A bit of a clash as they say, between the need to push on north and prudence/comfort. We had planned to make the trip along the coast to Ardglass, but the forecast was not at all conducive or welcoming, especially the predicted sea state after a day and night of near gales.

One option which we briefly discussed before bed, was to wait a day and then make a longer passage directly to Bangor, bypassing Ardglass on Friday. It would mean a 3.30am start to get the ebb out of the Lough and also to get a favourable tide through Donaghdee Sound and round to Bangor.

A 7am wake-up shows no change in the forecast and so we make the decision  to stay and leave on Friday. Back to bed with a coffee  and we plan to take the bus to Dundalk. We’re told that it is much more together than Newry across the border, although Newry has better shopping!

The morning is bright but cold….John finally decides it’s socks weather…

A morning walk along the pontoon disturbs the local heron…

The bus to Dundalk leaves from Carlingford village by the harbour…

…where we watch youngsters from the local adventure school throwing themselves into the chilly waters, presumably for fun!

We are even more fascinated by the local sauna by the beach as a group of men (they are all men), rush out of the hot box and get into the lough….why?

We’re not sure if King John was fond of throwing himself into the sea, but he built a castle here and was one of the few Kings of England to visit the island of Ireland.

The bus is busy (as have been most buses so far), and it takes us out round the headlands of the Cooley peninsula which we passed (bumpily) yesterday.

We arrive in Dundalk thirsty…

…and then hungry.  So there’s nothing for it  but to have an all day breakfast at Ma Brady’s.

We’re immediately taken, by the extraordinary amount of murals and street art, all created by different artists, and telling real or imagined stories of Dundalk….

What is nice is that despite being a ‘border town’ and having its share of violence during the troubles, there’s not a balaclavas clad man with a gun in sight…

…although there are a few swords.

Another big difference between Dundalk and anywheresville in UK, is that the high street is busy, full of independent shops….and they’ve taken the time to coordinate paint…

There’s an old tobacco and stuff factory, and we wonder at the art work writing. Apparently the line is from Robbie Burns, his link with Dundalk is that his sister lived here, and the company, searching for a name for a new cigarette called it Sweet Afton…

With an early start tomorrow, we hope on the bus back to Carlingford, and have a quick look round this lovely village…

The route back to the boat takes us past the little restaurant/bar at the marina….it would be rude not to…

A few last minute checks on tides, wind, waves etc, and then all ready for an alarm tomorrow at 2.45am!

The wind and rain overnight has passed through, leaving a bright morning…albeit with the promise of more to come.

Final preparations around the boat, and we slip the mooring just on High Water, to take the first of the ebb away from Malahide…

The SE winds overnight have kicked up a bit of a swell, which is breaking over the shallows at the entrance, but nothing to bother us…

With a fresh SW breeze we are almost on a dead run and opt for just a genoa. We have quite a large one, but with the benefit for us of roller furling. It loses something in performance as it is progressively furled, but without tame gorilla’s on a heaving foredeck to change sails, it is a great compromise.  We briefly consider using the cruising chute…..even bigger, but with the wind set to veer and increase, we take the easy way out.

Heydays soon settles in to a decent 6 knots through the water, and we even have time to muse over the weather fronts coming through, bringing some amazing clouds and even a rainbow.

This part of the country is quite flat, with what appears to be nice beaches. Lambey island is soon astern, and we so want the lighthouse to be called Rockabilly, but the Irish in a rare dour moment call it Rockabill…

As the morning wears on, the wind is most definitely at the top end of the forecast. Soon, we’re experiencing quite frequent gusts well into F7 territory. As we roll away some genoa, we’re grateful that we didn’t use the ‘chute. As it is, the autohelm has a hard time keeping pace with waves which are building nicely over the port quarter. Every so often, a larger pair come through, and Heydays lifts up her skirts and surfs down into the trough at well over 8kts. It requires quite a bit of concentration to keep her heading where we want to go.

The only boats we see are a small trawler heading home and a couple of coasters heading into Carlingford Lough…no mad dogs as far as we can see.

By early afternoon, Drogheda and the Boyne are well astern, and the Mountains of Mourne are clearly visible, and it is time for us to start to look for the lights and buoys to lead us in.

If we had thought that landfall would bring us an easier time, we were sadly mistaken. Even in what we thought would be the lee of the mountains, we are still getting gusts of over 30kts, and enough of a swell even across a short fetch, to dump the occasional lump of salty water over us.

As we make our final approach to the little marina at Carlingford, a sudden strong gust sets up a mini waterspout. Sadly we’re too busy with fenders and ropes etc to get any sort of shot.

Once safely moored, we’re into a couple of gins plus snacks to tide us over before dinner, and reflecting on what was a much bumpier ride than expected.

It’s also odd in some ways, to be moored on one side of the Lough in the Republic, while just a few hundred meters away is Ulster and the UK, with a freight ferry from Heysham to Warrenpoint….and all the attendant nonsense about trade with the EU, borders and customs…

As the sun sets over the mountain, we still get a reminder of what is outside, as a sudden down draft or squall comes whistling through, well into gale territory, even in this supposedly sheltered spot.

The wind, which has been steadily F7 for the last 4 days, finally eased overnight,  producing a better night’s sleep all round. The whistling, flapping and general clanking (from other boats) eventually becomes quite wearing.

Dawn broke with sunshine and hope that we’ll actually get our keels wet today.

Around 10.30 we finally get the brilliant sight of the crane moving into position.

We follow along almost reverentially  at something of a funereal pace, as Heydays is gradually manoevered  into position. We top up with diesel, and the engineer comes aboard to make final checks as we’re lowered into the water.

It’s almost possible to hear the old girl sigh as she floats in her natural environment once more…

With thumbs up from the engineer and the sea staying outside the boat, Heydays is back under her own power…

…and we’re soon back alongside, ready to get her ready for our much delayed journey north. With the tide gate missed for today, Wednesday will be the start…

We pop into town for a quick lunch…

…and a last look round. Malahide has been a great place to be holed up,  but its time to leave. We have to mention again Therese and the team in the yard, who have gone out of their way to help despite the technical problems. We hope that some flowers and a few cans will go some way to showing our appreciation. 

We hope that the next post will be from somewhere else…

So FedEx were supposed to have delivered the part for the hoist by now, although to be fair, the weather is atrocious. Even if they manage to get the hoist repaired today, it would be a very tricky lift in these high winds, so we’re resigned to have to wait until Tuesday. Even then, we will need to carry out several checks around the repairs, and there is no chance of getting the genoa bent on. It’s looking increasingly likely that it will be Wednesday before we can get the water moving under her keels. We’ve revised passage plans several times already, but even if we make it up near Ratlin island, there is no guarantee that the tides and weather won’t conspire against us.

This is a much more promising forecast, but we’re tracking the low to the NW of Ireland very carefully! The jet stream (and hence the weather patterns) seem to be tracking more southerly earlier in the year than previously. This is the weather we would normally associate with October…

The direction of the flood (rising tide) and ebb (falling tide) changes  in the north channel. This is the narrow stretch of water between Mull of Kintyre and Ulster. In the right (wrong?) conditions, this can set up some unpleasant standing waves and overalls, so timing is everything. The pilot books are clear…..get it wrong, and the best outcome is that you get spat out the way you came. Timing over the next few days will be everything…

*late update….the part arrived and will be commissioned tomorrow morning. So definitely no sailing until Wednesday. It’s a tough life, but we resigned ourselves to an early evening drink (s) and an early bird dinner at Sale et Pepe. This turns out to be a great meal, very reminiscent of the atmosphere at the old Logis hotels in France.

Early to bed, ready to welcome the yard staff  first thing.

The last two or three weeks for Heydays crew has been spent in the bosom of families and grandchildren, a festival or two, and for Chris, the celebration of a big birthday. In the meantime,  Heydays has been lifted out and had a new stern gland (re-packed to be precise), together with a flush through and check of the cooling system, a check of the cutlass bearing and a general clean up of her bottom.

She was due to be lifted back in on Wednesday, but the hoist promptly failed, requiring a specialist part from Italy. Therese, the manager in the yard at Malahide was brilliant at keeping us up to date, but with flights already booked, three of us decided to head back to Ireland anyway, ready to make a getaway once the part arrived (for Chris, the lure of quality time with grandchildren was a bigger draw). With Heydays still on dry land the yard made arrangements for us to have access so we can stay on board…albeit having to traipse out to the loos. They also organised for the night watchman to let us in, with ladder access to the old girl.

Still  hopeful for the part arriving Friday, and for a Saturday getaway, we caught the night flight from Southampton to Dublin. An hour delay meant that we didn’t get to Malahide until around 11pm, but everything worked as planned and we finished off the evening with the odd rum or scotch…

Having left at the end of August in shorts, T shirts and sun cream, it was something of a shock to find that we needed warm clothes and jumpers.

Friday morning gave us a chance to inspect the old girl more thoroughly…

…and mostly looking good.  The copper coat has done a great job so far and the propeller seems to be fine as well.

Although there is a frustration at not being launched, and we glare menacingly at the hoist every time we pass…

….it’s an ill wind as they say. Malahide is not a bad place to be holed up.

The part is now due to arrive on Monday, but the winds are not to be trifled with at the moment…

….the ill wind allows us to get on with several jobs which had been on the list for a while, and we take a bus into Swords which is just near the airport and has both BandQ and a marine chandlery. 

The bus only takes coins (not notes and definitely not cards). The driver looks at the shrapnel which Yee Tak has in her purse, about €3, and says “don’t worry, just give me that”….this amounts to roughly half what we should be paying.

…but even better, we get to the town centre where the bus terminates and ask where to catch the bus out to the out of town mall for B and Q.

“Stay there” he says as the bus empties. He then shuts the doors and drives us in our own double decker to the mall. The generosity, and loose interpretation  of rules of the Irish never ceases to amaze us.

Dinner at a heaving bar called Gibney’s…

Saturday, is very blustery, with winds whistling and wining in the rigging, but its fine, so no excuse not to get on with jobs.

With a polished hull, transducers antifouled and reseated, we decide to make the most of a break in the rain to take the train to Howth and stretch our legs.

The little harbour is actually quite a major fishing port…

…and the dockside is lined with fishmongers, fish restaurants and the most amazing hardware/chandlery. It’s a struggle to get John out, but we replace a tired fender which gets some quizzical looks on the train…

We buy fish and oysters for our lunch tomorrow,  and settle down to an early dinner in Crabby Joe’s….just a light seafood platter and some tempura prawns…

Some hardy souls have been out racing, and we watch them returning with varying degrees of control. Interesting to note though, that anything looks easy if you have a crew of 5 or 6 tame gorillas…

A harbour seal watches us lazily…

As for any sailing content in this blog? We’ve talked a lot….what is doable, what plan B and C look like if the winds keeps blowing through etc etc. The stretch north up to Fair Head is ok in a blow….especially if the wind stays in the west, but the north coast past Ratlin Island is not to be triffled with. Lots of water from the Atlantic trying its hardest to force its way between Ireland and Scotland. We’ll make decisions closer to the time.

You would have thought that I would have known how to upload videos by now. Well, I have, just….

So here are just a few from the recent past,  but I’ll try to include them in the main posts next time…

This was a very atmospheric moment, listening to a pipe and drum band by the dockside in Waterford as the sun went down…

…and then we went in search of some more music in a bar not so very far away. A really talented musician making full use of loops, but playing such a range of instruments.

As we left Waterford and motored down with the ebb, a pod of dolphins decided to play….or were we just disturbing their fish? Bottlenose we think, unless either of our readers knows different…

….and occasionally we actually sail…

I’ll get better at the commentary….hopefully!

Friday was spent peering at the engine and researching the various possibilities around our suspicions. The engineer will visit Monday,  but we wanted to get as much info as possible first.  There were some very kind and knowledgeable people on both Facebook and especially the Moody Owners Association,  who had some valuable insights. The rest of the day was a bit domestic, making use of the washers and even dry cleaners on site.

Lovely atmosphere in town in the evening, lots of relaxed al fresco dining….but all outside tables packed away by 9pm…

With a weekend ahead before the engineer comes, we decide to take a train to Dublin…on the day that Oasis come to town! It’s rammed more than usual, but still a lovely city nonetheless.  We’ve all been before, and have ‘done’ all the usual touristy stuff. So we just wander along the Liffey and stop for a pint, before turning back south and a late lunch/early dinner in Marco Pierre White’s place. Another pint at O’Donoghues….used to be a tiny bar where the pints were passed over people’s heads….now expanded and clearly we’re some of the oldest there.

We finish off at St Stephen’s Green and just sit and people watch for a bit. Again, a lovely atmosphere in the early evening….then train home and possibly a nightcap…

Sunday starts with one of the more glamorous boaty jobs….replacing the seals on the sea toilet.  Actually it’s not too bad, and after a hosedown, its almost a pleasure in there. We decide to take train along the coast to Howth…along with the half of Dublin not waking up with hangovers after Oasis.

It’s a lovely fishing town and a real intergenerational mix just out for Sunday…

Lots of buskers and a radio museum which makes us feel really old, as lots of the exhibits we grew up with.

Monday, and at least there is good news from the engineer. He doesn’t believe that there is a problem with head gasket or heat exchanger. He’ll check again when he changes the coolant. Relief all round, especially for the wallet.

We fitted in a quick visit to Malahide Castle, complete with another funny and informative guide.

John and Chris have left for domestic duties so James and Yee Tak are currently in charge before the old girl is lifted out on Wednesday for power wash and scrub, stern gland and cutlass bearing, to get her all ship shape for the cruise up to Coleraine in September.

With the genoa down and stowed below,  plus a final tidy up and polish, Heydays is ready to be left for a few weeks. We have time for a last walk out along the estuary just after low tide. An on-shore breeze seems to be creating some breakers over the sand bar at the entrance…note to selves for when we return…

We’ll return to the blog in a few weeks.

The engine has behaved itself so far although we have not used it much above a tickover. This, combined with the other bits and pieces which have arisen, convinces us that the sooner we can make it to Malahide (which was our planned stop anyway), the better. This will give us time to hopefully arrange for some work to be carried out before we return in September.

With that in mind, we nose away from the mooring in the early light and head out of the river, with only some cross gulls and a lone cyclist watching us go.

With a dead calm and a flat sea, we’re motoring slowly into the last of the ebb, before, hopefully, we catch the flood up to Dublin. The seascapes are beautiful…

…and there is still early morning mist over the Wicklow mountains…

As Arklow is left astern, we munch on some breakfast and another brew of coffee. We’ve opted for the inshore course along the coast, i.e., inside the many shoal banks which litter this part of Ireland. Some sea fog descends and for a short while we’re in our own circle of grey. But just as quickly as it came, it lifts and we’re back to counting headlands.

A small boat waves cheerily, heading in the opposite direction….against what is now quite a strong flood…and a few fishing boats appear….

A seal allows us to pass close by and just watches us with complete indifference…

With Wicklow now astern, we can start to see the headland of Dun Laogharie and beyond it, on the other side of Dublin Bay, the big lump of land that is Ben of Howth. We start to keep a watchful eye for ferries and larger stuff, both from Dun Laogharie and from Dublin itself.

As we’re about to cross the southern traffic separation zone, what was a speck on the horizon becomes ever larger. We alter course to pass it at 90 degrees and watch gratefully as its aspect changes and we see the port side, and it passes harmlessly astern. On the other side of the bay, a fast cat approaches, and this time we change course to pass well behind.

Ben of Howth is very distinctive and a positive hive of activity of small boats and dinghies…

Just north of Howth is the rocky island of Ireland’s Eye. Lots of gannets seem to use it as home and alongside the little terns of one sort or another, we think we spot a fulmar.

And then, with the very last of the north going tide, we’re on the approach to Malahide and a date with the engineer.

Trundling down the well marked channel, we pass beaches and swimmers and the kind of watery leisure activity not seen as much further south.

So finally, we’re moored up in Malahide marina, and a lovely welcome from the staff here. We get to speak to the engineer about the various issues we’ve got and they’ll come and look at the boat Friday or Monday morning.  They seem both knowledgeable and helpful, so hopefully we’ve got a way forward…perhaps.

It’s a shame that we’re here about 3 days early, not because this isn’t a great place, but because we have had to miss out on Courtown, Polduff and Wicklow…perhaps next time!

For now though, until 11 September, Heydays is snuggly tied up, and our sailing is over for a while.

Our little cruise along the South East and East coast of Ireland has been brilliant for the most part, not just the sailing and great places, but outstandingly for the warmth, wit and general friendliness of everyone we have met. Too many clichés spring to mind, but Ireland for us is great….although as Denise, the harbour master in Coleraine, makes clear, the best is yet to come. We look forward to planning north and then west around the Ulster coast in September.

We had planned to cruise rather more slowly up the East Coast in a similar way to the south, but with niggling doubts over the engine and some north in the wind at the end of the week, we decide to push north sooner. Arklow if the tide holds and the wind is fair.

The 5.15 alarm goes off while it is still dark….this can’t be natural. But with a forced ‘good morning ‘ to each other, we each go about all the usual tasks, both personal and boaty, with little being said…a smoothly oiled machine (in our dreams!).

With fresh coffee inside our mugs, we slip the mooring and head off to the diesel pontoon which is fortunately a self service.  A couple of small fishing boats are already on the move as we head out in the company of another yacht. This is like Piccadilly Circus compared to everywhere else so far.

Heading back out towards the Saltee Islands, we turn East and immediately feel the benefit of the young flood tide and with a decent puff and full sail, we are, for us, screaming along at least over the ground if not through the water. The clouds are a bit threatening and with the sun refusing to show, one by one we all end up with more layers in the chill morning.

In less than an hour, Carnsore point is abeam, with its windfarm and slightly desolate air like many such headlands.

With calm seas and a steady breeze, we can take turns to catch up on sleep, and still the land and, in the distance, Tuskar Rock slips by…

The only action required, apart from watching for pot buoys, is to alter course slightly to pass astern of the Ferry coming out of Rosslare and bound for Fishguard? Pembroke? Or even Cherbourg?

A couple of boats have been keeping us company since Carnsore point, at times ahead and then at times slipping astern. We opt for the inshore passage among the many banks and shallows along this section of the Irish coast and comfortingly, so do they…..but who is following who?

As the breeze becomes lighter, so the clouds part and the sun drives off the previous layers of gear. We enjoy an enormously satisfying run with goosewinged genny. Not normally easy, but the conditions are perfect…

Our companions continue running, presumably to the flesh pots of Dun Laoghaire, and we turn in to Arklow.

The large green buildings must be the most glamorous sewage treatment ever…

And then here we are, through the entrance and heading up river…

The marina is the most expensive yet, and we are rafted up, but the location on the river is fine. We snooze a bit, shop at the local Aldi a bit, and then after some nosh on board,  set out to taste the highlights of Arklow.

We are conflicted, to be honest, the town was once hugely prosperous due to its explosives factory and has since faced some decline. The old docks are replaced by a huge gated community and a big shopping centre, but over the river in the old town, there are lots of boarded up shops and an air of decay. We search for a small pub with the type of warm welcome we’ve had so far, but nothing comes remotely close to Cronins, or The Anchor, or The Oar , or…..

We have a pint at Christies, but it feels soulless, even sitting by the river.

Back on Heydays we invite a couple over  for a chat. They are from Oban but have visited the outer Hebrides and know it well. We tap them shamelessly  for local knowledge and learn about their trips in their Rustler 36. We get the low-down on their amazing voyages and wish them luck for their early start tomorrow (4am). Tim and Ann in Restless, are off to Spain….around six days of sailing and will then do Madeira, the Azores and the Carribean.

The alarm at 7 is slightly unnecessary, as a combination of sunlight streaming in, and the sounds of Waterford coming to life, have already entered the collective consciousness of Heydays. The plan is to have the boat ready to go as soon as the current in the river shows signs of reversing. High water here is 8.40, but at 8 there is still a 3 or 4 knot current in the wrong direction….no point in burning diesel for the sake of it…

As we start to prepare for a day at sea, we work through the normal glamorous routine….getting rid of rubbish, topping up with water and making sure that things that are likely to move don’t. We’re also building a list of jobs which will need doing over winter.

The stern gland, which for our less boaty reader keeps water outside the boat, is starting to drip a bit more frequently than desirable.  A few more turns on the greaser sorts it temporarily….but it definitely needs doing. We’re also experiencing a bit more vibration from the P bracket (holds the prop shaft), and it is added to the list. These are the occasional jobs that pop up every few years, and in our case, we’ve not had to renew the stern gland at all, and the P bracket bearing has given us 10 years.

However, our usual check of cooling water showed a smudge of oil on top. This is not good news, and try as we might, we can’t escape the most likely cause to be a blown head gasket. This is not a job for which we have the tools or the spare part. There are no marine services in Waterford,  but Dunmore East at the mouth of the river, 8 miles away, is a more likely place.

We decide to motor very gently to see how the engine behaves. There is no sign of water in the oil, no overheating and the engine is running smoothly on all 4 cylinders, so no big threats at present, and we’ll keep a close eye on the temperature.  With the engine just above tickover, and a now 4 knot current driving us, we’re making rapid pace down stream…and some options.

Waterford in the sun is delightful as we say goodbye, although we now have an accompanying slight anxiety. 

…and then all of a sudden, the bottlenose dolphins are back…

They stay with us for at least half an hour, and what a lift they are for the spirits….just what we needed.

Further downstream, the previously deadly quiet docks on Sunday, are now a hive of activity…

Waterford it seems is a busy coastal harbour, and the villages and little car ferry we passed in the drizzle on Sunday, are now much more cheerful.

So the options as we approach the mouth of the river are to pull in to Dunmore East to see if there is an engineer who can run some tests, or to continue to Kilmore Quay, which is a bigger marina with engineer on hand. Since there is nothing untoward, and although there is virtually no wind, we decide to continue as planned.

At Hook lighthouse we make a turn East…

…and head to the Saltee Islands which  are just south of Kilmore Quay, and which are visible on the horizon. With the engine just ticking over and little wind, we settle in for a slow and relaxing day in the sun.

The approach to Kilmore Quay is shallow and we’re not far off low water, so even though we only draw 1.4m, careful concentration is needed, especially as we seem to be heading disconcertingly close to a beach full of swimmers….and the entrance is very narrow…

The harbour master is as funny and helpful as they have all been so far.

“What’s your length” he says.

“Just over 10m” says James

“OK, 10m” says the harbour master

“10.5 to be exact” says honest John

“I’ll not ask ye again, 10m ” says the harbour master….we keep quiet after that and nod happily.

At home, just over 10m elicits a wolfish grin and a charge for 11m.

He also points us in the direction of the pub, the shop, the chandlery, and most importantly the engineer.

The little harbour itself is a funny mix of leisure craft and fishing boats with attendant chandlery and engineering, sitting next to a lovely little beach with the usual ‘chippery’, as they seem to say here, ice cream and buckets and spades.

Sadly, we’re not spending more time here. The engineer, though helpful. Is hugely busy trying to get fishing boats back on the waves, but he provides some reassurance about pushing on north to some other people he knows, provided we keep a watchful eye on the engine. We had planned a few stops and anchorages up this coast, but decide to head for Arklow, which will provide a few more options and opportunities to ponder….so an early start to catch the tide….again!