Caught up in Adrigole
14 July 2010 | Adrigole
Jo
We got two fish today! Lovely plump mackerel.
I paid 1.50Euro for the pair at the fisherman's co-op in Castletownbere, and Charlie went off to the chandlers, and bought 30Euro worth of fishing accessories.
Explored the docks - the back ends of the trawlers alongside the quay (parked stern in) are massive - huge maws that you can just imagine fish being churned into, as the dredge nets are re-coiled. Took several pictures of this colourful and somehow endearing little town, and in the small bookshop bought 'Ireland's Coastline' - which promises to give interesting insights to both the nature and the heritage of the seaward fringes of this fascinating country.
Headed into the Super-Valu for some groceries. It is, as the Irish Cruising Guide to South and West Ireland says, a very well stocked and well placed supermarket, being right at the top of the landing slip. The only item I couldn't find was Balsamic Vinegar - so I bought some Malt instead. At the checkout, Charlie volunteered the information that there is already vinegar on board , as he uses it for unclogging barnacles from the log impeller. The young check-out clerk told us that what we do on our own time was our own business.... and did we want the malt vinegar or no?
A slightly wet trip back to the boat, as the dinghy had quite a bit of water on board, and then the rain started too. Some preparation to get underway, which included Charlie consulting his book on How to Fish from a Boat, and also assembling a fearsome looking array of lures and dazzles on the line attached to the new reel. Be afraid, little fishies, be very afraid.
Over the course of the morning, we'd picked up snippets of chatter between the coastguard and several boats about a fishing boat that had got into trouble, its crew had abandoned it and were now in their emergency lifeboat, without a radio or even a phone. Eeek.The large orange and black lifeboat which the night before had been moored next to us had gone out. Later, we saw the rescue helicopter land just over the headland - we heard on the radio gossip that there were two survivors on board. The big lifeboat re-moored just as we puttered back from town.
Interesting to know what circumstances led to the fishing vessel getting in such trouble. It could be anything from a 5m motor launch to a 20m professional fisher, but the coastguard weather forecast didn't suggest terribly rough conditions at sea. Sounds like it all ended well, otherwise the helicopter would have taken them somewhere with a serious hospital.
Late afternoon, we raised the anchor and motored out of Castletownbere. As we rounded the corner and turned East into Bantry bay, a rainbow appeared in the changing light. Not enough to create a complete arc, but one distinct end to the south, and for a fleeting moment a matching opposite curve on the north side of the bay.
The light remained magical and spectacular as we sailed along, and the width of Bantry Bay became visible as we passed the Eastern end of Bere Island. Sun and shadow chased each other over the hills either side of us, as clouds darted across the sky and sometimes swooped down to envelop a mountain top. Our destination was Adrigiole, which the Irish Cruising Club Sailing Directions describe as 'one of the most beautiful anchorages on the coast'. Charlie deployed his fishing gear, and we settled in for a really lovely sail - the first one where I haven't worn thermal underwear! The dinghy was bobbing cheerfully behind Dark Star for this short passage, trailing a shallow wake at the end of its longish painters (attaching ropes).
We passed two old ship wrecks with parts visible above water, and the hazards of the Doucallia rock (even at high water there were huge breakers crashing on this underwater danger), the well marked George Rock and Roancrigmore lighthouse and also the Bulliga ledge. An Irish Navy warship (LE Eithne) motored past us - they have only about three, and this one looked very impressive in the silvery light.
The entrance to Adgigole's wonderful natural harbour is unmarked, but we found it without trouble, just past the ridge that leads down from hauntingly named 'Hungry Hill'. As we came past that tremendous landmark, we goggled at the stark rocky outcrops and steep sides that rise up to a summit just under 700m (2000ft). Most of the mountain looks like it has virtually no soil, so thin ribbons of grass grow between rock outcrops, accentuating the twisted geology of the landform.
From Adrigiole harbour, the East side of the mountain is even more dramatic - virtually a cliff, across whose dark face pure white waterfalls tumble for hundreds of meters. The rest of the harbour is also lovely - more hills on two sides, and low green headlands with yellow-shouldered limestone tips, keeping out the waves of Bantry Bay. The light at this point became positively biblical - silvery shafts, looming clouds and pure angelic blue skies in between.
There are a few visitors moorings, and given the increasing westerly wind - forecast for force 6 this evening - we opted for one of those rather than dropping the anchor. The moorings are well secured to the sea-bottom, and have large yellow floating buoys with metal eye rings sticking up above water. There's only one other yacht in the bay, so we had our choice. I repeated the Handy Duck trick, again catching the eye of the mooring at first pass (well, I am a bit of an eye catcher, if I say so myself, though Charlie says I'm simply a good hooker).
The trouble started when we tried to get the second line on. Concerned about the possibility of a rope chafing through, Charlie has rigged up a clever arrangement of two pieces of line, with a length of chain in between. One end of each rope is spliced into a loop, and the chain is shackled to these at either end. He then threads one end of rope through the eye of the mooring, feeds it through so the chain is against the metal eye, and secures both rope ends to the boat.
Of course, getting the end of the rope through the eye of the mooring is something that's easier said than done - especially when done lying belly down on a boat deck a metre above the eye, with both the boat and the mooring bobbing and floating in opposite and erratic directions. I have the easy job of operating the tiller and the engine, under Charlie's instructions.
As we made our approach, the mooring slipped past and floated away, so we had to come around for another pass. As we did so, in the combination of waves, wind and our own slow movement, the dinghy slid forward. It came along the length of Dark Star, and managed to get tangled round the original line I'd attached to the mooring, as well as the rope-chain-rope arrangement that Charlie was grappling with. Meanwhile, the shackles at the end of the rope proved too big to slip easily through the eye of this mooring, and jammed as Charlie tried to make some sense of the whole mess of ropes, lines, painters and chain.
And to add to the excitement, Charlie's famous fishing line had also joined in - creating a spiders web of tough, dangerous line around the stern of the boat, the engine of the dinghy and seemingly independently taking a few turns around the various ropes, the chain and the mooring buoy. The fishing rod itself was fastened securely to the boat's deck, but with this final coup de grace of nylon monofilament binding everything tight, nothing was moving without some serious untangling.
Eventually (and it has to be said, after some of the less-technical nautical terms had been released into the air!) we got things untangled --- the dinghy back in its proper stern position, the shackles and chain simply slid through the eye in the required manner, and the lures freed from - well, everything. Other than sacrificing a length of fishing line (recovered for safe disposal), and some adrenalin, all was well. We settled in for an evening of enjoying the amazing scenery, a glass of Paddy Whiskey and the famous mackerel which I bought at the Fisherman's co-op.