Bought a pilot book on Amazon and set off for Dale as soon as it arrived in the post. We arrived at Dale 14:00 Thursday and set about leaving as soon as we could, motoring out of the haven in almost no wind, the Pembroke Ferry would be there in a couple of hours, it would take us all night.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Ferry leaving Pembroke"]
[/caption]Even though it was the first time Louise and I had done a night passage on our own, on our own boat, I was excited. I felt elated as we rounded St Anne's head and headed Westwards, leaving Pembrokeshire behind and sailin (motoring) off into the sunset. Louise, having done a nightshift, retired with Tigger, leaving me alone to enjoy the late evening.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Sunset, Irish Sea"]
[/caption]The tide was running South, so I stayed 2-3 miles to the South of Skomer, Skokholm, Grassholm, the Hats, Barrels and teh smalls, looking ghostly as the light faded.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Skokholm"]
[/caption]There were dolphins every few miles, one emitting a curious barking noise as it surfaced. Never heard that before, and I've seen many many dolphins. Louise surfaced just before 23:00. Within 1/2 an hour or so, it was properly dark. I asked her what she could see, and she said she could see the Smalls light. I pointed out three tiny pinpricks of light, vessels running North and South in the Traffic Separation Scheme to the West of the Smalls. Once 'accllimatized' to looking for ships, I went below for a couple of hours sleep, leaving Louise to the darkness, and the sea.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Louise, Night Passage"]
[/caption]We did two hour watches. In June, it doesn't get really darl until after 11:00, and the sky lightens again around 04:00, so it was a short night indeed. Louise took the next watch, and the sun was climbing when I joined her on deck just before 5am.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Sunset and Saltee Islands"]
[/caption]We were both tired, but strong coffee, freshly brewed, helped with that. A Southerly, force 2-3 sprang up, and teh sails helped our speed, and reduced the roll, as we appoached Hook Point Light, and the Entrance to Waterford harbour. I'm not really sure why I'd been so apprehensive - we sailed off into the darkness, but, it seems, did not disappear over the end of the Earth, making landfall in Ireland a few hours later, all quite easy and predictable, really, but we were both grinning to be in Ireland.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Hook Point"]
[/caption]As we approached Hook point, we came across many nets and lobster pots, weaving in between them, an annoyance as we neared teh entrance to Waterford harbour. We were soon 'round Hook point, however, the fishing port of Dunmore East to the West of us.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Dunmore East"]
[/caption]Waterford Harbour, the Estuary for the River Barrow, is about two miles wide, by perhaps 6 miles in length. Shallow, and marked with buoys, it nevertheless takes container ships and cruise ships as well as fishing vessels and pleasure craft. We sailed on Northwards before turning the corner into the river proper, avoiding the river ferry on the way:
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="River Barrow Ferry"]
[/caption]Tigger kept watch, in case the ferry got two close. He then programmed the autopilot to take us up to Waterford:
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Couple more degrees to starboard, please."]
[/caption]A little further upstream and the banks started to close in. Ahead lay the power station, and the point where the Rivers Barrow and suir met. Ther railway bridge has a swing section, opening on demand. We may try it next time.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Entrance to the River Barrow"]
[/caption]The River Barrow/Suir reminded me of the Cleddau at Milford Haven, or the Avon as you approach Bristol. Deeply sloping wooded banks, with Herons and wildlife, interspersed with industrial features befitting a major port.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I am enjoying myself, honest"]
[/caption][caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Waterford container port"]
[/caption]A little further upstream and the River Suir splits to go around an island. we stayed in the northern channel, as the pilot suggested, and were soon approaching Waterford itself. We'd been warned about strong currents, but there were neap tides, and Louise handled Ishtar beautifully under power. We were soon tying up on Waterford visitor's pontoon.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Ishtar at Waterford"]
[/caption]Louise went off to pay and pick up a few brochures. There were toilets and showers nearby, and we were a couple of muntes away from the centre of town. I lay down and pretty soon was sleeping, just for an hour!
When Louise got back, we decided that 18 or so hours on a boat was enough for a small black lurcher. The tourist map that Louise had picked up showed 'The people's park' about 10 minutes walk away. With trees and wide open spaces, Tigger found it very agreeable indeed, and enjoyed exploring immensely.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Tigger exploring The People's park."]
[/caption]Relaxed and happy, the three of us made our way back to Ishtar. Louise had spotted a curry house, and a friend, born in Waterford had recommended a bar. We wandered through the streets, just enjoying the sights:
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Church, Waterford"]
[/caption]The curry was excellent, as was the guinness. I was distraught when, around 10pm, a few chaps started playing the banjo, guitar and bodhran.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Guinness"]
[/caption]They were very good, but I was exhausted, so we made our way back to the boat, and yet another stunning sunset.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Waterford Sunset"]
[/caption]What a brilliant day.
