Oxwich Bay to Portishead

I woke up to a choppy Oxwich Bay. This was all a bit weird as the chop was coming from the south east and there had been little wind, especially from that direction. The other boat that had been anchored in the bay had left: presumably they had caught the early tide up channel. Scavenger still looked tempting, but the waves were lapping its base and it clearly wasn't up for it. I raised the anchor for the last time on the trip and set off to Portishead.

We had a light wind as far as The Mumbles and we sailed reasonably slowly almost to the lighthouse. I wasn't too fussed about making good speed at this stage as we would get caught by the spring tide against us as we got out of Swansea Bay anyway: there was little point in getting caught there earlier: it made no difference.

The wind died off The Mumbles and we had a frustrating motor towards the Scarweather Sands. What was annoying was that there was still the chop around. Every time we hit a wave, Cervisia slowed down and we didn't seem to get very far. I listened to the South Borsetshire puppy show on The Archers and put up with the conditions.

It was really obvious when we crossed the Scarweather Sands that we left one type of water (the clear inviting stuff) into another type (the muddy estuary stuff). It was a really clear divide between the two types of water. I guess the sands cause this change in the water and the water causes the sands. The sands are probably there as a deposition feature between the faster running waters of the Bristol Channel proper and the slacker waters of Swansea Bay. My original plan had been to anchor on the Scarweather Sands until the tide slackened and I could make meaningful progress eastwards. However when I was scouting around for a good spot, the wind started and I decided we might as well try sailing on the spot (going as far forward through the water as the tide took us back). To start with we were going backwards, but as the wind strengthened, we could make slow progress tacking eastwards. Eventually we passed the South Scar buoy and we seemed to be off, South Scar thankfully passing behind us into the distance.

There was more motoring up the channel as the wind died again. We motored past Nash Point towards Barry (where I saw a dolphin in the muddy water: I have never seen one this far up the channel before). The wind started up properly again at Barry and I hand steered (to get the best speed out of Cervisia) from there back to Portishead. We were really lucky in being able to sail in a dead straight line all the way back. It doesn't usually happen this way. One thing I had been worried about was running out of fuel. I had made calculations that I might just be able to make Portishead on the half tank and 5L can of diesel I had left, but it was looking touch and go. I'm glad we had the wind so we could sail instead.

I finally called Portishead marina up at about 10pm, just half an hour before the top of the tide (i.e. just in time). St. John welcomed us back. When I stepped onto the lock pontoon, it had been the first solid land I had been on for 4 days (since Dun Laoghaire on Thursday morning). It was a pretty weird feeling. Although it had been nice to be on Cervisia for that length of time, it was also nice to have the space to move around on land. I parked Cervisia in reverse first time on the pontoon, went to look for some food in Portishead (not easy at 11pm on a Sunday) and then went to bed. An early morning and a bus trip to Bristol would see me back at work on Monday morning.

It's pretty good to have Cervisia back in Portishead. Although it is nice to be away, it is a bit of a worry having her a long way away and knowing that you are going to have to sail her back in a defined week. I think I made the right decisions about how to get her back, but things could have been a lot more difficult if the weather had been less kind to us. I think the rest of the sailing year on Cervisia will mainly consist of weekend trips to Penarth. This is no bad thing.

Skomer Island to Scavenger / Oxwich Bay

We had a good night at anchor at Skomer. I think one of the other boats didn't have as good a night as us. It had started north of us and ended up south of us. I don't know what happened to them in the night, but it probably a sorry little tale.

It was a pretty windy morning despite us being in the shorter of the cliffs. There were puffins, Manx shearwater and gulls buzzing cervisia, whose decks were liberally plastered in puffin dung. Getting the anchor up required a couple of attempts. I had obviously got a good placement. We were off by 0900.

The first bit of the sailing was really good. We had bright blue skies and a good fresh wind from the port quarter. We absolutely flew along, despite sailing against the tide. These conditions continued all the way to Linney Head where the wind suddenly changed direction completely and then died to nothing. This was very perplexing given the conditions we had had before and the weather forecast. I guess of there was anywhere to have to motor, this was no bad spot as the scenery is very good along that bit of coast: there are lots of rock climbs to admire. Strangely three seemed to be no climbers on any of the routes.

We had an excellent dolphin display in Carmarthen Bay. It started off with a few dolphins jumping around Cervisia's bows, but later on there were dolphins jumping all around the boat: some of them jumping clean out of the water. You could see little groups of them all around. It was so cool. I love the Bristol channel dolphins.
The dead calm continued until we got under a rain cloud at Worms Head. It started raining and it looked like it was going to be a miserable couple of hours to the anchorage. However there was a really good wind associated with the rain and we tanked along really well into the headwind. The wind dropped again once the rain stopped, but we were still able to sail along quite nicely in a light wind to Oxwich Bay where we are now anchored.

I have applied the Beale school of anchoring. This entails getting the whole lot of chain and rope out rather than calculating an exact amount. This seems to work really well. The rope seems to lie at a really nice angle (that makes it look like Cervisia is pulling on the anchor). This is not meant to be the best anchorage in the world but the anchor seems fairly well settled and it is really calm here. The best thing about this anchorage is the rock architecture. The nearest bit of rock to us has the classic route Scavenger on it. I would love to get up tomorrow and climb it on my birthday. It will be high tide in the morning though (unless I get up really early: which won't happen). Now I am more confident with the anchor, it would be really nice to come to places like this and go climb some rock.

Tomorrow might end up being a big day. I can't really think of anything clever to do to ensure that we make it. I could get up at 4am to catch the early tide, but that doesn't classify as being clever. If we can make good progress against the tide in the morning then we stand a chance. Hopefully we will have a good wind, but I don't dare to hope too much. I have worked out that if we get to Penarth / Cardiff (which is totally feasible), I can leave cervisia there for a few days and then pick her up one evening next week.

One thing that feels a little odd is that I have been on board now since basically Dublin: that is 3 full days. It will be 4 days on board by the time I get to portishead. It is odd how a small space like Cervisia can end up becoming your world.

The Sun goes down on Oxwich Bay. The crag in the background is Little Tor: home to an excellent little E1 5b rock climb. Cervisia is anchored.

Cahore Point Ireland to Skomer

I slept ok for the first 4 hours of the night, but then the wind got up and cervisia started bouncing around. I was not anchored in a place at was suitable for north east winds: there was little choice. The main thing is that the anchor held and cervisia is alright. I got some rest for the other few hours. When I got up at 430, there were clearly some waves around and there was a force 3 wind. The sun was just coming up and it seemed like a good time to get moving.

Cervisia was really straining at her anchor. I thought that it might be a pig to get out, but it was fine. I then had to stow the anchor (not easy on cervisia at the best of times) while cervisia was bouncing around in the waves.
The Irish coastguard were forecasting calm winds. Indeed the local observations on the radio were for 2 to 3 knots of wind. We must have been in a magic windy spot as we had a good force 3. This wind stayed with us most of the way across the Irish Sea, only giving out for an hour somewhere in the middle. It was a gorgeous day with sunny skies and it was pretty warm too. We made good progress on a broad reach most of the way. When the wind died, I got the spinnaker out which helped a lot. It looks colourful too.

It was a good job that we hadn't gone down Cardigan Bay (the original plan) as they were firing missiles into it from Aberporth. I think the dolphins might have been on holiday too. I saw none in the Irish Sea.
It was good to sight land at the far side. I recognised Carn Lidi a St David's head. After that all the islands and hills started to make sense. I knew that the tide was going to turn against us and so had the cruising chute up to get past the South Bishop lighthouse. We had realy good sailing with this up. I don't really know why I took it down. Maybe I was being over cautious. Taking it down was a big mistake as it meant that we lost speed. Coupled with a poor navigational choice (going too far north into Broad Sound between Skomer and Skokholm Islands) meant that we got well and truly stuffed by the tide in Broad Sound. The first time we tried to get through, it was clear that we were going to hit Skomer rather than make it through the sound (Skomer is rocky and uninviting from a shipwreck perspective). We took a more southerly course the second time and made it through very slowly. There must have been a 6 knot tide against us at one point. Unfortunately we had to do the sound under engine to make sure we got through.

I saw some other boats in South Haven at Skomer and so assumed that it must be ok to anchor there. I got here after sunset and anchored in the gloaming. My first attempt at anchoring didn't work (my first failure). It was obvious that it hadn't worked and second time seems to have been lucky. The iPad is going to be on anchor watch duty again tonight!

Skomer is as beautiful as ever. It is a really special place. The seas around it are full of birds. There are puffins swimming around in the water around the island. There are birds squawking outside as I write this and I heard some seals on the shore earlier. It's a really special place.

The aim tomorrow is to get to the Gower. We'll have to see how that goes. I can't face getting up too early and so the day will start with a slog against the tide before the tide takes us round the south of pembrokeshire to Tenby.

Anchored at Cahore Point

A nicely place anchor at Cahore Point. I even fashioned a chaffing protector out of some spare hose to protect the anchor rope.

[text written a couple of days later]

I obviously have not yet mastered my iPad alarm clock. Instead of waking to the sound of cuckoos, I woke up as the sun was getting high in the sky. It must have been 0930 when I got up. I had had quite a big day yesterday, so a lie in was not unreasonable.

It was a difficult day to sail. There was not much wind. We sailed a bit out of Dun Laoghaire and in a few other places, but there was also quite a lot of motoring going on. Other boats were motoring too. The wind only really started to kick in when we got to the anchorage: Cahore Point. The problem was that the wind was from the wrong direction and was going to make the anchorage a pretty bumpy affair.

The Wicklow hills looked good on the way down. The Great Sugar Loaf is a fantastic feature: a little mountain that really does need climbing. Some of the higher Wicklow Hills looked like rounded boggy things. That isn't to say that they aren't nice hills: just that they are rounded and boggy. The other interesting spot was Arklow Hill. This is a roadstone quarry. They have quarried most of the hill away. There is a separate port for the quarry. It's odd to see an almost decapitated hill like that.

The weather started off dull and overcast, with the Wicklow Hills covered in low cloud, but by the end of the day it was a real scorcher: bright blue skies and it got pretty hot. This made lounging around on the boat quite a pleasant affair.

[text written at the anchorage, on the day]

Cervisia is now anchored off a place called Polduff at Cahore point. I have quite a lot of chain and rope out on the anchor and the anchor seems to be quite well set. The forecast is for variable winds with some northerly component. This is not exactly the best wind for this anchorage as it is exposed to northerly winds. I think the winds will not be too strong and we should be ok. I will have the iPad on anchor watch, so if we do drift, it will wake me up. If the winds pick up, it will probably also get wavy and this will also wake me up. I think we will be ok. It is nice being at anchor again. I am not sure I will touch dry land again until Portshead!

I am hoping to get up quite early as it will be a long crossing. That was my aim this morning too, but we didn't set off until 0930. I was tired after the day in the Wicklow Hills and I haven't yet mastered my iPad alarm clock!

I am hoping that I get woken by the time alarm and not the anchor alarm!

Wicklow Hills

Wednesday was forecast to be a windy day and the wind was forecast from the south west. This would have been a pain to deal with so I decided to go walking instead. The tourist information place told me that there was one bus a day into the Wicklow hills and that if I was quick, I could catch it. I did a quick rush pack, got on the train to a place called Bray and then caught the bus with minutes to spare. The bus goes to a place called Glendalough. This is one valley over from the highest mountain in the range. Glendalough is famous for a collection of really ancient churches and monasteries. It is in a beautiful setting at the base of a valley sweeping up into the mountains. There were a lot of tourists there!

I started the walk up the Glen, but was drawn to the ancient churches. It was a really interesting spot with several ruined churches, ancient graves and a really interesting rapunzel tower that had no door at the bottom, but had windows at the top. What was it used for?

I walked high up the south easy side of Glendalough and then back via some mines and the lakes along the valley floor. Even though I didn't get up a summit, it was a really nice lout windows walk. It would be interesting to know what they were mining. I suspect it was gold as I think that there is gold in that area.

I planned to walk along the Wicklow Way back to Bray. This looked like a hilly 20 miles back. I think this estimate was right. What I hadn't really counted on was that I had already walked about 10 miles and was quite tired. I also didn't have much water. It was however well worth the walk. There are some really nice changing views. One of the best bits was view to a mountain called something like Lugulla. It had a big granite cliff on it. There must be some good granite climbing in Wicklow. I ran the downhills and walked the uphills in order to make the best time possible. I needed to do this. Towards the end I got up to the summit of the oddly named Djouce Mountain. There were good views over the northern hills and down to the sunlit Great Sugar Loaf mountain (which despite being just 500m is a great mountain shape and would be a fine objective). I then ran down to the Powerscourt waterfall - which is really quite impressive and unexpected. Once back in the valley, I found that there were no public footpaths and I would have to go back along the roads. This is a real problem with Ireland: there is good scenery, but you can only really enjoy it from the road, apart from the odd exception such as the Wicklow Way.

I reached a town about 4 miles from Bray where there was a good bus service into town. The was a garage next to the bus stop and I gorged myself on ice cream and sparkling water. I was quite dehydrated. From Bray, I caught the train into Dun Laoghaire, bought some diesel for tomorrow, cooked and then went to bed. Tomorrow the plan is to get down the coast to a place called Cahore Point, ready for the crossing of the Irish Sea.

Ardglass to Dun Laoghaire

As predicted, I woke up to some pretty fresh winds. It looked like the winds were going to be in a reasonable direction, so that wasn't too bad. We left at about 0830 with a J109. We saw it for a few hours and then it was off over the horizon.

The sea state outside the harbour was quite wavy. There was a good little wind on the quarter of cervisia. Would be a really good wind for getting to the Dublin area. For the first 3 hours we did have great and fast sailing. There were lovely views of the Mourne mountains to the west. I remembered doing two Mourne mountain marathons there. Happy days. I would like to go back some time.

After the wind died, it was another case of engine on, engine off most of the way to Dun Laoghaire. The wind kept shifting direction quite rapidly. At one stage we would be going exactly where we wanted to go, then it would push us towards land until we could tack and then we would be heading in exactly the right direction again. It was weird.

We closed land again at a place called Lambay Island which is about 10 miles north of Dublin Bay. There were loads of seabirds around there, flying together. They may have been Manx shearwater. An interesting bird I saw earlier was something like a mini frigate bird. It would chase gulls (or some other white gull-like bird) until the white bird dropped whatever it had caught. The frigate bird would then catch the regurgitated fish in mid air, then harry the gull some more for good measure. It was very interesting behaviour, especially given that I'd seen real frigate birds in Barbuda, but never worked out how they actually managed to get another bird to drop its food. By the terrified squawking sounds coming from the white bird, it looked like sheer persistence and tiring the opposition out worked.

It got dark near Howth and then we had Dublin Bay to cross in the dark. Given how fickle the wind had been, I decided to just motor across the bay. We could have tacked, but it would have taken some time and that didn't seem to be necessary at the time of night. We got moored up in the Marina at midnight and then I went to bed. It had been a long day.