Month: October 2020

Rescued again!

The number of Covid cases in all of the UK had started to increase at such a rate that it felt like doors were closing behind us as we made our way south. Just as we were leaving Northern Ireland, tighter measures were put in place and it was no longer possible to visit people in their homes and pubs were closing. Wales was starting to talk about stopping people entering or leaving some regions, so we were keen to continue heading south as soon as possible and head for Padstow on the North Cornwall coast.  The weather looked good, although winds were light so, after resting from our memorable night sail from Holyhead, we set off at 4.30am to make sure we could arrive at the entrance to Padstow in time to cross the sand bar and get a berth the inner harbour which is only open two hours either side of high tide.   More big winds were forecast so once again, we had a race against time to get to Padstow ahead of the weather!

We had 60 miles to cover in 10 hours, so if we could keep our average speed at 6knots we would be there in time to cross the bar and get into the marina.   As the wind was light, we had to motor to keep within our schedule and, although the seas were sloppy with waves on our side causing us to roll quite violently, it was relaxing sitting on deck and watching the sun slowly rise.   A dolphin joined us for a while to greet the sun as we slowly watched the coast of Wales fade into the distance.

When we bought Cerulean, we knew the engine was in desperate need of a major overhaul or replacing and we have chosen to get a new engine installed over the winter.  During our trip we have been patching up the engine and spending the least amount on it in order to keep it going until we haul out in October.   Apart from drinking copious amounts of oil, she has been reliable but, call it what you like, I had started getting a feeling we would not make it all the way back to Cornwall without something happening.  My sense of impending problems was so strong we had a conversation about what we would do if the engine failed on this passage and I had asked Steve to ensure he was well versed in knowing how to change the impeller and where the fuel filters were stored.    With these words ringing in our ears I heard the engine splutter and then stop!   On the positive side, the sun was shining and we had been averaging 7knots in speed, so had a few miles under our belt……

We unfurled the headsails and started sailing – under 5knots at first but the wind Gods were kind to us and slowly the pressure started to build and we were soon gliding along at 6knots while Steve tried to figure out what was wrong with the engine.    It’s fair to say that Steve is a reluctant mechanic and is learning more than he ever thought he needed, or wanted to know about engines! We deduced, judging by the way the engine suddenly died, it was either a fuel or air problem.   We have two fuel filters and Steve cleaned the primary filter – something we had been checking regularly anyway and cleaned the air filter which was very dirty.   The engine still would not start.   We decided to call Falmouth coastguard on the radio to let them know we were in no imminent danger but inform them of our predicament as we would not be able to cross the bar without a working engine.  They in turn contacted Padstow Harbour and arranged a tow from one of their pilot vessels, advising us to call them on the radio when we were 10 minutes away from the entrance to the sand bar.   Perfect.  The pressure was off and we could focus on trying to repair the engine and sail the boat to get as much speed as possible to ensure we met the tidal deadline.  

We arrived at Padstow entrance dead on high tide and called Padstow patrol on the agreed channel.  Nothing.   I tried again.   No response.   This time a tourist passenger boat responded saying he would relay our message to Harbour Patrol when he crossed the bar and was closer to the marina.   There were two problems.  The first being I could see on AIS (our GPS positioning system) that he was quite a long way from the entrance to Padstow and the second problem was he was moving at 3knots and at this rate it would be dark before he relayed the information!   The wind had dropped and the current was starting to drag us away from the entrance.   I called the marina on the phone and they said they’d pass the message on to the patrol.   We watched AIS anxiously as we were drifting closer to rocks and waited for a patrol boat to become visible on the screen but after ten minutes of drifting closer to the rocks, no boats had appeared on AIS leaving the harbour.  Now I was getting anxious, so I called again.  As I was talking to the captain of the pilot boat, who assured me he was leaving the harbour as we talked, I noticed a lobster pot beside the boat.   There are lobster pots all along the coastline and we always keep a close lookout to avoid them, but we had spotted this one too late and ran over it.  

On the positive side, as we got ourselves tangled in the offending lobsterpot buoy we stopped drifting towards the rocks, so we took the sails down and waited for our rescuers to arrive while hearing the tourist boat relaying our earlier message to the fast approaching pilot boat!  

Lobsterpots look quite innocuous as they bob around in the sea.  We have had to avoid them when we’ve been a long way from land in over 40m of water.  Sometimes the buoys marking where the lobsterpots are can be submerged just under the surface making them very difficult to spot.  The one we had attached ourselves to had a pink flag on a bamboo stick and two buoys – one was a football wrapped in netting, and the other was a pickup buoy just below the water.   The flag and the football were attached to each other and the lobster pot by a long piece of thick rope and this was wrapped around our rudder.  We were informed that the buoys could be attached to up to 50 lobster pots which meant the weight of our “anchor” could be very heavy and, if we were towed with these attached, could result in us loosing our rudder.   With little option and virtually no hesitation, Steve stripped off and, with a knife in hand, dived into the cold water to cut the rope to the lobsterpots.   If I wasn’t married to him already, I think I would have fallen in love with him at that point!   What a hero he was!  Not only was it very deep and very cold, there was a strong tide and a danger that he could get swept under the boat so it was with huge relief that the whole action of diving in, cutting the rope and getting back out of the water took less than 30 seconds! 

We were free and there was still time to cross the bar so we headed towards the entrance attached to a long rope behind the powerful pilot vessel with instructions to steer to keep Cerulean directly behind them while still trailing the flag and buoy attached to our rudder!    Twice the towing line broke and on the second time the rope joining the flag and buoy managed to work it’s way up and get caught between the top of our rudder and the bottom on the boat, meaning I now had no steering and the rudder was locked to port (left)!   Not great when we were still to negotiate a narrow entrance into the inner harbour and be pushed into a berth!   The patrol boat came alongside and towed us beside them, both of us squeezing through the harbour entrance as we held fenders to ensure Cerulean didn’t get damaged as we were pushed against the harbour wall.

It was a relief to be safely berthed in the centre of beautiful Padstow – a popular tourist destination and traditional fishing port.  A storm was coming and we were happy to be able to spend time in this lovely town.  

The next day Steve jumped into the water again and removed the rope from our rudder.  Our engine was fixed by a lovely engineer who came on board in the late afternoon and stayed for a few hours until he had removed the offending blockage in the pipe between the fuel tank and filter, and replaced the starter motor – luckily we had a spare on board!  We were operational again and it felt good! By the way, just in case you are worried about the Lobsters, trapped in their pots at the bottom of the sea, we did pass on the position of the pots to the Coastguard and Harbourmaster in the hope the fishing boat would be informed.

The inclement weather meant we spent nine days in Padstow, which gave us time to enjoy exploring the town and surrounding area.  Our lovely neighbour, Alfie, was our only close social contact as Covid cases seemed to be increasing rapidly, so we kept our distance from the tourists who jostled for position on the harbourside within 20 metres of our boat. 

Padstow is a foodie destination with numerous excellent eateries most notably Rick Stein’s famous fish restaurant.  In fact Rick Stein establishments are so prominent and numerous in Padstow, the town is locally known as Padstein!   He seems to have cornered the market in fine dining, fish and chips, cafés, cooking school, deli and even homeware!  I understand people have a love/hate relationship with his presence in the town but his establishments are very popular and obviously bring alot of tourist money to the region.

Padstow must be a beautiful place to visit in the summer as there are several long sandy beaches close to the town and an estuary which, even on a cold sunny day in autumn, was full of kite surfers and windsurfers which Steve watched enviously as we followed a long string of people walking towards the headland.  It did feel odd being in such a busy place when we have been quite isolated for a few months and we both felt uncomfortable being in such close proximity to crowds of people.

The weather started to clear and we began planning our next passage around Landsend to Penzance.   We delayed our departure by a day after the weather improved, to give the sea time to calm down after the long period of windy weather.   We knew the seas would be rolly so did not want to cross the bar in conditions that would be rough.    Before finalising our departure we talked to the harbourmaster who looked at the webcam and informed us it was looking calm at the harbour entrance, so on high tide, we slipped our lines and headed up the river towards the sand bar – called Doom Bar!

Crossing Doom Bar was fine, but the seas on the other side were much worse than we expected.  We crashed, head on into large breaking waves as Cerulean’s nose buried into the water and soaked us and everything on deck.   We discovered leaks in the cabin we had not experienced before as water entered our home through any crack or undiscovered gap.  Our belongings rattled as we continued to be thrown down the big waves that broke in front of us while both of us remained remarkably calm through the whole ordeal.   At one point I did feel huge guilt that I had led Steve into this situation as it had been my dream to live on a boat and now I melodramatically pictured Steve’s life in danger and, as captain, that was my doing and responsibility.  The force of the water was so strong our navigational light, securely mounted on the bow pulpit (stainless steel railing at the front of the boat), was knocked off and thrown back to us in the cockpit!

We continued heading out of the bay into deeper water and away from the islands and headland until we could safely hoist the main sail with two reefs and unfurl the small forestay jib.  The boat settled down as we turned the engine off and unfurled the larger yankee as Cerulean picked up speed and we were able to fall into a more comfortable rhythm with the seas and rolling waves!  We had three sails up and once again, we made good speed towards Landsend, arriveing on slack tide which is a huge advantage to get around this treacherous headland.  There are often large seas at Landsend when the wind is against the tide and we were not looking forward to a repeat of our earlier experience!

We arrived in Penzance as night fell and entered the inner harbour half an hour after the gates opened for their four hour tide window when the harbour gates slowly rise to keep water levels higher than the adjoining outer harbour, which dries out at low tide.

After a peaceful night tied to a large ferry, we left as the gates slowly lowered and headed out of Penzance in glorious sunshine and a steady wind.  The near by Medieval castle and chapel on St Micheals Mount was silhouetted against the bright morning sky.  

We checked AIS as we turned off the engine and gently sailed towards The Lizard headland, 14 miles away.   One other yacht was visible on AIS and it was Saga, our sailing companion on our memorable night sail from Holyhead!  They were sailing in our direction and ended up passing close behind us before gybing and following us towards the Lizard. We continued to sail in convoy the remaining 10miles to Falmouth, once again having a wonderful sail under shared skies and seas, speeding along at 8 knots.  As we entered Falmouth the weather deteriorated so we put in two reefs in the main before being hit by a rain squall, while a rainbow arched from one side of the harbour to the other.  At the same time I noticed something jumping out of the water beside us and announced to Steve we had dolphins again, but as I watched them jumping high out of the water I realised they were not dolphins but a school of very large tuna which were leaping beside us!

What an amazing way to finish our first season sailing on Cerulean.  It felt good to be back in Falmouth, ready for the next phase of our adventure and getting the boat ready for the biggest challenge of ours, and the boats, life so far!

Fair winds and good sailing

The weather in Scotland had been perfect, and as we left Tighnabruaich to sail around the other side of Bute, the sun shone again and we were treated to calm, still conditions. 

We motored through the narrow channel around Burnt Islands on the Northern side of Bute, looking out for the ferry from Colintraive (remembering the last frantic journey I had taken on it with my sister, Judy, a few years earlier…. But that’s another story!) and past Sir Richard Attenborough’s old house (my sister Lynn will appreciate this, as we used to make a point of commenting on the house each time we saw it, and seeing if we could spot its famous resident!).  We continued motoring down the East Kyle until the wind had increased and as the islands main town of Rothesay came into view, we unfurled the sails and turned the engine off for a lovely sail east to Largs on the mainland.

An old friend from Cambridge had moved to Glasgow many years ago and each time I visited my parents, we would arrange to meet.   A trip to Scotland would not have been the same if I hadn’t been able to catch up with Tracey, so we had arranged to spend a night in Largs marina to meet Tracey and her partner, Jim, for a few hours.   One of the standouts about this marina was the impressive boat handling skills we witnessed as large yachts successfully negotiated very tight spaces and I could only watch in awe as they expertly berthed their boats at speeds that made my toes curl.  I covert their confidence as I tend to approach cautiously and slowly, which sometimes is to my detriment as with a bit of speed, boats tend to be more responsive.

The next day we left early, just after low tide.  The wind was light and behind us, so we decided to test out our cruising chute – a large, lightweight (usually colourful) sail which flies from the front of the boat.   This was the first time we had attempted to fly the sail, and were pleased with how easy it was to set up and trim.   With the sun shining and the sails set, we relaxed in the sunshine, reading and enjoying the peace and quiet as we gently made our way down wind.   A submarine appeared on the horizon and we watched the large vessel continue at high speed above water, around the south side of Arran.  We have seen a lot of military exercises and vessels, ships and aircraft, since being on the boat.

After spending our last night in Scotland on anchor we continued the next day to sail 30 miles back to Bangor in Northern Ireland.   With a close eye on the weather, the next evening we left at 7pm for a night sail to Wales.  Steve had been keeping track of a big low that was approaching but we felt there was time for us to sail the 100 miles to Holyhead before the big winds were due to hit the next day in the early evening.   He was right, we had a great passage although neither of us slept much, and we arrived in Holyhead as the winds were starting to increase.

Holyhead marina was destroyed in a storm in 2018 when 80 boats sank, and today all that remains of the marina is one pontoon that can accommodate about 10 boats.  Although the Victorian breakwater is the longest in the UK at 2.7km, the pontoon is still very exposed and we were concerned about the safety of Cerulean in the coming winds.    We shared the pontoon with three other boats including a family of 4 and dog on a 28ft yacht and a 47ft Swan – a privately owned training yacht called Saga adventure sailing with the very experienced owner, Christian, and two lovely guests on board.

The winds arrived later that day so we doubled up our mooring lines and fenders as Cerulean strained, bounced and was thrown against the lines and pontoon.  The mooring lines creaked under the pressure as we hunkered below deck sheltering from the wind and rain. 

Holyhead is the largest town in Anglesey and has the appearance of a forgotten settlement with large derelict buildings on the headland and tired looking houses in the narrow streets leading to a small, unattractive town centre. The only saving grace of Holyhead, in my humble opinion, is the beautiful surrounding countryside.

After four days in Holyhead, thankfully a weather window appeared.   We were concerned about the sea state and watching a boat try to leave the marina and being thrown around in the heavy seas and wind, it was a valid concern.   We intended to leave for Milford Haven in the morning but on waking up to heavy rain and the sound of wind whistling through the rigging, we stayed inour warm bed and reconsidered our departure.   Two of our mooring lines had broken during the night and we soon learned that the other boats had lines that had suffered the same fate.  The boat next to us, Saga, was also heading south and had delayed their departure until early evening so, after reviewing the weather again, we decided to leave with them and buddy sail through the night.

At 5pm we followed Saga out of Holyhead harbour and into the rolling sea which was slowly calming down.  Earlier we had walked along the seawall and had waves crashing over our heads, but fortunately the winds had eased and with it, the waves were smaller.   We had raised the reefed  main in the shelter of the harbour and as soon as we were clear of the wall, we unfurled the smaller of our two headsails, our staysail, and once we felt confident the boat would cope with the bigger yankee sail, unfurled that too and the boat settled into a comfortable speed.

This was the start of one of the most memorable sails I have had to date.   The conditions were perfect – beautiful sunset, full moon, steady wind, following seas, favourable tide when it counted, wind in the right direction and the benefit of company as we watched shooting stars in the clear skies.   A Swan yacht is a beautiful design, considered to be the ultimate oceangoing cruising and performance boat.  We had expected that Saga would quickly  leave us behind but much to our delight, we were able to keep pace with them.  I took the first four hour watch from 10pm – 2am and opted to hand steer the whole time as I was loving the conditions under the bright starry sky, keeping an eye on Saga’s red mast light about a mile out to sea.  If I could see their white light, I’d know they were ahead of us, so I was focused on making sure we kept their red light in view.   At 2.30am we put the autohelm on and I went below to try to sleep but the adrenalin rush, noises from above and rolling of the boat, kept me awake most of the four hours, wrapped in warm blankets in our snug berth.  I rejoined Steve on deck at 7.00am as the sun was about to come up, and was surprised to see Saga right beside us.  Very impressive after 12hours of sailing to be less than half a mile from each other.

The wind had dropped and with a tide against us, our speed had slowed from the 6-8knots we had been achieving, to less than 4knots.  During the night our top speed had been 12.2knots and we were averaging between 6.5 – 7.2knots per hour – doesn’t sound fast when compared to America Cup boats, but considering we estimate on 5knots being our average speed, an increase of 2knots per hour means over a 12 hour period, we can reduce our journey time by nearly 5hrs.  

Saga took a different course to us – a much better decision than mine, and one I punished myself for afterwards as they beat us into Milford Haven by a considerable time!   We remained on our course and enjoyed the company of a very large pod of playful dolphins who remained with us for over an hour.   We could see dolphins all around us and more seemed to be rushing towards Cerulean to play in our bow wave or weave in our wake before we altered course and headed towards Milford Haven.    

The brilliance of the night sail was enhanced by a beautiful day with clear blue skies and a lovely sail into the large protected harbour, completing 140 miles in 23hours.  We were tired, but very happy as we dropped the anchor in a quiet, sheltered bay where we rested before preparing for another long sail the next day which, although we didn’t know it at the time, would become equally memorable for very different reasons!

The full deck – Ireland and Highlands

Neither of us had slept well on our last night in Strangford Lough.   I had strange and vivid dreams where I was in a number of situations outside my control while Steve was restless and kept checking on the mooring buoy lines.  

Several people had shared their experiences of being met with large crashing waves as they left the Lough entrance and had been swept perilously close to rocks and these stories were whirling round my head in the early hours of the morning.    Our journey started at 4:30am in a gentle breeze with a little cloud and no moon as we made our way up the river in the pitch dark.   We both peered ahead of us, trying to see whether we could make out the white foam of any crashing waves as we drew closer to the Lough entrance.  

The sky was getting light as we reached the first buoy marking the entrance and much to our relief, the sea looked calm and winds were as forecast in a direction that was perfect for our sail north.    We motored clear of any rocks and then hoisted the sails taking advantage of the northerly running current as we made excellent speed up the coast.    I was in my very happy space again – the three sails trimmed, making eight knots while hand steering close to the shore, watching cars meander along the coastal road taking their passengers to start their day.   I felt enormously privileged as we watched the sun rise over the sea and enjoyed the warmth of its early heat as we sped along in our small home to discover new places.

My niece, Fay, lives in Donaghadee, which is at the end of a long headland at the mouth of Belfast Lough.  We waved towards land as we cruised by, in the vague hope she may see us before catching up with her later in the week!   A group of islands lie off the headland and we cut through Donaghadee Sound to get into Belfast Lough.   The current was at full strength against us and we could not stem the tide under sail, so furled the jibs and powered up the engine.   With wind and tide against us, the sea became quite choppy and as we made our way down the main channel into the busy port of Belfast, we negotiated the heavy traffic coming into and out of the city while monitoring the port radio. 

The long channel of the Lough became less choppy as we entered the protected city harbour and we passed the large docks and container ships as we motored further into the harbour until the channel split into three and we took the middle option, continuing to the marina in Queens Quay.   The small marina is relatively new and operates on a first-in-first-served basis.  We were under the false impression that, as we had “booked” space, we would have a berth reserved for us.  This was not the case, but fortunately there was plenty of room and we moored side on to a pontoon before purchasing a “pay and display” ticket to display in our cabin window.   The facilities were excellent with access to a “lounge area” with free showers, internet, laundry and comfortable seating.   In addition the marina is walking distance from Belfast city centre and alongside the excellent Titanic Museum.   Apart from the noise and bright street lighting from being in the city centre, we loved the marina – and the cheapest one we have found – by far.

The Titanic was designed and built in Belfast and the Titanic Museum tracks the design process, build, launch, personalities and fateful journey of the ship and passengers.   We spent a really interesting few hours touring the museum and getting immersed in the lives of the designers, architects and builders of this iconic ship.   It was fascinating to see photographs, letters, re-created cabins and a walk through of the different levels/classes of the ship.  

Belfast is a wonderful city, full of beautiful sculptures, a great mix of modern and historic buildings and pedestrianised areas.  I loved it. 

It became clear, after talking to other yachties, that our intentions to continue sailing around Ireland was not going to be possible due to the continued Covid restrictions in the South.   As Scotland is visible from Northern Ireland and only a short sail, we decided to complete the full set of UK countries and head for the West Coast. 

My parents introduced me and my sisters to sailing when we were very young.  Every weekend from Spring to Autumn was spent at a sailing club and all of us have continued with the passion our parents encouraged us to learn and participate in.   My sister, Lynn, and I spent many summers sailing around the West Coast of Scotland with mum and dad and I have wonderful memories of special times exploring the beautiful islands.   My parents loved the sailing so much, they moved to Tighnabruaich on the Kyles of Bute and lived very happily there for 30 years until they both passed away within 11 months of each other a few years ago.   My parents would’ve been so encouraging and excited for our adventure, so it seemed very fitting to take Cerulean to the Kyles of Bute to honour their memory.

After spending a lovely few days with my niece, Fay (who is pregnant with her second child) and Isla, we set off early one morning in winds of about 20knots and headed for Stranraer in Loch Ryan.   The faint outline of the Scottish hills were visible as we headed North East, soon we could make out large turbines on the hills, followed by shapes of buildings and eventually colours were added to the mix of scenery slowly unfolding in front of us.   We dropped the anchor in a very sheltered bay and set off early the next morning for a 43mile sail to the Isle of Arran in the Firth of Clyde where we picked up a free mooring buoy in Brodick on the east side of the island.   My parents loved Arran, which was visible from their house, and was a favourite destination for them to sail to, so I was excited to be there, 40 years after my last visit!  

We spent a few glorious days exploring Brodick with its castle on one side of the bay, overlooking the small town.  The weather was sunny and warm – Steve even went for a quick dip in the sea, announcing this would be the last swim of the season – I was very impressed but I’m not so sure he would’ve been so quick to jump in if he’d seen the size of the jellyfish that swam past the boat later!

We had a lovely sail to Lochranza, in the north of Arran and visited the Isle of Arran whisky distillery where we had a tasting and introduction to the distilling process.  I have never been a huge fan of whisky, but learned a lot and can see that I could easily develop a taste for it – so much so that we spent a fortune on a bottle, just in case we needed it for medicinal purposes, of course!

The sail to Kames, in the Kyles of Bute, was magical for so many reasons.   I was excited about being back in very familiar surroundings, emotional about honouring my parents and looking forward to catching up with old family friends.   The weather was excellent with a good wind and, as we made our way down the Kyles, another boat raced us as we both travelled at over 8knots – well, I’m not sure the other boat knew it was a race but I believe two boats on the water constitutes one!   We won, dropping our sails as we came level with The Kames Hotel and picked up one of their free mooring buoys.  The familiar houses and scenery of my parents home town stretched out in front of us and I felt a mixture of sadness, happiness and impatience to get ashore! 

Our time in Kames and Tighnabruaich was incredibly special for me.  There were times I was quite overwhelmed with emotion, particularly when we were moored below my parents’ old home.  We met a number of mum and dad’s friends from the village, caught up with the lovely couple who bought their house, had a delicious meal at The Royal Hotel in Tighnabruaich (we had moved to one of their free mooring buoys so wanted to say thank you!), and had a wonderful lunch with mum and dad’s dear friends, Renee and Colin, in their garden after availing ourselves of their shower and washing machine!

To make our visit even more special, I had arranged a video catch up with mum’s brother, Michael and Bronwyn.  Michael had recently been discharged from hospital following an operation and was poorly but interested in our adventures and where we were.  We spent a lovely 15 minutes chatting, sadly this would be our last conversation as Michael passed away a few days later.

Leaving Tighnabruaich was hard but it also soothed a few raw emotions I had been harbouring.  My father, at least, once shared a similar dream of sailing across oceans.  They fulfilled some of that dream by sailing their 27ft yacht, Scapha, to the Azores before GPS and reliable weather forecasting – an incredible achievement I have huge admiration and respect for.  Cerulean is luxurious compared to Scapha and they would have encouraged and relished our adventure.   As Renee said to me, they would have had bunting flying in their garden to welcome us to the Kyles if they had been alive.   To hear that and be able to meet their friends, drink coffee on their neighbours balcony in the shadow of their former home and experience Tighnabruaich at its glorious best, was hugely therapeutic for me.   It was now time to put the Kyles behind us and start our long passage back south before the weather deteriorated, as summer was well and truly over and the cold of autumn was starting to bite!

The Friendly Isles

Each successful long passage increases our confidence in our planning skills having now negotiated a number of tricky tides and accessed harbours and marinas with very narrow entrances which have limited times of entry, dependant on the height of the tide.

We received a warm welcome from the other yachties in the marina, several of whom had horror stories of their passages to Ardglass or entrance into the marina.  We felt thankful our arrival had been a little more sedate, although stressful enough!  

Ardglass is a very small fishing village with a beautiful golf course that dominates the cliff top and, judging by the famous golfers who have played the course, must be a particularly challenging one.  The clubhouse is a beautiful building dating back to the 1400’s and gives a spectacular entrance to the course and village.   We walked through the village in 10 minutes, taking in the ruined castle and other lovely old buildings as we braced ourselves against the wind blowing off the Irish Sea.

After we were rested from our overnight passage we decided to head a few miles north to Strangford Lough.  Access to Strangford Lough is only possible at slack or incoming tide as the narrow entrance causes a strong current with whirlpools and shallow rapids to add to the mix of obstacles to avoid.   We had a fast sail to the entrance and arrived as the tide was turning in our favour.   We motored through the narrow channel, being swept along at speeds of over 11knots by the incoming tide.   A very odd feeling, particularly when trying to turn into a bay and sliding sideways at great speed, before being thrown out of the current and gliding into the bay.   A pod of porpoises welcomed us as we left the main and channel and we headed to Quoyle – a beautiful quiet anchorage in the south west arm of the lough.  We were surrounded by birdsong and a seal popped up to check us out before slowly disappearing again into the clear waters.

From the boat we could see a large standing stone on the top of a hill so we rowed ashore and went to investigate.    The stone stood in a field at the top of a hill with a wonderful view of the Lough and surrounding countryside.  These words were beside the stone:

“When most people see a megalith (standing stone) they wonder why it was erected. 

In Madagascar, where megaliths were apart of the culture until the 19 Century, King Andrianampoinimerina said that working together to quarry and transport a stone is proof of mutual friendship and contributes to happiness.

In 1995, a group of local people decided to continue this ancient tradition and bring 1000 young people together to celebrate the start of a new millennium by pulling up the 1000cm high Strangford Stone. 

They hoped, as the peace process was gathering momentum, to involve young people from all backgrounds in Northern Ireland to celebrate a lasting testament to a shared future”

The stone overlooks the peaceful and beautiful landscape of Strangford Lough and seemed a very fitting place to have a stone that represented peace in a place that has seen so much anger and destruction over the years.  

We had been offered the use of a mooring buoy in Ballyhenry which was a short walk from Portaferry, near the entry to the Lough, where there is a small town, mandatory ruined castle, marina and yacht club.   After negotiating the tidal stream again, we picked up the buoy and went ashore to explore.  

Portaferry is built along the waterfront and has a ferry regularly taking cars and passengers across the tidal stream to Strangford.  The powerful ferry glides and skids across the stream at regular intervals.  We arranged to meet my niece, Fay with her gorgeous 2yr old daughter, Isla and spent a lovely few hours exploring Strangford and Castle Ward, a large imposing stately home built in the 1760’s with lawns rolling down to the Lough.  The buildings were used as the location for Winterfell in Game of Thrones and have become a popular visitors centre, although we virtually had the place to ourselves when we were there.   

We caught the ferry back to Portaferry with Fay and Isla where they dropped us off in town.   It was still early so we decided to check out the sailing club as there had been racing earlier.  

We were welcomed into the bar and soon met a number of members who regaled us with sailing stories and then invited us to the prize giving for the races which had taken place earlier that day.   The prize giving turned out to be over a meal of soup, bread and Guinness and, in true Irish style, none of the sailors who had won were present, so there was no prizegiving! 

We spent a lovely evening talking, drinking, laughing, being given a tour of the large clubhouse and making new friends, eventually rolling out the doors in the dark and rowing back to the boat.

After a few days on our borrowed mooring we had a lovely sail further up the western side of the Lough to Sketrick.  A call to the sailing club proved worthwhile and we were given a free mooring for the night.   We had just picked up the mooring when a couple came over to welcome us to the area and offered to drive us to the shops if we needed provisions.  This was followed a short time later by a fisherman who was interested in the boat and again asked if we needed anything.   We just love the friendliness, warmth and genuine interest we receive as we travel, but particularly here.

While in Sketrick we made contact with a woman I had been messaging through a facebook group “Women Who Sail”.   Hannah and her husband, Daniel, had met in New Zealand and lived on board their yacht for many years.   On a visit to Daniels family in Sketrick, they decided to buy a house on the Lough with a boatramp and boathouse and reluctantly sold their boat in NZ.   We visited them at home and spent a lovely few hours with them. 

Our final stop in Strangford Lough was Killyleagh.  We had met Barry and Jo at Portaferry Yacht Club and, on ringing them, they kindly arranged for us to pick up a mooring buoy close to the sailing club slipway.  On arriving at the sailing club there were large security gates preventing us from walking to town but, following a few conversations we were lent a security card, on the understanding we would return it in a few hours.   The Irish are wonderful people – I love their willingness to help and eagerness to talk.

Killyleagh is a beautiful village, dominated by a 12th century fairy-tale castle which would not look out of place in a Disney movie!     The castle has been owned by the Hamilton family since the 17th Century and is Irelands oldest inhabited castle.  The approach to the castle is up a gentle hill with lovely old houses, shops, cafes and pubs lining the street on both sides.   The entrance to the castle is a large arched gatehouse which was open allowing views of the castle and gardens.  There was a lovely sign saying the gates were open so people could enjoy the view but asked for respect as this was a private house.    A lovely gesture and so unusual in these days of high security and putting up big fences so only the privileged have access to historic buildings.

As we walked back towards our dinghy we said hello to a man sitting on his front porch looking after his grandson.  We soon realised the man we were talking to, Clive, was Barry’s father and it was Clive who had organised our mooring for us.   The young boy was Barry and Jo’s son.   After a short talk, Clive asked us where we were heading next and on hearing we were going to Belfast he told us his brother, Mark was Harbour Master at the marina.   Without another word he picked up his phone and called Mark, telling him we would be arriving the next day and booking a space for us in the marina.   With that we went on our way, loving Killyleagh even more!   Our final act before going back to the boat was to return the security card which we did with great appreciation for the trust and hospitality we were given. 

While we had been in Strangford Lough we had tried to sort out the issue we were having with our chartplotter.  We made contact with Billy, who had fixed our autohelm when we were in Falmouth.   Billy suggested a way to fix it which seemed to resolve the problem, but caused another one.  While trying to fix this problem the memory card with the UK charts became corrupted and, after several calls to Navionics, they agreed it needed to be exchanged.   Our problem was we were going to be nowhere for long enough to get a new one sent and, without returning it to Milford Haven, where we had purchased it, we would have to make do with our other chartplotter until a later date.

We had an early start the next day as we needed to make sure we were at the start of the tidal stream at high tide.  This meant we could catch the tide going north as we exited Strangford Lough.  However, as our pilot guide stated, and was confirmed by someone I was in touch with on a sailing group, you have no idea what the conditions of the Irish Sea are like until you are out of the channel and then it’s too late to turn back as the strong tidal stream is against you.   Neither of us talked as we made our fast passage down the channel, not knowing what conditions we would face as we were spat out at the other end.