Cornwall

With the Olympic Games appearing on the horizon, one of Britain's strongest medal hopes is triple gold-medal-winner Ben Ainslie, hailed as "Britain's greatest sailor since Nelson". I think of him as I make my way along the jetty in the bright Cornish sunshine, clad in thick waterproofs and a lifejacket, ready to embark on my RYA Start Sailing Level 1. Ainslie learned to sail here in Falmouth, while yards away is the dock where Dame Ellen MacArthur was greeted by thousands of people after breaking the solo round-the-world record in 2005. Years before her, Sir Robin Knox-Johnston also returned here to a hero's welcome. My friend Fiona and I may not incite such heady levels of excitement among Falmouth's locals as we take to the water, but we can dream. Majestic ships The sun is blinding and the air is crisp, while the wind is a steady force 4/5. We start with a classroom session on safety and the principles of sailing before being transported, along with our instructor Chris, to Goldie, moored on a nearby pontoon. Goldie is a keelboat – a 20ft keeled sailing boat, ideal for beginners because of its stability. We spend the first 30 minutes getting the feel of Goldie under motor, taking turns to manoeuvre it under the gaze of the majestic ships being repaired at Falmouth docks. Fiona and I master steering – or pushing the tiller the opposite way to the direction we want to go. Finally, we hoist the sails. With the mainsail and the jib (the foresail of the boat) raised, we switch the throaty motor off to be greeted by a welcome stillness. The sails catch the wind, snapping and cracking before filling and propelling us along, silently. Falmouth unfolds in front of us, sprawled along the coastline. High on the hill is the prepossessing Observatory Tower – our home for our stay and the town's highest point. Behind us, the Carrick Roads waterway reaches the open sea. The first lesson is tacking: turning the bow of the boat through the wind to alter its course. I am at the helm and I call: "Ready about," as instructed, which prompts Chris and Fiona to take up position on the jib sheets (the ropes attached to either side of the jib). I shout: "Lee ho," push the tiller away and Goldie's nose turns through the wind. We duck, in readiness for the boom swinging overhead. Fiona releases the jib sheet and Chris hauls his sheet in on the other side. There is something very therapeutic about this. We happily tack all morning, swapping roles and barely noticing the sky growing ominously black. Before lunch we are pelted by a short, sharp hailstorm, but it fails to dampen our enthusiasm. After warming up with a welcome Cornish pasty, we tackle the art of gybing – turning the stern through the wind to change course. Chris teaches us to bring in the main sheet and, heads down, we complete a gybe. We continue to tack and gybe our way around a series of buoys under a brooding sky, but, as we head towards Trefusis Point, a squally wind hits us, heeling the boat over sharply and propelling Chris and Fiona across the deck. Fiona's look of horror subsides as Chris adjusts the main sheet and Goldie returns to a more pleasing angle. Buzzing, we return to the pontoon and learn how to secure Goldie for the night. Panoramic views As for us weary sailors, we seek respite in Falmouth's five-storey Observatory Tower, an incredible former meteorological tower built in 1868. It has been recently refurbished as a self-catering property, with wooden floors, nautical lights, reclaimed fittings, funky weather instruments and a lavish wet room and bathroom. But the icing on the cake is the fifth-floor lounge, with its panoramic views over Falmouth, taking in the seas we have sailed – and miles beyond. We feed our raging appetites with a tasty fish-and-chip supper from nearby Harbour Lights. We eat, drink and watch, mesmerised, as the port is transformed into a mass of twinkling lights. Stunning morning Rejuvenated, and buoyed by another stunning morning (not to mention homemade porridge cooked on the sleek Neff hob), day two has us practising our tacking and gybing. After a couple of hours, we head to nearby St Mawes, rounding its handsome castle 45 minutes later to carefully manoeuvre Goldie alongside a buoy. On land, we sit outside the Rising Sun pub supping hot soup, our cheeks glowing. We sail back to Falmouth, the impressive form of Pendennis Castle welcoming us home as we glide past. Right on cue, a rainbow appears. It is not quite what Ellen MacArthur must have felt on her return, but it must be close.