More of that later…Heydays is finally on the move again after a summer where we have been doing things other than floating around on our bit of Moody plastic, although Yee Tak and James had a week just lazing around on the river and a brief foray out into the sea with granddaughter for her first time on the boat.

Our original plan had been to mooch over to Southern Ireland and explore Wexford, Waterford and Cork before heading to the Scillies and then a trundle East and home. However, hospital appointments conspire against us and we finally slip the mooring at Rudders around 5pm on Saturday 16^th September. Rudders was a great place to leave Heydays and despite a few damp trips in the tender we would very happily visit again and explore Pembrokeshire some more.

We have now decided to miss Ireland this time and head instead for Newlyn, where we will pick up Yee Tak and Chris with a plan to spend a few days in the Scillies before perhaps leaving Heydays in Falmouth or thereabouts while we return home again for yet more domestic stuff.

With a forecast F4 or 5 occasionally 6 from the North and a sea state of slight we settle in for a run across the outer reaches of the Bristol Channel and a quiet but longish night. With 10 hours of darkness ahead, we are already missing the short not-quite-nights of our summer days in Scotland. The sea is definitely more than slight and gives us a very short yet steep chop over the stern. The autohelm struggles to keep a steady course and the wind is nowhere near F4. Every sea shakes what little wind there is out of the sails and once more we need to motor-sail to keep up sufficient speed to get us to Runnel Stone off Lands End before the tide turns. As darkness creeps over us, we settle into a watch routine and have a fishing boat and another yacht for company, albeit some distance off. Occasional bursts of torrential rain add to the discomfort of a rather violent motion and a few flashes of distant lightening do little to cheer us up. Nothing like sitting on the sea with a huge metal pole sticking up amidst a thunderstorm…this is not what was forecast.

The night trundles on and around 3.30 a very sodden John retires thankfully below while James huddles under the spray hood. The radar is reassuring and we have overtaken the yacht a few hours ago. No sooner than John shuts his eyes than the engine dies. This provokes instant reaction  and all thoughts of sleep vanish. We go through the routine of trying to restart without success and finally accept that we are going to have to bleed the diesel lines through…not a great prospect in a heaving boat…

Bleeding yields no success. In fact it yields no trace of diesel at all. This is worrying as we should have at least 90L of fuel, enough for around 35-40 hours of constant motoring. We manage to put another 15L into the tank from our reserve cans but to no avail. Next step…filter change. This shows finally the true extent of the problem. A black slimy sludge lies across the top and we have read enough to know that we have diesel bug. Enter Klebsiella, Candida and Cladosporium. These are the diesel equivalent of STDs. We wouldn’t have minded but we never refuelled without the full protection of biocides and inhibitors.

The fuel line is completely blocked and we gradually accept the fact that we are not going to get the engine running again without some major work and certainly not something we can attempt at sea. However we are a sailing boat so we will sail out of trouble…By now, dawn is breaking and the sun brings a lessening of the sea but sadly no more wind. In the last 3 hours we have made just 8 miles and we start to wonder if we will make the tide gate off Lands End. There are few options open to us…the north Cornwall coast is notoriously inhospitable with neither Padstow nor St Ives especially easy to enter and certainly not without an engine. Pressing on is the best bet and yet we doubt if we have enough wind to get us to Runnel Stone. We also doubt that we will be able to stem the adverse tide that will then be pushing us back round the north Cornwall coast. Option 3 is to head out to sea and away from what is now a lee shore. This solves the immediate problem but does nothing to address the longer term problem of needing to get into port. The forecast is for the very light winds to continue. We are now in the shipping lanes and have no ability to get out of harm’s way, relying solely on others seeing us.

Reluctantly we decide that we ought at least to inform the coastguard of our situation so that at least they can warn other shipping. This now throws up a secondary problem…our main VHF appears not to be transmitting. We check all the on board connections and realise that the problem is either at the top of the mast or with the set itself. Our only recourse now is to close the coast and hope to get sufficient signal from our back-up hand-held VHF to talk to the shore.

Yet despite all this, not only are we in no danger, but the day is glorious and a pod of dolphins spend ages surfing and playing around us. They truly are magical and inspiring and there are many worse situations we could be in….

Around 11 we finally get a weak signal to Falmouth Coastguard. After much consultation on their part they finally decide that they would rather not have a small boat chuffing around with limited manoeuvrability in the shipping lanes, especially as we have no prospect of getting to Newlyn before darkness descends once more. They ask us if we would accept a tow and we agree. Sennan Cove Lifeboat is duly launched at 11.15 and by 12 they are in radio contact with us and we can see the sun glinting off their windows. In the last couple of hours the wind has become even more fluky and we are down to just 2kt. We try to look reasonably efficient and have sails down and lines ready by the time they make a final approach.

 

In short order they check we are all OK and they feel they have no need to have a crew on board. This makes us feel marginally less like a couple of incompetent geriatrics. With a 60m-70m rope there is no nasty snatch and Heydays is soon creaming along at just under 10kts. Being towed is not easy and it is quite hard to keep from yawing from side to side. We take half hour stints at the wheel for the 4 hour trip to Newlyn.

 

Unbeknown to us, a watcher on the cliffs takes some picture of us being towed with the Longships Light in the background…it is now on the Sennen Cove Lifeboat website!!!

We pass Lands End and some great coastline and soon Penzance Bay opens out before us with St Michaels Mount majestic in the afternoon sun.

Just outside the harbour entrance we drop the tow and they tie up alongside to take us into a berth. The seamanship of the cox is incredible and he brings Heydays alongside so gently that he wouldn’t have crushed an egg! No sooner are we tied up than they are off. We just have time to ask about charges and donations, but his parting shot is “…as long as you’re happy, we’re happy”. With that, the magnificent rumble of the big diesels pushes them back out of Newlyn, back to Sennan Cove  and presumably back to their disturbed Sunday roasts.

These guys were not especially challenged today in our ‘rescue’, but we were equally humbled and inspired by them….humbled that they ask for nothing (although we will of course donate) and inspired by their selflessness and seamanship. Thank you so much to the Cox and Crew of the Sennan Cove Lifeboat.

As a footnote, Newlyn is home to the Penlee Lifeboat and this is an added and poignant reminder of the danger they willingly put themselves in to serve and save others.

As a further footnote: John’s brother Pete and his wife Wendy drive over from The Lizard and join us for dinner in the Red Lion on Sunday evening. This was a real treat and we resolve to return sometime soon.

 

This is to be our longest trip so far, and at 130 miles is around 24 hours depending on wind, tides etc. The pilot book unhelpfully suggests that the south to north route is best, as it is possible to carry tides north for a long time using back eddies and other oddities off the coast. We are going north to south so just have to sit through two tide cycles and tough it out.  James flies in on the morning flight from Bristol and by noon we are waving goodbye to Chris and to Dublin.

Again, we are told to keep well clear of the channel and as soon as we are able, we gratefully bear away south east across the bay and away from the big commercial movements…just the ferry into Dun Laoighaire to think about…

The wind is more south than the forecast SW and we motor-sail with some tide having decided to keep to the Irish coast for as long as possible before getting a good wind (and neutral tide) across to Milford Haven. We set a course to pass down the outside of Arklow Bank and the wind farm and the autohelm whirrs away happily as we alternately doze in loose watches. Dublin County and Wexford coast slip past…

 

But of the Wexford coast we see nothing. The clouds close in and the visibility reduces just in time for us to be in a relatively busy part of the shipping lane along the coast! With visibility less than a mile, the wind farm is there and not there…

…and at times strangely half there…

The radar however gives us great comfort and we can ‘see’ other boats in reasonable time and make adjustments to keep clear. This is only the second time we have had to use it in anger so to speak on this trip and we count ourselves lucky, given the number of anxious foggy crossings of the channel we have made in the past in the days before we had radar.

The fog comes and goes and darkness descends early, together with a more lively sea and Heydays still only able to motor-sail with just a main to help us along. Ships come and go and only one gives us concern until we show a very definite course change, at which point she also changes course to pass well clear. Even so, a mile and a half is close enough…By now we are plugging a foul tide and the miles tick past…and the night wears on….

We close the edge of the main Irish side shipping lanes and bear away towards Wales, thankful to be away from the main traffic and able to finally set a decent genoa in what it still stubbornly a SSW F4 or 5. Taking turns to sleep, the night passes and just a ferry with lights so bright they mask the navigation lights, gives any cause for concern. It slips away into the night as the moon and a few stars put in an appearance for a short while…and then we are alone again, peering hopefully into the east for some signs of brightening if not actual sun.

By 3 we have the first signs of Wales with the Bishop and Clerks light welcoming(?) us and then the first signs of dawn around 4. Just after 5 John is woken by an excited James as we have the company of a pod of dolphins. They disappear on their own journey all to quickly and just a lone dolphin joins us later for a short while before she(?) too follows another path.

We breakfast on warm focaccia and coffee to welcome the day and pick our way past Skokholm and Grassholm islands and the start of the channel into Milford Haven. From the ruggedness and tranquillity of the coast we are suddenly into heavy industrial area of docks and refineries.

The pilot book, the chart and the almanac each give conflicting advice on what the yacht should do…the pilot says either east or west side but keep out of main channel; the chart shows the track for yachts clearly in the west channel and Reeds Almanac says keep to the East! We’re coming from the West so opt for West channel. A large tanker is given permission to leave by the harbour authority over the radio and we decide to cross rapidly to East channel just as a pilot boat speeds up very close to head us out East. We wave cheerily and comply. He doesn’t wave back! The tugs are busy nudging and nosing the huge tanker…and we keep clear.

Only a tug passing by in a hurry to Pembroke Dock bothers us…

…until we pass under the Cleddau Bridge and then….another world. The refineries and docks are hidden from view and all is beautiful river, with trees and woods tumbling down to the banks and occasional lines of moored yachts and other assorted small craft.

We pick up a mooring buoy belonging to Rudders Boatyard just down river from our friend Madeline at Llangwm and having given Heydays a cursory tidy up …we sleep in the cockpit in the sun.

This is Heydays’ home for a couple of months as we all have commitments over the summer, although will be visiting to explore on several occasions hopefully. It is difficult to imagine a more peaceful spot and the sun goes down (after a pint or two at the Jolly Sailor)

with some more focaccia and cheese (OK and some rum…) and the sound of curlews to take us to bedtime….

Footnote: We have a rough plan for September to re-cross the Irish sea to explore a bit of southern Ireland and then cross to the Scillies for a week or so, before working our way home to Lymington along the south coast. Home by end of October is a broad plan…we’ll see.

 

Actually, as two old blokes we have no idea of the girls 🙂 …but while James flies home for family stuff like daughter and granddaughter birthdays, Chris joins John for a few days. They’ll fill in the rest including close encounters with the Caribbean Princess…

Thursday dawns clear and cool. James has left to celebrate lovely Phoebe’s 2nd birthday, and Chris is flying out to join me for a long promised return visit to the fair city.  Time for John to sample some more of Dublin’s public transport system and pick up Chris from the airport – would it match the integration and friendliness of Orkney?  I need not have worried, it worked like clockwork – a good welcome to Dublin.  We dropped off the baggage at Poolbeg YC, and a short walk later we were on the LRT to the centre in time for (another!) lunch at Sweetman’s, using pre-purchased weekly passes.  Lively and bustling streets provided much entertainment – we stood entranced by the nonchalant skill of a drayman flicking barrels off the truck onto a cushion so that the barrel rolled precisely across the road unerringly towards his colleague waiting to guide it down the cellar chute. The traffic seemed to take it in its stride. So much to see that we only just made it to the snug at Lotts – a diminutive and wonderfully quaint bar – in time to meet friends Sue and Dave from Malahide.  Back late pleasantly tired, but entranced by the non-stop activity on the river by Poolbeg  we sat out in the cockpit for quite some time unwilling to turn in!

Heydays Friday 30th June – Dublin

Dave had taken the morning off work and engaged tour guide mode! We had a fascinating drive through the by-ways to and from Dún Laoghaire, including a great look around the James Joyce museum, dropping us off after lunch at

Kilmainham Gaol.  This time we were ‘Just Visiting’ – but the visit was quite sobering imagining the lives of those incarcerated there, and the political and cultural values in the UK at that time which put them there.  Choosing to walk back to the centre rather than jumping on a bus we somehow deviated from the direct route and ended up outside Lotts snug again, at which point dinner seemed the only sensible option, followed by the ever dependable LRT home.

Heydays Saturday 1st July

 

Wanting to explore the north arm of Dublin Bay, and waking to blue skies, we took the LRT and railway to Howth.  A spot of tourist and harbour seal watching from the harbour wall helped develop keen appetites. Spoiled for choice, we settled on wonderful thick haddock soup and freshly baked bread at a market stall. Then it was time to take the train to nearby Malahide – attractive and well-heeled with a great beach and views out to sea.  After trying unsuccessfully to get into the Joyce which had by now appeared on my kindle and a walk around the castle grounds, we enjoyed an early dinner and were back in the big city in time for an evening walk around Temple bar. What an amazing atmosphere – much laughter,music and warm, friendly people.   Chris is loving the Dublin accents!

Heydays Sunday 2nd July

 

Last full day in Dublin – time to see more of the city – so the hop-on/ off bus proved ideal, taking the full circle with a witty, charming and informative driver with his own brand of spin, although we had intended getting off en route….. Round 2 ding ding – this time we stopped to explore St Stephen’s Green, Trinity College and Temple Bar in daylight, stopping to enjoy much Irish hospitality. We just had time to walk to the National Concert Hall for a rousing performance by the Irish National Radio

Orchestra.  Another full day, once again sitting out on our return watching all the buzzing activity on the Liffey.  From cranes that sprang into action moving cargo and lit up like Christmas trees, to trucks ferrying boxes, crates and containers to and from the port, activity was constant.  Ships that arrived at 2300 would turn with precision, dock and be unloaded and gone by morning – it never stopped!

Monday 3rd July

 

The last day began about 0430,  with a low rumbling sound that we felt before we heard it.  Chris jumped up not realising what was going on, but John had recognised the reversing propellers and thrusters of something very large and not very far away.  We watched in fascinated and slightly horrified silence as the Captain of the Caribbean Princess  executed a smooth 360 pivot turn right next to Heydays. Strictly Come Dancing here he comes!  The photos hardly do justice to something that large manoeuvring closer and closer to within 20m of Heydays with no tugs in attendance.

All to soon it was time to welcome James back on board from Phoebe’s birthday celebrations, give Sue a quick tour of Heydays, and say farewell to Chris who would spend the rest of the day with Sue before flying back home to Southampton.  A quick top up of the tanks and we were off to Milford Haven, pursued round both sides of the bay by Sue and Chris trying to find the best vantage points for viewing our departure!

A vibrant and very friendly city with a fantastic transport system and so much more history and culture yet to explore, serviced by a central, friendly, no-frills yacht club marina – we’ll be back again ere long!

 

Tides here (as everywhere, but more so here) dictate everything and we slip out of the marina on  the noon high tide. The late June sun was doing as it should and we had a decent breeze from the North West to see us on our way. With the tide racing out past Anglesey, we were making indecent haste and speeds over the ground of nearly 11 kts kept us well ahead of schedule into Dublin… we were planning to arrive in the early morning light to see us safely up a very busy Liffey and onto our berth at Poolbeg Yacht Club.

As the afternoon wore on, we passed several big cargo boats waiting for a tide into Liverpool and then crossed the main shipping lane round the north west tip of Anglesey. In the early evening we entered Irish territorial waters, but refrained from breaking into Danny Boy or even the rum. Instead, we celebrated with a couple of Pizzas and some coffee to keep us reasonably watchful into the early hours. With the wind continuing from the northwest, we reconciled ourselves to a landfall in darkness….and mugged up on the lights and route in across the bay and up the Liffey.

We entered the bay at midnight to the accompaniment of a light drizzle which became steadily worse and from behind us to add to the joy. The chimneys of the Poolbeg power station could be seen from miles away, even in a rain-filled midnight sky and we focused doggedly on them for what seemed like hours, willing them to come closer.

A pilot boat speeding out to an as yet unseen ship in the bay heralded a slightly anxious final hour up the river. We established radio contact with the harbour authority and were told to keep well to the south of the deep water channel. Fortunately ‘big boat’ also heard us and was aware that we were there which was some comfort when they appeared out of the gloom about half a mile behind us. We finally docked at around 2am after an exhilarating sail across the Irish sea (our third crossing so far!) and sat up for an hour just winding down with a glass or two (we deserved it…).

Footnote: The following morning showed just how busy the port is…and how close our mooring was to the big boats, they looked very big and we felt very small, especially as they were turning round…(more of that in the next post).

Final footnote: The old dock area of Dublin is changing rapidly and is unrecognisable since James and Yee Tak were last here with friends Graham and Madeline on their boat My Foolish Heart. Fond memories of happy times, but Graham is sadly no longer with us and My Foolish Heart lies somewhere in Scotland…

 

This is a chance to relax and catch up on some general messing around in boats. A sunny day sees us happily fettling, mending and moving things around…tough life huh? We wander into town as the afternoon wears on to find that we’ve moved back a few centuries and the medieval festival is in full swing, although we’re not sure if t shirts, tight white trousers, high heels and bouncers (on the doors!) is completely authentic. The medieval banquet looks great complete with candles and wooden platters, but we settle in to the Blue Bell for some live medieval music complete with hurdy gurdy…and electic 6 string base guitar! James is the party-pooper however as he is clearly not into what amounts to a drunken ceilidh!

The tides here are huge and the sand/mud banks become all too apparent as the water rushes out. Not a place to go aground, even in our bilge keeler.

We repeat the process on Sunday (not the drunken ceilidh) having shown John’s grandchildren around the boat and it is certainly a great sight with all the jesters, jousters (truly great horse-riding and hard knocks), donkeys and men on stilts, all under the imposing walls of Edward 1’s castle designed to subdue the Welsh…

This would be a good festival to come back to and the town is enchanting even without plastic swords and chain-mail.

The weather forecast for Thursday is not great for a 12 hour trip East. The plan is to get to Liverpool to see John’s daughter Sarah and the grandchildren, but a combination of tide gate out of Isle of Man and a very restricted tide gate into Liverpool Dock make this a bit fraught. However it looks like a trip to Conwy is do-able on the following day…and Sarah can get there reasonably easily as well.

The forecast is promising SW 5-6 veering W 4-5. This will be a bit bumpy at first but should ease during the day and free up for a nice fetch down to N Wales. We take the 10.15 bridge out of Douglas and head out into a heavyish sea. We take stock of the situation but decide that this is the worst it is likely to be and will improve as the day wears on, especially as we close the shelter of Anglesey.

The wind has more south in it than we expected and while the triple-reefed main pushes us along nicely with a touch of motor, a filled genny just takes us too far to the east. We need to get off Anglesey with enough west in our track to make the tricky entrance to Conwy… The purists would either turn back to wait until we can sail to where we want to go, or go where the wind takes us…we’re not purists and settle in to a bouncy motor-sail.

Heydays behaves perfectly. With the engine just above tick-over and our scrap of main, we are making 7kts through the water. We tuck behind the spray-hood in the warm and dry and let the auto-helm guide us.

Bouncy is probably an understatement and the picture does no justice at all…

Mostly we ride nicely over a surprisingly confused sea, but every so often a huge breaker dumps several bucket fulls into the cockpit…but we are warm and dry!

After a few hours the wind has veered very slightly and we get a scrap of genny out to match the scrap of main…this is great sailing even though a bit bouncy.

All of a sudden the waves ease and the wind frees and we relax for all of 30s until we realise that the continuous and sometimes violent shaking has damaged some compass connections. The autohelm has no idea where it or we are going.

Below is not a great place to be (despite stugeron) and the helm is not great either. However for the next 4 hours James gets regular duckings of green sea water, while John spends half an hour at a time (before needing to see a horizon), upside down in a locker trying to repair the corroded connections. With a very faint coastline coming into view he gets the autohelm working again and we tuck in once more under the spray-hood. Despite the duckings and the upside down-ness, neither of us is worse for wear or even damp. The motion eases slightly but there is no sign whatsoever of the forecast west wind…

Soon we are peering into the gloom to make out the approach buoys and as the first appears we reluctantly dispense with the sails. Of the North Welsh coast we see almost nothing on this fine summer’s evening!!! We berth in what appears to be the North Welsh equivalent of Lymington. This is out of our class, with expensive-looking gleaming boats all around but at least Heydays has been to sea…!

Footnote: The day has one last surprise. The posh marina bar has stopped serving food, but when we explain we have just arrived ON A BOAT, they suggest we go into town for food . “Don’t worry, its only 5 minutes by car”!!!!! Grrr. We get wetter walking back from town (fish and chips on a bench) than a whole day at sea.

 

We’re confused. Hardly surprising for two blokes of advanced years you may say, but we’ve heard a lot about the IoM and its not-quite separateness from the UK, its being a self governing dependency (they pay UK £3m to defend them)…its home to the wealthy and their banks…and its relative reluctance to give up corporal punishment (the birch) for young male offenders. In places it certainly seems like that (not the birch), but a short walk back from the front in Douglas and we are into grand old Victorian houses, now a bit shabby and turned into HMOs. The other surprising thing to us, is the number of boats in the marina which appear unloved and in need of serious TLC. It turns out that despite this being the most expensive place we have visited in terms of mooring fees, the charges for residents are astoundingly cheap (a couple of hundred £ a year…whole boat not per metre..) so it is cheaper to keep them than dispose. As the harbour manager says, “…they can still stand in the pub and tell their mates they’ve got a yacht!”.

Not for the first time, it seems like we are stepping back into the 1950s and we do the whole tourist thing. A £16 day pass on all public transport gets us;

• a ride along the front (could be Brighton in the 50s) on a horse-drawn tram. Watching the world and the sea front go by at this speed is very soothing and James misses his two old horses… ☹

 

• a ride on the electric tram from Douglas to Laxey…wonderful old (1880s) trams in original ash and oak…

This also gives us a chance to have a quick look at the Laxey water wheel (huge) and the remains of the old mine workings, which were once a big source of income and employment.

 

• a ride up Snaefell which is the island’s highest peak. Apparently on a clear day one can see 6 kingdoms…so they say. However it is still a magical ride up through the clouds on yet another old tram…

….complete with unique mountain braking system….

• A ride on the steam train from Douglas to Port Erin. The train is the old compartment model with no corridor and it brings back memories of being a teenager…

…there’s nothing like a bit of brass and steam…

Port Erin is a stunning beach and harbour, with another old Victorian front and some very luxurious apartments higher up.

 

It brings out the romantic side of us (missing Chris and Yee Tak)

But we console ourselves with a glass of Rhubarb fizz in a harbour bar…so this is               where the well to do come to drink and snack!!

• And finally, a ride on the motor bus (should have been a charabanc!) back to Douglas in time for dinner. All this (not dinner or the booze) for 16 notes!

Having made a fairly rapid decision to go, the couple of hours kip is over almost before it has begun and a 12.30am alarm is not terribly welcome. Not a lot is said as we get Heydays ready like a well oiled machine (ha!).

The Harbour Control give us permission to leave and we pick our way down the Lagan, once again not seeing anything much like our arrival. The line of red buoys is mesmerising as we peer into the not-quite-night picking our way past a very active dock and yards. A pilot boat hurries past to meet an incoming big ship and leaves us wallowing in its wake.

There is still light in the North Eastern sky and we are grateful for the reminder that dawn in this latitude is not far away.  At buoy 2 we radio out of Belfast Control area and breath a sigh of relief to be in wider channels. We put two reefs in the main ahead of the promised 4 to 5 and with a couple of rolls in the genny as well, Heydays is soon very keen to leave NI behind and head for the morning sun as it wins its battle with the rising moon.

 

We rush headlong out of the lough at nearly 9kts over the ground thanks to a strong southerly current carrying us past the gradually wakening villages along the coast.

With the islands past and clear water ahead, we decide to each get some kip and take proper watches for a few hours at least. Sod’s law of course dictates that as soon as John is making zzzs below, a line of fishing boats appears over the horizon. there follows the usual period of continual questions…are we on a collision course….are they fishing in pairs…can we pass behind this one….and ahead of that one???

It gets resolved of course with minimal course changes in the end and then the excitement is over. Still, its helps to pass the time until I can cough loudly and get a bleary John taking his turn on watch. The seas are quite confused at times and every so often a string of 4 or 5 breakers comes hissing up over the port quarter. The autohelm is struggling to cope and we steer manually, feeling her respond as the head is pushed off and then bringing her back as we slide down the back of the wave.

Next decision…do we save ourselves a good 2 hours by going through Calf Sound between Calf of Man and the main island? The pilot guide is saying it will be bumpy but will be over (?) in a short time…we decide to go for it. Sod’s law is back and three boats all meet at just about the narrowest and bumpiest point. We are being tossed around and John is concentrating hard to avoid a broach (but clearly enjoying himself). The sailing boat coming the other way is faring much less well and we are genuinely concerned for him. The motor boat….well…we started this blog by saying to ourselves that if we can’t say anything positive then we wouldn’t say anything at all….but he ploughs on through with less than 20m between us…make your own minds up.

…and then as if stepping over a line, all is calm…

As we come round up the east coast of IoM the wind eases and starts to head and we motor sail to Douglas. The rock formations are fascinating as always and then after a glorious crossing the lighthouse beckons us round the final headland and into the harbour with just the Isle of Man Steam Packet for company.

We are too early for the lifting bridge and flap gate into the marina so we wait outside, rafted up next to a boat with a broken boom. They were towed in by the lifeboat having had boom, genoa furling AND engine impellor failure.

We catch up on some sleep in the afternoon sun only to be awakened by the arrival of a mast-less Sadler34. Apparently they lost it around 6 this morning not far from where we were (didn’t see anything guv’). Two Polish lads (in their 30s but lads to us) had been planning the trip round UK for months but were understandingly distraught at losing all rigging, sails and guard wires. They refuelled and then left around 5pm for Holyhead and presumably a train home to Plymouth.

We are grateful to get Heydays into her berth in one piece…

…shame about the attractive deck cushions drying in the sun!

 

We land back in Belfast on a hot and dry morning wondering where Heydays will be and whether we will be able even to get into the marina. Still no response from the harbour admin… Heydays is now rafted up and the remains of the sailing festival are being cleared away with a lovely square rigger still in the marina. A call to the harbour gets a code for the gates and the promise of a response re payment etc.

We have a loose plan to sail for Isle of Man on Tuesday due to favourable winds and so after a quick settle in we set off to see something of Belfast. The Titanic museum certainly deserves its reputation and we end up spending over 3 hours there learning about not just the building and sinking but also about the history of Harland and Wolff and the docks.

It turns out that even in the late 1800s there was a clear sectarian segregation among the workers, with catholics working in the poorly paid flax spinning and rope-making industries and living in 2 room houses, whilst the 3 room houses and skilled jobs were reserved for the protestants.

Equally fascinating, but also depressing was the open top bus tour. This took in all the key sights including Stormont with its imposing statue of (the protestant) founder of separate Ulster, Edward Carson.

We wondered how they would deal with ‘the troubles’, but the commentary whilst being very balanced and non-sectarian, nonetheless tackled the difficult matters head on. It included a visit to all the key areas of West Belfast such as Shankill and Falls road, the various para-military murals, the memorials to the ‘heroes’ from both sides… mostly shown with balaclavas and guns… and the ‘Peace Wall’ and gates.

 

…and it went on and on and on throughout West Belfast…

We had seen pictures and documentaries many times, but we were still both shocked and depressed in equal measure by the wall. In places it is nearly 15m high and one passes through shabby industrial gates which are still shut each night to keep the catholic and protestant communities apart despite nearly 20 years since the Good Friday agreement. Each housing estate seems solely the province of one ‘religion’ or the other and all have high walls and razor wire surrounding them.

The murals are all carefully repainted and nurtured and we saw plenty of Union Flags hanging from protestant lamp-posts together with huge bonfire preparations for the 12 July commemoration of William of Orange defeating the catholic King James at the battle of the Boyne. A big mural says “Culture is not a threat” but we wonder whether in the face of all these reminders plus segregated schools when/if it will ever really end.

Even Crumlin Road Jail remains as a monument to the inability to seek to forgive rather than condemn. We failed to learn from Nelson…

 

Back on the boat we re-do the tidal calculations and decide to make best use of the southerly ebb from Belfast Lough rather than the at first simple option of a day sail…the snag is that it requires a 1am departure. A quick shop, pizza on board and a couple of hours kip serves as our preparation.

With apologies for so much focus on the politics this time, but it still has an enormous impact on Belfast, whether as a tourist or resident.

 

As a footnote to the previous post…having arrived and paid for a day at the automatic machine, we squelch our way into the city in search of a couple of beers and some food. At 9.30 there are some bars open but none serving even a sandwich. An increasingly anxious dash round various shut restaurants does not lift the spirits until we come across a Mexican fast food outlet called Boojum. They are starting to clean down but welcome us with apparent joy as if they had spent most of the day waiting for two damp old blokes to come in. It gets even better when they serve us some beer (lager really). The food was excellent and very reasonable in price.

The next day is spent drying out and doing laundry and exciting stuff in preparation for leaving her for a couple of weeks. Despite repeated calls we still have no response from the harbour admin re an extended stay, but we meet Elliot who almost lives aboard his small yacht in the harbour and Dave the harbour attendant. They exchange knowing glances when we ask about formalities and happily give us codes to get us in and out.

Belfast of course, comes with a set of expectations, assumptions and perhaps even prejudice for those  of us old enough to remember the nightly news in the 70s and 80s of yet another shooting, bombing or knee-capping. We are in what is now described as the Titanic Quarter and it has preserved two of the big iconic gantrys called Samson and Goliath which were used in building the Olympic class ships including Titanic herself. The area is very much like many other up-market harbour redevelopments and links via a new foot-bridge to the Cathedral Quarter with its bars and shops …and cathedrals.we later see a Thai restaurant…

 

But back to the assumptions… whilst waiting for laundry to dry (our reader can probably hardly be contained at this point), Dave and Elliot have a very detailed discussion about the police reaction to the London Bridge van attack. They both are very knowledgeable about weaponry, ordinance and things of that nature. Our reader may be mildly surprised to know that James does not get involved in this particular discussion, but within very few minutes it is so abundantly clear that they are from the protestant community. They clearly intensely dislike Jeremy Corbin (“…obviously as he is an IRA sympathiser…”) and even want the ‘return’ of a further two counties now in the republic that apparently should be part of Ulster. Dave it turns out, used to be in the forces, but not Elliot whose parents moved to Scotland to get away from the troubles. He however returned as an 18 year old “…to be part of it”. We put two and two together and make a few hundred about Elliot and wonder about how he managed to get so much knowledge of ordinance…just askin’!.

The early morning flight out gives us a bird’s eye view of the marina. The issue of payment is unresolved even though we have no idea what they will do with Heydays when the international sailing festival arrives while we are away. Oh well, we’ll find out in a couple of weeks.