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