Aleria's Adventures

Get out the bikes, Islay and the whisky * trail beckon Coming into Port Ellen inner harbour The visitors' pontoon in the marina The village contours follow the beach We got up excited about being in 'a foreign country'. As Alex is an Irish citizen and I have an EU residency visa, we didn’t have to check in to the UK.  But we were still visitors and had to display proper etiquette. No need for a Q flag but every need for the Scottish courtesy flag.  The dinghy dock The fog was still with us and it was hard to see where town even was. We decided to do a quick reconnaissance trip ashore by dinghy from the distant anchorage to see what the marina had to offer in the inner harbour. Then we thought, we might move Aleria in closer to town so our dinghy delivery of our folding Montague bicycles would be less arduous. 

Land ho, Scotland! At least I think I see it.  Sailing in light breeze nearing Malin Head We awoke at 7 am to a beautiful sunny morning.   Soon we were underway but planned to take our time and use this wide open Bay in Donegal with no swell or wind to calibrate the autopilot. Without it we had been taking turns hand steering all day.  To calibrate Otto, you have to give the autopilot control and walk it through a series of manoeuvres and turns so it learns your boat, which can be quite unnerving. So we gave the program control and sat back watching.  Just as a little speed boat came charging out of the harbour toward us waving hello, our boat veered sharp left.  Aaarrgghh!!!  We were about to bash into them, when they bore away swearing at the rude sailors thinking we were aggressive nuts! But soon the autopilot informed us that it had learned enough and passed the test.  Cool!  Disaster averted, and, more important, calibration complete.  One more thing expertly installed

Lovely Sheephaven Bay anchorage at Portnablagh on the north side of Donegal, Ireland Bloody Foreland Alex attempting to fish  It was a beautiful “shocking hot” sunny and still morning as we motored out of Arranmore in no wind.  What a difference from when we first arrived here. This time we could see all the perils that were invisible in the fog on the way in. Maybe it was better that way! We were now a motor boat, as we’d used the last of the promised wind. At least now we had an extra week and could take our time cruising rather than delivering Aleria to Scotland. We motored all of about 25 miles in flat calm waters past the charmingly named Bloody Foreland, all the time searching for signs of basking sharks, whales and dolphins. Alex even tried fishing with no success. Despite the glass calm surface, we didn't spy any sea life other than vast numbers of birds. Perhaps the cetaceans and the fish moved into cooler waters, as this hot weather was rather unusual i

Fog in Donegal and PRMMMC*  *(personal remote maritime mobile mechanical consultation) Glen Head just as fog rolled in and the engine alarm went off. Today was to be the day of diminishing winds. We got up early and motored out of Killala, set our sails and sailed across Donegal Bay keeping a watch out for fishing vessels out of Killybegs. We now have an aversion for fishing trawlers, as could be expected. Unfortunately, none of those we saw had AIS.  Just as we rounded the northwesternmost tip of Ireland where weather always seems to make headlines, the wind died. Big swell was still crashing on the rocky headland.  So we fired up the engine and started motor sailing toward Arranmore about 6 miles away.  Within minutes, the overheating alarm came on the engine.  We had seen that a couple of days ago, so Alex had then topped up the antifreeze and it had stopped.  Now, it was on again and alarming.  We had to shut down the engine. With the wind dying, our only choices were

Happy Independence Day America!  Huge swell combined with cross waves to create a confused sea. Pounding around Achill and into Black Sod Bay, County Mayo, Ireland Well at least it wasn't a red sky at morning. The concert before we left had ended with a fireworks display reminiscent of American Independence Day.  We’d had our fix of oooohs and aahhs and ohwwwsss! All we could do now was celebrate our independence by setting off and hoping for the best. In the morning, despite a threatening looking sunrise, heavy swell and confused seas, we left Clew Bay and sailed around Achill Island to Black Sod Bay.  It was like being in a washing machine, tumbling every which way off the crests of waves that squared off against a huge 20 foot ocean swell.  Despite 25 knots of wind out of the WNW, we were so closely hauled that we had to power with the engine on full to make way through the pounding surf around the imposing headland.  The cliffs off Achill are the highest in