Aleria's Adventures

Aleria at the new marina pontoon Aleria ready to go for a swim What has become our new annual migration between Westport and Killybegs in the West of Ireland took place in the north to south direction last week.  We launched Aleria on the high spring tide in Donegal on Wednesday evening. Having had a new shaft and prop fitted, our first dilemma was that the PSS gland was leaking too much. Back up in the sling and mechanics aboard to burp and tighten the seal. Back down again and ready out. Alex pushed the throttle and nothing happened! Back up again. Broken throttle cable. The mechanic suggested we drop in and motor slowly with him aboard to the new marina. We inch our way over in brilliant sunshine and total calm. At least there was something to be grateful for. The T end of the new pontoon is reserved for visiting yachts (€2/m/day). It had 24 feet of water at half tide. Phew!

Benbulben in Sligo On Tuesday of this week, November 1, Alex and I drove to Killybegs to offload Aleria 's sails, cushions and other stuff. We brought a trailer along this time and loaded the car and trailer full. It only took 2.5 hours to drive up ... into blistering sunshine the whole way.  We were very efficient this year and got almost everything done in 2.5 hours.  A quick lunch break on deck, and we were on our way home ... into blistering sunshine the whole way.

It was a lovely morning and we were soon underway, thinking we might stop in to Inishmurray if the forecast for a calm day proved true. At this point, it was not. Once again we were soaring up the North Mayo coast in a SE. Then we realized it was almost 70 miles to Killybegs. That's a long day. We'd have to go straight there. We passed inside the Stags on a perfect course heading for Teelin doing more than 9 knots with the current; we couldn't make Killybegs on our current heading as the wind had backed to ESE and we were hard on the wind, trimming sails to the shifts as if in a dinghy. The chop was surprisingly uncomfortable out there. It was going to be a long trip bashing into the waves  on a beat all day.

We had a fine weather window that coincided with the astronomically high spring tide. If we left with the tide on Tuesday afternoon, we could sail to the Inishkeas or Black Sod Bay the next morning, spend the night there, then continue on to Killybegs Thursday and haul out on Friday. Unusually, there was a high centred over Scandinavia just above us that was extending all the way down to us. We were to have light southeasterlies and clear skies after strong easterly winds on Tuesday. Meanwhile, a succession of lows plunged across below to Spain and a slow-moving hurricane Matthew was plaguing the US East Coast.

A few of the fishing vessels in Killybegs We got underway right from the Killybegs Sailing Club mooring, having raised our mainsail and mizzen in the harbour. The wind direction made for a perfect line right out of the harbour close hauled. As we unfurled the yankee and Alex raised the staysail, she soared out the channel.

Killybegs, Donegal, Ireland Last week we had the luck of a weather window and a high spring tide, a good combination of conditions to relaunch Aleria .  She had spent the winter in Killybegs at the Mooney yard. Alex had spent many days servicing and replacing through hull fittings all winter. He found several worrying decay elements -- not surprising given her advancing age. Aleria is 40 years old this year. Although her hull was created in 1994, she wasn't finished and launched until 1996. The machine shop at the yard proved immensely helpful, building several new components, testing metals, advising on replacements and building special tools. Alex couldn't have done it without them.

On approach to Killybegs Lighthouse on Rotten Island We needed to haul Aleria this year for several maintenance chores and bottom paint. The best option was to sail north to Killybegs in Donegal, one of the most important fishing ports in all of Europe.   The quote we received for haul out and storage from the boatyard there was quite reasonable. Our only concern was that we had heard that Killybegs might not be yacht friendly.  We had stopped in Teelin along the way then set sail for the short passage to Killybegs. It's only about 18 km or 10 nautical miles between the two. The approach is straightforward. The coastline is very interesting. The weather was cooperating. We noted the marine farm in Bruckless Harbour on the approach. The lighthouse on Rotten Island was where expected and we turned to port to enter the harbour surrounded by hills.

Crossing Donegal Bay in shades of grey again. (Click on photos to enlarge.) We left the anchorage in the Inishkeas rather late, thinking we would stop in Broadhaven or Killala for the night. But then we came up with the brilliant idea of pushing to get to Teelin and having a another day off to visit Slieve League while we were there. The seas had calmed but there wasn't enough wind to propel Aleria , so we motor sailed up the Mayo coast. 

Overwintering in Galway. Aleria, at 57 feet long, is often one of the larger yachts in a marina. For the last few years, she spent the winters in the water in Galway Harbour. Not a bad place to be as the marina is smack in the middle of the old city. It’s great to have an apartment right in the heart of town. Unfortunately Galway does not yet have the facilities to haul vessels of Aleria ’s size, but when the new marina comes in, hopefully it will. 

Teelin harbour surrounded by lovely hills and homes Harbour of refuge and the parking lot at the edge of the world Leaving Gola via the South Sound We left Gola early through the South Sound. The wind was to go westerly but it was southerly. And of course we wanted to go south all the way to Mayo.  We sailed southeast past Arranmore where we had stopped on the way up, then had to start motoring.  We were not looking forward to 10 hours of motoring while bashing into the wind. Our goal was to cross Donegal Bay, a wide expanse of water where one shore is not visible from the other. But first we had to sail down the coast of Donegal.   The Atlantic can be mighty unforgiving here. It bounces into tall cliffs and bounces back out to cross itself. And it was just awful out there. Bash bash bash. Bash Bash bash. Hour after hour. After a while it got really tedious.