17. Selkie Dancer -
It is said that there are more stars in the sky than there are grains of sand on earth. I could believe it the other night. Night sailing is a new found joy. The dark comes down gradually while the blazing ball of orange sun dives quickly out of sight below the horizon. I know Neptune or Poseidon are said to rule the sea but I'm sure there must be a goddess too. I feel like her riding my chariot pulled by white horses charging across a midnight blue sea, flanked by legions of other white horses underneath a canopy of glittering stars and the streak of the milky way, accompanied from time to time by dolphin outriders.
We left lovely Newlyn for Padstow, arriving at two in the morning. We raced around Land's End in the sun with some spectacular white water through Kettles Bottom and a much bigger sea running. We only stayed two nights there and set off again about mid day Sunday just as the population were revving up for the blessing of the new lifeboat, an auspicious departure and one we hoped would not result in the need of said lifeboat. This was our first real night sail, well the first one that hadn't been marred by my sickness. We were bound for Dale on the outskirts of Milford Haven. We tried out a little watch keeping with Andy going below and resting while I stayed above watching out for traffic, listening to Life of Pi on my ipod and marvelling at the surroundings.
Phosphorescence is another wonderful phenomenon. Somehow, the surging white water breaking under the boat creates sparkling diamonds in the surf. It is beautiful. The occasional shooting star streaks across the sky and a satellite slowly makes its way across. We swapped over watches but Andy had the worse bit and I woke to sounds of muted panic and came up to see a trawler pretty close and a whopping great tanker not too far off. So it was all hands on deck, oh what fun it was. We avoided the trawler and let the pilot boat and Forward Pioneer, the tanker, be mother duck and followed them in.
The next day, with warnings of imminent bad weather we wanted to be more secure, but before doing so we explored the River Cleddau up through Castle Reach and Beggars Reach to Blacktar Point, a place that suggested pirates and smugglers and I'm sure had seen them in the past. No Johnny Depp for me however so we had lunch and returned, intending to go into Neyland Yacht Haven. When we arrived there we decided that the wind was too strong and the entrance too narrow so back we went to Blacktar Point and dropped our anchor for the night.
The following day we went down the river again, we were getting to know it very well, to go into Milford Haven Marina. This is entered through a lock gate which is only open for short periods of time. It dawned upon us that we might not make the deadline and would be left rolling around in exposed waters in an increasingly strong wind. The journey became like some crazy Key Stone Cops race ( I had that tune going in my head) as we urged our engine on and physically strained to get there in time. Phew! Two minutes to spare and we shot in between two construction barges either side of the entrance and into the widest lock I've ever seen to find ourselves in solitary splendour, the only boat going through. There is a cacophony of sounds, whispering, whistling, whining, moaning, howling, rattling, clanking; the Gods are doing great battle. We will wait out these storms before continuing across the Irish Sea to Arklow.
Jinti and Andy
18. Selkie Dancer -
We arrived back in sunny Ardrossan at four this morning, well it wasn't then but it is now. It is strange to be back in our home base after all the travelling. Time to write long 'to do' lists and contemplate where next.
Last year we had promised ourselves that we would be bold and go right up the Liffey into Dublin and so we did. The traffic ground to a halt as we swept through the lifting bridge to moor in the heart of the city. We awoke to a sharp cold morning, very small tied up between a huge gin palace and the Jeannie Johnson, a lovely old three masted square rigger, the trees turning and an incongruous, bitter sweet moment to see autumn leaves swirling around the cockpit. Dublin was noisy and buzzing. You are as likely to be served by Romanians, Poles or Latvians as Australians and New Zealanders, in fact the latter seem to have moved on.
North to Ardglass where the seals never seem to leave the harbour and are complacent
and fat and make a lot of noise particularly around 3 in the morning. On our way
there, the sea crawling with fishing boats, birds freeloading on their catch, I noticed
what I thought was a log or piece of driftwood -
Ardglass to Ardrossan, last leg, and a midday start and a sail through he night.
Beautiful weather but a cold night and time to sharpen my non existent radar skills.
The magic machine revealed shipping in our path and enabled us to track their progress
and determine collision opportunities. So here we are, some 2,000 nautical miles
later -
Jinti and Andy -
