Aleria's Adventures

Our encounter with a fin whale bigger than our boat I don't know about you, but I get really excited every time I have an encounter with a wild animal and for some reason, whales, dolphins, porpoises, and seals make for the most magical encounters. I've been fortunate enough to have crossed the Atlantic several times and had ideal conditions for viewing cetaceans. I've written often about our encounters but I didn't have a good visual reference for identifying who I was meeting out there with any certainty. A stunning new user-enabling reference book is about to be released that will change all that for anyone sailing in European waters. My review of the book, Europe's Sea Mammals , follows. I can't wait to head back out to sea with this on board.

Departing Clew Bay on the morning tide. (Click on photos to enlarge.) Confused seas off Achill Head. On a beautiful Thursday morning in mid-October, we departed from Clew Bay on the outgoing tide. High tide was at 8 am and we needed to get out early to make the 50-mile trip to the Inishkeas. The sky turned an amazing purple, with the morning sunrise breaking through heavily overcast skies. The weather in Ireland had been miserable all summer, but October proved spectacular. Very little rain, not too windy, and not too cold. This morning, the forecast was for clearing skies and light winds in the morning, with wind dying out in the afternoon.

Fog in Port Ellen, Islay Across the North Channel, Heading Home Seal wishes us farewell There was heavy rain overnight, but it was generally calm and a gentle swell brought a sweet night of rest.  The ferry boomed us awake in the morning. Thick fog had wiped the world away. We were very glad to be anchored here away from town, rather than closer inside where the ferry turned.  You couldn’t see the boats we knew were anchored there…at least they had been there attached to the bottom the night before. Typically, you shouldn't be starting a voyage on a Friday.  But this wasn't really starting a voyage; we were completing a circle. And we weren't really sure it was Friday. When you are cruising, you don't always know what day of the week it is. You know the date because you make log entries daily, but the day of the week can be elusive. Sometimes, they include it in the forecast on the VHF radio. Usually, I jot it down then. This time, we thought we might

Catabatic winds blowing down Skye as we depart The day of the winds It was heavily overcast, but a nice breeze of 10-15 knots as promised, as we prepared to get underway. We hoisted the main and mizzen and made way by 0830, heading down the Loch Harport with the tide but directly into the wind.  As we turned the last corner by the light house where we thought we’d be sailing, the wind started cranking up really fast: 20, 23, 25, 27, 29, 33.  Oh my, the boat ahead of us in full sail was getting hammered.  Suddenly, it was slammed to the water, broaching as it rounded up.  Alex puts two reefs in the mainsail Aleria is not as easy a pushover, but seeing that, Alex quickly went forward and double reefed the main as the wind stabilized at around 27 knots.  The boat ahead of us did the same. We suspected katabatic winds, and so we power sailed through it, mostly on the nose.  It suddenly dropped from 27 knots to 17, and we were sailing along quite nicely with Skye

The Treshnish Isles, where nature abounds Nature and human nature  An adorable puffin on Lunga We’ve had this amazing weather – like the Caribbean – hot and hazy and occasionally humid. Light winds. Smooth seas.  Pretty bloody unbelievable.  For two weeks and more to come.  Everyday, the forecast read something close to this: Strangely shaped islets Sails up but not full in glass calm Meteorological situation: a high of 1030 mb has settled over Europe.  Forecast for 24 hours. Winds variable E-NE Force 2-3, seas smooth, conditions fair, visibility moderate to good, poor in fog patches, risk of thundery showers, temperature reaching a high of 22-24 degrees C.