Aleria's Adventures

These are things we learned, often the hard way, on three Atlantic crossings and many more offshore passages. What things have you learned that can help others sail long distances safely? 1. The No.1 rule of sailing: STAY ON THE BOAT! Having a healthy dose of fear of falling overboard can save your life. Remember: 'One hand for the boat, One for yourself.'

by Daria Blackwell, co-author of Happy Hooking. The Art of Anchoring.  We're starting the year with a new summary from our book with our top ten tips for anchoring safely. Do you have any tips to share with us? 1. Select your spot carefully. Do not anchor on a steeply sloping bottom, on a lee shore, or in close proximity to other vessels. Follow the lead of other vessels in the anchorage for method of anchoring (one anchor, how much scope, etc.).

One of the questions we often hear from people who would never contemplate crossing oceans or moving to another country is, "Weren't you afraid out there?" Yes there were times when we experienced fear, but we didn't panic. We spent years learning everything we could, practicing what we would do if something went wrong, and beefing up our spare parts department. We knew if we didn't panic and worked together, we could work our way through almost anything.

Superstitious  by Stevie Wonder Very superstitious, writing on the wall Very superstitious, ladders bout' to fall Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass  Seven years of bad luck, the good things in your past When you believe in things that you don't understand Then you suffer Superstition ain't the way superstition ˌsuːpəˈstɪʃ(ə)n,ˌsjuː-/ noun excessively credulous belief in and reverence for the supernatural. A widely held but irrational belief in supernatural influences, especially as leading to good or bad luck, or a practice based on such a belief. I am not a particularly superstitious person, but I don't like to tempt the fates either. It is well known that sailors as a lot have been highly superstitious since taking to the seas over the centuries. Let's look at some of the beliefs and what their roots may have been. 

At some point in time, degrees, minutes and seconds that had been used to designate coordinates on a chart were changed into degrees and decimal minutes. In another step, the morphed into decimal degrees. Google maps uses decimal degrees. Charts use degrees, minutes and seconds, and some chart plotters and other mapping tools use degrees with decimal minutes. It drives me crazy to try to figure out one from the other.

We have been invited on several occasions to deliver lectures based on our books. Our anchoring book was actually born from a lecture. When people wanted to buy our book after the talk, we said, "What book?" That's when we set out to write Happy Hooking .

We were invited by Manchester Cruising Association to deliver our talk on Cruising the Wild Atlantic Way of Ireland.  We were met at the airport by Roy Conchie, Commodore, and dropped off at the Brittania Ashley Hotel in Hale, Cheshire.  He and his delightful wife Susie took us to dinner later and made sure we were settled with our plans for the day.  Roy was a very accomplished photographer in another life. Susie an accomplished accountant. They were just back from Barbados.

We've been invited to present our talk on Cruising the Wild Atlantic Way of Ireland in Manchester on Thursday of this week.  More information is on the Manchester Cruising Association web page. We look forward to seeing you there.

Benbulben in Sligo On Tuesday of this week, November 1, Alex and I drove to Killybegs to offload Aleria 's sails, cushions and other stuff. We brought a trailer along this time and loaded the car and trailer full. It only took 2.5 hours to drive up ... into blistering sunshine the whole way.  We were very efficient this year and got almost everything done in 2.5 hours.  A quick lunch break on deck, and we were on our way home ... into blistering sunshine the whole way.

It was a lovely morning and we were soon underway, thinking we might stop in to Inishmurray if the forecast for a calm day proved true. At this point, it was not. Once again we were soaring up the North Mayo coast in a SE. Then we realized it was almost 70 miles to Killybegs. That's a long day. We'd have to go straight there. We passed inside the Stags on a perfect course heading for Teelin doing more than 9 knots with the current; we couldn't make Killybegs on our current heading as the wind had backed to ESE and we were hard on the wind, trimming sails to the shifts as if in a dinghy. The chop was surprisingly uncomfortable out there. It was going to be a long trip bashing into the waves  on a beat all day.

We had a fine weather window that coincided with the astronomically high spring tide. If we left with the tide on Tuesday afternoon, we could sail to the Inishkeas or Black Sod Bay the next morning, spend the night there, then continue on to Killybegs Thursday and haul out on Friday. Unusually, there was a high centred over Scandinavia just above us that was extending all the way down to us. We were to have light southeasterlies and clear skies after strong easterly winds on Tuesday. Meanwhile, a succession of lows plunged across below to Spain and a slow-moving hurricane Matthew was plaguing the US East Coast.

Connected below deck during a gale On our voyage to Spain this summer, one of the things I was really looking forward to was disconnecting from the digital world for a period of time. There are two places where one can still disconnect: under the sea and in the middle of it. We'd be out of range of mobile signal, and therefore internet access, for days at a time since we sold our SAT phone. When crossing the Bay of Biscay, we could be unplugged for 4 days.

Hurricane Matthew is barreling toward Florida having taken more than 100 lives in Haiti and grown back to a category 4 behemoth. Florida and coastal Georgia and the Carolinas are being evacuated. The Bahamas are being pummeled and the eye was due to pass over Nassau. Don't know if it did.

Visitor moorings in Clifden By Daria and Alex Blackwell Pontoon at Clifden Boat Club makes access easy This summer, we spent a month sailing Ireland’s beautiful southwest coast. We encountered many foreign vessels, more than we’ve ever seen before, mostly from Britain and France. The first questions a cruiser asks when arriving in a new destination are: Are there visitor moorings and are they secure and easy to pick up? Is the anchorage sufficiently protected from wind and seas and does it offer good holding?  What type of bottom composition does it have? Where is the access to shore? Is it a pontoon, a pier, or a beach? How can I dispose of garbage and recycling? Are there showers and toilets ashore? How far are the closest restaurants and pubs? Can I get water and fuel? Is there a shop for reprovisioning? Are there laundry facilities? What's the best thing to do here?

Glassy calm seas It was dead calm in the morning. Any hint of breeze was from the NE and, of course, we were heading NE from Bofin to Clew Bay. We motored the 26 miles over glassy seas past the Twelve Bens of Connemara and Middle Ground, past Inishturk, Caher and Clare Islands and into Clew Bay.

It's a while since we stopped in Inishbofin.  We'd like to have stayed a while but we decided we'd push to get home before the forecast gale on Saturday. It was now more of a delivery than a cruise. So despite the northerly wind, we made for Inishbofin only 1which would make the last day quite reasonable. The wind was supposed to be 10-15 knots, no more, but instead, it was 15-20kts and we bashed our way to Bofin under power. It was lovely to enter a nice quiet settled harbour.

The pontoon at CBC We left early in beautiful sunshine again, raised our sails In Killeaney Bay, and jibed along the Galway Bay coast in about 15-18 knots SE, gusting higher. When we jibed again to head northward to clear Slyne Head, the wind settled down and moderated to a nice steady 15 knots. We flew up the coast, Aleria in her element on a beam reach. We were doing better than 8 knots. Glorious. Sunny. Hot. And it wasn't even the Costa del Cork any more.

We sailed out of beautiful Smerwick, I should say we shot out like a cork out of a bottle, then the wind fizzled so we started the engine. And that would be the pattern for the entire day. On again, off again, this time with the engine. It was glorious weather otherwise but the consistent 15, gusting 30, that was promised was not to be.

Sailboat just ahead heading for Blasket Sound We had a leisurely start and left Ventry motoring in light air. Soon the wind picked up a bit out of the SE and we hoisted sails. We sailed out through Blasket Sound following another sailboat out. Finding the cut through Blasket Sound The sail inside Great Blasket Island was beautiful. The anchorage there looked a bit more secure than the one we had just visited but exposed nevertheless. There was a sailboat and a power boat anchored there, presumably overnight. There were people roaming around the deserted village, presumably brought there by the tour boat in the anchorage. There is now a visitor's centre and cafe on the island during tourist season. It appears a few of the cottages have been restored.

Inishvickilane and Inishnabro in the Blasket Islands We were heading for our friends' favourite anchorage in Ireland in the Blasket Islands. Wedged between Inishvickilane and Inishnabro, the anchorage is tenable only in settled weather. The wind had abated but there was still a considerable swell. We poked our nose in and decided we'd have to be tucked right under the high cliffs to be comfortable at all and if the wind blew up, that's a place we'd not like to be at night.