A simple delivery...not!

Loop Head

We were to bring Aleria home and we had a weather window which wasn't ideal for a sailboat (very little wind) but was ideal for a motorboat. We have an engine. What could go wrong?

Unfortunately, I have memories of engine failures over the many years of our sailing. The time the fuel injection system failed in the Caribbean, the time the engine cut out in Donegal Bay, the time the exhaust failed in Spain, the time the flexible coupling failed in Biscay. It's just a matter of time before you have to deal with an engine issue, especially with today's 'yacht engines'. Meant to be used in civilized places where mechanics are aplenty and kept busy, yacht engines are fickle in my experience. When they work, they are a joy to employ when necessary. When they fail, they always do so in precarious circumstances. And in the west of Ireland finding a diesel engine mechanic is a pipe dream. 

Alex wanted to bring her home on his own, motoring straight through in two days: Kilrush to Inishbofin, Bofin home. "Easy peasy," he said. 

I had visions of disastrous proportions. Catastrophic engine failure and no backup. I want to keep Alex around for a few more decades. So I said, "No way. We're going together." 

The Marina lock gadget

Only the weather forecast kept changing. Two-day windows were often closed the day before. The Saturday we were to go on Friday was showing near gale force winds from the NW, and against the tides in the Shannon would have been miserable. Sunday-Monday was looking wet but with little wind. We decided to go for it. We drove down Saturday afternoon, provisioned and prepared for our passage home. 

Lots of blues but chilly

In the early morning, we exited the locked marina basin into a gloriously sunny vista with heavy cumulous and showers all around, but we had our own blue sky patch following us. The tide had just changed and we were going with the flow against a light NWerly. As we rounded Loop Head, a big swell was bouncing off the cliffs and crossing itself, making for an uncomfortable ride. I'm usually free of mal de mer but Alex wisely took a tablet for the inescapable nausea he suffers. 

Alex resting his eyes

After 12 hours of jostling and maintaining our blue sky patch, we pulled into a very busy Inishbofin Harbour. Ah, the silence when we finally shut off the engine. A bit of dinner and a show of boats playing musical anchors kept us occupied in the evening sunshine. 

Vlogger on deck

Quiet anchorage

Sunset facing NW

Morning facing east

Monday morning, we awoke to flat glass calm. We took our time as we wouldn't be able to enter inner Clew Bay until the evening at half tide. We left under power and puttered happily along, meandering among the islands of Inisturk, Cahir and Clare, marvelling at the cloud formations blanketing the coast and determining that being a motorboat is a lot less work than sailing. Perhaps we could get used to it? 

The Twelve Bens of Connemara

Inishturk

Old Head and Croagh Patrick

The Holy Mountain in the mist

Clare Island 

About two miles before Inishoe, the island by which we enter our portion of the Bay, Alex decided to slow down some more as we'd be too early for the tide. Suddenly, the pitch of the engine noise changed and a big puff of smoke billowed out from the cabin. Oh no! Not again? 

"Don't open the engine compartment as there could be fire," I yelled. Alex handed me the extinguisher which I prepared at the ready as he opened the hatch. It was stuck. So was the next one and the next. Finally, he yanked really hard and managed to lift a floorboard. Thick smoke rose out but thankfully no flames. 

So how would we get to a safe place without an engine? It's impossible to sail Aleria into the inner Bay and besides, there was no wind. We weighed our options. We've done a side-by-side tow with our dinghy before. Alex dropped the dinghy in the water and started the engine. We were making very little way as the wind had just picked up -- NEerly. 

So we unfurled the Yankee headsail. We'd sail in past Inishoe and drop anchor. I did the sailing while Alex got things ready. Of course the closer we got, the more rocks and shallows we had to avoid. I had my smart phone next to me with my SavvyNavvy navigation app showing me when we had to tack. 

Meanwhile, Alex called a neighbour with a boat that had an engine big enough that he could maybe tow us in, if he was at home. We were in luck. He was home and willing. We'd sail just up to Inishoe and he would meet us and take the towline from us. It worked brilliantly. He arrived just as we ran out of water and furled the headsail. 

John arrives with his pet seagull

Alex gave him a VHF handheld radio and gave him instructions to stay in the middle of the channels as we needed a minimum of 12 feet of water. John had never towed anything like Aleria before but he performed expertly. Slowly and steadily, we made our way through the inner islands to our mooring. Aleria's momentum at 30 tons is a force to reckon with. We'd have only one shot at it. 

Alex had left our little motorboat at the mooring so we could offload when we came home. Unfortunately, the bridle and pick up stick had somehow made its way to the other side of the boat from where he had left it. He couldn't reach it. So as I was redundant at the wheel, I started to run up to the front when I tripped and fell smacking my bad knee on the hard deck. I got up and made my way to the bow in agony without letting on. Alex jumped into our motorboat and pulled out the bridle and handed it to me. We managed to secure Aleria and avert disaster. 

John towing us with seagull on the bow

We all three were a mass of nerves. John was relieved, I was able to panic, and Alex just sat down. I offered to make us drinks. We made a toast to disaster averted, packed up, and went home. 

So in comes our resilience. Alex went to Aleria in the morning to see if he could diagnose the problem. I took a diesel mechanics course in NJ. The most important thing I learned was to buy the mechanic's manual for the engine we bought; not the owner's manual which tells you when to service things, but the mechanic's manual which explains how to diagnose problems. If he couldn't, we'd have a second go the next day. 

Lo and behold, he found the problem without ado. The exhaust we'd had replaced at great cost in Portosin a few years back had burst. The smoke we saw was the exhaust and the first burst was probably steam. The change in pitch was likely due to the exhaust ceasing to flow out. 

Déjà vu all over again!

A Frenchman we met in the Canaries showed us his yacht which he had outfitted for a world cruise with a fishing boat engine because they have to work no matter what. They don't have performance-enhancing features, they feature non-destructive construction. Meant to bring fishermen home from the Perfect Storm, fishing boat engines are the reliable sort. Not a fickle one among them. The next boat we buy will have a fishing boat engine. I'm done with the prima donnas of the sea.