Kinsale, meals and music!!

In the course of the day we heard a whole handful of music genres. A river-dance group was performing down by the pier. In town we listen to street-musicians ranging from ten to fourteen years of age, incredably enthusiastic and profesional folk music performers. Yesterday evening these same younsters played in the village square. One of them, a lively little elf of about 10 is a wiz with the concertina and harp. He sings and dances jigs too. In his jeans and tennis shoes. And all with a big smile on his face.

Later we hear some Django guitar sounds through the iron bars of a pub garden gate. We change course and grab a pint and a table. There The Date Brothers, Ian and kid brother, Nigel, are playing. And playing well! Sometimes Ianwill close his eyes and sing a fatalistic sad blues, or pull out his rather antique trompet and blow a blues out of that. We just have to mention Jon Larsen and "Hot Club de Norvége" to them. Yes, they know of them. In fact more than we do.
In the evening we walk into a Wine Bar and have a glass while listening to a girl sing some standard jazz songs. About three tables, a bar and a keyboard. A friendly, lively place. And more music to eat and drink by.

Kinsale is supposed to be the cuisine capital of Ireland. We won't protest there. Obviously meals and music go hand in hand here.

Sailing to Kinsail with "Lille Per"

Still black night at 4am, the lights of Kilmore fade to starboard as we sail west. Meanwhile the day lightens to the east.

The morning brings a good sail in northerly beam winds. Our never tiring, ever dependable, "Wind Pilot" windvane is now christened "Lille Per". He's our third crew. The original Lille-Per was Ørnulf´s uncle. He taught young Ørnulf the ropes in his 35 ft. Colin Archer cruising boat. No motor.

We arrive at Kinsale at 18:30. Gliding into its pastoral bay. Sort of a duck-pond. The docks are occupied, but we tie on to a friendly boat whose home port is Kilmore Quay.

Kinsale, outside Cork, is our launching pad for the Bay of Biscay crossing, a milestone. There are no conversations here, we discover, that don't include the weather. This summer seaside town, with its brightly painted houses along winding lanes, is a popular place for dinner dates. Most of the roads are lined with pubs, cafés and restaurants.

Kilmore Quay, still.

The oil filter changed, the weather improved, we're preparing to leave. Looks like another 4am departure. And about a 16 hour sail to Kinsale. That's the plan.

Still at Kilmore, the train to Waterford

Or Vetrfjord ,Weather-fjord, as the Vikings named their settlement by the River Suir, back in the 900's.

And weather there is plenty of today,too. Splashy rain everywhere. A good day to spend in "Waterford Museum of Treasures", a modern and entertaining historical museum. The Vikings get a lot of attention. In one breath they are marauding pirates, in the next, founding fathers. Of Ireland's first urban settlement: Waterford!

We do a walking-tour of Waterford, too. Slightly less rain now.
There we learn about a Waterford man of varying fortunes, Thomas Francis Meagher. As a young man he champions the cause for an independent Ireland. It is he who designs the Irish flag. For his efforts he is sentenced to hanging, drawn and quartering. Then he is pardoned. And sent in exile to Tasmania. Four years later he escapes. He then finds his way to America where he eventually becomes a brigadier general and is highty decorated in the Civil War. He leads the "Fighting Irish" for Abraham Lincoln. Meagher survives the war to become the Govenor of Montana.
A long way from Waterford to Helena.

Waterford has a good looking waterfront. Just two weeks ago it was host for the "Tall Ships". It has a pleasant, re-cobbled town center, too. The two main cathedrals, the Catholic, Ireland's oldest, and the Protestant one were both drawn by the same architect.

"Waterford Crystal" is world renowned, so we took a bus out to the factory and had an hours tour seeing blowing, cutting, engraving, of designs, all done by hand. Fabulous creations, first class! In fact no seconds are sold. The enormous chandeliers, at a slightly lower "visitor's center" rate, were not bargain-basement prices. Well, unfortunately, the "Babette" is rather unsuitable for shipping crystal to Flekkfjord.
Via the Caribbean. Sigh.

Bus-trip to Wexford, partly-sunny, blowy Wednesday

Ørnulf attends to the oil leak and I bump along on a bus to Wexford.

The road is a winding green tunnel of high hedges and leafy trees, with occasional openings onto rolling fields, ripening yellow now. Cottages, some thatched, all bright with summer flowers dot the road.
Wexford is a pleasant town by the sea. As the bus pulls in a Viking ship sets out. But not to sea; it's back in harbor by 2:00pm. And greatly celebrated at the quay. There's an Irish theater troupe on the quay, some with enormous Viking heads, some Vikings with boats about their waists; they look like big, wooden soup-bowls. Lots of Vikings are jumping about, carrying huge colorful shields aloft.
A children's Irish Dance troupe are performing on a large plywood stage. So precise and professional and so tiny!

The Norwegian Vikings aboard the ship are from Sandefjord. Sailing here they stopped at Farsund, "Babette's" home harbor. We had a look at their ship there earlier this summer. They sailed from there over the North Sea directly to the Orkney Islands, to Kirkwall, then to Islay, the Isle of Man, down Ireland, to Dublin before sailing further to the south-east, to Wexford. Next stop, London.
We wish them fair winds as they sail on!

Back at "Babette" our Volvo-Penta boat mechanic has sorted things out. The oil filter gets the blame for the leakage and a new one will replace it tomorrow.

South Coast: Kilmore Quay

04:00: We're off for Kilmore Quay. We're prepared. Prepared for a yawning, drowsy start. We have sandwiches and tea made the evening before, tides worked out and way-points entered into the gps.

But it's a soft start. Calm seas, almost no wind. Another long stretch to reach the south coast in time to have some days to relax and get ready before crossing the Bay of Biscay.
We appreciate the calm seas as we approach Kilmore Quay as noon. We reach the last stretch of races over shallow seas at high tide, now ebbing. As we sail through the red and green buoy marked opening, St. Patrick's Bridge.

The harbor entrance is all but swallowed up by big fishing vessels lining the high stone walls. They are spouting water, their fishing gear hanging far out over the side. We slide through and are kindly helped to a berth by friendly sailors and the Harbour Master.

We've arrived at a cosy seaside town in wind-blown sunshine.

To Arklow, a " Denmark Sail"

This time the alarm rings at 03:30. Yawn, and we're off by 4am. This is getting earlier and earlier. The night is still full of stars on the starboard side of the mast, a pale dawn is on it's way at port.

We follow along, in line, as freighters are on there way both in and out of the red and green trail of the channel. They've been waiting for the tide. These tides are really steering our lives! Now we've decided to have some time down on the south coast, near Cork. Even a year is a finite length of time so we're sacrificing the East Coast, both Belfast and Dublin, to rush past them on our way south.
Pampered as we were this weekend it takes some time to regain my sealegs. Especially in the rough seas we sail into this morning. But as we sail the seas calms. My stomach, too.
We arrive at Arklow in the evening, buy diesel, eat a pub dinner, get "Babette" ready for tomorrow and go to bed.

Alarm set at 03:30 again!

Back to "Babette"

First, 8:30 mass at St. Peter's. We meet the brother of our Bangor boat-neighbors here, at church. Small world!
Then Peg serves us all a big Sunday breakfast. Now we're seven. Their son Christopher and the kids are here. The "Babette" sailors relish this peaceful, restful day, reading the Sunday papers. A real treat.
Come evening we are again back on "Babette" studying tide tables and weather reports.

And preparing to leave at 4am, tonight!

A Hike in the Heather

So lovely to wake up in the Baron's Bed! Imagine, everything is level, no rocking, no waves banging at the walls and no slanted, bouncing, floors! Instead of having to make meals in our roller coaster kitchen, we're well fed and looked after by Peg. We can sit on a sofa, without having to hold onto a rail and enjoy engaging conversasjon. On every subject under the sun. Luxury.

Michael Carville arrives with two Australian friends and colleagues. Soon he has us all off on a hike. Huffing and puffing past Fiddler's Green, through the purple heather. At the top there's a great view of Warrenpoint, the River Newry, over to Carlington Loch and beyond. The fog and mist lift, the sun comes out, showing off the hills and river, bright colors sparkling in the sun. Look at that huge boulder lying on it's own at the top. They say a giant threw it up here. All the way from Scotland. I'm sure he had his reasons.

Back at the house we have an evening of more good food, thanks to Peg. Lively discussions follow in Irish, Australian and Norwegian accents. But we all agree: it's been a great day.

A tide to catch: to Carlingford Loch

A look at the tide-tables, then a quick getaway from Ardglass, 8:20am. It's a motor-sail in light, or absent winds. That means time to repair the spray-hood. I sew most of the way!

Now we're exactly over the watery boarder into the Republic of Ireland. We just manage to get to Carlingford Loch by high tide, 13:oo. Entering at low tide would get "Babette" stuck in the mud. There's a long trail of red and green buoys that lead you through the channel of the River Newry to the marina. Larry, the Harbour Master, helpful and informative, has a berth for us in this rather special marina where a big, old cargo-boat is a center piece. Right in between the pontoons and the marina buildings. There's a nice pub/restaurant here with good food and a great view.

Today we are invited to friends at Warrenpoint. This is back on the other side of the River Newry, and back into Northern Ireland. But the border is just as "invisible" on land as at sea. A sign of progress.

We're soon welcomed into Charlie and Peg's home. There we install ourselves in a room with a fabulous view of the garden. Green. That's a color we lose at sea. In a sailboat there's not much elbow room, either. Here there's more space in the bedroom than in our entire boat. And the floors all horizontal. And don't bounce.

Peg dishes up the first of many good meals. Spoiling us. This is our first venture onto land, leaving "Babette" for two nights, since sailing away from Flekkefjord. It could become a habit.

But there's still a great deal of talk of weather, ports and tides. Pulling us back to sea.

Bangor, Northern Ireland

Bangor Marina is enormous. Especially when coming from little Port Ellen. There are pontoons from A to Z, and a Reception like a commando center. There are fabulous showers, even a bathtub! The washing machine room includes a book-exchange. This morning we have errands on the agenda: washing clothes, a trip to the chandlery, auto-shop, pharmacy, grocery. And then we're off again.

At 14:00 we leave the marina in a fresh breeze, 4 to 5 beaufort, from the north. We have following winds and spread genoa and mainsail, down to Ardglass. A sunny and pleasant sail alongside green and rolling Irish hills. Several other boats from Bangor have the same idea and we all parade into the harbor towards evening.

Meeting other sailors and hearing their stories is what we like best about coming into a new harbor. In Ardglass we're invited onboard "Aloe Vera", and have a beer with an interesting solo-sailor from Conway in Wales.

Choppy seas to Ireland

From Port Ellen, Islay to Bangor: The alarm clock rings at 04:30. Climb into layers of wool, then bumblebee yellow raingear. The wind still fills the harbor. So we follow a strict order of untying the lines and manage to extract us from the pontoon, releasing "Babette" into the grey, choppy waters.

To reefs in the sail and a west, veering northwest, wind, whitecapping the waves. But soon the weather calms and we can shake out a reef. The tide is with us and we're going great guns, at the most 10kn. Later on the wind dies, the sun warms up a perfect summer's day. At 4pm we enter Bangor Harbor. Our first sail over to Northern Ireland.

The natives are friendly. We're soon sharing a beer with our nearest neighbors. It seems their home port, Ardglass, is our next port of call, so we have plenty to talk about, even common friends!

Waiting for the weather in Port Ellen

Fives and sixes, on the Beaufort wind scale, are delaying us. All the sailors in Port Ellen Harbour are studying their tide tables and weather forecasts.
And waiting for a fair wind. We hope to be off early tomorrow morning.

Heading for Ireland.

Seven Whisky Distilleries and one Round Church

Our liquid economy, no, not whisky, greatly improves today. The local Bank of Scotland kindly exchanges the Cyprus pound notes we'd unfortunately received in Norway (A pound is a pound?). We can now afford the half-hour bus trip to Islay's largest town, Bowmore.

In the middle of town there is a spectacular circular church from 1768. It crowns the top of a hill and overlooks the town and the bay. They say it's round so that the devil won't find a corner to hide in.

Main Street is lined with white-painted shops trimmed in bright colors. We can recommend the Tea Room of the Harbour Inn. Great scones and a great view of the little fishing harbor.

We took a tour of the Bowmore Distillery, Islays oldest, from 1779. It's right in the middle of town, also painted white, with black trim. We bought a souvenir from the factory store, uh, for the ship's medical chest.

In the evening we went to a local cultural event at the Laphfraig Distillery. Irish pipes, flutes, song, guitars and a slide show of Islay and Jura... and a drop of the local produce. There was a little lottery, too. We didn't win, but had a great time!

Lovely Port Ellen

We depart Craigh at 9:15am in a drizzly fog. I am yellow rainwear from my boots to my sou'wester! The radar is the skipper’s best friend today, too. The rocks, skerries, passing boats and buoys all make a shady appearance, sliding across the screen.

Later the fog lifts; the sun breaks through on calm seas, just broken by tidal streams ripples. The islands of Jura and then Islay gentle in the mist to starboard.

We enter Port Ellen's lovely round bay at 18:30. And manage to get a place on the inside of the pontoon, in just two meters of water. Two slots are blocked off because of tomorrow's arrival of the cruise ship, "The Black Prince".

Apparently filled with British birdwatchers.

From Dunstaffnage to Craigh

Our oil leak turned out to be the newly changed oil filter, not quite tight enough.
Now it is.

Departure, 11:30 into the wind, mist and thickening fog. Quite a bit of close navigating of riptides and falls in the narrow, shallow passages. We run them at a 9kn. gait, and arrive at Craigh (that's pronounced, Croove!) at 16:30. The place names may look a bit forbidding, but just treat it like French: ignore most of the letters and pronounce the words like the natives.

Nice marina, nice pub.

The Locks: Outboard motor ensnared !

It’s 8am and our departure from Banavie Locks. Going down the "Neptunes Staircase", five locks. And then another two, the last locks. But just before we are finally locked down we are witness to a scary situation on the opposite side of the lock. As the water rushes out and all the boats surge in the swirling currents, a line tangles itself around an outboard motor. The British boat owner struggles with the ropes. Not willing to risk a limb or the whole boat he reaches for a knife. Suddenly it all sorts itself out. The motor jumps loose and lands on the deck with a thud. All’s well that ends well.

Click-click-click! Hey, what's all the commotion?! Inside the locks we're getting a monkey-in-a-zoo feeling! A busload of tourists all aim their cameras at us, trapped inside the locks. We'll all soon be in Estonian photo albums! The tourist-tables are turned!

13:45: We depart the Sea Lock in a procession of Swedish boats down the Loch Linnhe. We're sailing in light almost head-winds. But mostly motor.

Motor?! What's that sound??

A look into the motor-room gives us a sinking feeling. There's oil everywhere! Adrenaline’s up and, quick, quick, oil down the funnel.
We turn off to the nearest marina: Dunstaffnage. It's crowded, with wall-to-wall sailboats. Inside, at about two meters depth, we are happily invited to tie up alongside of a wooden boat with character. The crew of two invite us over for cheering up:

Two pleasant women with two steaming cups of tea for the new arrivals on "Babette".

Top of the locks

We're climbing the locks: Kytra and Cullochy, then Loch Oich. There's Laggan, then Loch Lochy and we're at the top.

Going down: Gairlochy Lock. On the VHF radio it sounds like the boats are all calling up "Clikkety-ckackety Lock". A grey and rainy day, right in the face. Now we know we're really and truly in Scotland.

We arrive at Banavie at the top of "Neptune's Staircase". At 15:30 we take the next five locks down.
And who do we see here! It's "Bengari II". And in the boat, old sailing friend and train engineer, Bengt, fra Bergen. We have good memories of sailing in Shetland in 2003 and meeting "Bengari II" with its crew of two. This time Bengt is alone, between crews, and we take a nostalgic nightcap.

And relive and exaggerate old times.

Fort Augustus locks

To catch the first batch of boats up the locks we're up early It's breakfast on the run. Then up, up, up,up the four Fort Augustus locks. Then tie up on the top. We're getting to be experts at throwing ropes up three or four meters!

We get a nice visit today from Lossiemouth. It's Mary Covendon's daughter, Janet Trydall. She and husband, John have an ocean of sailing behind them. Lots of boat talk, and promises to meet again soon. On our way back?
Today we meet Johan from Hammerfest,too. He's just arrived from a solo-sail, back from the Caribbean, and from 16 years of sailing alone around the world. His self-built boat has some motor problems now, and he's willing to sell his creation and mobile home for only £3ooo. A great buy!

Our evening is spent at The Bothy Inn. Good pub food and good Scottish tunes played on various guitars. Ours Swedish friends, Jonas and Urban, introduce us to the boggiest whiskys available.

Nessie

At 11:30 we're going through a swing-bridge and up the locks, on another sunny day. We're following "Mitar", a huge Russian catamaran which has some difficulty manoeuvring in the narrow locks. An English sailboat, "Solan", ties up alongside us, giving us plenty of line handlers. As we pull the boats through the locks Terry, crew on "Solan", has a romantic tale to tell. His childhood sweetheart is now a widow in New Zealand. And that's where Terry is heading now.

From Muirtown we tie up and go shopping at Calley Marina's chandlery. Along the other side of the canal we can see a Norwegian boat. "Sesam" from Harstad. Its skipper, Lasse Nordang, has built the boat himself. Tired now of sailing the seven seas he thinks he might retire to the Mediterranean. Maybe remove the mast and sail the canals in France.

We go up the last lock, Dochgarroch, and then motor-sail the Loch Ness, right against the wind. We don't we Nessie but we notice "Solan" tacking nicely, about halfway up the loch.

At 8:30pm we tie up at Fort Augustus. No problem finding a lively pub with music and a pint of good ale.

Tropic sailing in the Moray Firth

We're up at 7am to make the high tide, and exit Lossiemouth Harbour.
At 7:30 we're out on the Moray Firth, a beautiful sunny dawn. No wind, no clouds. We let "Babette" drift in the glassy blue-green sea. As we eat a leisurely breakfast at Café Babette". With a royal view towards the Seacove cliffs, where Mary Hovenden lives.

We crank up the Volvo Penta at 10am, and head towards Inverness and the Caledonian Canal. Another tropical sail in Scotland, now towards The Canal.

We are inside by 15:30. And go immediately up two locks. There we tie up at Seaport Marina. And meet two nice Swedish boat-neighbors, Urban and Jonas. As with all new boat friends they are generous with their experience and knowledge. They give us some good Navtex advice. Good weather reports could be life saving.

The News, from Lossiemouth

We start the day with a big Scottish breakfast at an outdoor cafe on the quai. Another tropic day in Scotland.

But we have trouble paying for our breakfast. Ørnulf gives the young serving girl a handfull of pounds, bought at our local bank in Norway. Which the café doesn't accept. Wrong pounds. Do they only take Scottish pounds here. "Sorry, we only take British pounds here." A new look at our cash reveals funny letters and no Queen. Apparently we have been given pounds from Cyprus!

Today we are invited to visit a good friend's mother, Mary Hovenden, at nearby Seacove. Mary has a lot to relate. We've been sailing incommunicado since leaving Norway on the seventh of July. But when almost 90 year old Mary starts talking about explosions in London and the Olympics we are confused. Are her thoughts wandering back to The War? I'm afraid it's the "Babette" crew who aren't quite with it! Soon we're caught up on the latest tragic events. We think back to that lovely, peaceful morning, "Babette gliding gently out of Flekkefjord, on skimmering blue waters. Who would have imagined that bombs were soon to explode in the London Underground.
Mary lets us check our e-mail on her Mac. She's glad she learned to use the computer at the age of 79. "Or I would be so isolated today" she says.

As Ørnulf and I take a long walk along the nearby cliffs we look out over Moray Firth. That's where we'll be sailing tomorrow.

Another North Sea Crossing

My night watch starts at 03:00. Fog starts sifting in midwatch, growing tighter as we go. Shame that the radar, new last season, doesn't function. The pea-soup is giving us about a meter's view over the bow.

But about 07:30 it lifts, like walking through a curtain. A bright sunny day ahead. We celebrate another North Sea crossing, and have an English breakfast: bacon and eggs. The wind dies down now and we motor-sail slowly on calm waters. The guitar comes out, a nice break from reading instruction manuals for navtex, new gps, the windvane, all the navigation instruments, and more.

We'll reach Lossiemouth this evening but must wait for high tide to enter the harbor. Meanwhile it's a Mediterranean cruise, flat blue seas, blazing sun.
10pm: We enter Lossiemouth Harbour and tie up. After my fourth and Ørnulf's sixth North Sea crossing. Time to celebrate with an anchor dram.

Gannets, Dolphins, Puffins and Oilrigs

Great sailing, with winds going northerly as we sail more or less west. In The 40's Oilfield we get some company, a friendly bunch of dolphins swimming circles around the boat. We go forward and watch them round the boat under the bow. Smiling up at us. Gannets and Puffins also out to greet us. The sea is a turquoise blue, a nice change from the usual lead grey.

The oil rigs golden in the setting sun.

"Babette" leaves Flekkefjord: pictures

We're off!

A beautiful sunny dawn. Great day to sail away.

09:30: We're off. Flat seas, no wind, as we motor out the Hidra Sound. Out of the sound we set sail as the sea breeze picks up. We point ourselves towards Lossiemouth in Scotland, via the 4o's oilfield. Soon we're sailling great guns, about 6knots. The seas are still flat and we have boiled salmon for dinner. The wind increases towards evening, and I don't know if I can trust my sea-legs yet.

Ørnulf takes a watch for me, and by morning I'm fine.

Farsund to Flekkefjord: ready, set...

It's raining.

We're driving to Farsund, the car full of sailboat stuff. The new gps just installed. So that the new Navtex can function, undisturbed. There's going to be a lot of manual reading over the North Sea.

14:10: We motor-sail to Flekkefjord, light breeze, right on the nose.

Arrival: 19:00. The local newspaper, "Agder" is there on the dock to have an interview with us. Well, then I guess we can't chicken out of this project. Last minute preparations til midnight. We both manage to get a good night's sleep, our first aboard "Babette".

Our new home for the next year!

Not quite ready yet

Today, July 1st, is the date we'd set.

Well, now we hope to be off by Wednesday, the 6th. If the new gps arrives.

And gets installed.