Baltimore -> Heir Island

Crowded beach on Heir Island!

The day turns out to be windier than forecast. I had been hoping that it might be calm enough to head for Cape, but that's not looking very likely. But we should be sheltered if we stay on the East side of Heir Island so we're still going. We row out to the boat and start preparing to leave, but Laura isn't keen to go. I try to reassure her that it will be more sheltered where we're heading. We raise the staysail, and I leave the engine running to appease the girls. 

Once we're in the middle of the harbour we raise the main. I want to sail a bit in the harbour first, knowing that we'll probably be motoring into a headwind all the way to Heir. We immediately take in a reef, but the wind is gusting strongly so we decide to take in another while we're at it. We bear away and sail a bit, but the boat is still heeling quite a bit and Laura isn't happy. Eileen is not too thrilled either, so we furl the main entirely and head out into the sound. 

We're motoring slowly against the wind and a bit of incoming tide. There are two open keelboats ahead of us, stubbornly short tacking up the narrow channel. They must either be racers or a sailing school, as no one else would be crazy enough to torture themselves like that! We keep back so as not to get in their way. And it's interesting to watch their heroic struggle against the elements. You really need to know where the rocks are to go to the edges of the channel like that. 

We identify the Catalogues and head for them. When the low hill at the east of Heir is at 300° we head across. There is a convenient house near that spot and we use it as a target to steer towards. When we get near the shore we head southwest, running down along the shore. This area is marked as an anchorage on the chart, but I'd like to get a bit closer to the beach. It's quite congested with many ribs anchored off the beach, but the stretch in front of us is clear. 

We furl the staysail, pull up the centre plate, prepare the anchor for deployment and head directly towards the beach. I'm at the bow with the anchor while Eileen and Laura are at the helm, advancing slowly and watching the depth sounder. When it gets to about 1.5 metres I drop the anchor, they shift the engine into neutral, and we start drifting back. There are a few boats moored near a pier behind us, so we'll need to keep an eye on them. We're also keeping an eye on the rocks on our port side, but the tide is rising and the rocks are covering quickly. The moored boats are directly behind us now, but are we still drifting back? There is a bit of wind coming down off the hills, a rising tide and swirling currents. All the boats near us are reacting differently. Sometimes we're closer to them, sometimes we're farther away. Eventually we give in and decide we're not dragging and get some lunch. 

After lunch we row ashore. We head for the corner of the beach, but as we get closer we discover a lot of scum at the water's edge and bit of a stink. We soon discover why, as there is a sewer outlet in this corner. So we paddle south a bit and come ashore near the middle of the beach, carrying the dinghy up above the high water mark. Next time we'll anchor on the south side and closer in. We could have easily come right up to the beach on the rising tide. 

Walking on Heir Island

We decide to walk over towards the pier, so we take the road off to the right. Over the hill we come to the famous restaurant and art gallery. We ate there once a few years ago, and we say to ourselves that we'll have to go again some time. The door to the art gallery is open, so we go in for a look. It's a bit unusual in that it's a "self service" art gallery. Paintings are hung around the walls of the rectangular room, and in the middle is a table with packing paper, scissors and tape. You choose your painting, wrap it up, and take it away. Once you get home you can either send your payment, or send the painting back if you change your mind!

There is an electric piano at the back of the gallery, and a young man is there playing. We'll have to get Laura to play something! She resists as usual, but once the others leave she gives in and plays a few pieces for us. Very pleasant to have a private concert in an art gallery on an island!

Eventually the proprietor/restauranteur/artist wanders in and joins the audience. When Laura has finished playing we chat a bit, and he tells us that things have calmed down a lot since the heady days of the Celtic Tiger when you had to book a year in advance to get a table in the restaurant. 

We wander off down towards the pier. The beach was crowded, but the rest of the island is peaceful and quiet. We stroll along, enjoying the views and sniffing the wild roses along the roadside. Soon we're at the pier, which is equally quiet. There are a few small open fishing boats moored near by, a few rusty old cars, and three elderly ladies sitting in a "bus shelter" waiting for the next ferry to the mainland. 

It's getting late and it's starting to cloud over so we decide to head back. The kids and sunbathers and ribs are all gone, but Boaty is still there, right where we left her! We row out, weigh anchor, and motor out of the little bay, hoisting the staysail as we head back towards Baltimore. The Cape ferry is approaching in the distance, but he takes the inside route between Sandy and Sherkin. We enter the Sound with a bit of wind from astern. Maybe we could put up a bit more sail? No, Laura is happy in a "slow boat". Other boats are overtaking us as we toddle along. A big old wooden sailboat passes by under genoa, with a friendly wave from the single-handed skipper. 

We're nearly in the harbour now but it's getting very late and we're all starting to get cold. At this rate it'll take us another half an hour to reach the mooring. I give up and start the engine. We motor across and catch the mooring buoy, tie up, stow the sails and tidy up. Another successful adventure! We retire to the Jolie Brise for a much-deserved pizza.

Anchored off Heir Island

Our holidays are nearly over, so that will be our last boat trip of the year. The next day we fly home, and I discover on Facebook that some outboards were stolen from Church Strand. Mary tells us that more than 10 engines were taken, but thankfully ours is still there. The boat won't be lifted out for another few days, and the bad weather is continuing. Tiernan put some more chafe-resistant mooring lines on and he's going to keep an eye on things in the mean time, but I'm not reassured by the callouts to the Lifeboat from inside Baltimore Harbour! Must stop looking at the Baltimore Lifeboat Facebook page, it's really not doing my nerves any good. Eventually the boat is lifted out and put safely ashore. Relief, at last I can stop worrying!

It's not easy to juggle the balancing act between family commitments, farming duties, non-boating activities, and my desire to spend a maximum amount of time sailing. Throw in some incredibly unpredictable weather and things get really complicated. But I think we were pretty close to getting it right. And I'm working hard on cultivating a laid-back West Cork "sure, no bother" attitude!

Logbook

Thursday, 30/07/2015

Baltimore to Heir Island

R, E, & L

7 miles. Late start, and after a calm morning the 8 gusting 12 forecast ends up 12 gusting 17, sunny but cool. Staysail and motoring.  Anchor off beach, row ashore. Return under staysail only.

Mooring Lines

Blustery day in Baltimore Harbour

It's been very windy the last few days. We've been going to Baltimore every day to check the mooring lines and as a bonus I get a bit of exercise rowing out to the boat. It's not far, but with the wind and tide and boat traffic it can be a little adventure in itself. Passing the pier head is especially interesting with the currents, waves reflecting off the pier,  fishing boats, ferries, wind shifts, and blind corners. 

But every time I go out I find more chafe on the mooring lines. Even the clear plastic hose is starting to wear through. I bought some heavier mooring lines and some bigger tubing, but the fairleads won't allow me to go beyond 14 mm. 

I've doubled up the mooring lines, one on each side. I undo the starboard one and replace it with some of the 14 mm line. I measure the black tubing for length and start cutting. The knife slips and I cut my finger. Not serious, but it's bleeding quite a bit. I try to put some pressure on it but I'm still getting blood all over the place. I wrap the cut in some tissue and try to clean up a bit. Must keep some duct tape on board, and really must be more careful!

I cut a piece of the hose pipe, feed it over the line, and then discover that it won't fit through the fairlead. The combination of rope and pipe is just a bit too thick. I try to force it in but the pipe starts to tear. Crap, what now? I decide to leave the 14 mm line without hose on one side and the 12 mm with a bit of undamaged clear hose on the other side. 

The next job is slightly unpleasant, as I discovered yesterday that the portapotty had leaked! There are several centimetres of blue liquid sloshing around in the locker under the fore peak. I'm a bit puzzled by this, thinking that maybe the boat has been pitching so much on her mooring that the liquid came out over the top. That doesn't seem very likely, but this is my first portapotty so I'm not really sure what to expect. 

Thankfully the locker is water-tight and the blue liquid didn't end up in the bilge. I take out the portapotty and sponge out the liquid. Rinse twice with seawater, then with Dettol, then once with fresh water. 

I start cleaning the portapotty itself and notice that the waste spout seems to be completely open. That's odd. I dig out the instruction booklet and read it through, then study the parts diagram. Hmm, there is supposed to be a cap on that spout. Hey, the cap in the diagram looks kind of familiar... Wasn't there a mystery part like that in one of the drawers? The thing I didn't know what to do with or where it came from? I dig around and find it in the bottom drawer, still wrapped in plastic. So it turns out that even without the cap the liquid won't spill out until you go beyond a certain angle. With the recent strong winds and the boat bucking like a horse it seems to have gone beyond that critical angle! Another lesson learned. 

I put everything back in place, making sure the cap is screwed tightly on the discharge spout. The wind has died down and it's turned into a very pleasant evening. Eileen and Laura won't be here to pick me up for a few hours, so I do some more cleaning and a bit of tidying up. Eventually I give in and pour myself a brandy. I stretch out on a quarter berth and watch the world turn through the open companionway. This is the life! 

After a while I get a text from Eileen, they are at the pier. I lock up and start heading back in the dinghy. I hear the drone of an engine and I can see a steaming light moving slowly in the distance. I suddenly realise that it's pitch black and I don't have any light myself. Not wanting to get run over, I turn back and hang off Treo for a few minutes until I see the roro pass into the inner harbour. When it's all clear I head across to the pontoon. Tomorrow is supposed to be good and we're planning on sailing over to a beach on Heir Island. 

Logbook

Friday, 24/07/2015

R

Row out to get the water tank. Check mooring lines, all OK. 

Saturday, 25/07/2015

R 

Row out to check mooring lines, all OK. Notice that the portapotty leaked. Bring back the anchor rode to make an eye splice. 

Sunday, 26/07/2015

Looked from the pier with binos.

Monday 27/07/2015

20 gusting to 36 kts (max gust recorded on baltimorelifeboat.ie)

Looked from the pier with binos. 

Wednesday, 29/07/2015 

R

Flat calm, changed one mooring line (14mm, but hose too big for fairlead). Previous hose had a small hole and line was starting to chafe. Notice that jib sheets are also chafing against the stays. Clean up the portapotty overflow. Drunken midnight dinghy ride, avoid the roro. Regret not having slept aboard.

Baltimore -> Inishbeg -> Baltimore

Anchored off Inishbeg

My goal in life is to get us out of Baltimore Harbour. Not that there is anything wrong with sailing in the harbour, but it just doesn't feel like an adventure. At the same time I'm aware that this will be a big step for Eileen and Laura. They still feel uneasy on our boat. 

In the past we've chartered 30 foot sailboats in places we've never been before, but maybe somehow the larger size of those boats was reassuring for the girls. Bigger boats are more stable, less likely to hit rocks and sink. It's strange though, because I feel the opposite. On our boat I know we can handle the much smaller loads on the sails and rigging, we're not dependent on an electric windlass for the anchor, or an engine for battery charging. The systems are much simpler, much less to go wrong, much easier to fix. 

But I can't deny that on our boat your are closer to the water, things happen more quickly, and although it's very stable for the size, it is tippier than a larger boat. Also, the water in the Med is tideless and warm and inviting, so if one did end up going for an unplanned swim it wouldn't be such a scary prospect.

As well as their needing to gain confidence in the boat there is another, perhaps more influent factor. When sailing with someone like Con or Tiernan, the girls are reassured by the presence of an experienced sailor so they can relax and enjoy things more. Hard as it is on my ego, I haven't earned their confidence as a skipper yet and I know this is going to take some time. So I have to carefully balance my desire for adventure with their desire not to leave their comfort zone.

With all this in mind, I've been carefully watching the weather forecast hoping for a few settled days with light winds. I want to do an over-nighter, but the weather so far has been extremely changeable. You just can't plan more that a day or two ahead and even then you might not get what was forecast... Blame it on the Jet Stream, which has been hovering right over southern Ireland. One day it moves a bit farther north and we get a good day, the next day it moves a bit farther south and we get a bad day.

The forecast says that by mid-week it's going to head a bit farther north and stay there for a few days. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday all look good, with Thursday being the best day. So we plan to head up the Ilen River on Wednesday and spend the night at anchor somewhere near Oldcourt. I ask Con about good places to anchor, and he suggests the northeast tip of Inishbeg, near the boat house. There is a buoy off the slipway that Dick used to keep his boat on, and anywhere east of that would be fine. He also suggests we use an anchor light as there is a small chance you might get a trawler coming down from Oldcourt during the night.

Wednesday arrives, and the weather is not as good as forecast. Preparing the boat takes a bit longer than usual, since we also need to fill the water tank, and add flush water and chemicals to the portapotty. By the time we are ready to head off, the wind is blowing quite strongly, and Laura doesn't want to go. I'm confident that it will be much calmer once we get to the river's mouth and turn east, with wind from astern and the flood tide carrying us along. Then we should be able to find a sheltered spot tucked in behind Inishbeg.

We motor off the mooring, with Laura at the helm as usual. I must be getting soft, because I agree to hoist the staysail only and proceed under engine and staysail. Actually, I'm pretty sure we'll have the wind directly on the nose going through The Sound, then wind from astern as we turn into the river, so keeping this setup will avoid a lot of bother in these gusty conditions. And for some reason Eileen and Laura are reassured by the engine. They seem blissfully unaware that engines can conk out with bad fuel, electrical problems, overheating, ropes tangled in the prop, etc. In which case you'll need to either sail or anchor.

As predicted, as soon as we turn east around Quarantine Island everything calms down. Soon we kill the engine, and with favourable wind and tide we're making good progress under staysail alone. We pass the seals sunning themselves on Inishleigh, a field of seagulls on Ringaroga where a farmer is cutting silage, and immobile cranes patiently looking for prey on the river bank. Life slows down and everyone is relaxing, enjoying the ride. Bliss!

We're winding our way up the river, running wide in the bends and keeping an eye on the depth sounder. I pull up the centre-plate a bit just in case. As we round Inishbeg the boathouse comes into view. We spot the orange mooring buoy but it has a couple of ribs tied to it, and there are people sitting out on the front deck of the house. This is slightly worrying because there are often loud parties there in the summer, blasting their music across the river to Creagh. Fingers crossed that we won't have to move to a quieter spot later on.

Looking at the chart, it seems like the best place to anchor is in the bend between Inishbeg and the pier at Barry's. The farther we can tuck in there the more shelter we will get, but it also gets very shallow very quickly once you leave the channel. I prepare the anchor, then we start the engine and Eileen and I take down the staysail. I ask Laura to do a u-turn and then come back towards the edge of the channel, pointing into the wind and tide, where we will drop the anchor. She slowly turns up towards what should be mid-channel and deeper water but something doesn't feel right... I don't think we're moving? We've gone aground! Crap! A bit of confusion ensues, but a little reversing gets us off quickly. Now turn and approach the edge of the channel, watching the depth sounder. When it gets to about a metre I drop the anchor and we start drifting back with the current.

It's our first time using the anchor (a 7 kg Manson Supreme) so I'm not really sure what to expect. I can feel it bite almost immediately. I let out the seven metres of chain plus about twenty metres of rode and tie off. The boat comes to a halt and doesn't move. We sit in the cockpit for a while, keeping an eye out to see if we are moving but we're not and the hunger soon gets to us.

Drunken midnight dinghy ride!

I've been designated the scullery boy*, but Eileen gives in and starts cooking while I'm tidying the boat and preparing for a night at anchor. We don't have an anchor light so I take our LED lantern and hang it from a halyard along with the anchor ball. Soon dinner is ready, and I don't know how she managed it but we all agree it's the best pasta ever! We enjoy a glass of wine with our meal, and take in the peace and quiet which thankfully hasn't been broken by any parties at the boat house.

There were many "firsts" this evening; first time anchoring, first time using the fresh water tank, first time cooking aboard, first time using the portapotty. I'm happy to say that everything worked perfectly! Night falls and I want to see how effective the anchor light is, so I suggest we take a drunken midnight dinghy ride. I'm not actually drunk, but this has been a standing joke since I suggested it on the night of Eileen's birthday. Laura's not so sure that I'm not drunk so she insists on rowing us around.

The wind has died down during the evening and it's flat calm now. We call it a day and tuck into our sleeping bags. I set an alarm for 04:30, about the time when I expect the tide to turn. I want to make sure the anchor holds as we swing through 180 degrees. Sleep comes quickly, but after a while I'm awakened by a clunking noise. Is it the dinghy hitting the boat? No, sounds like the rudder. Just ignore it and go to sleep. Clunk. I'm trying, but it's really loud, the boat acting like a hollow drum to amplify the sound. Clunk. No, I'll have to get out and do something. I crawl out and tighten the line holding the tiller amidships. That should do it. Now back to my toasty-warm sleeping bag. Ahhhh. Clunk.

The alarm goes off at 04:30 and I get up to have a look at the anchor. Eileen wakes and takes a look out as well. Despite the tiredness we're glad we got out. Not because the anchor is dragging. On the contrary it's holding perfectly well. But the night is so calm, the river is like a mirror, there's a bit of moonlight, and every once in a while a bird or duck calls out, the lonely cry echoing across the water. Pure magic!

Back to sleep, and some time later I can hear light rain falling. I'm a bit worried that our non-waterproof lantern / anchor light will get wrecked, but there's not much I can do. It's still shining for now so I leave it hoping it will last until daylight.

Just a bit farther ...

We take it easy in the morning, not being in any hurry to leave our comfy beds. After a leisurely breakfast in the cockpit, I suggest we take a dinghy ride over to see Creagh Church. Laura prefers to stay on board so Eileen and I head off. After rowing for what seems like hours I still can't see the church. Eventually the spire peeks out from behind the trees. An Treo is just a speck in the distance. I keep rowing but still don't see any more of the church. Sure didn't seem that far from the boat. I finally give up, and Eileen rows us back. 

We tidy up the boat and prepare to weigh anchor and head back to Baltimore. Liam Hegarty passes in the distance, towing a classic wooden yacht up to Oldcourt. I start hauling up the anchor rode. Then up comes the chain and eventually the anchor, covered in fine sticky black mud.

We hoist the staysail and motor-sail down the river, mostly motoring against a light head wind, but with a bit of ebb tide behind us. Once in a while a meander of the river puts the wind on our beam and fills the sail. We come to the entrance to The Sound and turn southeast, putting the wind astern. We spot the big RoRo in the distance, rounding Sandy Island and entering The Sound behind us. Eventually he overtakes us, and we're preparing to be tossed around violently, but surprisingly he hardly leaves any wake. Much less than the ribs that seem to send us flying regularly. We're making slow progress, maybe two knots. Several other boats have overtaken us, and I suggest that maybe we should hoist some more sail, pick up the speed a bit? Nope, Laura is happy being a slowpoke. Back on the mooring, tie up, success!

*Galley slave

Logbook

Tuesday, 21/07/2015

Rowed out to check mooring lines. All OK. 

Payed €25 for a week of dinghy parking on the new inside pontoon.

Wednesday, 22/07/2015

Baltimore to Inishbeg

5.5 miles; 14 gusting to 20 kn at first, calm later; 1008 hPa rising

Staysail only

Anchored overnight between Inishbeg slip and Barry's pier

Thursday, 23/07/2015

Inishbeg to Baltimore

4.6 miles; 6 gusting to 12 kn; 1010 hPa rising slowly

Motor-sailing under staysail

Love Me Tender

The lovely Eastport Pram

It was June before I started thinking seriously about the upcoming summer holidays, when we would launch An Treo for her second season. I had been discussing a few issues with Tiernan from Roeboats over the winter, but without making any real decisions. Now time was getting short as we would be arriving in Ireland on July 11th. 

One issue we discussed was related to the outboard engine. I had a gut feeling that the propeller might not be ideally suited to our boat, but without having any evidence to back it up. We did so little motoring last year that the engine hasn't even been properly broken in yet, so we agreed to wait until I could do some tests at wide open throttle. Tiernan had the impression that it wasn't far off anyway, perhaps a bit over propped. So wait and see on that for the moment.

At some point while looking over my boat insurance contract, I noticed that the contents of the boat are only covered against theft if there is evidence of an infraction. They won't cover stuff that simply "disappears". So I wanted to add a lock to the companionway hatch. Something to keep honest people honest, and provide the required evidence against the others. I have to admit feeling like I'm being a bit paranoid about this, and Tiernan is surely wondering what all the fuss is about. People in West Cork tend to be a bit more relaxed about things, and it's still not unusual to leave doors unlocked when going out. When I was a kid my parents would leave the keys in the car, but by the time I had my own car you wouldn't have dreamt of doing that. In any case there is no point having insurance if you can't avail of it when you need it, so we found a small rim lock that would do the trick. Something modest enough not to leave much damage when faced with a determined thief, yet not so beefy looking as to give the impression of a boat full of valuable stuff needing serious protection.

The other thing I wanted to add was a NASA battery monitor. Last year I felt like I didn't really know how the solar panel was performing. We never had a problem charging phones, VHF, or other gadgets, but we were always day sailing and the battery had time to recover between trips. I have hopes for eventually spending several days aboard and want to be sure the solar panel can keep up with our needs. 

Another thing we noticed last summer was friction in the Spinlock PXR cam cleats. When tacking the sheets would not run freely through the cleats, they always had to be "helped along". Tiernan is going to swap the foresail sheets for thinner stuff when re-rigging the boat. Smaller lines should run more freely.

The last thing on my job list is lazy jacks. Lowering that big slippery mainsail was always a bit of a struggle and in strong gusts it would sometimes escape from grasping hands, fill the cockpit, block forward vision, and threaten to spill over the side. I could never imagine handling it on my own, and I would like to try single-handing one day. On the other hand I hesitate to add more string to the rigging and thus more windage aloft. I read somewhere about a technique for lowering the main which involves putting in reefs as you lower, so that you only have a small bit of sail left to deal with at the end. I figure we might try that first and see if it works for us.

Tiernan completed the jobs and will have the boat in Baltimore for our arrival, weather permitting. The holidays arrive at last, and while there has been a sweltering heat-wave in Paris, the weather in Ireland is cooler than normal and promises to be quite changeable. Getting off the plane in Cork is a bit of a shock as we leave 30 degrees behind and arrive to 16 degrees.

First thing on the list is to head over to Halfords. They are the only place I have found in Cork that stock chemicals and toilet paper for portable toilets. They also have several other essentials on my shopping list (can you tell I like lists?) including a 12 volt cigarette lighter adapter (to have as a spare), first-aid kit, tire pressure gauge (for the trailer), and even a whistling kettle. West Cork, here we come!

A big inflatable plastic blob

I had always envisioned a small traditional-looking hard dinghy as a tender for An Treo. Anything else just wouldn't look right. This was confirmed to me last year when we were sailing in Baltimore Harbour one day and Con passed by on Inishbeg. He and one of his guests took a few pictures, and when I saw them later I was horrified by the big ugly plastic blob that we were towing behind. That had to change. 

Over the winter I had pretty much settled on the Eastport Pram. Great looks, easy to row, and we could even fit the nesting version in the boot of the car. The only problem with this was that Eileen doesn't feel comfortable in a hard dinghy. She feels they are too tippy, flippy, and above all, sinky. Even though the Eastport Pram has built-in buoyancy, no amount of reasoning, begging, or pleading could change her mind. She was perfectly happy with the inflatable that Con lent us last year, so an inflatable it had to be.

The question then became whether to get a small one (200 or 220) which would lessen the visual impact and also weigh less and fold up into a smaller package, or get a bigger one that would comfortably take 3 persons and some gear. Thinking about it I realised that a 270 would also take our 6 hp outboard, and thus might give us the opportunity to do some boating out of season. Up the river to Skibberreen, for example. And so it was that we will be towing a big ugly plastic blob of a tender behind us once again. And if you happen see us out on the water, please, no pictures from astern!

I asked Diarmuid at Atlantic Boating if he could get us an inflatable in time for our holiday, and he said he could. When it arrived, he pumped it up and found it had a hole. It would take at least a week to get another, so he graciously offered the use of the repaired original until the replacement arrived.

Our Motto!

Things were once again coming together. We rowed out to An Treo to get reacquainted and start loading some gear. All was perfect except for one thing. On close inspection I noticed some chafe on the mooring line. The forecast was for some windy days ahead so I would have to deal with this soon. I adjusted the length of the lines so they wouldn't be rubbing in the same spot. Then we made a quick trip to CH Marine and picked up some 12 mm line to replace the 10 mm stuff we bought last year. I also got some reinforced clear plastic tubing to put over the lines where they pass through the fair leads. It was at this point, where the line leaves the fair lead and crosses the rubbing strake that the chafe was occurring.

The forecast for Wednesday was looking good, so we planned to sail in the Harbour. This would give us a chance to refresh our memories on how to sail a boat! We took it slow and easy, just using the staysail and main. Laura took the tiller, and Eileen and I handled the sails. The reflexes came back quickly and we had a lovely sail. The fact that I had prepared a "Before leaving the mooring" checklist also helped relieve any stress as we were sure to not have forgotten anything. All in all, it was a great start to the season!

Once back on the mooring I replaced the mooring lines with the new 12 mm nylon plus hose pipe. The next few days were going to be gusty, and I was a bit unsure if this would work. On the Friday I rowed out to check. It was still quite windy (15 gusting to 20 knots) and it had been gusting to 30 knots during the night. All was OK, the hosepipe seemed to be working perfectly and there was no sign of chafe. This eased my mind considerably as I had been quite worried about this untried system in the big gusts we were having. I kept imagining the lines chafing through and the boat ending up washed up on the boatyard slip. Then wondering if she would be holed and sink ...

Slowpoke at the helm!

To round out the first week, Laura and I spent Sunday afternoon sailing in the harbour. Eileen had to take Julianna to Cork and I threatened to go sailing by myself, so that was enough to get Laura roped into going with me! Things started out really well, the weather was good and once again the sailing was easy under main and staysail. There was quite a bit of traffic and a lot of activity over on Sherkin, and later when we saw the rowing boats we realised that it was the Sherkin Regatta.

But then things got a bit hairy later when we approached the Beacon and decided that we didn't look cool enough without the jib. So out came the jib. The boat powered up immediately and heeled over, accelerating as if we had shifted gears. I eased the main to reduce heeling but our speed was still increasing and Laura became frightened. She wanted the jib to come down immediately. I tried to calm her down, but to no avail so I rolled up the jib as we approached the cliffs and then tacked away. 

It can be quite windy at the entrance to the harbour, with the wind getting funnelled between the Beacon and Barrack Point on Sherkin. Tacking away put us on a broad reach and things settled down immediately, the boat came upright, we slowed down, and Laura was fine again. Funny as she's normally a speed freak, but I guess it's a matter of confidence. 

Eileen arrived back from Cork just in time to come out and help us stow the mainsail and tidy up the boat.

Logbook

Sunday 12/07/2015 to Tuesday 14/07/2015

F4 gusting F6 (15-30 kn; scattered showers; high 17°; 1012 hPa, steady)

Noticed some chafe on the mooring lines. Adjusted length of lines to displace chafe point. 

Wednesday, 15/07/1015

Baltimore Harbour

5 miles, F2 - F3 (8-12 kn, dry, high 20°, 1020 hPa falling slowly)

Main and staysail, hot and sunny.

(Once back to mooring, replaced mooring lines, set up bridle, and added hose pipe through fairleads)

Friday, 17/07/2015

Rowed out to check mooring lines.

Bright sunshine, 15 -20 kn (20 gusting 30 kn during the night). All OK. 

Sunday, 19/07/2015

Baltimore Harbour

5 miles, F2 - F3 (5-12 kn, dry, high 22°, 1008 hPa steady)

Main and staysail, jib up briefly while approaching the beacon. Hot and sunny. Light shower just as we reached mooring. Eileen came out to help stow the mainsail.