A spirit of forethought
- 1 day ago
- 7 min read
Words by Hannah Tapping
A day’s sailing aboard a 1958 classic sloop, with a racing pedigree as distinguished as any thoroughbred, calls for a degree of pageantry oft forgotten in modern times.
The stillness that settles over a harbour town in the early morning is as if it’s holding its breath before the day begins in earnest. Falmouth at this hour is all cool salt air and soft light, King Charles Quay quiet save for the cry of gulls and the gentle ‘tink’ of halyards in the breeze. Above me, there’s a break in the weather as blue skies are peppered with cotton-wool clouds. Somewhere behind me, the town is preparing itself, the clatter of dray deliveries to The Chain Locker, the first espresso machines firing up along the waterfront. I turn my back on it all and walk to the water’s edge.
First mate Hollie is waiting and greets me with the warm, capable confidence of someone entirely at home at sea. I’m about to embark on a day sail aboard Sailing Yacht Silvio. Having cut my journalistic teeth on a traditional boat magazine, I’m excited at a return to the heady days of classic lines and teak deck boards. Hollie helps us into the tender and hands us our waterproofs; wise counsel, as it turns out, for even on the calmest of mornings, the harbour has its own ideas about spray. We motor out through the inner harbour, past the working boats and the pretty yachts, and there she is – Silvio.
She sits on the water as though she owns it, which in the most romantic sense she rather does. Commissioned in 1957 by the Hon. Robert Boscawen MC MP and designed by the distinguished naval architect Robert Clark, she is a 1958 classic sloop: steel-hulled and elegantly proportioned, she combines what her heritage rightly calls the two effortless British qualities of elegance and strength. By the late 1950s, Boscawen was already an accomplished sailor, and Silvio was built with clear offshore ambition. He raced her in the Fastnet in 1959 and again in 1961. In the latter, where just finishing was worth a prize, Silvio came in a creditable 7th in Class II. With a pedigree as thoroughbred as the 1860s racehorse she is named after, Clark himself is said to have declared: “She will always be the most beautiful boat in the harbour.” Sixty-seven years on, it is difficult to argue with him.
We climb aboard and I’m welcomed by Captain Joel Edward. His background is in captaining tall ships, most notably Phoenix of Hornblower and Poldark fame, a complex and demanding vessel requiring seamanship of the highest order. As we make ready, Joel runs Silvio with a gentle authority, every movement considered and every instruction clear. No wonder, as at 46ft and 14 tonnes Silvio requires a certain level of respect. Hollie, who has recently completed a degree in marine biology alongside her tall ships experience, moves about the deck with the same easy efficiency, and within moments, the mooring lines are cast off and Silvio begins to breathe.
We leave the mooring under sail, no mean feat for a yacht of this size and stature and with the jib up out of the harbour mouth into the Carrick Roads, the magnificent stretch of deep-water channel where the Fal meets the sea, the green hills of the Roseland slipping past on one side, Pendennis Castle rising on the other, sentinel and witness, as it has been for centuries. As the wind finds the canvas Silvio, true to her nature, true to her name, surges forward with a powerful presence, a testament to her pedigree. As we round the headland with Pendennis in our wake, the analogy is entirely apt. She breaks from the mouth of the Carrick Roads like a horse from a starting gate, that deep, mighty keel holding her steady as she gathers pace, sure-footed and powerful, leaning into the wind as though she has been waiting all morning for exactly this. An appetite for the sea is evident; you can just feel it from the deck beneath your feet.
And then, as we reach the middle of the bay, the world falls away. There is no better description of what happens when you are truly at sea under sail. The noise of the town is behind you, gone, and that low-level hum of obligation and distraction that follows most of us through our days vanishes.
There is Silvio; there is the wind; there is the water, impossibly blue and alive with light; and there is the simple, clarifying fact of moving through it all, powered by nothing more than the relationship between cloth and air. For all intents and purposes, you are in another world entirely, one where time operates differently and the only thing that matters is what is immediately, beautifully present.
When Joel drops anchor for lunch, he reaches for a book. It is a 1932 edition of The Manual of Seamanship Vol II, and he asks if I mind if he reads aloud from it with the wry smile of a man who understands that, as a fellow bookworm, I will appreciate that old words still hold: “Organisation, or the making of good working arrangements, plays a most important part in the administration of His Majesty’s Navy. The power of organising varies in individuals and, even if some are gifted with it instinctively, it must be supplemented by a thorough knowledge of the profession and, if possible, by experience when dealing with the technical and practical control of a man-of-war. For those less gifted recourse must be had, in addition, to close observation, study, and the cultivation of a spirit of forethought.” There is something both serious and joyful in this gesture. The great tradition of the sea, observed and honoured on this perfect boat at anchor in a Cornish Bay. Joel keeps a tight ship, in every sense and it feels safe in his hands.
We anchor off Gylly, another manoeuvre adeptly accomplished under sail. Instruments are kept to a minimum on Silvio. The ship’s compass, made especially for the boat and housed in a gleaming brass case, stands proudly at midships and while technology is apparent, it’s not relied upon, as is evident as Joel shows me the charts of their recent voyage to the Scillies. He watches the bubbles in the water to gauge Silvio’s speed as we drop anchor, this is a captain who is clearly at one with the ocean. A squall comes through, so we head below decks for a welcome hot drink and bagels. In keeping with Silvio’s heritage and as a nod to her regal appearance, coffee and tea served aboard come with a Royal warrant and are served in China cups, of course. It’s all delightfully civilised and as we sit around her table, Joel tells me that even Silvio’s race crew’s uniform is shirt sleeves.
As we are lulled by the gentle rocking of Silvio at anchor, he goes on to talk about how he came to be a part of her venerable story. Constructed in steel by a select group of renowned Dutch yacht builders, she emerged as a vessel capable of being pushed hard without compromising her form, while remaining comparatively straightforward to maintain. Having remained in the ownership of the same family for all her life, she underwent a significant structural refit in 2010-2011, but was then stored and maintained ashore until she was last sailed under Boscawen ownership in 2017. When Joel first saw her on the hardstanding at Mylor Yacht Harbour, she was in need of a complete refit. The advice was a three-year project, but Joel was keen to get her back sailing as soon as possible and so after an intense year of work at Mylor, including all-new rigging and sails, she was signed off as seaworthy with all her tickets, attestation to Joel and his unwavering passion. There are some smaller details that Joel and Hollie are still working on to bring her truly back to her former glory and there’s a month booked under cover this winter where her teak woodwork will be fully restored.
The finest of yachts deserve the finest of fayre
With blue skies overhead once more, we finish our tea and make ready to set sail on a course back to the harbour. We weigh anchor and I feel incredibly privileged to be offered the helm. I find her to be extremely well balanced, light and responsive; while clearly built for speed, she’s also extremely stable in a following or quartering sea and as we sail back across the bay I can’t keep the smiles under wraps, this is nothing short of joyous. There is no fuss, no drama; it’s as if Silvio is simply saying: “Here I am, just being marvellous…”
We are treated to two seal sightings on our way back: a large bull whose huge head bobs and nods towards us as if to wish us a “good day”, and then a younger pup who’s found a spot on the channel buoy to bask in the June sunshine. Other than a few smaller yachts, we have the bay to ourselves and take our time to tack back to Silvio’s harbour mooring. Joel and Hollie tell me that Silvio is sailed every single day, whether that be a guest charter, race training or a simple out-and-back to keep everyone and everything fresh – she was built to sail, after all. Designed for a racing crew of six, Silvio is currently being put through her paces by a newly formed crew in readiness for Falmouth Classics Regatta 2026. Or perhaps it’s the other way around?
A day aboard Silvio is, in the truest sense, an escape. She has been sailing these waters for nearly seven decades, and while her history is still unfolding, guests are very much invited to be a part of that. We return to the quay in the late afternoon with salt on our skin and something lighter in our chests. Silvio is a remarkable, time-stood-still study in mid-century authenticity which I urge you to experience for yourself, suitably dressed of course! Bon voyage.
Silvio is operated exclusively for charter through St Michaels Resort and is available to both residents and non-residents. To book a day sail, one of this summer’s sailing events or a stay package, visit: stmichaelsresort.com/falmouth-sailing-experience.
