Was
it a sense of optimism that led us to leave only 3 days for our delivery trip to Cork – or was
it just an over reliance on the accuracy
of modern forecasting? Whichever it was,
with a week to go it looked like a good call, as the computer models forecast
brisk NE winds all the way. The nearer we got to departure however, the less
clever our decision seemed as that brisk NE‘er turned
into as nasty a little channel gale as ever we are likely to see mid summer. By this time it was too late to change and leave earlier – patients and
meetings were booked - and so it was a sombre crew who pottered down the
Solent
on Tuesday night under engine , trying out all the
storm sails for size and generally checking all the gear. Once through Hurst
the wind sprang up and we were making knots to the West under kite- and well
before Portland had snugged down to two reefs and a
boomed out Working jib. Every half hour
the various French and English coastguard stations would broadcast warnings of
severe gales in the Channel, but until we got to Start Point the wind stayed
below 30 knots and we kept quite dry. By 1100 all that changed and the rain
became horizontal, the sea started to boil and we changed down to storm jib and
3 reefs. At one point a ship loomed out of the gloom on a reciprocal course and
passed horribly close. Two other yachts – both under bare poles - struggled to
gain the land – but we swept passed them on a close fetch, feeling supremely
comfortable under our storm sails, although still making nearly 8 knots.
Discretion
seemed the better part of valour, so we beat into the Yealm and anchored under
the cliffs outside the bar, turned on the heater to dry out and took stock of
our situation. It seemed that we could just afford a 24 hour stop and still
make the first race, so when the tide allowed we slipped into the estuary,
slept mightily despite the clattering wind and spent a pleasant time next day
exploring the creeks , eating puddings and admiring the rowing boats . We were back at sea by 1800 in
25 knots of NW, looking to catch the tide round Lands End next morning,
gradually being joined by a veritable Armada of other boats emerging from
Plymouth , Falmouth and Penzance with the same idea.
Lands
End was uncomfortable in a light westerly and left over sea, and we didn’t
really have enough fuel to motor across – but as the day wore on the wind built
and we could sail again- eventually filling in from ahead to give us a fresh
beat through the night. The boat sailed itself under No 2 and 2 reefs and we
arrived at 1100 with 6 hours to go before the start of our offshore race. With
the cruising gear to stow in the campsite and the mysteriously lengthy business
of getting 9 people organised for an offshore race to be undertaken, this was little
enough time even when fresh. The madness that is
Cork
week had begun.
Envoi
I’m
writing this in the most Westerly anchorage in
Europe
– a little cove on the NE side of Inishvikillane miraculously sheltered from the Atlantic swell that is crashing on the rocks
just around the corner . Its not a place for
the faint hearted – especially in the current boisterous
Westerly
conditions. Although we are tucked up in
the lee of the island the wind curls over the top and at sea level is onshore,
but we have two anchors out, one decidedly larger than usual for a “racing
boat” and we feel pretty safe. Even if we didn’t feel safe, the thousands of Puffins , Fulmars, Guillemots , Razorbills ,Oystercatchers
and three friendly little seals that are getting on with their busy little
lives around us would more than compensate for a bit of uncertainty even
without the impossible grandeur of the
other Blasket islands ,and in the far distance the
magnificent cliffs and mountains of the Dingle peninsula . As if that were not
enough, the trip here was enlivened by porpoise , dolphin , whales and stunning numbers of gannets fishing in all their majesty.
It
is however the perfect antidote to a crazy weeks racing at
Cork
– wonderful fun and impossibly tiring in
equal measure . Which brings me to
why I am sending you this – to thank all of you for your part in the adventure
that was Festina Lente’s
Cork
week.
Firstly
Jamie and Edward – congenial and uncomplaining companions on what was from time
to time an eventful delivery, and then fiercely competitive members of the
racing crew who insulated me from the electronics, got me on the line and got
more shifts right than all but a very few of the boats at Cork. Then there was
Anne who tamed the main in all conditions and fed us all magnificently. Helen
performed miracles tuning the “piano” – I think it is the first regatta that
have I ever sailed when we havn’t come out of the
leeward mark at least once with the spi up and the genny down rather than vice-versa. Robin provided much
needed reality checking (actually Robin, we subsequently found that the
fluxgate compass is mounted at the front of the locker in which we normally
keep the emergency rations – very magnetic beans and tuna etc – it works much
better now we have moved them!) and endless enthusiasm whilst JD’s effortless good humour and strength when needed was
the perfect foil to the competitive instincts elsewhere in the boat. Paul,
Geoff and Dave all brought great skills on those days that they sailed and Ben
and I learned from all of you
As
well as greatly enjoying your company, I felt second was the correct result
–plenty of margin for improvement -so we will have to go back. All in all I
thought it was a great regatta and I hope we can sail together again soon!
Philip
OK,
so I’m getting ahead of myself here. Lynda and Bryony flew out on the Friday, and by Saturday the hordes of
racing boats and the teeming yachties had all melted away,
leaving us to beat out of
Cork
in near solitude. Two gentle days of beating up the coast to Kinsale and Glandore respectively saw us acclimatised and we decided to take a SE wind to power us
80 miles West , to anchor in Valentia harbour – and
the next day slipped over to stock up in
Dingle whilst a low whistled past. It
wasn’t really settled enough to stay comfortably in the Blaskets – but we had come this way with the intention of retracing our cruise here in
Polly 10 years before – and we weren’t going to miss it for anything. It was in fact even grander this time around,
spending nights at Inishvickillane and in Ventry bay, as well as a tea time stop in the rather open, rolly roadstead off
Great
Blasket
Island
. Our trip to Sneem , running down the Kenmare river under spi whilst the sea
breeze built underneath us was identical to how I remember it in Polly – and if Sneem itself was even tackier than before , the
dinghy trip to get there was as beautiful as ever.
Crookhaven via Dursey sound was
terrifying – our calculation gave us a few metres to spare under the cable – but
we all had our hearts in our mouth as we approached – and all giggled foolishly
in relief as we crossed beneath ! We heard 3 maydays during our stay on this
coast – all due to yachts trapped in salmon nets. Indeed, we narrowly missed
them ourselves on a couple of occasions. Despite this, it is a grand cruising
area and the thought of racing out to the rock and turning back 5 miles short
of arguably the best cruising coast in
Europe
seems eccentric to say the least.
It
looked as if the following week was going to be windless – and the prospect of
motoring across the
Irish sea
with our badly soundproofed engine was less enticing than leavinf with the last of the wind and enjoying the calm at the Scillies – so with some
regret we left for home waters a few days earlier than expected. The upside of
this decision was a glorious spinnaker run from Schull harbour to 15 miles short of the Scillies, when the wind dropped right off, the spi wrapped and we motored the last few miles,
arriving just at dawn. This would have been the perfect passage – sunshine and
15 knots of breeze from astern – but for the unwelcome appearance of a facial
neuralgia which had me completely incapacitated whenever it switched on.
Bizarrely the counter irritant of cold water seemed to switch it off, albeit
temporarily – until the minor crisis of the spinnaker wrap did so for good.
Weird things, human beings!
4
days and 5 anchorages later we left the Scillies bound E once more, stopping
briefly at Mullion cove before rounding the Lizard and anchoring in St Mawes.
We were due some fresh Easterlies for 2 days now , and
after a visit to the wonderful new museum in
Falmouth
spent the afternoon and evening
thrashing our way into it. At dusk, just
off
Plymouth
,
we were slabbing a reef when the outer layer of the
main halyard snapped – leaving us unable to lower the main in the freshening
breeze. Out came the torches, needle and thread and a hurried repair was
effected – allowing us to drop the main and motor the last few miles into the
Yealm where we were able to effect a
more permanent job in the daylight. Back outside it was howling so we thrashed
our way to Hope Cove and waited for it to ease, which it did by midday. The
seas off the Range and Start point were huge despite the now absent wind so we
bounced our way into
Dartmouth
under engine in poor visibility, dropping the anchor at dusk.
We
were up again with the early shipping forecast – and away under engine hoping
that the wind would fill in before we ran out of fuel. We needn’t have worried
as by
Portland
there was enough to make 6 knots under kite , and it
continued as we slalomed around St Albans and through
Hurst
at 12 knots over the ground , finally
mooring at the Southern an hour before midnight.
Great cruise, great
boat, great company!
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