From CURLEW to CONSTANCE

CONSTANCE was like a dog with a bone as we bounded across Falmouth Bay under full sail. It was a fine midsummer’s day and the sea was shimmering beneath the long, shadowy body of The Lizard peninsula to the south. A 12-knot breeze had sprung up, just as forecast, and the rig creaked contentedly as the sails adjusted to the force of the wind. It was hard to imagine a better place to be at that moment.

“See how well she balances,” said the boat’s builder, Ben Harris. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

And indeed, CONSTANCE held her course with steadfast attention, allowing her crew to roam around, adjust sails, and even make a cup of tea with barely a tweak. It was almost as if she was determined to head out to sea, past the fearsome Manacles rocks, past Black Head, and out to the southernmost tip of England, Lizard Point. But then these waters are in CONSTANCE’s DNA.

For several decades at the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th, dozens of boats like her sailed up and down this coast, in all weathers and at all times of year, in search of ships coming to Falmouth. In the days of sail and before the advent of radio, the big square-riggers might leave Australia with a cargo of wheat, say, which was sold several times while the ship was at sea. The ship’s final destination, therefore, might only be known a day or two after it arrived in port. The first safe haven in the U.K. was Falmouth—the third largest natural harbor in the world—where the captain would pull in to receive orders.