After two days holed up in Douglas, the weather turned and we did a mammoth 111 mile trip up to Rathlin Island, just off the coast of Northern Ireland near Ballycastle. It was the scariest entry into a port that I’ve ever done...... it was about 1 o’clock in the morning and we were happily following a leading light into harbour, keeping an eye out for the red and green lights which mark the end of the harbour walls...... all of a sudden we passed what seemed like a thumping great rock and it dawned on me that it was actually the harbour wall and we had just entered the harbour without realising it. The harbour wall lights were not lit. Believe me this was scary – you rely on lights so much when it’s dark, and if they are not there you’re buggered.
A good dose of whisky on a neighbouring boat cured the shock.
The last two days have been stunning, the south western islands and sounds of Scotland are absolutely breathtaking. We sailed to Colonsay for the night and had a mini-adventure as we were leaving – our outboard motor for the dinghy snapped off its bracket and fell into the drink. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen on Colonsay in the last month and we had a crowd of locals helping us to fish it out again......
Colonsay
We then headed for a marine engineer (to fix our outboard) on the edge of a loch, not knowing what to expect other than a ‘tortuous entry’ through narrow channels edged by sand banks..... we ended up in the most picturesque spot I think I have ever moored in. A secluded loch surrounded by the greenest rolling hills. Out of this world.
We are now in Oban and have had a great evening watching the sunset, listening to a bagpipe band and eating mussels.
The 'dread finality' to quote menace, has arrived. I am on the Isle of Man, in Douglas and we are holed up in the inner harbour due to severe gale force winds forecast in the Irish sea. I promised menace I would look up a boat called Tango - we arrived into the outer harbour in the dead of night, guided in by a charming harbour master and when I eventually poked my head out of the hatch in the sunny morning light, what should I see across the harbour but a perky little orange boat, bobbing around in the swell. Tango! The virtual reality of blogging comes to life...... I have taken a couple of photos, which I will post once I get them loaded onto my laptop and uploaded onto the blog (which is not so obvious on a boat with no shore power). Menace! I was so excited! I'll email the photos to you.
Yesterday I took the steam train to Port Erin (recommended by my Mum) which was a pretty little seaside resort, twinkling in the sun.
It's me! A boat named after me in Port Erin.
When we got back to the boat, planning a 3am departure for Northern Ireland, the weather forecast sent us scuttling into the calm of the inner harbour for the night.... north easterly gales force 7 occasionnally 8 with rough seas......
So it's now bucketing down with rain and it's likely we will have to stay another night in Douglas waiting for a favourable wind, before heading off to Portpatrick in South West Scotland.
The passage from Caernarvon was beautiful. We came through the Menai Straits with the brooding presence of Snowdonia as a backdrop and pootled across to the Isle of Man in sunshine - until it got dark and we followed the bright flashing light of Douglas Head into port.
Please hope for an easterly or north easterly force 4 to 5 with moderate seas and no gale warnings and no rain - we'll be over to Scotland in a flash.....
Caernarvon castle looks lovely tonight with the setting sun making the walls glow like honey.
It was a long trip over from Dublin, postponed because of gale warnings, and then when we did set off, the wind was in the wrong direction and we had to go quite a way off course - travelling 100 miles when the trip is only 73 miles as the albatross flies..... We arrived in the early hours of the morning and anchored just outside the castle walls, staying on anchor watch throughout the night to make sure the anchor didn't drag and we didn't end up running aground.
We anchored just out of swinging distance of these sand banks at Caernarvon.
So I'm very sleepy.
Earlier in the week we crossed over to Ireland from Milford Haven. The Wicklow hills loomed with wind turbines outlined against the setting sun.
We stayed in Arklow for a couple of nights - I'm sure it must be the town with one of the highest birth rates in Europe - everyone on the high street had at least 3 kids in tow. We went to see 'the War of the Worlds' in a cinema which smelt of burnt cheese. An exhausting film.
Then a short hop up the coast to Dublin where we berthed opposite some humungous cruise liners. Dublin was teeming with groups of foreign language students - I'm not sure they were learning much English. I resisted the temptation to buy a tacky 'Guinness' t-shirt for Mr L who is far too classy for such tat......
Getting hosed down in Dublin harbour
Today in Caernarvon I've had visitors, two sets of friends whom I haven't seen for ages, so that made the long trip over worth it all.
Tomorrow we set sail for the Isle of Man.
Yesterday we planned to leave Padstow to cross the Irish sea to Waterford. It would have been a 24 hour crossing. A few hours out of Padstow, battling mighty seas (!) well, the waves were about 3 metres high, we decided the wind was in the wrong direction and it would have taken too long to get to Ireland, so we changed course and headed for Milford Haven. It was hard work and I was seasick, but not too badly. The best cure for seasickness is to take the helm, and while I was helming I felt fine. The wind got up to force 6 at times and there were loads of big waves crashing over the bow.
We got into Milford Haven at about 5 in the morning, anchored and went straight to bed, fully clothed with my hat on..... so apart from a bad case of 'hat hair' and mild dehydration, I had no other after effects of the epic passage.
We are now moored up in a marina at a place called Neyland, along the estuary from all the oil refineries in Milford Haven.
When you are out on a dark sea, with a howling wind and waves crashing over the boat, there is nothing more comforting than the flashing light of a lighthouse telling you that you're heading in the right direction and that land is in sight.
I'm having problems loading my photos onto my blog, so this entry is picture-less.
We are now in Padstow - we went from Penzance to the Isles of Scilly, pottered around the islands for a day or two and then came over to Padstow yesterday.
Impressive parking in Padstow harbour.
I missed the journey over to the Isles of Scilly as I was back home in Exeter for my Grandad's funeral. It was a humanist funeral which I liked a great deal, a very fitting way to say goodbye to him. I wore posh shoes which hurt my toes. I got the train back to Penzance on Friday and got the helicopter over to the Isles of Scilly - oooh get me, a ride on a helicopter!
Anchorage off Tresco in the Isles of Scilly.
Last Monday was like a day in the Mediterranean, including a real live swim in the sea... however once again there was no wind, so we chugged along the coast to a place called Charlestown where we anchored up and got the bus to the Eden project. It was a scorching hot day and the humid biome was like a sauna. The Mediterranean biome was more bearable, and even made me feel slightly homesick for France .... ok, I know Paris is hardly the Mediterranean but at least it is in a country with a Mediterranean coast.
The Eden project
More motoring on Tuesday, around Lizard Point and to St Michael’s Mount. We moored up in St Michael’s Mount harbour for dinner – you can quite often walk to St Michael’s Mount along the causeway at low tide, so we had to time it carefully to arrive when there was enough tide.
We stayed in Penzance harbour on Tuesday night, there was no ladder to help us up the harbour wall and I managed to tear a huge great hole in my jeans when I clambered off the boat on Wednesday morning.
Now I'm going to try and sort out this photo problem.
I went home (to Exeter) on Friday evening, after a tour of inspection of the boat by my Mum. Then yesterday, my sister, brother in law and my two nieces came down too and we all ate loads of food and made cooing noises at the babies.
I rejoined the good ship Endeavour today at Salcombe and we are now moored up on a buoy at Fowey in Cornwall. We made a pitstop in Polperro on the way - this is it. A tiny higgledy piggledy fishing village.
This is us moored up between the scarily rocky shores of Polperro harbour.
This is a tall ship which has just come into Fowey.
We will now be sailing into unfamiliar waters for me, down the coast of Cornwall and on to the Scilly Isles. Tomorrow we are having a touristy day off and going to visit the Eden project, I've never been - I could be described as an Eden virgin............
Since last Friday in Brixham we have done a VHF radio course (Mayday, Mayday, Mayday) a radar course (fuzzy green blips on a screen) a sea survival course (jumping fully clothed into a swimming pool) and a chart based navigation course (if boat A is travelling at 256o from the Dartmouth church spire at a speed of 5 knots and boat B is travelling at 67o from the Kingsweir church spire at a speed of 7 knots, at which position will they collide?)......
We switched on the radio in the middle of the Dart river today to hear the news about the Olympics – the good news didn’t help with my mooring up skills and I fluffed three attempts with the wind blowing me off the pontoon each time. Secretly however, I wanted Paris to win – despite Chirac’s spectacularly tactless comments about the UK....
The sea survival course has convinced me that I never want to get myself into a situation where I need to launch a life raft – the most difficult thing is getting into the bloody thing in the first place. I’m sure life rafts are designed by 6ft men with bulging biceps who have no concept of how difficult it is to pull yourself into it if you are shorter than average with no muscle strength. When our instructor started talking about goggle eyed fish being a good source of fresh water (you gouge their eyes out and drink the water contained in the eye sockets) I began to wonder what on earth I was doing......
In the evenings we have been walking the cliffs and the breakwater.
A pretty sunset over Torbay.
Fishing off the harbour at Brixham
A view from Berry Head at Brixham