Pwellheli

Pwllhelli Marina is a long walk but a short row from the town. Plas Heli - the Welsh Waterspots Academy is nearby with a bar and 'restaurant' but like almost everywhere in Pwllheli it majors in burger and chips.

Our first night we walked to a place called 'The Pontoon' which looked interesting and was - it was heaving and fully booked. We ended up in the yachtsman's refuge - at least that's what Weatherspoons seems to be - they serve food until 23:00 and its always OK and value for money.

Next day we tried to book for the Pontoon but it was already fully booked by the time they opened at noon. So we cooked on board and then went to Weatherspoons for pudding.

Holyhead South, a varied day

Getting anywhere from Holyhead means working with the tides. The tidal gate round South Stack can be very complicated, but between HW Dover +4 and +5 we found a sweet spot, where the tide is with you, and there are no overfalls. At +4 there is even a helpful tide from Holyhead Harbour to South Stack. Today, to make this window, we needed to clear Holyhead harbour at 04:30.

I woke at 03:40, which gave me a relaxed doze until 04:00 when the alarm went . We were both on deck by 04:15, to find the night just about lit by the moon and the beginning of a brightening although overcast sky. and I put the engine on to warm up and launched Worm, which was hauled out on the pontoon, while Julian sorted Robinetta's lines. The wind was still from the north and felt strong, probably a top end 4, and was holding us off the pontoon. I got Julian to pull the bow in as I backed out, so he stepped on board via the foredeck.

The wind immediately pushed the bow out and turned us, but we were clear of the boat next to us, and we backed clear without problems.

Julian got the bowsprit out and bent on the no 2 jib as I motored along inside the breakwater. We had been thinking of the no 1, but the wind felt too strong for that. The nearly full moon gave enough light for me to see where I was going, but I suddenly realised that running lights would be a good idea, and Julian dashed below to turn them on and hook up the stern light. The new fitting meant it switched on without problems, and even looked brighter than before.

We raised the main with a couple of turns of reef left round the boom to balance the no 2 jib, then headed out past the end of the breakwater. We were immediately in large swells, but they were regular and spaced far enough apart not to feel threatening. We had a great motor sail along the outside of the breakwater heading for North Stack, and saw 2 ferries heading in past us. We were well away from their route and we caused each each other no problems.

Robinetta's foredeck had still been mucky from the mooring we picked up on Wednesday morning, but by the time we reached South Stack it had had a good wash. We were charging along at nearly 6 knots, but were not tempted to turn off the engine. The tide would turn against us soon, and we needed all the distance we could make.

We were clear of South Stack by 05:30, but had to pass through a narrow belt of overfalls trailing off it. They were very minor, and we got through without any bumping around. Only a cable south of the overfalls Robinetta felt as though she had entered a different sea. Low and gentle swell replaced the steep waves and on our new course due south the wind was from almost directly behind, so felt much lighter. We put George on the helm, and Julian shook out the reef, then I went forward to rig the preventer and change the jib up to the no 1.

Our next tidal gate lay in Bardsey Sound. Julian's course in the chart plotter that assumed we would not make it in time for slack water. The north wind was forecast to go south west, and if it turned before we reached the Sound we should not go through, even with the tide. Wind over a 7 knot tide is not something to take lightly.

We turned the engine off at 07:00 while we ate breakfast, but by the time we finished eating our porridge the tide was no longer with us, and Robinetta slowed noticeably. The engine went back on to keep us at 4 knots, but we soon settled down at just over 3, even with all sails flying and the engine on.

By 09:00 the tide was well against us and the wind being straight astern and light could not help the engine much. We slowed to a 2 knot crawl south. By noon the main was doing nothing, so we decided to lower it, at which point it caused us much grief. The sail refused to flake well (we were lowering the sail on the run, so this was not really a surprise) and we discovered just now much it had been steadying Robinetta against the swell. We had not noticed this with the sail up at all.

Once everything was lashed into place we had lunch. Speed over the ground was averaging over 3 knots again, and Bardsey Sound opened ahead of us. The tide began to set us towards it and it was time to decide if we should take the short cut. The wind had died to nothing and the tidal stream atlas in our “Cruising Anglesey and Adjoining Waters” pilot showed nothing nasty in the way of overfalls and whirlpools for the time, despite stating that the Sound should only by traversed at slack water. At 13:50 I took George off the helm and steered for the Sound.

Lleyn side of Bardsey Sound

The sea was a little confused, but far from being overfalls. For the first ten minutes Robinetta needed to ferry glide to stop her being carried towards Bardsey, but once I was certain we were past Maen Bugail, an outlying rock at the north end of the Island, I straightened up and pointed Robinetta straight through the centre of the Sound. Max speed was 7.2 knots and the seas here were smooth, with the occasional oily swirl of tidal rosts. It felt a little like being back in Orkney.

We saw a trip boat heading back from Bardsey. It came close to us, and when we waved the passengers waved back. The sun came out and we peeled off layers of clothes. Julian even went down to shorts and put on suncream. Three hours before we had been in full oilskins with fleeces beneath and now we were both in shirtsleeves. Ah, August in Wales!

George went back to work on the helm as soon as we were clear of Bardsey and we motored past Aberdaron and Porth Neigwl in the sunshine. The glittering sea shone grey, not blue, and clouds covered more of the sky than not, but all in all a lovely afternoon. Our short cut had saved us 2 hours, and we would be in Pwllheli in good time for dinner.

St Tudwal's Island

Then the day got even better. A light breeze came up, and we could see yachts with their sails up. One was about to sail into St Tudwal's Sound, and we decided to do the same. We sent George below, then up went the main sail, out went the jib, and we turned off the engine to sail slowly between the mainland and St Tudwal's Islands in the sunshine. We were running, but with a totally flat sea there was no real risk of an accidental gybe.

Abersoch Bay

As we cleared the sound we could see Abersoch ahead, and hardened up slightly to head in. We tried contacting the sailing club there to see if there was a mooring we could use, but could not reach anyone who could give us the okay. I turned Robinetta away towards Pwllheli, and the sailing was so lovely and gentle that I was glad to keep going. Any necessary gybes were done by just pulling the sail over rather than hauling in first, but we were still making 3 knots. The sea and sky were both blue, we were ringed by mountains on all sides (almost), the scenery was amazing... This was North Wales at its best.

Running toward Pwllheli

I gave Julian the helm as we got close to Pwllheli so he could share the helming joy, then called the marina on the VHF and asked for a berth. We sailed to the start of the entrance channel, then got the sails down and headed in. We were moored up at 19:10 after a wonderful end to a long day on the water.

More Maintenance

Spent the day trying to sort out the engine problem, tidy up the boat, and catch up with sleep!

We moved Robinetta and Worm into the marina at 6 in the morning, with the engine warning noise on all the time, and went back to bed as soon as we were tied up. A cooked breakfast from the marina café filled the food gap at half ten.

Julian started the engine and the problem seemed to have cleared, although I could still hear a faint whine. He had a good look at the engine anyway and spotted that the battery connection was lose. It wouldn't tighten and on closer inspection the stud it fixed to on the solenoid was damaged and had almost no thread. It seems as though the engine problem was with the solenoid connection. Julian took the solenoid out to see if the stud was easy to replace and worked out that if he left the washers out there would be enough thread left for the nut to bite. Then he did not manage put it back properly, which let to a host of other problems. Luckily John from Bridget was on hand to show him how it should go, and all the problems went away.

Yesterday's other problems were the failed plug on the stern light and the continual voltage drops which turned off the chart plotter and dimmed the running lights.

Julian replaced the plug and socket for the stern light which should now be fine.


He couldn't track down the problems with the chartplotter so he made a few improvements to see if they will help. He tightened the switches in the switch box and checked all the solder joints and replaced the chock block connecting the engine earth to the domestic supply with crimped rings on the bolt. As there were three wires sharing the two sides of the chock block this should be more reliable and lower resistance.

He still wants to replace the primary domestic earth to the engine, but that is probably winter work.

Peel to Holyhead

We went to the harbour office and paid our dues, which were much reduced for rafting on the wall for the Weekend.

The first bridge swing would be as soon as the flap gate went down at about 10:30. We were ready to go and were just about to back out of the pontoon when we heard the harbnour master announce on the radio that the flap gate was lowering. Perfect timing!

Felinheli and Phyllis, plus 2 motor cruisers and 2 bermudan sloops came out with us. We got Robinetta's main up as we motored out and were on course with full main, no 1 jib, and staysail by 11:00. Felinheli and Phyllis soon pulled ahead, even though we kept the engine on due to lack of wind.

After about half an hour Julian got the reaching sail out and we put George on the helm while the seas were relatively flat. We flew the reaching sail all the way to Chicken Rock, which we gave a 3nm offing to avoid overfalls.

With the engine on we had made good progress and were about an hour ahead of our “worse case” planning.

Before we changed course to head for Holyhead we put the reaching sail away and pulled in the main in case we gybed. In the end the mainsail stayed out on the port side so we set the preventer again. An hour after the turn I realised we were doing 5½ knots, so lowered the engine revs, then turned it off completely. We were still doing 4½ to 5 knots once we flew the jib.

The trip from Man to Holyhead is complicated by the tides. We should head 173 °T according to the chart plotter, but having done the planning I put George on a compass course of 183°. This, plus the tide, carried us steadily west of our course on the chart plotter, which confused the “you will reach your destination” calculation time on the plotter.

For the first time in a long time I entered hourly fixes onto our paper chart to check our progress. The last thing I wanted was to be held to a standstill by the tides for 3 hours as had happened at Robinetta's last trip from Man to Holyhead.

I expected Robinetta to go 10nm west of the line, then be carried gently back to it as the tide turned. The swell had got up, and George could not cope, so Julian and I began hand steering in relays. By the time I realised the tide was not taking us in we were 13 nm west of the line and we gybed round to head in. This happened when Julian was in the middle of cooking dinner and I wished I had asked for the gybe before he started. We should have gybed an hour earlier, as soon as we got to the calculated 10nm off course. My fault as navigator for not trusting my own calculations.

We ate dinner in relays, unable to leave the helm, but Julian produced a good meal given the rolling conditions! 

As I took the helm again I glanced to the side, and saw dolphins swimming along side us in the swell. I called Julian back and he got a glimpse of them too, visible inside the wave that rose astern of Robinetta. I am pretty sure they were common dolphins, which are less common in the Irish sea! 

It was beginning to get dark, and I asked for the running lights to go on. The stern light refused to work, despite Julian working on it for half an hour, and the sea state was getting more and more challenging as the wind rose. By half nine we were reefed down to the first hoop, with the jib away, and Julian undid the hoop ready for the next reef. This went in at 22:40, and we were rolling horribly up and across the waves. By 23:30 I was getting overpowered again, and we dropped the main altogether, and went onto engine and staysail.

The chartplotter began to cut out. It would go straight back on, then die again next time we had a wave created lurch. Sometimes it would cut out as we were in the middle getting it back on! I really regretted those 3 miles too far west as we fought our way across the waves.

I put my head out of the cabin at about 0045, to get ready for my turn on the helm, and heard a warning whine from the engine. I told Julian, who had not noticed it for the engine and wind noise, and he throttled back. The whine continued, and we turned the engine off. With stay sail alone we did not have steerage way amongst the nasty waves, but we unfurled the jib and were able to make progress at 2½ knots.

We crept closer to Holyhead, having to turn the chart plotter on again what seemed like every other minute. Eventually we gaining the shelter of the breakwater at 01:55. The change to smooth water came as a blessed relief. We relaxed, but were exhausted. Holyhead marina is not well lit, and although we decided to head in when we reached it I bottled out. We had furled the jib at the last minute and turned the engine on. It was still whining, and I did not trust it. Entering the marina on staysail and dodgy engine, with a force 6 northerly to work with, felt wrong. I turned away rather than heading for a berth (we had no fenders or ropes ready, and the bowsprit was still out). Luckily there was an empty mooring buoy just off the entrance. Julian picked it up while I helmed, then we did the minimum of tidying up and tumbled into bed just after 02:30.

Monday Maintenance

The boats heading north left at the first bridge opening, since the wind was from the South West. We wanted a northerly to head south, and since one was forecast for Tuesday we stayed put, having work to do on Robinetta.

The first job was moving the toilet out of the way to look for the forepeak leak. Julian handed it up to me in the cockpit, and I was sat there cleaning it up when Mary came back from paying her mooring fees. She commented with amusement, saying that her bucket was better than worrying about thru hulls for a flush.

Worm had been moored alongside Molly Cobbler for the weekend, and Mary gave her back, before casting off and heading out of the harbour as soon as the flap gate allowed.

Julian and I wanted mains electricity for the day, so we had decided to move to a pontoon berth as soon as Mary left. This lead to us motoring through the harbour with the toilet on display in the cockpit, which caused several ribald comments.

Once we were moored up I finished cleaning the toilet and Julian moved it onto the foredeck, where it was a lot less obvious.

Water was coming in from a couple of places. Julian tightened up the toilet flushing water ingress sea cock, which had started leaking again. ( a recurrent problem.)

The other leak seemed to originate at the foremost floor strap's central bolt, just aft of the chain locker.

A good thing about being at a Traditional Boat Weekend is that there are experienced wooden boat builders/repairers around. Scot Metcalf, skipper of Vilma and owner of the Penryn wooden boat workshop came to have a look, together with John, off Bridget. Scot tightened up the nut on the threaded rod through the strap and the flow ceased. He thinks there may be a scarf joint on the stem poast that is being held in place by the nut. Tightening the nut against the floor seemed to do the trick and Robinetta stopped pumping as often. Vilma and Bridget both headed out on the last bridge swing before the flap gate came up, they were going to moor at St Mary's overnight and leave early from there for Holyhead.

The toilet bowl went back in place, now nice and clean.

I passage planned for our trip to Holyhead tomorrow while Julian worked, then we went out for an icecream and internet, before eating dinner on board.

Not such a good day

Should have gone out for another parade of sail, but the 06:00 forecast discouraged us. 3-4 sw would be fine, but “increasing 5-6” rang warning bells, as did the “rain later”. We began to get the bunting down prior to leaving anyway, but then we felt the gusts begin, and decided against it.

Only 3 boats went out in the end, and they did not stay out long. By 12:00 it was raining hard and horizontal, and we settled down in the cabin for a quiet afternoon. Luckily it dried later on letting us   watch the Peel Carnival parade without getting wet.

Absurdist Pipe Band entertaining spectators before the parade

We went out with Mary to the Creek Inn for dinner, and had a great time. We got into conversation with the owner and builder of a large catamaran which had come into Peel with a damaged rudder. Since he had built the boat himself (near Ravenglass)  he knew exactly how to repair it. We spent the evening sharing experiences of sailing round Ireland. His catamaran cruises at 20 knots, but like us he took 9 weeks to go round. The Irish were so welcoming he kept staying in places for longer than expected!   

Peel Parade of Sail

We woke to sunshine on Saturday morning, and opened the hatch into the cockpit to find a bag with sausages, bacon, milk and bread, courtesy of the Peel Traditional Boat festival organisers. Since they had already given us butter, eggs, and condiments when we registered we were all set for a splendid cooked breakfast.

I moved Worm against the harbour wall so we would not have to take her with us. She had spent the night moored alongside Molly Cobbler, who had rafted up out side us yesterday.

The flap gate dropped at about nine, and by 09:30 we were ready to head out when the swing bridge opened. Julian had been in the middle of raising the sail to shake out the reef when we heard it was time to go, so we headed out with the main part raised, just the gaff scandalised. I got the ropes and fenders away, then we were heading out with the rest of the fleet to sail up and down the coast on quite long tacks.

Mog, with Peel Castle behind

Vilma, and various other boats in company

Most parades of sail are held in close quarters, with boats milling about near the shore, but this one seemed much more relaxed, and we happily followed the other boats out to the north west before turning to head back towards Peel. I took a lot of pictures. The steady force 3-4 breeze made sailing a joy, and the swell just made it more fun. We stayed out for nearly two hours, then headed back in for the 11:30 gate swing.

We rafted back on Phyllis, with Molly Cobbler outside us, and got the bunting back up. A lazy afternoon sorting photos was followed by dinner at the Masonic hall. It was a lovely day to own and sail an old boat.