The sea may be still and the light beautiful, but step inside the Sloop Inn even on a glorious late summer’s evening and you’ll soon be imagining yourself cosily holed up by a blazing fire, as outside the waves crash on the harbour wall and the wind lashes against the windowpanes. This characterful Porthgain pub has been providing shelter and sustenance since 1743, and you can practically hear the rowdy fishermen of yore roaring with drunken delight while smugglers whisper conspiratorially in darkened corners.

Quite what they would have made of duck bonbons with hoisin sauce is anybody’s guess, but my verdict on these lumps of squidgy, meaty magnificence is unequivocal approval. Meanwhile, the salt and pepper squid has a pleasing piquancy offset by a creamy citrus mayo. There’s no doubt about it: the Sloop’s starter game is strong.

Too strong, perhaps, in that it sets up expectations that the mains can’t meet. Pub staples like lasagne and fish and chips are disappointingly serviceable for £15 a pop; gammon steaks and pineapple rings have the requisite criss-cross charring pattern but merely a hint of the flavour; the kids’ sausages are distinctly school canteen grade; and the lack of heat or spice in what is an otherwise decent cheeseburger renders its moniker (the Sloop Inn Angry Dog) a mystery. The bangers and mash arrive sans gravy – as per the menu, admittedly, but – at the risk of straying into entitled customer territory – it’s slightly odd to discover that there’s no facility to rustle some up to appease an aggrieved child.

All that said, we collectively demolish our dinner, just grateful after a week under canvas to be spared yet another night of cooking on a campfire or a one-hob gas stove – and, as night falls on the ivy-wreathed ruins of the brickworks across the harbour, we reason it would be rude to leave without sampling at least one more of the well-kept cask ales.

Porthgain, Pembrokeshire. Info: sloop.co.uk

words and photos BEN WOOLHEAD