Inishbofin-Tayvallich

After my last post from Inishbofin, my laptop decided I had better take a summer break from cyber space; it refused to recognise the internet any more; meanwhile however I had prepared an account of our trip northwards.

We headed off on a lumpy sea up past Clare Island, whose intriguing profile fascinated Patrick Pye:


 

and Achill Hd:

Then we at last found sheltered waters inside the wild Inishkeas, and slipping inside Eagle Island, came once more to Broadhaven Bay. 

It was so good to see the sweet familiar hills of Mayo again, and recall Luke standing on a fish box to steer the Eiscir Riada, as we hauled crab pots in Broadhaven Bay. They are still fishing crabs there, for prices that make it very hard to keep going, and also mackerel, with the like problem. 

I found Henry Geoghan pottering outside his house; he's had a lot of knee trouble, but has one new one doing well and will have the same operation on the other. He took me with him into Belmullet for supplies.

We recalled the bitter March night when I took shelter in the Magnificent, Pat Conneely's old 75footer, lest one forgets or thinks it was but a dream! The weather station at Belmullet recorded gusts of 100mph. You could not stand on deck, unless bent and holding on. All electricity on land was out, the radar didn't work because the scanner could not go round, the sounder was useless with interference, it was in the days before GPS, the night was thick with drizzle and spray. The only electrical gadget still working in the boat was the VHF, and I was in touch with Henry.

I had anchored in the bay, but the anchor was dragging. Fortunately the wind changed from SE to W, so that it became possible to get alongside the pier, which I was able to do because Henry drove to the end of it and kept his headlights on, so thanks again, Henry.

Let them not take it into there heads that there is no longer any need for proper lighthouses!

The sea was settling for a change as we headed north-east past the Stags:

Sadly, what with having to be in Wicklow for the 22^nd and more bad weather given, there was no time to set foot in Donegal;

Passing over 10 miles to the West of dear old Glen Head, on a pleasant evening with a fine northerly breeze that had a little west in it, we were just able to lay Tory Sound,

and after a night that was never really dark, for one notices a big difference in this line just sailing from Cork to Donegal, we raised Tory Island with the dawn behind it.

Holding on the Gannetsway past the fine northern coast,

we made our landfall at Islay towards evening.

A bonnie island indeed,

where we anchored off the distillery at Lagavulin,

and went ashore to taste their fine whiskey.

After that we had a magnificent smooth water sail up the Sound of Jura,

to Loch Sween.

and so found the sheltered bay of Tayvallich to ride out the forecast gales.

A lovely, gentle, wooded part of the world.

C'mon Gabby!

Time to head south again, to be in Wicklow in time for Matthew and Holly's wedding!