Caught between an un-helpful weather forecast and expensive marina fees, this morning we decided to spend the day at anchor just off Kinsale in the Bandon river. After some tidying up below decks, we went over to the fuel pontoon to refill the tanks, then up to the marina office to pay for the two nights we'd stayed here.

I made a special effort to be nice to the marina manager. Charm - or pity - worked, and there was a 'discount' on the bill so it cost 48Euros for two nights, instead of the 86 we'd been quoted. That's much closer to the going rate. From here on, we expect several nights either at anchor or on municipal moorings, much more in line with our budget, being cheap or free!

The winds were supposed to be SW force 5 - 6 today, backing round to the south overnight, but increasing to gale force tomorrow afternoon. The most favourable speed and direction combo should happen overnight. Given the forecast, our plan is to depart Kinsale about 04.30 tomorrow, passing the Old Head of Kinsale about dawn and continuing south-west to Glandore - we should arrive by 11.00 or so.

In fact, though, the winds have not been too strong today, so perhaps we could have left after all - but it could be different out at sea. As we motored across to our new position, we had a good look at the clippers, all very smart with their banners and flags. As we passed the Canadian clipper 'Cape Breton Isle', smart in her Nova Scotia blue paint, a harbour seal popped up, as curious as we were.

This change of position also gave me a chance to practice the one boat-y thing I can do unassisted (usually!) and that is to let down the anchor. Not THAT difficult, as it's a matter of pushing the red button to drive the electric winch, but I like to think I do it with flair! And it involves standing on the very bow of the boat, looking over into the water, like Kate Winslet in Titanic. Except that Leonardo de Caprio isn't holding me, and Celine Dion isn't warbling. And I'm wearing thermal underwear and a lifejacket, not an evening gown, and am hanging onto the jib with one arm. But apart from that, exactly like the movie, really. Reminds me of the last words of one of the lookouts in the fog-bound crows nest on that ship: 'I can smell ice, me'.

Once we were at anchor with no strong winds to contest with, Charlie managed to get the dinghy inflated and this afternoon we puttered over to town and made a foray to the local supermarket. Lots of smartly dressed people in Kinsale, linen and floral prints being popular with the well-heeled crowd. Charlie and I did not count in that number, though our lifejackets probably gave us an authentically nautical appearance. Or perhaps just authentically scruffy.

Walking round the harbour from the slip where we'd tied up the dinghy, we saw a rat foraging on the seaweed, just where Charlie had seen one four years ago. We discussed the possibility of standing there saying 'Look, a rat!' until the tourist board came and paid us to stop, but on balance decided this might get the rat killed instead, and everybody gotta be somewhere, don't they, even in posh Kinsale.

Back on the boat, we lazed about in the shelter of the spray hood and enjoying the sunshine. I'm reading Eric Newby's book about his bike tour of Ireland, and was interested to learn we're not far from a statue of the Virgin Mary which is known to move. Apparently she can hardly keep still, even Newby saw her jiggle around, and he's neither a teenage girl nor a Catholic.

I wanted to go and see this Disco Virgin, but Charlie wouldn't go for it. Reading on, I learned that in 1985, the statue was attacked by two Californian fundamentalist Christians, bearing hammers. They said they objected to the idol worship, but quite likely they just didn't like the notion of some female getting uppity and moving without permission. Newby doesn't record whether the Californians succeeded in teaching the statue a lesson.

Planning an early dinner and a few hours' nap before our gruesome pre-dawn departure. Charlie has made a holder on the stern of the boat for his fishing rod, and is now reading 'Fishing Afloat' and playing with his neon lures - this being a perfectly legal and probably harmless activity. He has a track record of having caught two mackerel - ever - so this is probably not a case of 'Woe Unto Ye; Ye Fishes of Ireland'.