I set out on Friday the 18th of February. A week high was sitting west of me producing a steady air flow coming out of the north and northwest. Ideally a south easterly would have propelled me to my destination but I did not want to sit around waiting for the perfect wind. I new I had to move because cold weather was on its way.
I had spent the previous day sorting out provisions and fitting a flag staff to the stern rail. I was waiting on Finbarr who might join me on the trip but alas it was not to be. I was doomed to sail on a Friday, and as it turned out solo. We left it on the day before that we would wait for morning weather forecast and as Finbarr explained he had a problem with his cows escaping their field so he could be out for the count on domestic issues alone. I went to bed that night with all this in the air. Most importantly the geography had been built up in my imagination. On the charts, in the Irish Cruising Club Sailing Directions and Reeds Nautical Almanac the hazards were described thus, “The wild and rocky west coast is fully exposed to the Atlantic swell and in unsettled weather is usually a lee shore.” Add to the mix overfalls and races plus the most western part of Ireland protrudes from this point and you have a heady mix of factors that can fuel any nervous seaman’s imagination. Well, to bring the story to a swift start, I got a phone call from Finbarr about 9 am on the Friday. He could not make it but advised that I either go for it or run for the shelter of Dingle because some very cold weather was on its way. Well to Finbarr’s credit he left enough options open that I did not feel completely reckless heading out that morning. I was going to take it in stages. Essentially I had planned to be in the Blascket sound by 5:00 pm, slack tide. Starting early I would see how things faired before making the plunge north. As it turned out, tides were neep, so no bad currents or races, but the wind was getting up to 25-30 knots. I sailed the good ship Compromise all day long. Covering the Dingle peninsula and coming just up to the Blasket sound.. Under power in the teeth of the wind I drove her north into the prevailing wind. Once through the narrowest part I was back on sail power beating to windward, working hard to make the most northern point before I could ease away on a north easterly course.
Looking back on it I am surprised by the intensity of the experience but it was the first time in my life that I have weighed everything carefully then measured each decision on the conditions as they developed. Once I was committed to that plan of action though, I was committed to going for it. Interestingly, the weather forecasts kept getting worse and worse. Forecasting exactly the type of conditions I most wanted to avoid. North westerly gale onto a lee shore. Brilliant! Well thank god the weather systems did stay to the north and northwest of me because I had 20-25 knots of wind to take me to my destination on a close reach. The only thing slightly uncomfortable was the swell rolling in off the Atlantic. It was all the factors that made it so exciting, a remote and wild landscape, covering a threatening lee shore and being fully exposed to the Atlantic all by myself. It was brilliant.
I made Loop head by about 4 in the morning, after throwing up my dinner, in the galley sink no less, yuck!. Much appreciated, in the lee of a windward shore I could now ride out the last of my journey in relative calm. The picture above was taken about 7 in the morning. I arrived at the Kilrush Marina, tied up to the lock and made myself breakfast while I waited for the Harbour Master to answer his phone. I had just done something I had never done before and it was a rush.