Practical Boat Owner - February 2016

and above. Although the sea was rough,
the swell remained long and generally
consistent under the Atlantic rhythm,
and Lughnasa coped magnificently. We
got used to constant salty spray and the
occasional wave breaking over the bow
or across the beam: just a few minutes
of bailing would solve that. Even lunch
and loo breaks weren’t a problem.
As we neared Galway’s Slyne Head, the
tide turned in our favour. Running at
speeds of up to 3 knots, we wouldn’t do
well sailing against it: it was just our luck
that we were on yet another dead beat and
now had a wind over tide. Despite seas up
to 30ft, Lughnasa’s centreboard anchored
her hull to the water as 30
knots of wind buffeted
the reefed mainsail. Those
seas were the largest we
experienced during our
circumnavigation, although not the
choppiest, as the stronger tides and
headwinds on the east coast whipped
up chaotic steep seas.
During this wind against tide some of
the rhythmic swell gave way to rogue
waves and multidirectional chop which
caught us out a few times. Mostly it
resulted in breakers crashing into the boat
and filling the cockpit – not a problem for
our new (although rapidly ageing) bilge
pump! Twice, however, we found ourselves
riding the crests of waves which broke,
dropping us into the trough and plunging

Lughnasa’s leeward gunwale under water.

With water cascading into the boat over

the entire length of her beam we stalled as

we spilled wind, and used our body weight

to help the centreboard pull us upright

again. The second near-capsize made a

7-mile reach for Clifden look far more

tantalising than the 11-mile beat ahead of

us. Fergus took some convincing, but the

incredibly hospitable Clifden RNLI station,

with hot showers, helped him see the

brighter side of calling it a day!

Missing the tide

In preparation for our journey I used

Imray charts to plot our general course

and decide the logistics, including

overnight stopovers, contingencies, daily

distances and tides to contend with. We

loaded a standard Garmin GPS with all

of our charted waypoints and finally

transferred these to two Navionics chart

plotter apps on our iPhones. Though we

never fully relied on them, in practice we

predominantly used the n30 Navionics

apps, which contain thousands of pounds

worth of digital chart data, as well as real

time weather updates, current tidal heights

and streams and aerial photos showing

local topography.

Some seriously slow learning on my part:

I only realised the true value of the tidal

streams function after our botched

attempt at the Inishtrahull Sound,

Ireland’s most northerly point, where we

remained for four more hours than we

had intended. Not my finest moment,

but now at least we were prepared for

the next phase of the journey – the

North Channel, where we averaged

7-9 knots for the next few days.

Heading south

Whatever our previous feelings towards

tides, our north-east leg from Donaghadee

to Carlingford was another of several days

cut short by violent chop, and certainly

not the last. With what we later heard

were Force 8 gusts sweeping

over 4 knots of tide off the

northern coast of Strangford

Lough, the sea whipped into

a short, steep and confused

frenzy, sending yachts running for shelter

in nearby Ardglass. With our reduced sail

area and slow and bumpy sailing, not to

mention soaking clothes and a missed

lunch, we decided to make an unplanned

stop at Portaferry in Strangford Lough.

Forgetting (or perhaps ignoring) what I’d

read about the approach to the Lough, we

entered on the last hour or so of incoming

tide, delighted to finally ease off onto a

reach. Instantly we began tearing towards

the mouth as its notorious tides swept

under us, increasing our speed to 9 knots.

Now well and truly committed, there was

Pulling the boat in

A rare moment

enjoying sunny weather

Nathaniel and Fergus prepare for day three

Cruising

We safely sailed the four corners of the

country without any major mishap