Northern Europe and the Atlantic

May 15, 20023 – Gargoyle arrives in Cork Ireland about the Sevenstar Yacht Transport Happy Dynamic. Having once again crossed the date line, equator and transited the Panama Canal, Gargoyle was ready to go for her next big adventure. But first we had to unload her and then get her to a dock so we could re-rig her to sail.

Thanks to our dear friend and author John Kretchmer, we were introduced to a member of the Royal Cork Yacht Club, Patrick Vaughn. RCYC is the world’s oldest yacht club, having been founded in 1720, and while the location of the club has changed over time, the history of the club remains strong. Pat met us on the ship and acted as our pilot back to the yacht club, then his wife Phil joined us for a few pints in the clubhouse to celebrate a safe passage.

We would spend the next few days putting Gargoyle back together. Reinstalling the bimini, raising the genoa, flushing the Watermaker, removing the tape from all the cabinets and unwrapping our spare bottles of wine. All was on track until one evening our bilge alarm went off and we could hear our main bilge pump running and running. Never a good sign. We quickly pulled up floorboards to find a couple of inches of water in the bilge spaces and knew immediately that we had a leak somewhere. After a few minutes of pulling up the rest of the floor and checking fittings, we identified the issue. The raw water pump in our aft head had sprung a major leak in the pump itself. We closed the thru-hull and proceeded to replace the pump with one from our spares and then rebuilt the faulty pump. One thing we’ve learnt is that it is always cheaper to rebuild than to replace. Finally, all was ready and after a wonderful dinner at our host Pat and Phil’s home overlooking Cork, we plotted a course to Kinsale.

On a flood tide we untied Gargoyle and with Pat helping to push us off, we made our way out past the historic town of Crosshaven and turned toward the open sea. Two months after loading our home, we were sailing again. The run to Kinsale is a quick one and after a few hours sailing we turned into the historic harbor.

This is a relatively small village with wonderful streets to walk, shops to peruse and dining options galore. While there is a high influx of tourists each day via bus, the early morning and late afternoon/evening is relatively free of the rush.

As mentioned, Kinsale is touted as the gastronomic highlight of Ireland and our meal at the Black Pig did not disappoint. It is not an exaggeration to say this mean topped any we’ve had at Michelin starred establishments. We also managed to tour nearby Charles Fort as well as sample the drink of the gods, mead, at Kinsale Mead Co.

Then it was time for us to get a move on as we had plans to meet friends from our travels in their home port of Howth, a suburb of Dublin. The journey looked to be a relatively simple overnight passage along the southern coast of Ireland and then up the East coast. Unfortunately, a rather unseasonal north breeze turned the Irish Sea into a mogul field of steep, short, and choppy waves, which we battled for twelve long hours. Finally, we rounded a point just north of the Dublin harbor and found a sheltered spot in the Howth Yacht Club with our name on it.

It was a year ago that we met a catamaran named Ohana, captained by Aisling and well manned by chef/quartermaster Darrell, hailing out of Howth Ireland. Along with their fellow Irishman Ger and New Zealand friend Michelle, that we’ve mentioned in our travels in that country, we became good friends and shared many a meal, dive, and glass (or bottle) of wine as we both made our way across the islands of French Polynesia. We finally had to say goodbye in Raiatea as they were selling their boat and returning to Ireland. That last night we vowed to get together somewhere in the future, but little did we know chance would make our reunion so soon!

Just to stop for a moment and reflect, the oceans of this world cover 70% of its surface. The Pacific, where we met, is the largest ocean with many islands and nations. After parting with our friends in Raiatea, it was only a few months later that their beautiful Lagoon 46, Ohana, managed to “find us” and pulled up to the mooring ball behind us in Fiji, with her new owners at the helm. A short month later we were in New Zealand and ended up darkening Michelle’s doorstep more than a few times. Then the opportunity came to ship Gargoyle and hear we were, having dinner with Aisling, Darrell, and Ger again, all within a year. Somethings are just fate, and this friendship was one of those fateful meetings.

A week in Howth with Aisling hosting us and acting as tour guide and cocktail planner, we made new friends and learned more about the history of an amazing country. But time was short, and it was time to move on. Our next destination was Scotland, a short overnight hop across the Irish Sea.

This time we lucked out and we had glassy calm water, albeit with zero wind, for a calm and restful run up to Belfast and across to the Sound of Jura. Twenty-four hours after departure, we made landfall in the delightful anchorage off Craighouse, on the Isle of Jura. While we enjoyed sunny days and calm waters here, we made it ashore to tour the Jura distillery, sample a 33-year-old scotch and explore this wonderful spot. Author George Orwell wrote his masterpiece 1984 here, “in an extremely un-get-atable place” as he described this magical isle. How lucky were we to have gotten to the un-get-able?

We were loathe to leave the calm and tranquil anchorage, but we did manage to explore two other stops off the Sound of Jura. The village of Tavyallich, home to a wonderful restaurant and extremely small harbor. And the island of Gigha, known locally for its Caribbean-like white sand beaches. Then the tides were right for us to make our way around the storied Mull of Kintyre and into the Clyde of Firth.

Our first stop in the Clyde was Campbelltown once home to over thirty whiskey distilleries but now housing only three. We dropped anchor under an ancient graveyard and took our dinghy to town to explore. We toured Springbank Distillery, one of the very few that still do it all on sight. Then, after another few days of exceptional sunshine we headed north to explore more lochs and anchorages. And it was there that we ran into a bit of trouble. On anchoring in a shallow bay, we discovered that the anchor chain we had been hoping for would last until we reached the Mediterranean had decided that no, now was the time it needed to be replaced. The first sign was a link 120’ into the chain that was rusted nearly all the way through after sitting in the anchor locker for much of its life. So rather than dodge the inevitable, we made a call to the Largs Yacht Haven and secured a space close to the entrance to aid us in transporting our new chain when it arrived.

What followed was four days of intense activity as we decided to take advantage of what is the best equipped marina and yard facility we have yet encountered. Our new 90m of 10mm chain was ordered with a 48-hour delivery turnaround so we then moved on to replacing the few remaining items needed before we set sail next month for Spain.

A quick word about replacing chains on a boat for those non-sailors following along. Three things are critical to know. One, the anchor chain is what holds your boat when the storms blow through an anchorage and are what stand between you getting a good night’s sleep and ending up on a rocky beach. Second, anchor chain is heavy, which does make your boat stay anchored but when hauling it off and bringing it on we’re talking a real workout. Lastly, it is expensive! First time I have ever paid that much money for a chain that didn’t come in a little blue box.

Having replaced our chain, we were able to enjoy another week of cruising in and around the Firth of Clyde. As we may have mentioned before we found Scotland to be very much like our home waters of British Columbia, though with the occasional castle tossed in for good measure. We were finally able to moor in the shadow of Carrick Castle on Loch Goil. Then it was time for a two-week holiday back home with family before we started our long-awaited passage to the Mediterranean. On July 18th Gargoyle departed Ardrossan, bound for the northwest coast of Spain. After a detour to Cork Ireland to wait out unfavorable weather, on July 27th, we had a window and headed South. Time to get warm.

The passage, all upwind, was a quick one, averaging 170nm a day. This is a great time, but it did introduce Tara to life on the lean as we were heeled over most of the way, running into a lumpy sea as we crossed the Bay of Biscay. Kudos to her as she took it all in stride. Her time as a commercial fisher off the coast of Australia certainly left her with great sea legs. Most notable for the passage was the Bay of Biscay crossing, getting passed by the only ocean liner in service, the Queen Mary 2 and dodging the fishing fleets that call the Bay home. All in all, it was a happy crew that made landfall in Camarines Spain on August 1st.

From there we hopped our way down the coast with Stops in Vigo and Baiona. The entire Galicia area gets five stars from us and should be on everyone’s holiday list. Then it was time to go from “off the beaten path” to one of Europe’s most visited cities, Porto, Portugal. We ended up staying ten days in the port of Leixos, just outside of Porto, as our windlass was failing, and we needed to have It rebuilt before continuing. This took longer than one would hope but life on the sea means you fix things when you can and don’t delay. So, this meant more tours of the Porto and Douro Valley regions as well as time well spent in Tapas bars and the endless beaches of Portugal. It also meant Tara would need to leave us here for her return flight to Canada after a month aboard Gargoyle. Thanks Tara!

Finally, on August 27th, with a rebuilt windlass upfront, we departed Leixos with just the two of us aboard and headed further south. The next two weeks would see us harbor hopping our way south as we tried to stay in less than 20m of water to avoid the Orca attacks that are currently plaguing this coast. This meant the trip down to Gibraltar took much longer than we had hoped as we weren’t able to sail overnight due to the numerous fishing pots, nets, and lines. But we did get to experience any number of great marinas ranging from Nazare, home to the largest wave ever surfed, Cadiz, another city you need on your bucket list and then on to smaller ports like Mazagon and Foz, which we thoroughly enjoyed. All in all, it was a fun run and other than a scare from a pod of Orcas that surfaced in front of the boat, feeding on tuna, we escaped the ocean’s wrath. After a hard few weeks of running down the coast, we reached Gibraltar on September 5th.

Before officially entering the Mediterranean, we stopped for a few days to explore historic Gibraltar. With the Moroccan coast within view to the south, it was easy to see why this had been such a strategic chokepoint throughout history. The Moorish influence is impressive as are the works of the British to strengthen this rocky fortress in times of war. Most amazing though are the monkeys that inhabit the rock itself. On a day of exploration, we found groups of monkeys that totally ignored us and others that seemed to love tormenting skittish tourists.

Finally, after taking advantage of the skilled mechanics to get our Yanmar serviced, it was time to depart and reach our long sought after goal, the Mediterranean Sea.