Arklow, although not the centre of yachting for the east coast of Ireland, proved to be full of really friendly people and most importantly a really, really friendly assistant harbour master. The assistant harbour master was so friendly in fact that after chewing the fat with him and telling him our story, he let us stay for free for the weekend on his pontoon and we even managed to plug into shore power for the first time in nearly a month.
Just imagine life without things with 3 pin plugs and where every piece of electricity that you use is monitored and needs to be replaced by some means. This really makes you think about what you use and if you really need to use it, we have therefore, for the past month been very green and have had a very low carbon footprint. That was all to change when we had free run of the magic of electricity. We charged batteries, laptops, camera's, phones, created hot water and plugged in the most luxurious appliance, a heater. Wow what a difference having a dry warm boat makes.
Arklow also provided us with a pontoon to help get the leaks fixed that we had in the calorfier, the diesel leak and holding tank and also sort the steering. All the jobs were pretty easy but every job requires lockers to be emptied and the boat being taken to bits. We seem to spend our lives filling and emptying lockers. Whilst on the pontoon we also found and fettled a barge board so we are now able to go alongside remote harbour walls in Scotland. Somewhat of a relief.
We have found, as we go north that the architecture of the towns is reflected in their showering facilities. In the south coast it's all glass frontages and clean lines, ditto the showers; in Dartmouth the buildings are twee and sweet, ditto the showers; so what happens when the town seems to be covered in pebbledash? Yep you guessed it, peddledash inside the showers. This is one place you don't want to have a shower and lean against the wall by accident. Imagine explaining those graze marks to the doctor?
The comfort of Arklow had to end at some point and ended abruptly at midnight on Sunday when we had to get up when lots of people were still up and partying. We seem to be driven not by the clock anymore, like those at work or play, but by the ever relenting tide and weather that we either need to catch or miss. And so it was that we rose at midnight out of our warm and comfy bed to make it to Dun Laoghaire before the big north east winds set in tomorrow afternoon. We motored throughout the night in flat seas with no breeze and arrived happily in a very sheltered and welcoming harbour.
What then followed was a day of moving the boat. We tied up at some pontoons in a corner of the harbour and within minutes were told by marina staff to move into marina; we were also informed that they would charge €40 per day for the privilege of sitting in this soulless haven of unfulfilled dreams. Instead we moved to the National Irish Yacht Club, which had more convivial surrounding but was still really expensive. This is when lady luck struck. As is our way now, we started chatting to a chap who owned a Nicholson 32 called Zuben'ubi. After talking about our friends within the Nicholson Association, ie Jason Poole the class secretary and our experience sailing them, he invited us to stay on a mooring behind his boat. After a couple of phone calls we were confirmed as Honorary Yacht Club Members for the duration and dispatched to a free sheltered mooring in the harbour.
Ireland's people again never cease to amaze us with the friendly manner and their willingness to help with no recompense requested. We are both big believers in good Karma and think we must start giving back soon.
There are some pretty big winds forecasted for the next couple of days so we'll hold out here and be amused by the entertainments found in southern Ireland's capital, Dublin until it's time again to push north.
Its not all play
Fishing boatrs at sunset.
Racheal, the autopilot, doing her business.
Thanks for Raphe on Zuben'ubi.