Aleria's Adventures

GPS anomalies and tricky unmarked routes Aleria and Vagrant sailing toward Loch Tarbert. Photo by Vicki aboard Nokomis All night and for days after, we imagined there were creepy little things crawling up our necks, down our legs and burrowing into our skin.  And in fact, Alex did have two ticks that burrowed.  A great remedy is to smeer them with Vaseline and wait about 15 minutes. They suffocate and release their jaws. Then you can pick them out with tweezers and they just let go without leaving any parts behind that can cause infection. Of course ticks can cause all kinds of infections anyway, including Lyme Disease.  Fortunately, Alex and I were both vaccinated when the Lyme disease vaccine was available for a short time in the States. So good to be sailing again! Paps of Jura in the distance We had a lovely breakfast, the rain stopped, and we followed the fleet out of Pig Bay.  There was a nice breeze building. We hoisted sails alongside Vagrant and Nokom

The Race, whirlpools, swell and ticks…dangers all around. Gulf of Corryvreckan between Scarba and Jura Water boiling and whirlpools at slack water Aleria was among the first group of five boats to pass through the Corryvreckan and, even at slack water, the water was still boiling all around us as we passed through under power at almost 10 knots. Our speed through the water was only 5.8 knots as we raced over a 224 foot deep chasm that would soon shallow out abruptly. We were being set quite substantially. We anchored in hard sand and weed in gorgeous Pig Bay (Bagh Gleann nam Much) just on the inside of the top of Jura with the Race's waters rushing past the opening to the Bay while inside it was calm and secure.  The Race extends out quite a distance, which is called an overfall here in Scotland. Luckily, there wasn't much wind, only about 10 knots, because when wind opposes tide, it can get very nasty, with standing waves and square chop intertwined.  9.

Lay day in Craobh with OCC friends The Ocean Cruising Club 2013 Scotland Rally crew The OCC burgee flying proudly at the Currin's home Being at a marina was such a luxury to us.  We had not had a chance to really scrub Aleria since she was on the hard in Westport.  She had weeks of grime and salt built up on her topsides, and lots of tidying to do below.  So Alex scrubbed the top while I set to work below. Since Alex had the whole boat torn apart fixing things and installing things, many things were still out of their designated storage spaces and others were grimy from the sooty smoke or greasy from being touched with greasy fingers which cannot be helped. It took some time to straighten up. I was hoping that people wouldn’t feel that I was being antisocial. I just couldn’t face continuing on without cleaning up. Bikes proved a good mode of transport from marina to party

Sailing at the speed of knots Flying Fish burgee of the Ocean Cruising Club (OCC) As we had finished our chores in Ardfern, there was no need to stay on, so we decided to catch the afternoon tide and make our way north to Craobh (pronounced Croove).  That was where we were meeting up with the OCC Scotland Rally  and the opening dinner was the following night.  It would be nice to get there a day in advance. The wind was just picking up as we lifted our anchor off the muddy buttom.  Alex was grateful for the salt water wash down system he had installed several years back. Craobh Haven Marina We had a nice 15 knot breeze coming down the loch close hauled, no need to tack until we got to the Point. We thought one tack would take us right around.  Brilliant.  Tacking Aleria is a lot of work so we try to tack as little as possible. Just as we approached Dorus Mor at Criagnish Point, the wind suddenly picked up to 25 knots and clocked so it was right on the nose when we alte

Fixing things and doing laundry in exotic places once again! Boats going this way and that in the hot and hazy summer conditions Fog hugging the coast We realized that Ardfern is home to the marina and chandlery where we had ordered our hose for the radiator repair. If we were lucky, we’d get there before they closed. We arrived just in the nick of time, and lo and behold, that radiator hose was tucked away for us as promised and we even got their last gallon of antifreeze. Luck was with us! We spent the rest of the evening walking around town, exploring the craft shop, the deli, and the pub/restaurant. It was a beautiful day once again, so we sat outdoors at the pub and sampled a couple of local brews. The grounds overlooked the waterfront and tiny sweet holiday cottages. And the pub had wifi, so Alex was finally able to download his email but I could not get mine to work.

Brittle stars and high crosses - waiting for the tide to turn has its benefits Brittle stars brought up with the anchor chain Lovely clear view of Tayvallich Hazy morning in Loch Sween It was a beautiful misty morning in Loch Sween. A raptor circled overhead as we prepared to weigh anchor. In this anchorage, because of all the deciduous trees, we expected and found a very muddy bottom. It took some time to hose down the anchor chain and anchor, which was also covered in brittle stars. We decided to sail down Loch Sween and around the corner toward Loch Craignish, but to stop at Kiells to visit the church there while we awaited the turning of the tide.

A visit to the mainland lochs of Argyll Motoring in flat calm Who would have thought we'd need the awnings? Fishing boat coming in with fresh catch No wind again. The forecast was for variable Force 2-3, seas smooth, visibility moderate to poor, occasionally very poor in patchy fog – for the next three days!  We’re all motor boats with masts out here going this way and that.  Once again it’s shocking hot as we weigh anchor and make our way north. Hazy entrance to Loch Sween.  The East side of Islay didn’t have many suitable harbours for our draft so we decided to cross over the Sound to visit the mainland lochs on the way up to our planned meeting with the Ocean Cruising Club fleet in Craobh (pronounced ‘Croove’).  The entrance to Loch Sween was strewn with islets and rocks that we had to pick our way through, then it opened up into a lovely wide sea loch. Castle Sween on its eastern shore stands as a major ruin worthy of Game of Thrones.  The Cast

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

A glorious sail around Erris Head and under Downpatrick Head to Killala in North Mayo, Ireland Downpatrick Head The Stags  The seas were much less ferocious as we left Black Sod Bay than they had been the day before, which was encouraging, and Onyx was feeling much better. It's funny when you're sailing how one day can be stressful and terrifying and the next day you can't remember what the fuss was all about. It's just beautiful and awe inspiring.  As we passed the Black Sod Coast Guard station, we hailed them to do a radio check.  They heard us loud and clear and confirmed seeing us on AIS. How encouraging!  Two more of Alex’s projects were a success – the VHF antenna and the AIS which shows you which ships are in your vicinity, as well as their heading, speed, and distance.  What an amazing device. The stack

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

Making way out of Clew Bay. Well, sort of. Aleria on her mooring in Clew Bay Greetings friends! We're off to Scotland, well sort of. As usual, it's a bit of a story. It’s been a while since Aleria took off on an extended trip, and it has been an interesting couple of years for Alex and me.  If you recall, we arrived in Ireland after crossing the Atlantic for the third time and started cruising up the coast when a big old heavy wooden fishing trawler ploughed into Aleria broadsides while she was at anchor.  We were thankfully ashore. So, Aleria went to the Shannon for repairs while we started a new business to keep us busy. A year later in 2011, we got her back, better than ever and cruised the islands off the coast of Ireland in our home waters.  We went to Galway for the Volvo Ocean Race finale, sailed to the magical Aran Islands, then Inishturk, Inishbofin, Caher and Clare.