Six weeks ago we moored at the now defunct Salve Marine and as if by magic we are now in the Royal Cork Yacht Club…alongside it’s trophy cabinet full of silverware and modern hygienic showers. James and John are happy to rough it in the old style communal showers….still with lots of hot water, while Chris and Yee Tak head for the refined elegance of the Royal Cork.

This is our first day properly back at sea and we spend some time getting the old girl ready.  It’s strangely soothing just to be pottering round boaty bits again.

With diesel and water all topped up, we slide out of Crosshaven on the first of the flood tide, hoping sometime to be back again.

With some gusty winds forecast and a small boat warning in force, we unfurl the genny and settle in for a brisk down wind run. The wind is over the quarter at around force 5 and we’re making a steady 6kts over the ground. Heydays is normally really well balanced, but we have found over the years that any following seas over about 0.5m tend to try to push the stern round. With about a 1 metre swell running the autohelm is struggling to cope, so Heydays is back to live humans at the wheel!

There is always a pattern to a coastal hop like this, and we tick of the coastal villages and headlands.

Realising that we’re going to arrive much earlier than planned, we phone the harbour master and he’s even got a pontoon space available for us…no apparent need for rubber dinghy just yet.

We seem to be the only other boat out on the water as we approach the shallow bar across the river entrance.

A few lazy breakers try hard to get us, but Heydays with her centre cockpit is dryer than many more traditional craft, and we’re soon tied up in the centre of town. A short sail….just under 5 hours, but it was good to get the water flowing under her keels once more.

Captain Keating wanders down to greet us and we spend a happy 40 minutes or so as he tells us a good chunk of his life story as a captain and pilot in various tall ships.

The ebb is running very fast, and together with a bit of remaining swell coming up river against it, the boat and the pontoon to which we are attached is bouncing a lot. We wonder whether to move to a more relaxed swinging mooring, but that would probably preclude getting ashore.

In the end, we stay and cook dinner before heading off to find a drink….never a problem in Ireland, it seems. Hoping for some music, we are disappointed to see the musicians already packing up. The bartender though, points us in the direction of the Anchor, a very unprepossessing pub down a back street. It is rammed and there is a couple playing banjo and whistle. We manage to find some space at the back and settle in for what Captain Keating rather dismissively described as ‘fiddle de de’ music.

They too are on their last number, but as 10pm arrives, so too do more musicians. With another round of the black stuff lined up for us, they crack into a wonderful mix of traditional Irish folk, some Neil Young, and lots of Dylan.

An older guy wanders in to be greeted by almost everyone and stands unobtrusively  near us. As the songs progress, it turns out that his voice is way more than just another drunk punter belting out tunelessly. Sure enough he soon gets the call and joins the group to sing The Contender….a gloriously melancholic piece about a local boxer from Youghal who loves women and whiskey just a little to much….

He chats to us, as do many of the others who pass by. This is a wonderful cross-generational party, and by the time we call it a day at 12.30, we find we are locked in. Everyone wishes us good night as we’re unlocked and with the doors locked again behind us. The party continued….