There is something about knowing that you’ve not got much time to sleep,  which makes it even worse getting to nod off. Fitful, is the best we managed sadly, so the alarm at 2.45am was not welcomed.

The best bit is laying out all the warm clothes in advance so that one isn’t hunting around in the early hours. Morning greetings to each other are polite but cursory, as each of us goes about our usual chores.

The wind overnight was still whistling through the rigging a bit more than we would have liked,  promising a more lively sea.

At 3.35 we’re ready, and cast off in the pitch black with just faint outlines of shapes of boats for company. We slide gingerly out of the marina and head out for the first pair of red and green channel buoys.

In days gone by, we would have written down the light pattern for each buoy, and ticked it off as we go past. Perhaps we should do that now, but we have electronic charts, so no need for old fashioned stuff eh? We feel our way down the lough and feel the seas rise as we clear the entrance. We round the final south marker and head north. We catch a glimpse of the lights of a couple of fishing boats, but otherwise we have the sea to ourselves. Just us and the drizzle,  which has set in!

With the early flood in our favour, we plug on, making good progress along the Ulster coast. We realise too late that we’ve already broken the law, as we should have notified the UK border force of our intention to come back into the UK.

There is no spectacular dawn today, just a gradual and very faint lightening of the sky. We start to make out a horizon, and then gradually more detail of waves and clouds. Taking turns to snooze is not easy, as the motion is quite bumpy at times, but as the morning wears on the drizzle fades, the wind lessens, and even the waves show signs of easing.

We had originally planned to stop in at Ardglass, but with all the delays, time is of the essence and we plough on to Bangor.

The coast line is grey and uninviting for photo opportunities, but we pass the South Rock lighthouse, and then as the visibility improves,  we find ourselves able to see four different territories…The Isle of Man, The Irish Republic, Ulster, and Scotland’s Mull of Galloway….even though they are mostly grey smudges above a grey sea.

The Irish sea is fascinating in all sorts of ways, not least being tidal flow. All along the South coast, the Bristol Channel, the south Irish coast and halfway up the Irish Sea, we have been used to thinking of flood tides as flowing east or north, and ebbs as west or south….easy. However, there is a huge amount of water in the areas bordered by Morecambe Bay, the north Welsh coast, and Galloway. The only two places for it to go are south past Anglesey and north through the boringly named North Channel. The problem for the latter is that it meets water sluicing down the west coast of Scotland. The  result, for those of you now asleep, is that firstly the ebb flow is now north (unnatural for us southern sailors) and secondly very fast.

As we pass the entrance to Strangford Lough, (sadly no time to visit this year, but certainly when we come back down) and turn more northerly, we get the full benefit of a strong north going ebb. The sun makes a watery appearance and the sea flattens, with just a long, lazy swell remaining from astern. Heydays slides down the front of this swell, occasionally making 10knots over the ground. This may seem glacial to those of you with yellow Ferrari, motor boats or even a decent pair of legs, but for our old girl, it is like turning into Usain Bolt.

We approach the first tidal race, Donaghdee Sound, just before Bangor, around 2 hours earlier than planned…

…”how far is it to our next planned stop in Glenarm?” muses Yee Tak. John and I look at each other and with a few tidal calculations, plus weather checks, it seems clear that, given the previous setbacks,  this makes sense. 

A slight change of course takes us ever more northerly…

and we head out across Belfast Lough. Even the wind seems to agree as it veers to put us on a nice beam reach. 

With Lough Larne rushing past one side and the twin lights of East and West Maiden on the other…

…we find ourselves in the approach to our first stop in ‘the six counties’.

We had called ahead to talk to the harbourmaster and he was extremely helpful. We knew exactly where to moor and had all lines and fenders ready, so that we were through the entrance, tied up and out of sailing togs all within about 10 minutes.

A very tiring day, but a brilliant and very satsfying adventure. Cruising is not meant to be about rushing along,  but the earlier delays mean that we need to get to our winter berth in Coleraine within the next week. 84 miles in 13 hours and 15 minutes, average speed of 6.3 knots.

Footnote:

We wander ashore, to have a quick look around, and possibly find a drink or two. First impressions are of a much more dour little village than the equivalents we have visited in the south. Gone are the gaily painted cottages, to be replaced with a fairly uniform grey stone or pebbledash. To be fair, the village was based partly around a quarry, hence the easily available stone. It reminds us in many ways of  parts of Scotland, where we saw the same grey stone and pebbledash.

The two pubs (next to each other) seem warm and inviting…

…but it feels like we have stepped back a few decades to the kind of drinking place we went to as students in the seventies. Everyone is very friendly though. Several locals say goodbye as we leave and the landlady hopes to see us tomorrow..

Further footnote:

As we tuck into dinner back on Heydays, two police cars with blue lights flashing station themselves at either end of the village, holding up the traffic. We hear what at first is rapid gunfire, or is that just our prejudice or conditioning? As it turns out, it is massed drums and the start of a procession of marching fife and drum bands. There are around 10 different bands all with 20 or so men and boys. All very smartly, but militarily uniformed….and all carrying the Union Flags,orange flags, and the flags of St George with the Ulster Red Hand in the middle.

Why am I bothered by appearing to take an overt picture? As a result what we end up with is a blurry image….

…and a lot of questions…