Aran islands
Hazel’s parents were our first visitors from the UK. Their planned ferry was cancelled due to bad weather so they didn’t arrive in Dingle until gone midnight after a tortuous drive right across Ireland in the rain. We treated them to a night in a marina but I’m not sure this was fully appreciated when we told them we planned to set sail at nine the following morning!
After waiting three days for fair weather, we didn’t want to miss our window and we had two amazing sails, from Dingle to the Shannon river, and from there to Inishmore, one of the Aran Islands. Unfortunately for Hazel’s parents this meant a long drive each day to meet us at the other end, and in the case of the Aran islands, a ferry trip too! For us as well, it was a full 10-hour sail each day but the conditions were perfect and we enjoyed our first 'proper' sailing (without the engine) almost since leaving the Exe.
It turned out to be a wise decision to keep moving as the wind did its usual trick of blowing at gale force for the next three days. We moved from the anchorage to the sheltered harbour wall but even so, there were real waves inside the inner harbour. Our boat was fairly still but the two yachts tied alongside of us were jumping about nicely and water kept crashing up over our deck.
Weather aside, we had a warm welcome from the local community, where the ‘Ros Ailither’ was based in the 1960’s. Michael Conneely, son of the then-owner, was waiting for us at the harbour after being told of our imminent arrival by one of his colleagues at the airport who had flown over us as we were sailing towards the island! His father had owned the Ros Ailither for several years and Michael had spent a couple of years fishing on her.
Sadly, Michael's father, Martin, is now physically unable to climb on board but he came down to the quay to take a look at his old boat bobbing at anchor. Michael’s brother appeared the next morning with a load of fresh fish and prawns for us, and we had a fairly constant stream of visitors who knew the boat or had fished on her. One man showed us which of the old coffin-bunks was his for a year and a half!
Between rain showers, we managed to explore the island. With Hazel’s parents we found a secluded beach to take Katie for a paddle, and took a ride on one of the tourist horse and carts. Mac the driver told us how much the island has changed. For one thing, all the little fields partitioned by stonewalls used to be full of potatoes to sell at the big Galway market. This has been killed off by cheap imported potatoes. The main income now comes from tourism, hence the masses of hired bicycles, tour buses and horse and carts that fill the tiny roads. Not a peaceful place to walk unless you go off the beaten track.
As soon as you are off the two main roads, you feel like you have stepped back in time. The stone walls go on forever, but nowadays the fields are full of grass and the odd cow. It is quite a bleak place, fully exposed to the Atlantic winds and with hardly a tree in sight. Lots of the old stone houses have been abandoned and larger modern houses built next the ruins. It is beautiful in a rugged way and there are some lovely quiet beaches, with weird and wonderful eroded lava rocks and gritty grey sand, reminiscent of those sand ‘pictures’ you turn upside down. There are at least a good selection of pubs to while away the rainy days. And of course a vast selection of hand-knitted Aran jumpers to keep you warm, but at €90 a go, we gave those a miss!
We also had the Whittons to visit, as they were nearby in Ireland. They caught the ‘Happy Hooker’ ferry from Doolin but were less than impressed with the wild seas that made everybody on board seasick. We tried to revive them with a hot bath, a pint of Guiness and a meal of local salmon and mash but they were still on for an early night. Happily for us, they were willing to babysit and Dave and I joined the neighbouring boat crew for a trip to the pub to hearsomne live music. The musicians turned out to be three young brothers (aged 14, ten and eight!!) and gave an incredible performance of traditional Irish music and dance!
The wind finally abated a little on Wednesday and, after waving the Whitton off on their return ferry, we set out to sea again. Michael Conneely came down to see us off at the dock and his father watched us head out to sea with all sails set.
After waiting three days for fair weather, we didn’t want to miss our window and we had two amazing sails, from Dingle to the Shannon river, and from there to Inishmore, one of the Aran Islands. Unfortunately for Hazel’s parents this meant a long drive each day to meet us at the other end, and in the case of the Aran islands, a ferry trip too! For us as well, it was a full 10-hour sail each day but the conditions were perfect and we enjoyed our first 'proper' sailing (without the engine) almost since leaving the Exe.
It turned out to be a wise decision to keep moving as the wind did its usual trick of blowing at gale force for the next three days. We moved from the anchorage to the sheltered harbour wall but even so, there were real waves inside the inner harbour. Our boat was fairly still but the two yachts tied alongside of us were jumping about nicely and water kept crashing up over our deck.
Weather aside, we had a warm welcome from the local community, where the ‘Ros Ailither’ was based in the 1960’s. Michael Conneely, son of the then-owner, was waiting for us at the harbour after being told of our imminent arrival by one of his colleagues at the airport who had flown over us as we were sailing towards the island! His father had owned the Ros Ailither for several years and Michael had spent a couple of years fishing on her.
Sadly, Michael's father, Martin, is now physically unable to climb on board but he came down to the quay to take a look at his old boat bobbing at anchor. Michael’s brother appeared the next morning with a load of fresh fish and prawns for us, and we had a fairly constant stream of visitors who knew the boat or had fished on her. One man showed us which of the old coffin-bunks was his for a year and a half!
Between rain showers, we managed to explore the island. With Hazel’s parents we found a secluded beach to take Katie for a paddle, and took a ride on one of the tourist horse and carts. Mac the driver told us how much the island has changed. For one thing, all the little fields partitioned by stonewalls used to be full of potatoes to sell at the big Galway market. This has been killed off by cheap imported potatoes. The main income now comes from tourism, hence the masses of hired bicycles, tour buses and horse and carts that fill the tiny roads. Not a peaceful place to walk unless you go off the beaten track.
As soon as you are off the two main roads, you feel like you have stepped back in time. The stone walls go on forever, but nowadays the fields are full of grass and the odd cow. It is quite a bleak place, fully exposed to the Atlantic winds and with hardly a tree in sight. Lots of the old stone houses have been abandoned and larger modern houses built next the ruins. It is beautiful in a rugged way and there are some lovely quiet beaches, with weird and wonderful eroded lava rocks and gritty grey sand, reminiscent of those sand ‘pictures’ you turn upside down. There are at least a good selection of pubs to while away the rainy days. And of course a vast selection of hand-knitted Aran jumpers to keep you warm, but at €90 a go, we gave those a miss!
We also had the Whittons to visit, as they were nearby in Ireland. They caught the ‘Happy Hooker’ ferry from Doolin but were less than impressed with the wild seas that made everybody on board seasick. We tried to revive them with a hot bath, a pint of Guiness and a meal of local salmon and mash but they were still on for an early night. Happily for us, they were willing to babysit and Dave and I joined the neighbouring boat crew for a trip to the pub to hearsomne live music. The musicians turned out to be three young brothers (aged 14, ten and eight!!) and gave an incredible performance of traditional Irish music and dance!
The wind finally abated a little on Wednesday and, after waving the Whitton off on their return ferry, we set out to sea again. Michael Conneely came down to see us off at the dock and his father watched us head out to sea with all sails set.
posted by Katie at 12:18 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home