Lovely weather

Tigger

Rechromed winch and handle

Fisherwoman's anchor

Jobs done, I sailed the mile or so around into Castlebeach bay. Shelter from the Northelies for the night, and a chance to take Tigger ashore. He likes beaches. Ah, the other downside to August. Boats everywhere. I could not get to my usual anchorage, so tried closer in under the cliffs.  Our Delta anchor dragged for the first time, and when retrieved, it was clear why – thick kelp.

Sorry, Tigger. Back to the mooring, and no beach. Three times I tried to pick up the lines. Ishtar has a high freeboard, and teh bow whips around very quickly in any wind. Finally I managed it, only to drop the boat hook over the side.

Leave it, or unmoor, try and manoeuver between the other yachts in this wind and pick it up with the small boat hook? Well, I’d never know if I could do it unless I tried. I did, and it worked. I really was in smug mode, and put Ishtar back on her mooring first time. I may not have crossed the Atlantic, I have single handedly picked up my own boat hook with another. What’s my prize?

Great start to the weekend. Still, the sunset was lovely, as it almost always is.

Dale Sunset

Rain?

It was still lovely, and the upper reaches of the Cleddau were far more peaceful than the lower Haven. I reached Llangwm around 10:00 – a usual run of around 3 hours from Dale. The new tennant on Tom’s mooring looking very pretty, bobbing in the tide. Her owner, Laurie, nowhere about, unfortunately.

Tom's mooring

 I borrowed a mooring, took Tigger ashore, filled some bottles of water and sat on a bench, looking out at the sunlight sparkling on the water.

I rowed back out to Ishtar, just in time to see this attractive little vessel pass by. I complimented her owner and Tigger barked at him. Barqued?

Llangwm

The tide was now ebbing strongly. I raised the main, sailed off the mooring, unfurled the Genoa and set off after her, frantically adjusting sail for the fickle winds of the upper Cleddau. At one stage I had to wear round to avoid a sand bank, thinking of Jack Aubrey cursing at unseaworthy vessels as I did so, from the Patrick O’Brien novels and films.

Started the engine a bit lower down and was panicked momentarily s I passed under the Cleddau bridge at a very strange and worrying noise coming from the engine, until I looked overhead and noticed they were painting the bridge and the noise was coming from their grinders.

Painting the bridge

I made my way back to the mooring. A really nice sail. It does make it all seem worth it when that happens. Bad weather, getting soaking wet, the constant maintenance and costs of owning a boat, then, that warm glow at the end of the day when you realise the alternatives, several hours in your local shopping centre and endless DIY, are not for you……

A short sail on Sunday. I’d spotted a small bay between Wtch house point and Great Castle head, watch house bay. Good shelter from the North, and I spotted this fine vessel at anchor there:

Watch house bay

Sailed around the corner into Sandy haven, and tried out the new ‘Fisherwoman’s anchor’ at Langoar bay. It held well, and I took Tigger ashore. He found a stick. He’s good at that.

Langoar, Dinghy, Ishtar behind

And so, back. Put the boat to bed, bundled all our stuff and took another soaking in the dinghy on the way back. Yes, it’s August. Yes, there are too many people about for my liking, the weather is usually rubbish and sailing single handed is hard work, but if you can’t enjoy just being out on a boat, in a stunningly beautiful part of the world, there is something wrong with you.

Brilliant!

Should have learned that lesson last year, really. A couple of rough bouncy nights at Porlock would do the trick, you’d have thought……

Weather forecast North or Northwest 2-3 backing West or Southwest 3-4. Louise wanted to go to Caerbwdi. West would be OK, but Southwest meant the wind would get around into the bay. I figured we might tuck in close to the Western edge of the bay, under the low cliffs and avoid it. Wrong.

Left the same time as the Irish ferry and had a pretty good sail up past Skokholm and Skomer, into St Brides Bay. The wind died completely half way across, so I started the engine. After 15 minutes it cut out and would not restart.

Isle of Innishmore, off Skokholm

Louise realised that the Diesel cut off had been left in the ‘On’ position when we left the boat last time, and she had switched it off instead of the other way around. No problems, I’d just bleed the system, pump the diesel and we’d be on our way.

The fuel lift pump on Ishtar is not powerful. And then some. An hour and a half of pumping left me with a blistered thumb and she still would not start. I’d bled and refilled the fuel system several times on Ishtar’s 10HP Bukh, with no problems. This time she would not start. I searched all over the engine and eventually found another bleed point right at the back of the engine, almost hidden by a pipe. 10 minutes later we were on our way.

How else do you learn? You make mistakes, find yourself in a position where you are well outside your comfort zones and solve the problem or give up. The latter is not an option. Very annoying, especially when you fancy a quiet relaxing sail, but these things happen.

Ishtar at Caerbwdi

1/2 an hour later we were at anchor in Caerbwdi. Louise took Tigger ashore, and great fun was had. Then curry was had then beer was had and a glass of wine before retiring.

I like beaches

The wind gradually picked up and backed all night. Being a light sleeper, I was not amused. I knew the Delta anchor was fine, but the banging and snatching was not really what I had in mind. We rose at 06:00 and set off back for Dale.

Louise sailed us back. Some big seas off Skomer as the wind built against the tide. Took Tigger ashore and tried a pint at the Griffin. Even that was miserable. The damp air had put most people off, and sitting in the beer garden in the rain was strangely unappealing. Met another Cardiff yacht club boat, Redeye, on the way back to the mooring. Told him to use Vince’s mooring for the night.

Sunday was brighter. I changed the oil – the outstanding maintenance job. Met with Adam, and watermint for a coffee. A chat with Mike, aboard Redeye (a strangely apt name, after the previous night…..)  and a bit of fishing,

Fishing

unsuccessful. Louise painted the cockpit floor with anitslip paint, finishing another job and we set off home in the car, taking Tigger for a walk on the beach before leaving.

Not much fun, really, but all part of the learning process. We don’t live in the Med, so bad weather, tides, rain and doing your own maintenance is all part of the fun of owning a boat in UK waters.

Yes, it was like that one day, but the rest of the time it can be cold, uncomfortable, frightening, annoying, frustrating and not at all like the dream most people have when they buy a boat. Then there is the maintenance, and the cost of ownership. Every time you look at a boat, something breaks, and every boat owner thinks it’s just them that has a major failure every time they go out. I think this is why you see so many neglected boats on moorings and in marinas – the reality can be a long, long way from the dream.

So, maintenance. We keep a list in the back of the log book. It never gets shorter. Items at the top get crossed off at the same rate that new ones are added to the bottom.

Last weekend it was repairing two sails, ripped during a blow. This weekend it was

1. Oil and filter change.

2. Primary diesel filter change.

3. Secondary diesel filter change.

4. Gearbox oil change.

5. Sort wiring problem making Eberspacher heater malfunction.

6. Redistribute weight to stop boat being nose heavy.

7. Refuel at Milford.

8. Fit new Autopilot after failure of old one during blow.

Yeah. Boring. Dull post. Who wants to read about that? Show us the sunset pictures……..

Dale Sunset

Drill bits?

Wiring the autopilot

Louise changed the gearbox oil and I got ready to change the engine oil. Oops. No filter. That would have to wait. 15:00. We’d spent nearly all day fiddling with the boat. There was a light SW wind. We thought to head out of the Haven, find a bit of sea room and try our spinnaker. I’d flown it on a friend’s boat, and was happy with the cruising chute, but we’d never flown the spinnaker on Ishtar. 3 hours later, off Freshwater West, up she went:

Spinnaker on Ishtar

Angle lifeboat towing

They went straight back out to bring another boat in. Seems teh hot weather had brought all sorts out. We headed for Castlebeach, a secluded anchorage!

Ishtar from Castlebeach

Kinky boots

We did manage a short sail on Sunday – I noticed the boat wasn’t sailing as fast as usual. Maybe the weed I’d noticed below the water was sllowing her. Anyway, we spotted a few nice boats, maybe arriving for the festival of classic yachts next week:

Classic

Another

All in all, not a particularly enjoyable weekend. It all needs doing though, and it is important to remember how much work goes into running a boat. Still, the next time out should be more fun.

We talked about it. I didn’t fancy it. Truth be told, last time scared me more than I was prepared to admit at the time, and I really didn’t fancy it again. But what to do? If we don’t go out with that forecast this time, we never go out with it.

So we decided to head for St Anne’s head and have a look.

St Anne's Head

Curious. Here was a the same forecast as last week, except that it was wind over tide this time, and it was the same as any other 4/5 occ6 we’ve been out in. Great sailing.

So off we went. Northerly meant we’d want a South facing bay to anchor in. South Haven, Skomer was a posibility, but we couldn’t take Tigger ashore there, so we headed up to the West of Skokholm and Skomer towards St Davids head, and a little bay West of Solva called Caerbwdi. I was feeling far less apprehensive now:

That's better.

And now, some dog psychology. Tigger is quite ambivalent about sailing. He likes the fact that it usually starts and ends at beaches. He likes teh fact that he gets good food, can get wet and sandy, and there are usually lots of sticks about.

I'm on the beach!

It’s the bit in between he is not so keen on. The flapping sails, crew fighting and shouting at each other, the crash of the boom and the slap of the waves.

Are you ready to go back to the boat, Tigger?

Can we stay a bit longer?

He has improved a lot in the past few weeks. He has become convinced that dolphins may board us at any time, since he first glimpsed them on the crossing to Ireland. He feels it is his place to prowl the decks, and to repel them violently, by barking and running away.

Caerbwdi is South facing, with some rocky islets to the West of it’s entrance, affording good shelter. 51 52.215N 005 14.890 W. We anchored in about 8m on sand and went ashore. A quiet bay, with a short walk along the coast path to St Davids in One direction, a bit further to Solva in the other.

Caerbwdi

The bay is steep sided, a small strem has cut a deep valley in the peninsula, so the sun sets a bit earlier there than out at sea. We found an old lime kiln – it’s surprising how many there are in Pembrokeshire:

Lime Kiln

The curry was good. Louise rustled up some excellent Chapattis to go with it, and the sea cooled the Sauvignon Bland nicely for later. How could we have contemplated not sailing?

Louise was up early the following day. Wind still blowing a Northerly 5, but the views out over St Savids peninsula towards Ramsey Island were spectacular.

Tigger had a walk and then we set off Southwards at a cracking pace, goosewinging downwind towards Skomer and then back around to Dale:

Downwind sailing

Sail repair

Ishtar had been neglected over the winter, as we looked for a new home, and then moved. The engine needed a good service, and the whole boat could do with a check up, and a clean. That would have to wait.

So, the question remains. How could two almost identical forecasts (apart from the rain) give a very enjoyable sail one week and a horrendous experience the previous week?

I don’t know.

The coastguard forecast, from the Met Office gave SE force 4 or 5, occasionally 6 for Land’s End to St David’s head. We decided to go for a sail out to Skokholm, knowing we could get back quickly if it became uncomfortable. We set off around 10:00 – I stayed below as Louise wanted to plan and execute the trip on her own.

After about an hour and a half I realised the boat was rolling about a bit. I came up to find that we were to the West of Skokholm, heading for Skomer. The sky was leaden, and the wind much stronger than I had realised. I suggested to Louise that it would be better to circumnavigate skokholm and get back – it was becoming uncomfortable.

She agreed and we tried to do that. It was then I started to get worried. A combination of the SE wind, and the tide running North meant that we were being taken towards Jack Sound. Rather than risk that, we turned and headed back the way we had come, around the West of Skokholm.

As we cleared Skokholm, it really started to get bad. The rain was heavy, wind felt a good steady force 6 and there were swells from the South East at about 2m. With Engine and Genoa, I could make about 2 knots, but that was pretty much due East towards Gateholm, not towards St Anne’s head at all. The boat was really rolling about by now so I asked Louise to go below and sit securely – Tigger would not be happy and he’d feel better if Louise was there.

St Anne’s head was 3.75 miles, an easy hour if I could make progress. With only a small scrap of Genoa out, I could not point high, however, and a couple of tacks showed me that I had to get the main up.

I called Louise and we managed to raise the main with two reefs. By now I was certain it was stronger than a force 6, and the swells were still building.

I could point higher now, and began to make progress towards St Annes head. This was after about 2 1/2 hours of getting nowhere, increasingly worried as the weather and sea deteriorated.

I could see almost nothing. The rain reduced visibility so that I could see no land. Navigating by GPS and compass, I tacked back and fore, making 1/2 mile forwards for each 3 mile tack. I didn’t see the Pembroke Ferry until it was almost upon me. The waves, especially on the extreme point of my Southwest tack, were around 4m.

I knwe the tide turned at 17:30. I’d then get wind against tide and, although the tide would be with me, I really didn’t fancy the sea cutting up any more than it was. Luckily, the wind veered and I was able to point to about 120T, taking me past an impressive St Anne’s head, with 5mwaves, breaking crests, and then back, with huge relief, to Dale.

Rough Weather

By about 8am the rain had passed. The wind was from the West and teh sun came out. This did improve spirits, albeit gradually.

Rain's gone

Cruising chute

I actually very nearly caught a dolphin when raising the chute, and it dipped into the sea momentarily. I think that wold have been a first, and maybe not just for me.

Grassholm looked beautiful, as ever

And the setting sun behind Skokholm and St Anne’s head, even better:

SkokholmSt Anne's head

But we were on a mission. Sunday night, and the Griffin closed at 10:30. Tigger quite fancied a run on the beach too. I calculated I’d have 0.3m under the keel at the very end of Dale Pontoon at 22:00. In the event it was 0.1m, but that was fine, on a rising tide.

And so we’d made it. A brief, but extremely enjoyable sojourn across the Irish Sea. Something to celebrate. Two years, nearly, since we’d bought Ishtar, taken up sailing and did our Day skipper practical course.

A pint of Cwrw Haf at the GriffinLouise and Tigger, Ishtar on pontoon

We took Tigger to ‘The people’s park’ again. It seems only fair. He does enjoy the boat, and loves being with us, but we do make the effort to take him ashore for a run whenever we can. We priced a battery, E150 for a 75ah battery. I was not prepared to pay that so we made our way back to the boat.

Louise went off to buy some fresh bread when I heard someone calling me from outside the marina. I let them in – they seemed to know me and turned out to be the father and uncle of a friend from Cardiff Yacht club. They had heard about our battery problems and offered to help. I made some tea, and Louise returned with cake. Billy and Butch went off to get their boat, along with, they said, a battery that might be ok.

They returned after an hour or so and gave us a 90ah Bosch battery, which was in excellent condition. They also gave us a bottle of liquor, which was delightful. They refused any talk of payment and left, with our gratitude, for a couple of hours crusining up the river Suir. Many, many thanks for your gererosity, Billy and Butch.

Half an hour later and we were leaving Waterford. The pilot suggests working with the tide, so as soon as the flood dnded, we cast off and headed down river for Dunmore East.

Leaving Waterford

A gentle motor down the river, past the oak trees and rhododendrons, container terminals and railway bridges, and then Louise fancied a sail. Full sail and 6 knots as the river opened out into Waterford Harbour, we hurtled towards the walls of the fishing harbour at Dunmore East:

Approaching Dunmore East

Rafted UpAs we climbed up over some old boats in very poor condition, I had to climb a ladder with Tigger under one arm. We walked around the bay to a small rocky cove behind Waterford Harbour Yacht Club when I noticed two other day fishing boats approaching Ishtar.Since we had heard that some strong winds were on the way, we'd decided to leave at 04:30. I didn't really want to be in the middle of a raft, so asked the two new boats if they minded if I moved Ishtar back to the outside. They were very friendly and 10 minutes later, we were throwing sticks into the see for Tigger.WHYC were happy to allow a sandy wet lurcher onto their balcony, so Louise and I enjoyed a drink, looking out over the moorings, chatting with the members and watching the sun set as kids splashed and shouted in the sea below.WHYC Moorings

Wet dogs and yacht clubs

Creels and Ishtar

Bought a pilot book on Amazon and set off for Dale as soon as it arrived in the post. We arrived at Dale 14:00 Thursday and set about leaving as soon as we could, motoring out of the haven in almost no wind, the Pembroke Ferry would be there in a couple of hours, it would take us all night.

Ferry leaving Pembroke

Even though it was the first time Louise and I had done a night passage on our own, on our own boat, I was excited. I felt elated as we rounded St Anne’s head and headed Westwards, leaving Pembrokeshire behind and sailin (motoring) off into the sunset. Louise, having done a nightshift, retired with Tigger, leaving me alone to enjoy the late evening.

Sunset, Irish Sea

 The tide was running South, so I stayed 2-3 miles to the South of Skomer, Skokholm, Grassholm, the Hats, Barrels and teh smalls, looking ghostly as the light faded.

Skokholm

There were dolphins every few miles, one emitting a curious barking noise as it surfaced. Never heard that before, and I’ve seen many many dolphins. Louise surfaced just before 23:00. Within 1/2 an hour or so, it was properly dark. I asked her what she could see, and she said she could see the Smalls light. I pointed out three tiny pinpricks of light, vessels running North and South in the Traffic Separation Scheme to the West of the Smalls. Once ‘accllimatized’ to looking for ships, I went below for a couple of hours sleep, leaving Louise to the darkness, and the sea.

Louise, Night Passage

We did two hour watches. In June, it doesn’t get really darl until after 11:00, and the sky lightens again around 04:00, so it was a short night indeed. Louise took the next watch, and the sun was climbing when I joined her on deck just before 5am.

Sunset and Saltee Islands

We were both tired, but strong coffee, freshly brewed, helped with that. A Southerly, force 2-3 sprang up, and teh sails helped our speed, and reduced the roll, as we appoached Hook Point Light, and the Entrance to Waterford harbour. I’m not really sure why I’d been so apprehensive – we sailed off into the darkness, but, it seems, did not disappear over the end of the Earth,  making landfall in Ireland a few hours later, all quite easy and predictable, really, but we were both grinning to be in Ireland.

Hook Point

Dunmore East

 Waterford Harbour, the Estuary for the River Barrow, is about two miles wide, by perhaps 6 miles in length. Shallow, and marked with buoys, it nevertheless takes container ships and cruise ships as well as fishing vessels and pleasure craft. We sailed on Northwards before turning the corner into the river proper, avoiding the river ferry on the way:

River Barrow Ferry

Tigger kept watch, in case the ferry got two close. He then programmed the autopilot to take us up to Waterford:

Couple more degrees to starboard, please.

A little further upstream and the banks started to close in. Ahead lay the power station, and the point where the Rivers Barrow and suir met. Ther railway bridge has a swing section, opening on demand. We may try it next time.

Entrance to the River Barrow

The River Barrow/Suir reminded me of the Cleddau at Milford Haven, or the Avon as you approach Bristol. Deeply sloping wooded banks, with Herons and wildlife, interspersed with industrial features befitting a major port.

I am enjoying myself, honest

Waterford container port

A little further upstream and the River Suir splits to go around an island. we stayed in the northern channel, as the pilot suggested, and were soon approaching Waterford itself. We’d been warned about strong currents, but there were neap tides, and Louise handled Ishtar beautifully under power. We were soon tying up on Waterford visitor’s pontoon.

Ishtar at Waterford

Tigger exploring The People's park.

Relaxed and happy, the three of us made our way back to Ishtar. Louise had spotted a curry house, and a friend, born in Waterford had recommended a bar. We wandered through the streets, just enjoying the sights:

Church, Waterford

 The curry was excellent, as was the guinness. I was distraught when, around 10pm, a few chaps started playing the banjo, guitar and bodhran.

Guinness

They were very good, but I was exhausted, so we made our way back to the boat, and yet another stunning sunset.

Waterford Sunset

What a brilliant day.

The day dawned windless, or almost so. At 10:00 the Dale racing fleet set off, doing about 12 knots, cumulative, between all of them:

Racing fleet

Enjoying a sail ?

We sailed on, up past the Cleddau bridge, up past Lawrenny turning to head back just before the tide. We managed to shut the engine off and sailed, well heeled for about 20 minutes towards Angle before the ‘variable’ wind died again. My father was chuffed, even more so when Louise dished up Tirimasu with Fresh cream.

Tirimasu

We arrived back at Dale at 17:00 and, 2 1/2 hours later back home in Briton Ferry. First real shake down sailing of teh year, and very successful.

We set off after some hot coffee around 07:30, passing Dale Fort in the early morning sunshine.

Dale Fort

 We got the sails up before rounding St Anne’s head. Decided to go well to the West, then run North, past Skokholm and Skomer, before turning into St Brides bay and heading for Solva.

The wind was variable, but we did manage to get the cruising chute up for an hour as we approached Skokholm.

Skokholm

I’d already adjusted for the watchfulness one has to have when in  major port like Milford, and that includes maintaining a radio watch. It’s not just in the Haven you have to be on your guard, though:

Close shave

As we turned NorthWest from North, heading across the jewelled waters of St Brides bay, a nice Westerly sprang up, and we scythed along through the waters at better than 6 knots, with the tide. Then, halfway across the bay, a 180 degree swing in the wind in about 30 seconds, falling in strength as it did so. I could see solva ahead, partially hidden by the island of Green Scar.

Solva, behind Green Scar

Green Scar, with Black Scar (left)

Tom Bennett’s ‘Sea guide to Pembrokeshire’ suggests passing to the East of Black rock (with an iron post on top) when entering Solva. There was little swell as we approached, but the entrance did seem narrow:

Black rock and Solva

Mooring boys, looking out of Solva