Saturday 6 May
Having checked the weather forecast, my crew decided to head for Strangford Lough, as the wind and resultant swell were supposed to ease by around 1000, while if we left it until the following day, there would be no wind and it would be a long passage under motor. Unfortunately, the weather gods hadn’t checked the forecast, and as usual did their own thing: the wind remained on my nose the whole way, and the seas were short and choppy – great as a hairstyle, but not on waves. It was a long cold stretch down Carlingford Lough, and at the entrance conditions were very unpleasant. Unfortunately, by this time the tide was against our turning round and going back in to seek shelter and try again another day. Skipper managed to hoist the mainsail with a second reef set, but sweating it up from my bucking coachroof meant he crawled back into the cockpit a distinctly pale shade of green – very unusual, and not a good colour on him. By now Mate was communing regularly with Jimmy, and this persisted throughout the day. We tried to sail long tacks to make progress into the wind, which meant our passage added up to 50M instead of the suggested 30, and resulted in us missing the recommended tidal window into Strangford Narrows, so instead we made landfall in Ardglass.
Eventually the wind died completely, and sunny patches began to appear, so the sea became calmer and Mate began to appreciate the scenery, Northern Ireland’s highest peak, Slieve Donald among the Mountains of Mourne to our West, and the hazy outline of the Isle of Man away to the East. Ardglass is small, friendly and very sheltered; we came alongside easily on the outermost pontoon, which was obviously a favourite perch of the local seabird population: wellies required to step off my side decks. Having recovered his sea legs much earlier, Skipper cooked omelettes for supper to soothe a cold, tired, washed-out Mate, who was soon afterwards bunked down for the night.