23rd July – 6th August

You can see Northern Ireland across the sea from Port Ellen, hazy and blue, it looks almost within reaching distance. Realistically though, Rathlin island (a wee island just before northern Ireland) was a good 20 miles away, and it took 5 hours to cross and get anchored. There are some strong tidal currents around the island which can create overfalls depending on the wind and time of day, but we were lucky as we passed, and on top, had a beautiful anchorage for the night. After a walk around the village, we got back to an enormous seal laying in the middle of the bay, splashing around in the sunset. Paddling slowly to the boat we watched her slip into the water and disappear, reappearing meters from the boat, and then leap up and with a big splash dive back down in the water. She did this several times, and over the next weeks many others would play with us as we paddled to and from the boat in the dingy. Surprising and scaring me by snorting behind us at night, following us into harbours and popping their heads up right in front, diving and splashing us. They were our dedicated guides, keeping us company in all sorts of weather, and all sorts of anchorages.

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Two tired sailors approach land, 
patient anchor greets the sand,
you who guides the sleepy skipper, whiskered nose and sturdy flipper, 
wise as water, 
calm and clean,
watching the boat while we dream

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The following morning we sailed 52 miles to Belfast in beautiful conditions, no waves, sunshine and good wind, arriving in time to paddle up the river into town and find an Indian restaurant. This is the first time we have eaten out since leaving Germany, and I think they felt sorry for us sharing a beer and one curry…  and the staff were so lovely and gave us a free Dosa, and two pints of Cobra as we stayed late and chatted with them about sailing and car mechanics- one guy had done an Ausbildung in KFZ mechatronika in Nordrhein-Westfalen. On our paddle home, a bright light was shone on us from above, which made sense only once we got back to the boat and a group of policemen were waiting for us. Had we stolen the dingy? Been drinking? We had been seen on CCTV but then they lost sight of us, they were very worried about us paddling at night…  we thanked them for checking, as we were worried about people stealing our dingy too.

Luckily for me, we arrived in Belfast in the middle of a traditional Irish music festival with events every evening throughout the town… the following evening we went to The John Hewitt and saw Roisin Chambers who´s voice I will never forget. Being in the city was novelty for a couple of days, we could shower, go to Lidl (which feels like home away from home) a few charity shops and a few pubs before deciding we missed the unpredictable waves and cleaner water of the open sea.

We left the sticky marina with its brown harbour water and sailed 63 miles to Ardglass where we both got the flu. There were no sheltered anchorages, and we spent two nights in a harbour before sailing out through a narrow passage on the biggest waves we have experienced on the whole journey. No seals this time.

That week was slow and feverish as we slept allot, sailing only to keep moving or keep safe from the wind. In Newcastle bay we were warned by a local boat that our anchorage would dry out due to the tide, and then he proceeded to have a boat party with three others tied on right next to us. We weren’t invited, but we also didn’t end up on land…

Over the next two days we sailed 69 miles to Howth, a halbinsel on the north end of Dublin bay. On the way we spent a night in a shallow bay which we entered in the fog and appeared empty until morning when we noticed many other fishing and sailing vessels that we must have got very close to on the way in…

In Howth we met Phoenix from Falmouth who has a beautiful wooden boat, and was anchoring in the sweet bay surrounded by lush green trees and houses on cliffs, seals that would surprise you at night, and a tiny waterfall. It was such a treat to meet another young sailor, and we drank red wine and chatted about the coming storm, rust, Scotland and Orcas, close calls with big ships, and we even had some mutual friends around Stroud!

Speaking of coming storms, there was a coming storm. Actually two. The main problem was that the wind would turn 360 degrees, making no anchorage safe. We were still feeling too unwell to sail, and the harbour being way too expensive for us, (60€!!) our only option was to sail around the island as the wind turned, and hope the swell wouldn’t be too strong. It was pretty turbulent, and the sail would swing dangerously as the wind came from behind, so we motored in the end.

By the second storm we had made it to Wexford where we tried to tie ourselves to the wall,  the first time we ran aground, and due to the tide, we realised nowhere on the wall would be deep enough… In the end, we tied onto two huge fishing boats, where much to Niels´s alarm they spoke to him in Dutch- which he thought was an Irish accent that he couldn’t understand. The winds were definitely the strongest we had encountered since leaving Germany, 39 knots.   It also happened to be the day my great auntie and uncle came to visit us, bringing baskets of homemade cheeses, fresh bread, honey and chillies which we enjoyed in the shelter of the boat hiding from the last of the gales until the sun came out in the evening. Later that day as Niels got the boat ready to sail and did our paperwork for crossing over to the UK, I had the important job of getting choco museli. I got a bit distracted on my way back in an Irish pub with live banjo and soulful sea shanties. The guys playing were incredible, in their 20´s, wearing trackies, not the kind of guys you would expect to pull out a tiny flute mid performance and start busting beautiful, elf-like melodies. Niels joined me and we shared a Guinness, before finally leaving the harbour at high tide.

On the 6th of August we sailed 63.7 miles over the Irish sea, from Wexford to Milford Haven in perfect conditions. South wind and sunshine carried us along at 7 knots, and when the tidal currents began we were going 10! A school of dolphins surrounded the boat, playing in the wake and diving very close to the bowsprit, also knows as ´dolphin basher´ which makes sense now…